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Three Goblin Art
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Janaina Medeiros
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@dremoradisplaced
Thank you…
[The crystal pulses, electrical impulses surging through it as the stone body recreates itself, as naturally as an organic creature might form a fist. A groan, a relieved sound like stone grating against itself,as the restoration is completed.] But… There is one thing this vessel must tell you.
[Ankhet watches, wary, but he doesn’t seem about to attack.] Then, speak.
Lady Ankhet. Please, allow this vessel to restore himself.
[She releases the crystal.]
[There is an extended pause.]
This vessel pledges service to you, small one… Lady small one. But you must know what that means.
My name is Ankhet. Use it.
This is a mockery! The Tempest does not… Cannot…
…As the small one wishes.
Say it.
This vessel… What?!
I am growing impatient. Pledge yourself, or I’ll keep you in pieces.
Fine. You have won… somehow. Now let this vessel restore himself. He begins to grow… dizzy.
Pledge yourself to me, first.
You… [For a moment, the core flickers more frantically, and pebbles tremble with urgency. But she’s won, and they soon rest, motionless.] You would not.
Ha. I would.
You… You do not think you can defeat the Tempest so easily, small one. [The gravelly voice seems to come from everywhere at once, but pebbles and stones are all being swept back towards a single, radiant amethyst crystal, which seems to shimmer and pulse with something almost resembling a heartbeat.]
[Ankhet picks her way over to it, kicking aside stones and pebbles in her way. She pulls on the crystal, bringing it up in front of her.] Stop this. Now.
(( dremora fox is on fire ))
[The ethereal, shrieking laughter rises to a cacophonous crescendo as the molten metal is swept up into his core. Frightful bursts of electrical energy surge out in all directions, and Tempest’s howls of delight give way to realization and terror. The storm reaches it’s violent, explosive peak. A pulse of electromagnetic force radiates from the core, and then, nothing.
Until the pebbles scattered about begin to twitch where they lay.]
Tempest’s head is hurting…
[Ankhet was thrown bodily with the storm, scattered among the rubble. But such force was not enough to break her. Her body hurt, from the electricity under her skin from the physical crackdown. If she was to emerge the victor with spoils for her troubles, however, she could not rest now.
Her search carried her into the center, looking for his core.] It will not be all that hurts, if you continue this foolishness.
[He’s too big and too slow to dodge the attacks. All he can do is let the flames crash against him, let the heat compound itself inside his heart. Violet light is radiating from him now, bolts of power flying indiscriminately from his body.
She’s too swift for his whips, that much has been made abundantly clear, and is keeping effectively out of his reach while she pelts him with fireballs. Suddenly, the grating howl of his battle cry seems to swell into a manic fit of laughter. His body begins to separate, and stones that were pulled magnetically together fly free, becoming caught inside his steadily expanding outer whirlwind. The twister expands further and further, drawing in all that are caught within, dragging them steadily to the barely-stable electric core.]
THERE IS NO ESCAPE!
[There may be grand thoughts of riding the winds, dodging rocks, but there is little Ankhet can actually do in the face of such overblown fury. She cannot aim, she cannot fight, she can barely avoid her smaller form slamming into the rocks tumbling about with her.
But perhaps the wind can do her job for her. Lightning and static arc through her as she summons her iron flesh, searing her body painfully. There is just enough magicka to heat the iron molten. The winds whip it away, sending searing metal straight for the core.]
[A roar, something between a cry of anger and stone grinding against stone, erupts from the golem as it marches forward. Flames cannot harm him, only feed him. The gale around him grows hot, and the lightning begins to leap forth from his core, as if the vessel itself is being cracked.
Both arms illuminate with magicka, and he brings them up over his head before swinging both whips down in an overhead smash. Dirt, rubble, and sparks explode at random from the point of impact.]
ANNIHILATION!!!
[Ankhet knows what she is about. She did not become one of Dagon's generals by letting an atronach defeat her. He telegraphs his moves plain as day and, though they are impressive in scope and magnitude, now that she is prepared for them they are easier to avoid.
Fire magic is what she has at her disposal, and so fire she continues to pour into him as she darts about, avoiding his ponderous downward strikes. Sparks dart out and impact her flesh, and there is little she can do for that. Still, these stings and shocks are better than taking a whip from a creature nearly twice her size.
She aims a fireball, again more heat than flame, once more for his core.]
THIS VESSEL WILL NOT BE CONFUSED BY YOUR LIES. IT WAS BROUGHT HERE, SURELY THERE IS A WAY FOR IT TO GO BACK.
[Lightning crackles off the golem’s right arm, his fist glowing bright with power. Without warning, he swings his arm in a broad arc, unleashing a brilliant tendril of electricity.] NOW BEGONE!
[That is a lot of lightning. Ankhet is unwilling to risk its touch, not for the sake of her flesh so much as for her magicka. She ducks to the side, clawed toes gripping into the ground as she darts out of the way. Still, the distinct smell of ozone, the jolt of pain scattering through her limbs, tell her she did not avoid the totality of such a strike, only the worst of it.
Fire alights down her arms, and then aims for the Atronach itself. It's more heat than flame, as her adversary has less body to damage as he does blustering winds.]
YOU SPEAK IN TEMPORARY CONCEPTS, FIERY ONE. LORD DAGON DOES NOT LOSE. HE IS DELAYED.
He failed. He failed and the Gates were shut. Your blustering will not change that. Now, be quiet.
THIS ‘SQUALL’ ANSWERS TO LORD DAGON. YOU ARE INSIGNIFICANT. STAND ASIDE OR BE ANNIHILATED.
To Dagon? [She laughs. For a while.] He isn't here, you flash-brained idiot. He lost. He failed.
THIS VESSEL DOES NOT ANSWER TO YOU, INSIGNIFICANT ONE. THE TEMPEST RELENTS FOR NO ONE.
'Insignificant one'? [Her skin flushes orange and yellow, angry.] You are little better than a squall.
[He lets his jaws snap together again, clearly irritable]
If you would be more cooperative, you would be punished less.
