paixaorpg | Entering the Ice Gate [complete]

Entry tags:

Entering the Ice Gate [complete]

Character(s): Braska, Saïx, Link
Content: Braska enters Paixao and meets Saïx and Dark Link.
Setting: Niflheim Gate
Time: A couple hours before noon
Warnings: Fighting

Braska studied his surroundings, his vision somewhat spotty from the flash of light that had occurred only seconds before. As he did so he quickly realized that this wasn't the Farplane, and, despite the way the foliage sparkled like Macalania Woods, this place didn't look like any he had seen on Spira. As he wondered where he ended up, Braska noticed a line leading up to a large gate.

The gate itself was impressively large and fashioned in such a way that it looked to be made of ice. Temporarily forgetting his manners in favor of curiosity, Braska began walking towards the gate to get a better look at it. He had only been near the structure for a couple seconds when he was startled by a voice. "Name?"

Braska frowned confusedly, looking around to see that he had just accidentally cut to the front of the line. A wave of embarrassment flooded through him. "Oh! No, no! I'm not in line yet. I just wanted to get a closer look, that's all. Please, help these other people first," he said, smiling apologetically.

It was the gatekeeper's turn to look confused. He'd never heard a foreigner give a response like that. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to try again. He had a job to finish, after all. "Name?"

Braska sighed heavily. "My name is Braska." He didn't much appreciate the phrasing of the question, it seemed a bit rude, but as the gatekeeper didn't seem to want to listen to anything else, Braska figured he might as well get himself out of the way as soon as possible. A small machina was given to him along with a pamphlet, and with a "Welcome to Paixao!" he moved along on his way, wondering what had just happened.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Once again, Saïx was hanging around near one of the gates, although this time it was not an attempt to be alone so much as an attempt to escape the growing chaos of the upcoming festival - he had no desire to be swept into such madness and even less desire to actually attend. As a result, he could hardly miss Braska's entrance to the city, standing so near as he was. Perhaps this could offer some welcome distraction from the current set of affairs - and as he no longer wearing the black coat of the Organization but a simple grey shirt and black pants he had relatively little to risk.

"It would appear that you find yourself at something of a loss as to what to do."

Braska turned when he heard the voice. "Actually, I think I am," he replied, grinning slightly, "But I suppose looking around might be a start. Have you just arrived here as well?"

He took a second to study the stranger. He had an odd way of dressing, Braska noticed, but it could have just been an outsider's view. He imagined that his summoner's robes looked far stranger to the individual. Maybe there wasn't even one specific way to dress. Specificity didn't seem to be common in this place to begin with. The buildings seemed to change in style from one to the next with only a few looking to be of the same design. And, even then, those that were similar were often only in clumps and scattered between the mismatched. It gave the place an oddly charming effect, at least in Braska's opinion.

Braska glanced at the items he was currently holding, suddenly realizing that he was going to require assistance with at least one of them. Holding up the odd device he had received, he asked "And would you happen to have any experience with machina? Mine is rather... lacking, to say the least."

Not far away, in a dark alleyway, a shadow was stirring. Shockingly blue eyes blinked at the sudden light, which was revealed moments later to be the end of that same alleyway. Link found himself unbound and well rested, if a bit groggy; the sedative Vexen had used had been quite effective. But now, the Hylian warrior was awake, and very much free.

It was time to get to work.

In his hands, Link found the jeweled hilt of a black sword and a dark-faced shield bearing a frosted relief of a strange coat of arms. It certainly wasn't the bird-like creature motif he was accustomed to, but it looked nice in frosted silver relief against the black field. Equipment with which he was intimately familiar, to say the least.

Burning on the back of his left hand was the trio of golden triangles, the Triforce, that was the focal point of his existence. One glowed bright; the others were dark. But he could feel nearby the presence of one of the others; somewhere near, the holder of the Triforce of Wisdom.

His face set in a cold scowl, Link emerged from the alleyway, never once noticing the blackness of his own skin, that discoloration that marked him as what some would call a dark elf, one fallen from the light. There were others nearby, powerful people, only one of which he recognized - dimly, as if it were the memory of another. A memory of a battle fought and lost...

"Recently, perhaps," he offered in answer to Braska's first question, "although not, perhaps, as recent as you." The second question, on the other hand, gave him some problems - the term 'machina' was hardly one he was familiar with. Perhaps he was referring to the journals? There was only one real way to be sure.
"I cannot claim to familiar with the term, at least, although it is possible, at least, that I know them by another term."

As Link stepped out of the alleyway, senses that had long since been trained to note potential threats went off in the back of his head. A quick glance at Braska's robes (restrictive, not good for quick movements) and staff (too decorative to be useful in combat) painted a none-too-pleasant picture in his mind, should it come to a fight as he slipped quietly into a slightly more defensive stance.

"Not familiar with the term? Well, I knew someone who called them something else for awhile..." What had Jecht called them again? Ah, that was it. "'Machines.'" He tucked away the pamphlet to look over later and turned the device over in his hands. If he could just find out how to activate it...

It was as Braska looked up to see if he needed to elaborate further that he noticed Saïx's change in stance. Most people would've overlooked it, but traveling with an ex-Warrior Monk for three months had had its advantages. He surveyed the area, his eyes eventually landing on Link. It was a brief glance, one that seemed only to acknowledge his presence. Braska acted as though he didn't see anything wrong, though he was already going through his defensive spells in his head.

"Something wrong?" he asked Saïx conversationally, putting away the machina. He doubted that he was going to be needing it in the near future, and didn't want it to be damaged in case something did happen. He was given it for a reason, after all, even if the reason wasn't yet apparent.

Link strode toward the pair purposefully, reworking his grip on the sword and the thongs of his shield as he called to mind a far greater array of spells than he had known the last time he faced Saïx. "I've no interest in the mage," he said, his voice a growl, "but you and I have unfinished business."

Eyes narrowed, Link glared pointedly at Saïx, raising his shield and dropping back into a ready position. There was something different in his stance, something that had been absent before. Where Saïx had faced off against a fledgling with little to no training, now he faced a swordsman trained by the finest weapon masters and magi in Hyrule. This would be no easy battle.

If the mage joined in, there would be trouble, for while Link was quite capable of handling Saïx on his own, he would not be able to battle both the berserker and a skilled mage. Still, there were ways to circumvent magic, and he smiled a grim smile as he cast the first of his spells, one that would reflect any and all magic.

"Perhaps," Saïx answered simply - and truthfully. He could see even now that this opponent was far more experienced than he had been when last they had fought, if they could truly be said to have fought before.

But if this new(?) opponent thought he would have an easy time of it, he would soon come to realize that he was wrong - in the week that had passed since that earlier battle the moon had only grown closer to being full, adding another layer to the strength that had served him well even before becoming a Nobody. Whether or not it would serve to give him the edge in the tide of battle would remain to be seen.

"Come then," he said, turning to Link as his sword appeared in his hands. "Let us conclude that which could not be concluded earlier."

Braska frowned as he heard the stranger's challenge. It seemed as though there was going to be trouble after all. But so soon? He thought he felt a short wave of magic--perhaps a variant of Reflect--and wondered whether he should dispel it. This wasn't his fight. Would it be wise to get involved?

But, as Braska looked around, he realized how many lives would be in danger should they get caught in the crossfire. There was too much risk involved with this, and apparently the two men's rivalry was enough to make them forget this fact. The very least Braska could do was to try and dissuade them from doing any harm. But he wasn't going to be a fool about this. He quickly put up a few defensive spells on himself--Protect and Shell--and debated whether or not to use Haste, but decided that he would only resort to further protection should mediation not work.

"Please, calm down! Or, at least, if you wish to fight, take it somewhere else. Too many people will be put at risk here. I doubt I can sway you to lay aside your weapons, but is a rivalry truly worth the lives of innocents?" Braska sorely didn't want to have to perform a sending today.

Rivalry? Perhaps. But this was a little deeper, in truth. Link's second spell had his blade wreathed in flames, and he more or less ignored Braska as he approached the berserker, except to toss him a few words. "Stay out of this. He needs to be beaten," he said, obviously in reference to Saïx.

As the mage was not casting spells on either Link or Saïx, Link shunted him to the back of his perceptions. He'd need every bit of concentration he could muster to defeat this foe and emerge without serious injury.

"There is nowhere else," Saïx answered simply, without taking his eyes of Link. "There is nowhere that the city does not fade."

The flames enveloping Link's sword hardly caused him to blink an eye - after all, how many times had he seen Axel do much the same? Too many to count, for sure. His only answer to it came in the form of a slight twist of the wrist, a slight flash of moon-pale light as his sword again became sharper.

Likewise, he also largely relegated Braska to the back of his mind. After all, he was not the opponent at hand. And if he could not manage to keep himself out of harm's way, then he should not have chosen to be involved.

"Nowhere else?" "Nowhere that the city does not fade?" They were odd statements, ones that Braska mulled over in his head for a few seconds, quickly realizing that he was being ignored by the two men. On one hand, this was likely to get very dangerous for the people around them, but on the other, this wasn't like breaking up the bickering between his two guardians. Were he to intervene, Braska knew that he would be... Well, perhaps not killed, but in a lot of pain, to say the least.

But... that was a fortune others might not have, and the ex-summoner wasn't about to let people be hurt because these two weren't able to hold in their malice for one another (or at least one of them fit that, Braska wasn't so sure about the blue-haired man). Remembering something his wife had taught him, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a tiny pouch, opening it and, with a quick movement of his hand, sending the glittering dust inside flying. The purifying salt did its job, and Braska felt the magic surrounding the darker-looking of the two fade. He could only hope that the man hadn't noticed his Reflect magic had faded. Braska only had one more pouch of the salt left, and wasting his magic on Dispel after Dispel would only increase the possibility of running out of mana and becoming defenseless.

He quickly came to the decision that it was probably best to put up a Reflect of his own, and hoped that he wouldn't need to Cure himself. Braska had a feeling his actions weren't going to go unnoticed and that they would definitely not be appreciated.

Link saw the mage's movement out of the corner of his eye, and felt his protection leaving him. But that wasn't enough to distract him from the task at hand; Saïx was his opponent.

If he could not keep Reflect in place, he would at least make certain he didn't take -too- much damage. His latest spell turned the air around him briefly red, and he could feel the protective barrier envelop him. (Shield spell is basically Protect and Shell rolled into one, in FF terms; it's a much less powerful version of Nayru's Love, in LoZ terms.)

With no further preamble, Link slashed his sword in Saïx's direction, unleashing a speeding ball of flame.

An interesting trick that, although hardly one that bothered Saïx in the least - he merely sidestepped the fireball in a move that brought him closer to Link. His own blow was far more simple, a slash to his opponent's knees. The shield spell, although noted, was largely ignored. After all, it mattered little how much damage one took if one was weakened from bloodloss. And doubtless he could yet manage to make his opponent bleed.

The people had all fled by this point, Braska noticed. By all means, there was no reason he should be there anymore; the reason he'd even put himself into this situation had run off. So why was he still there?

He could lie to himself all he wanted, saying that he wanted to make sure the two combatants didn't end up dead, but the truth was far more simple and selfish. By the time the fireball had leaped from Link's blade, Braska had realized that the only thing keeping him there right now was a mix of curiosity and fascination. He wanted to know what these two people--a man with an aura of darkness and another who could summon a weapon to himself out of thin air--could do. That wasn't to say he wouldn't completely intervene should things get too heated, as that was the reason he'd gotten rid of the dark man's Reflect, but now wasn't the time.

Link sneered and jumped, landing on the flat of Saïx's blade. Time hung for an instant, just long enough for him to offer the nobody a mocking smirk, and then he backflipped off of the blade. (This is a canon move, by the way. I can probably find a youtube of it somewhere.)

Back on the ground, Link let loose another fireball. This was largely a feint, for he followed immediately with an impossibly high jump and a downward thrust, the magical impact of which would likely crater the ground - or Saïx, whichever it hit first.

Now that was certainly interesting - although still nothing that he hadn't seen before, thanks to living with a certain wind-element lancer. However, he was quite incapable of matching the height of the jump, which ruled out at least one possible answer.

Unlike his opponent, however, he was quite capable of floating at will and he intended to make good use of that fact.

Waiting until after Link had reached the apex of his leap and had begun falling, he leapt up and to the side ... and didn't come down. Of course, he had to go through the fireball to do so, but that was of little concern. The pain, was after all, bearable, for the time being.

As Link fell past, he swung up with his sword, aiming for the torso. With any luck, it would prove hard to dodge while falling.

Braska watched the maneuvers with no less than a sense of awe. How high had the dark man jumped? Braska had only seen heights like that reached by individuals when they were unleashing an overdrive. And, indeed he was reminded of one of Auron's when the man had brought his sword down and left a crater. There was less of an explosion, but there was no question that if the other had been hit, the wound would have been severe.

And then there was the other man... There was much to say about him, yet words wouldn't come to mind. He had gone through fire without flinching and was floating in the air. The ex-summoner hadn't felt any magic being cast, so the reason for this ability evaded him.

Braska was a lot of things. He was curious, impulsive, and stubborn, but he wasn't stupid. He had the feeling that this was only the beginning of what the two could do, and, their intents for each other most likely being deadly, he had the feeling that the situation would only become more dangerous. A crater would be the least of his worries were he to stay. Knowing he wouldn't be noticed, Braska moved away from the two men and further into the city. Maybe he could find a nice place to sit down and figure out the machina he'd received from the gatekeeper.

Link's agility saved him from a painful defeat at this point. While it was true that he could not dodge Saïx's aerial slash, he could twist, and in doing so intercept it with his shield. Knocked from his original trajectory by the force of the blow, Link landed some distance away, one knee on the ground, his shield up, and his sword extended to the rear.

Knowing that he faced an opponent whose strength would likely be the deciding factor, Link's mind raced through its collection of knowledge, both combative and arcane. It was early yet for his most powerful magic, but there was another spell that would do nicely. One that would, at least for a few moments, take his opponent's strength away. (The game lists this simply as 'Spell'. It turns enemies into gelatinous blobs, though I'm altering that a bit, since I don't think Saïx would take too kindly to that. ^_^; )

"Ul'nusst d' vharc!" he cried out, letting the syllables roll from his tongue in the peculiar cadence demanded by the traditional forms.

In the heat of the battle, it seemed that Link had indeed quite forgotten about Braska.

(Saïx may be immune to this. Leaving that up to you. Incantation courtesy of Grey Company's House Maerdyn Drow/Common translator. (http://www.grey-company.org/Maerdyn/resources/translator/index.cgi))

Well, that would most likely get moderately inconvenient - while he did know someone who wielded a shield, it was his primary weapon. And the chance to actually see Vexen fighting came up infrequently at best. But no matter. Sooner or later, he'd find a tactic that worked.

A scowl crossed his face as he heard the unfamiliar spell-words. But whatever his opponent had intended to happen seemed to be unclear, for he felt no different then before. Perhaps the spell had failed - he wouldn't have been surprised if had, given the rather unique nature of Nobodies.

But there was no time to think about that now. After all, he had a fight to finish. A swing of the blade, and a blast of the same energy that had provided for Link's downfall came heading straight his way.

Likewise, Saïx seemed to have quite forgotten about Braska for the time being.

Saïx faced a swordsman who had never truly been beaten, one who learned from mistakes made. In short, Link never fell for the same trick twice, and he was ready for this lashing of energy. His reflection spell was gone, it was true, but he didn't have to stand there and let the blast come to him.

He was high in the air as the energy passed below, and already into the movements of his next attack. His fire spell was gone, but this did not mean he was out of ranged attacks. Far from it.

As his blade flashed in a vicious arc that would come nowhere near Saïx, a peculiar thing happened. His dark sword's blade flickered, and something flashed across the distance between the dark-skinned Hylian and the Nobody. An image of a sword, an image that would cut all too well. The fact that his weakening spell had so obviously failed was of little consequence; it sometimes didn't even work on lesser foes.

Saïx, however, was by and large fairly limited - at least as far as ranged attacks went. Then again, he had never had a real need to use them, after all. If ranged attacks became necessary, there were other members of the Organization better suited to such things. But no matter. He could make do.

Of course, he would first have to get closer. Blocking the sword-image on sheer instinct, he stepped in closer to his foe once again, sword flashing in a diagonal cut; starting low and ending high - about waist-height.

Perhaps this time the blow would hit home.

Link had no way to dodge the slash, nor could he interpose his shield in time to block the main part of the damage. His shielding spell was the only thing that saved him from being cloven in half by Saix's claymore.

Even so, he was wounded, and badly. Maybe it was time to cut his losses and get away.

Speaking a few words in the clipped language he had used before, he smirked at his blue-haired foe, before growling the key word to the cantrip. Magical lightning filled the area, before focusing in on Saix, a dozen bolts at once.

(;_; Sorry this took so long. My computer was (and still is) fried. I'm only able to post this now 'cause Jen pointed me toward something that'll let this ancient machine cope with lj. As per the new rules, you have my full permission to engage Saix in threads of a later date than this one. Sorry I've held you up so long. ;_; -Matt)

Unfortunately, the fact that Saïx was holding to what was, essentially, an overly large lightning rod meant that he was in no position to dodge, merely holding his ground as wave after wave of lightning arrowed in directly on him. Despite himself, he could help but wince - the lightning hurt, much to his chagrin.

But no matter. He had, after all, survived through worse before. Nonetheless, by the time the last bolt fades away, he's dropped to one knee, although whether from the pain or to better weather the blast is uncertain. But from the look in his eyes, he's more than willing to continue the fight, should it be necessary.

((No problem. I don't mind waiting, really.))

Perhaps fortunately for both, Link was nowhere to be seen. The Hylian swordsman was disgusted with himself, both for underestimating his foe - again! - and for allowing himself to be so injured. He could heal himself, true, but he needed rest first - rest he was not likely to be able to get, with a great big gash in his side. If Saix chose to track him, the trail of blood would be more than enough to follow.

Link's salvation, now, seemed to be his single greatest foe in all the city... The bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom. Grimly, he set out, shield strapped to his back, sword in hand, his free hand clutching at the gash, and his face quite ashen.

Perhaps just as fortunately, Saïx was not in a mood to follow his opponent - not like this at least. After all, if he found him there would doubtless be another fight, and he as things stood, he would need some time as well in order to come in to a fight at his best.

Of course, he still planned keep an eye on his opponent, out of some semblance of curiosity, if nothing else - asking one of the Dusks to keep him informed of Link's movements, before calling up a portal to somewhere quieter where he could rest for the time being.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Entering the Ice Gate [complete]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject