westwhere | Stepping into the dark

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Stepping into the dark

WHO: Eleven & Archeval
WHEN: April 12th + 13th
WHERE: Salt Mines
WHAT: An excursion at full strength
WARNINGS: violence

[It's afternoon by the time he's finished with his unexpected errands of the morning and he can't find Xingchen. Which makes sense, really. The man likely has plenty else to be doing, even assuming he hasn't already left.

Eleven mulls it over as he pulls on his armor. There's still time, and he's likely strong enough to go it alone, but.. it would be pretty reckless. Still, he's spent too much coin this morning that he needs to make up for it.

He pulls a cloak over himself to hide the metal shine of his armor, then secures his swords. Perhaps he could ask someone else. If he can't find anyone, then he'll resign himself to enduring a grueling day at the docks.

Eleven casts a thoughtful glance over the servant's quarters, mind trickling through various possibilities, then grins as he spots a likely target]

Archeval. Are you busy today?

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[Eleven mulls it over a moment, comparing the ability to magic he knows. A touch more sinister than sleep or his former ability to ward off weaker monsters, but seeming harmless enough in application and duration]

I guess that's fair. I don't make it a habit of trying to sleep people without their permission, but it's necessary sometimes.

[While a leather bag doesn't quite rank on all that high as a necessity in terms of life or death, they are only borrowing it]

[ So kind of the child of light to make ethical excuses for his new buddy the dark lord. And to just take him at his word, for that matter. Arche can't think of many Jedi who'd be willing to do that. ]

Particularly useful when one is very short of allies to lean on, as we are right now. But yes -- if you've been making this trip frequently, what route west do you take to avoid patrols...?

[ He lets Eleven continue to set the pace for now, sharp gaze flicking between dark alleys and potential ambush points as they head toward Sa-Hareth's outskirts. ]

[Eleven's content to lead and does so almost absently. Though he isn't quite as familiar with the early afternoon patrols, they manage to reach the outskirts with little trouble. He's more concerned about the patrols at night upon their return. Usually, he's back before sunset.

But through the icy walk toward the salt mines themselves, his mind wanders until words leave him without thought]

My senses aren't what they were before the Fall, but you don't feel how I thought you would. Dark, but not... sinister.

[ He quirks a brow at Eleven again for a moment, looking vaguely surprised. ]

Have a sense for that, do you?

[ there is a light at the center of him, in fact, buried deep. With Eleven's somewhat diminished talents, he might perhaps pick up the bare edges of something that Arche has gone to pains to hide. ]

Well, just don't go bandying that about to anyone else. [ drawling with some amount of wry humor to his voice, but his eyes are serious ] I have a reputation to maintain.

You, on the other hand, are only slightly less blinding than I expected-- [ Noting this dryly, eyes still darting about their surroundings as half-frozen grass crunches under their feet. There is... something about the feel of Eleven's mind that isn't quite as familiar as Archeval would expect, but the Light Side of the Force is strong in him -- that's probably the Force, anyway. What else would it be?... ]

Though I'm afraid that is one skill of mine that won't come in handy today. I don't know about you, but I usually can feel only the presence of the living, and seems the things here don't have enough of a spark to qualify.

[Eleven grins to himself, feeling rather like he's picked up on a secret. He's doubly glad that there is still sufficient light in him that Archeval can sense it]

I won't tell. But for the undead here, I only seem to be able to sense when they're in pursuit. It's then that their energy is focused at its darkest, but.. it doesn't tell me where they're coming from.

[At least out here in the ice and snow, they'll be easy to spot. It'll be far more difficult in the dark caverns of the mine they're approaching the slope of]

[ Of course, the opposite is also true: the local hero of light and the dark-clad Sith Lord stand out nicely against the open tundra. This is definitely a much less grueling trip when Arche isn't half-starved, half-clothed, and exhausted, though; honestly, now that he's gained his feet a little better the biting cold is almost a nice change of pace from Yavin 4's sweltering jungles. Running around there in full battle gear had certainly been an experience. ]

Certainly better than nothing. As long as we don't get mobbed, all should be well...

[ His eyes continue to sweep the horizon. There aren't many places for creatures to hide out here, but he's fairly sure the way the swirling winds pick up snow from the ground could conceal a nasty surprise. ]

[The lip of the mine always sets his teeth on edge with how it obscures the slope down. Eleven draws one of his swords as they approach, the hand with his birthmark splayed open and ready to reach for his magic. Two decaying figures swivel just as he peers over the ledge.

He jumps back toward Archeval and draws his other blade as the shambling bodies clamber up after him]

You take one? Or do I need to distract them both for you to cast?

Just two?

[ A soft laugh crosses his lips as he reaches for that battered silver something-or-other on his belt. ]

Look after yourself, hero. Time to get a little exercise in.

[ There's a soft whoosh and a low hum as he activates his lightsaber -- it's not exactly the most subtle of weapons, as the beam of the sword shoots out to cast neon violet light over the snow and their gear and Arche's face, that purple energy hovering around a long, slim dark core that seems to suck in the light around it. He can hear the creatures starting to scrabble their way over the lip of the cliffside and he makes a lunge for the first one to pull itself up, gesturing with the Force to send it flying away from Eleven to bounce a few feet across rubble and salt and scattered grass. Arche is already descending on the thing with saber in hand as it starts to stagger back into standing position; difficult to imagine his electricity could kill something that's already dead, so simply hacking it up will have to do-- ]

Edited 2021-04-13 23:56 (UTC)

[Eleven instinctively shifts away from the purple energy even as his curiosity is piqued.

But he doesn't have the time to ask about it or watch as his own opponent lunges for him. He skips back, mindful now of getting too close, then pushes heat through his hands to wreathe both blades in fire. He cuts forward in a swift flurry of quick strikes meant to distract and maim more than kill, then dances back once more as it lashes blind retaliation. It's the work of moments more to create the opening he needs to cross dual blades at the throat and sever its head.

The flames extinguish and he gives a glance to the mutilated corpse Archeval stands over. He offers the man a wry grin]

You only had to take its head, you know.

Edited 2021-04-14 00:18 (UTC)

[ Arche is already glancing back over his shoulder as Eleven speaks again, having been watching the other's handiwork; the glowing saber still hums softly in one hand, angled away from his body in a carelessly practiced grip. ]

Better safe than sorry. And anyhow, where would be the fun in that? Not as if these things are going to offer a proper duel.

[ He heads back toward Eleven as he speaks so that he doesn't have to raise his voice too much -- no sense attracting extra attention here, armed or not. The glowing lightsaber blade disappears back up into its hilt as he comes to a stop. ]

Elegant. [ He offers the word with a brief nod toward those dual blades. ]

[His eyes follow Archeval's blade even as it disappears. He shifts to sheathe his own]

I like them. But what is that sword you use? Is that a concentration of pure dark energy given physical form?

Nothing so mysterious. This is just the color that spoke to me. [ He notes this with a dry quirk of one brow. ] It's called a lightsaber. In a pinch you could try using it yourself, but I don't recommend it. Requires a certain set of talents to avoid chopping your arm off.

[ He's craning his neck as he speaks, looking down the path that leads over the cliff and into the mines. Where two of those things lurk, more are sure to follow. ]

[Eleven relaxes a bit to hear it. The last thing he's looking forward to having near his person is another Sword of Shadows. Now that he thinks about it though, he can recall glimpsing the violet color in the handle earlier.]

..I think I'll manage without trying it.

[He can't reattach limbs with magic, after all.

Eleven steps past Archeval to lengthen their line of sight, finding relief when the slope down seems clear. He starts down with a nod]

But if it's not darkness, then what is it made of?

[It's called a 'lightsaber' but.. he's never seen or heard light like that before]

A focused laser beam. [ pausing to take in the look on Eleven's face for a moment, and considering their previous conversations, he continues on very wryly: ] Which is a very dangerous, very hot beam of light, produced by a tiny machine. Cuts through most materials like butter. This one appears dark through some technical trickery with the focusing crystal inside. They come in many different colors, though. Each saber is quite personal to the one who wields it.

[ As they head further into the mine proper, he hefts that empty bag on his back again and lowers his voice further, keeping it to a murmur as he glances around. ]

You are clearly no novice with a blade either. Did you train long?

[It's definitely cause for some surprise. Although, the longer he thinks about it, the more he thinks the beam emitted by a killing machine seems similar. To think that such a power could be controlled..]

Ah, my grandfather taught me when I was a child until he passed away. I practiced on my own until I met my companions, who helped train me further.

[As the mines darken, Eleven unfurls a palmful of fire to see by]

..I only recently started training with two blades.

Handy. [ He murmurs this with a wry look as he glances at that little flame, going quiet entirely for a little while to listen for any trouble. At long last, though, he adds quietly: ]

Perhaps these trips are doubly fruitful for you then. I've always found a real battlefield to be the best teacher.

[He nods, flashing a smile]

I like fighting.

[Though he doesn't enjoy the life-death stakes that often come with it quite as much.

Eleven follows a familiar path toward one of the old campsites, steps slowing as they draw closer. His ears strain in the dark for anything in the open space beyond the cavern]

..If this area is clear, we should be able to get most of what we need.

Take what you're after and load up my bag too, then. I'll keep lookout while you do the grunt work. You're welcome. [ drawling out sardonically again as he peeks his head around dark corners, grip tight against his saber hilt. No ominous sounds yet, but -- he has a bad feeling. ]

[Eleven huffs an amused breath, but accepts Archeval's bag and steps into the open dark. He toes his way around the site, glad he's wearing leather boots rather than metal as he searches for something to light. An old oil lantern glows in the center, casting dim light and long, flickering shadows, but it's enough to free up both of his hands.

He loads up with salt first, as their primary objective is to make coin. It's quieter insofar as collection goes and will do to muffle anything else he piles in, but he doesn't dare to venture far and thus ends up with far less than he'd like. Deciding they can find more later without much issue, Eleven shifts his focus to carefully rifle through a short pile of old, warped tools. He turns one over in his hands with a soft hum. They'd take up less space if he could separate the metal from their poles..]

[ Both of them are professionals, and being careful as they can be, but they didn't exactly bring any stealth experts to this party. Their activities inevitably make at least a little noise, and the things down here surely haven't had the same abundance of prey for a while that they enjoyed before the refugees busted out of here -- it was probably equally inevitable that the undead are desperate, on-edge and acutely attuned to signs of life, just as their wary visitors are.

Arche slips just a bit further down one dim passage as he hears a distant scrabbling, turns a corner to investigate and -- this trio takes only a second to register his presence before they're already barrelling toward him--

The unlit hallway fills with a dull violet glow, and down the way Eleven will hear that strange noise of a lightsaber igniting again as Archeval tangles with the creatures in the dark. ]

There's more coming-- Check they're not cutting off our retreat!!-- [ That's all he has time to shout, his voice echoing down the corridor along with eerie moans. Hopefully the noise doesn't attract further trouble still. ]

[He leaps up from his task, drawing his blades as Archeval's voice echoes back to him. His skin prickles with the uncomfortable awareness of the oppressive dark, its presence seeming everywhere, then finally tears his eyes from the unnatural violet glow to check the direction they'd come in. The way looks clear at first, standing still and breathing in the dark while his ears listen for sounds of distress from his companion.

The undead are upon him in moments, too close and clawing for him. The hand closest to him is severed in swift defense as he retreats backward, but the injury doesn't deter his pursuer. Pursuers, he recognizes in a flash of flame. Two of them. He isn't terribly worried about them, certain he can keep them at sword's length as he works to tear them down, but he is concerned about the open campsite he has his back to, and the numerous directions undead could come in from there.]

Arche--! [His voice cuts off as he's forced to stab one of the undead through as it lunges for him. Eleven grimaces and shoves it off, hoping to make swift work of the second while the first staggers back to its feet] Are you...?

[ From the tunnel where Eleven can still hear noises of battle, abruptly a shriveled undead body comes flying backward in El's direction -- headless. It smacks straight into one of the other creatures, sending them tumbling again, but the still 'living' one is in prime position to swipe at Eleven's feet even as Archeval himself comes sprinting down the corridor with blade in hand-- ]

More on my tail-- [ indeed, another rears up directly behind him as he pauses to spit some stray blood out of his mouth; with a grimace and a swiftly flung hand its limbs seize up under a quick electric shock and Arche gives it a kick straight backwards where it came from. ] You're not done yet, are you? How much do we care about that tunnel?--

Edited 2021-04-14 20:14 (UTC)

We don't.

[Eleven decapitates the fallen undead with a decisive strike, then extinguishes and sheathes one sword to free an arm up for magic. With a swift gesture from his hand, a wall of fire springs to life across the mouth of the tunnel Archeval's pursuers had come from]

That will slow them down at least. We can take what we have and find somewhere else..

[ There's a horrendous screech from behind the fire as one creature can't quite stop its momentum in time and goes barrelling straight through it, dropping to the ground writhing with flames eating up its blackening limbs, even as it continues to try to drag itself forward. Archeval steps forward with a sigh to swipe the head off this one as well, watching several more mass behind Eleven's flickering wall, screeching out their frustration even as they try to crowd close-but-not-too-close to the source of warmth-- ]

Enough of this. [ He scowls as he thrusts out a hand. If he starts collapsing tunnels entirely there's no telling what he could do to the stability of this place, but there's plenty of debris here to work with; so he's going to just start flinging stray boulders and salt and gravel piles straight into the tunnel mouth, sending a few creatures careening backward as he fills it up. ]

Which way next with us--?

[He suppresses the urge to gag as the scent of burnt, rotting flesh becomes far more prominent. His eyes water with it while he rushes to collect their bags in the wake of Archeval's seeming invisible force at work against their pursuers.]

This way. [He steps around severed limbs as they go and runs them a good distance back until he can no longer feel the dark hunger of the undead, then settles to a walk and finally sheathes his second blade. He turns his handful of fire toward his companion for a quick examination]

..Are you injured?

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