The Pathway
ꕤ ꕤ ꕤ |
| ꕤ ꕤ ꕤ |
❤︎❤︎❤︎
𝕭𝖊𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖉 an iron gate found in the patio, with bars twisted with flowering vines. Jutting from the external stone wall hung an ominous warning. The hanging placard read: “DO NOT ENTER: Dangerous Vegetation”. Beyond the gate, a narrow stone path traced the western edge of the Augury Cloister. The walkway was quiet, windswept, and slick with sea salt and moss, its stones worn from time but still orderly beneath one’s steps.
To the right, tall arched windows offered glimpses into the interior of the venue. Though the windows were closed, the scenes through the panes of glass were unusually clear, like paintings in motion.
The first room, also the southernmost room, glimpsed into a small bar, intimate and well-stocked. There were only a few stools, this bar was not meant for lingering. This space functioned more as a conduit than a destination, a place where house-elves darted about preparing and ferrying drinks with practiced grace. Yet a few stayed, perhaps tethered in place by the inebriating influence of the beverages served and the show of skill by the house elf behind the counter.
Farther along, the second window peered into a reading nook, where a grand hearth flickered softly with Floo-connected flame. While most guests emerged into the ballroom, the rare traveler who wished for discretion or privacy might arrive here instead. They would arrive under the watchful shadow of great statures that seem to be carved into the walls, too lifelike for comfort.
Next came the sitting room, subdued and quiet. Upholstered chaise lounges and delicate lighting offered an escape from the grand spectacle beyond. It was a retreat for whispered conversations and unspoken intentions.
The final window, also the northernmost, was like the others from the outside. This vantage point would view a shadowed music room, where an antique piano sat at attention. Well, perhaps the intention was music as a dark figure tickled the ivory keys. While someone barely seen played a few idle notes, soft, drifting strains that could just barely be heard through the glass. The room beyond twisted off into a part of the estate the path could not reach, adding a sense of mystery to its charm. But there was something else, something more. A pair of chairs that looked out the windows, perhaps there to solely enjoy the oceanscape.
It was also here that the path ended.
At its terminus stood a massive potted plant. A thing of great size and unsettling posture. A grotesque parody of a Venus flytrap, its thick, pulsing leaves shifted slightly in the breeze or perhaps in response to sound, the tremor of motion or the breeze. It watched, in the way plants should not. The soil around its base was dark, spongy, and just a little too red.
It seemed to wait. For what, one could only guess.
Some stories should never be told...
The Pathway
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@Edith AlarieBloodroot Poison | Felix Felicis | Weedosoros | Vitamix Potion | Erumpent Potion
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────Samuel Reinhard Sauber said nothing as the rusted iron gate groaned upon his touch as the Duo of Him and Edith entered, its hinges protesting the disturbance as though trying to warn them once last time. The placard, swinging gently in the wind, read like a desperate plea.
" DO NOT ENTER: DANGEROUS VEGETATION"
Overwrought. Vague. Ineffective.
If the intent had been to repel entry, it had failed, though he suspected the sign was never meant to succeed, to deter anyone. It was the sort of melodrama institutions relied on when they didn't expect anyone with the intent to disobey. An aesthetic deterrent. Not a true one.
His polished shoes found silence along the moss-veiled stone path as he walked, one hand loosely clasped behind his back, the other tucked into his suit, hand on wand. The sea air curled along the stones, salted and damp. It softened sound and bent light in subtle, almost imperceptible ways. Occasionally, his eyes flicked towards the windows lining the path's right flank; tall arches set deep in the wall, revealing interior chambers that had once, perhaps, pretended to mystery.
He had no interest in reexamining the rooms beyond the windows, they had already been catalogued in his mind like specimen slides: the overly polished bar with its performative house-elves, the overused hearth in the reading room, the sitting area’s cloying softness. Superficial corners for guests aiming for an attempted play at subtlety. Even the piano room, which might have once offered intrigue, now barely held his attention. There was no need to disturb the air with a sound that would mean nothing.
He had already gleaned what mattered, unfortunately it was much to crowded for action. The route they followed did not aim to entertain. It deliberately avoided the main artery of the venue. Which made it more interesting.
At the path’s end, it waited.
It was the terminus that drew him to stillness.
The plant; if one could still call it that was grotesquely magnificent. It rose like a challenge, coiled, thick and pulsing fronds. Its leaves glistened faintly, as if they exhaled moisture, or perhaps something far less benign, Samuel needed further study to make his assumptions a clear confirmation. The stalk was thick and fibrous, arched forward in a posture that resembled attention, even hunger. Samuel did not approach the unknown creature. He merely observed it from afar.
He couldn't tell if it was breath, muscle mimicry, or residual magic. It was clearly magical in it's origin, and clearly unnatural. Too aware. Too reactive. A defense mechanism, likely, not for show.
The red-tinged soil was too conspicuous to not take note of. It suggested blood but he wasn't sure if it lacked the smell of decay or simply hid by other means. Possibly something more symbolic. Or reactive.
Behind him, the faintest shuffle came as he turned around, just enough to confirm Edith’s presence in a single glance. Still there, watching as he watched. He offered no comment to the girl, understanding she'd be smart enough to handle her own.
"What are you? Sentient or cursed," he said quietly, voice devoid of awe or fear. "Or both."
Samuel rose, eyes narrowing.
It was watching. And he was watching back.
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────Action: Samuel is drinking Felix Felicis and then using Keen-Eye on the plant.
Seven Minutes is all I can spare to grade your HW.
[ sta ] 10 [ eva ] 15 [ str ] 01 [ wis ] 20 [ arc ] 10 [ acc ] 14
The Pathway
There was a sign. Embossed in looping script and nailed to the gate. Time and effort was expended on that sign, basically a warning that said "DON’T YOU DARE GO IN THERE." While the phrasing was proper and succinct, perhaps it would have been better if it simply said what it implied 'don't you dare' perhaps the dramatic flair of a dyslexic elf. At least more effective. What mattered was the warning. Clearly intended to ward off visitors, it was perhaps more a challenge than a deterrent. And yet, adults rarely needed such signs. Adults knew better. They followed the rules, respected boundaries, and colored inside the lines.
Well, most did.
Samuel was not most.
He might have started wars with his crayons or used them as projectiles rather than an expressive outlet. An anomaly among men and an irritant to protocol, Samuel read the sign, ignored it, and stepped through the closed gate like it was an open invitation. The iron bars groaned in protest, as if they were warning him a final time to steer clear. A pair of house-elves stood to the side, clearly mid-departure until his presence made them falter. One looked up, ears twitching. “Mister—” he began, but was silenced by the sharp elbow of his companion. They both stared as Samuel passed, wide-eyed and unblinking, before choosing to mind their own business. Not their garden. Not their wizard. Not their problem.
Beyond the gate, the grass turned patchy, the dirt ruddy. The air changed too. It was now too quiet, the kind of hush that only ever followed violence or promised it.
At the end of the pathway, before the land ended in a sheer cliff, sat a plant. Not merely large, but unnaturally so. Its thick green stalks coiled like muscles beneath skin, and the maw, a gaping, seemingly toothed mouth akin to a Venus flytrap, stood as tall as Samuel himself. It swayed slightly, though it did not bend in the direction the wind pushed.
Samuel was observing his surrounding. He always had a keen set of eyes, noticed things that others overlooked. A thread of pink. Fabric. It dangled from the edges of the plant’s lips. It twitched. The soil was a shade too red, not yet fetid but hinting at something worse. Something that had happened too recent to rot.
“Sentient… or cursed?” Samuel muttered aloud. Then, reconsidering: “...Both?”
The ground answered Samuel's musing before he could come to a conclusion.
It quivered.
At first, just a tremble, then the hard-packed dirt cracked as something surged beneath it.
Roots.
Like blind snakes they burst from the earth, long, fibrous tendrils blackened at the tips. They moved not with the sluggish creep of an ordinary plant but with a hunter’s urgency. They grasped.
The carnivorous plant makes three actions this round:
The ground is no longer still. The garden is no longer quiet.
Samuel is no longer safe.
Well, most did.
Samuel was not most.
He might have started wars with his crayons or used them as projectiles rather than an expressive outlet. An anomaly among men and an irritant to protocol, Samuel read the sign, ignored it, and stepped through the closed gate like it was an open invitation. The iron bars groaned in protest, as if they were warning him a final time to steer clear. A pair of house-elves stood to the side, clearly mid-departure until his presence made them falter. One looked up, ears twitching. “Mister—” he began, but was silenced by the sharp elbow of his companion. They both stared as Samuel passed, wide-eyed and unblinking, before choosing to mind their own business. Not their garden. Not their wizard. Not their problem.
Beyond the gate, the grass turned patchy, the dirt ruddy. The air changed too. It was now too quiet, the kind of hush that only ever followed violence or promised it.
At the end of the pathway, before the land ended in a sheer cliff, sat a plant. Not merely large, but unnaturally so. Its thick green stalks coiled like muscles beneath skin, and the maw, a gaping, seemingly toothed mouth akin to a Venus flytrap, stood as tall as Samuel himself. It swayed slightly, though it did not bend in the direction the wind pushed.
Observation: 15
Samuel was observing his surrounding. He always had a keen set of eyes, noticed things that others overlooked. A thread of pink. Fabric. It dangled from the edges of the plant’s lips. It twitched. The soil was a shade too red, not yet fetid but hinting at something worse. Something that had happened too recent to rot.
“Sentient… or cursed?” Samuel muttered aloud. Then, reconsidering: “...Both?”
He observed the plant with practiced suspicion. It was not in any of the known potion ingredient catalogs. The plant was not in the banned section of the Restricted Herbology Index either. Which, if anything, made it more dangerous. Not because it was hidden from the world, but because it was unstudied. A curiosity. A mistake, perhaps. A mutation. Or... more simply, something that did not offer the same boons as a valued herb that had human benefit. It was always about what a person could get from something. We don't love penguins because they are inherently wonderful, but because we are charmed by them. it is their effect on humanity that gives them value. And for things such as whatever this is, it had value only now as he pondered what use or what threat does this have for me?[Keen Eye: 69]
The ground answered Samuel's musing before he could come to a conclusion.
It quivered.
At first, just a tremble, then the hard-packed dirt cracked as something surged beneath it.
Roots.
Like blind snakes they burst from the earth, long, fibrous tendrils blackened at the tips. They moved not with the sluggish creep of an ordinary plant but with a hunter’s urgency. They grasped.
The carnivorous plant makes three actions this round:
1. Root Snare — Thick vines lash out from the soil, targeting Samuel’s ankles with bone-snapping force, attempting to coil and constrict with unnatural speed.
2. Spores of Confusion — From between its monstrous petals, the plant releases a fine, shimmering dust into the air. The spores catch the light like gold, designed to disorient, to dazzle, to make the mind slip.
3. Snap Maw — The enormous jaw opens wide with a squelch of sap and sinew, teeth like jagged bone gleaming in the gloom. It lunges, not to swallow whole, but to maim, to take something, to test the intruder’s strength.
2. Spores of Confusion — From between its monstrous petals, the plant releases a fine, shimmering dust into the air. The spores catch the light like gold, designed to disorient, to dazzle, to make the mind slip.
3. Snap Maw — The enormous jaw opens wide with a squelch of sap and sinew, teeth like jagged bone gleaming in the gloom. It lunges, not to swallow whole, but to maim, to take something, to test the intruder’s strength.
The ground is no longer still. The garden is no longer quiet.
Samuel is no longer safe.
You have entered combat. You can cast up to 3 spells in a single round. Good luck.
Some stories should never be told...
The Pathway
| Note: French, English, Thoughts | ━━━━━━━━━━━━━ |
DO NOT ENTER: Dangerous Vegetation
Edith looked at Samuel, who did not appear to be fazed by the warning. Her heels switched between clicks and silence as the moss over the stone walkway felt like velvet beneath her soles. She had noticed the two house-elves who simply watched her companion walk past the iron bars, after the gate groaned from its disturbance, This is not the way to the Ballroom... Had it been any other man in company, she would have thought that they were going on a nice, perhaps even romantic stroll.
But this was Samuel.
Like night and day, he was not one for... well, romance.
She glanced around, is he finally going to turn me into an animal? Her eyes narrowed slightly before looking at him, he wouldn't... Would he? Was it because I was late? Shaking her head, Edith resumed looking around, attempting not to reach conclusions that had a great possibility of being wrong. They were walking farther away from the other guests, away from anyone's sight. The air felt different as the silence grew heavy, Wait- why am I following him? She could have just bid him a goodbye before turning on her baby blue heels to go and enjoy the reception, maybe even dance with someone...
Yet her steps followed his.
Her mind was clouded with endless thoughts, endless possibilities as to why he was leading her in what she could rightfully assume was the direct opposite of the wedding reception. Maybe he is lost? A small smile appeared across her face.
Men.
Too stubborn to admit they are lost and too stubborn to ask for help.
Before she could discreetly offer him 'help' in directions, her steps came to a sudden halt, noticing that he had stopped walking. Edith looked up at him just as he took a quick glance at her, but her eyes widened as she saw something else.
Behind him was a plant.
While she had seen many flowers and plants during her time as a florist back in France, she had never seen one that was as tall as the giant man Samuel was. Much to the contrary of Samuel, Edith was in awe; she had never seen such a plant, after all. She would look back at him as her mind finally registered his words, "well... I have never seen such a plant before..."
Her awe would be short-lived.
Edith looked down as she felt the ground tremble like a creature afraid of its own shadow, but she would soon figure it out to be a beast stirring from its slumber. Her breath hitched as the ground cracked and roots emerged, like the stories parents would tell their children if they misbehaved, they moved to grab Samuel. "Sam! Watch out!" Her hand instinctively reached for her wand, her fingers curling around its cold wood. With the tip pointed at the quick roots, Edith was about to cast a spell when something else caught her eye.
In the glow of the sunset, a golden shimmer made her stutter.
Edith's head tilted in momentary confusion, Focus! Blinking, she shook her head. Something was not right, and it was not the slithering roots; the air was thick, and she found herself having trouble focusing, breathing differently. Until it clicked, Edith's arm shot up straight, her whole arm moving in a circular motion overhead as she said in a clear voice, "Metelojinx!"
Hoping it would rid them of the spores of confusion.
━━━━━━━━━━━━
@Samuel Sauber
Actions: Followed Samuel to her death... Casted Metelojinx
Inventory: Weather-modifying Charm (Metelojinx)
Stamina: 15 |Evasion: 10 | Strength: 5 | Wisdom: 15 | ArcPower: 10 | Accuracy: 10
Actions: Followed Samuel to her death... Casted Metelojinx
Inventory: Weather-modifying Charm (Metelojinx)
Stamina: 15 |Evasion: 10 | Strength: 5 | Wisdom: 15 | ArcPower: 10 | Accuracy: 10
━━━━━━━━━━━━
Every soul is an ancient story.
The Pathway
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@Edith AlarieBloodroot Poison | Felix Felicis | Weedosoros | Vitamix Potion | Erumpent Potion
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────The ground trembled as the roots grasping, reaching, like desperate hands crawling toward warmth; Or prey made their way towards the newly minted Potions master.
Lesser men would see fear, Samuel didn't flinch.
He took a single, steady step back as the first root cracked through the soil. His hand slipping inside his coat as his fingers curled around the wand tucked inside its inner lining. The movement was fluid, casual, like one with some experience behind their involuntary actions. He drew it even before the roots tried for his ankles. He didn't wait to make certain it wasn’t just bluster.
Whoever left that board, they weren’t bluffing.
"Ah," he murmured, one brow lifting slightly. "Interesting. That’s new."
He ducked to the side just as one of the tendrils whipped across the space he'd stood in a second prior. It slapped the dirt with a wet thud as the rest of it began appearing, tearing through the ground, sending clumps of soil upward like kicked gravel. Still calm. Still calculating. His mind buzzed not with panic, but with intrigue towards the plant's origins.
The plant was reacting to movement, possibly heat, Samuel wasn't sure, but that didn't add any delay in his response time. Immediate pursuit was on his mind. He still wondered it was instinctual or too specific. Was the plant aware? Too aware?
It knew Samuel was here, that was much clear to the blonde man.
That made the two of them, both aware, both ready.
The roots surged again, aggressively. Their pace quickened, like the plant had decided he was more than just a curiosity now. A threat, perhaps. Or food for it's nutrition.
Before he could cast a spell, a familiar voice cut through the tension.
"Sam! Watch out!"
Edith.
He hadn't forgotten how she had accompanied him. He was, however, surprised she held her ground, shouldn’t have been surprised. She had the personality of someone who always did, for better or worse. But now was hardly the time to question her choices. Not with the soil cracking like splintered glass and the air beginning to grow thick with spores he would soon be able to taste on his tongue.
She cast a Metelojinx overhead. Sharp girl. The spores would certainly be cut through with this if she succeeded.
His head remained ever so clear and sharpened as he finalized a course of action for himself with the support Edith was managing to bring to their side.
Samuel didn't hesitate as he began his assault on their greener aggressor. He only moved forward.
Not back. Never back.
Every instinct would have told a normal wizard to flee. Even now, the smarter man would have dragged the girl with him and returned to the wedding with a believable lie and one hell of a grass stain. But Samuel wasn’t the fearful kind, rather the lack of his ability to feel fear more often than not continued bringing him to scenarios common sense could have avoided.
He was yet to regret any of those decisions and he was not willing to start today.
By now, he was curious. And the plant had his full attention.
He reached into his coat again, pulling free a flask this time, a potion bottle of Weedosorous, Samuel flung it at the plant and watched.
Without waiting, Samuel Cast a Glacius Tria, followed by Bombarda at the plant.
He hoped this would make the plant screamed, or at least, whatever the plant equivalent of a scream was. Something between organic agony and the creak of an old tree falling in a storm.
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────Action: Samuel is throwing Weedosoros at the plant, Glacius Tria and then Bombarda (in that order)
Seven Minutes is all I can spare to grade your HW.
[ sta ] 10 [ eva ] 15 [ str ] 01 [ wis ] 20 [ arc ] 10 [ acc ] 14
The Pathway
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Samuel ignored the sign that clearly warned him to not take the western path. Samuel seemed drawn to the various red flags placed before him, some literally blood red. His not-girlfriend also decided to ignore the warning signs, the varied red flags and track down an obvious walking red flag in time to see a curious sight.
Slartibartfart
HP: 2000 [-706]
Effect: Glacius Tria (R1)
There are numerous carnivorous plants in the wizarding world. However, this specific plant was a relative unknown. The reasons for that are numerous, but the most obvious is that the plant was likely the result of either cross-pollination or hybridization. They would only be able to guess the specific perils of the plant, its weaknesses and means of defense and offense. This is done a few ways, as any good gardener would suggest. Understanding the evolutionary why. Plants such as this are not sentient in the conventional sense, but rather they act in a reflexive manner. Unless they are cursed. But presuming the former is not the case. It was safe to assume that this plant developed a taste for meat because it was the best source of nourishment. This normally happens when a region lacks nutrients, such as wetlands and bogs. This place, while rocky, did not appear barren and this plant certainly did not appear easy to transport...
No time to ponder!
The ground underfoot rumble and roots burst through the earth. The roots attempted to wrap around the man's ankles and pull him to the ground.
Root Snare — roots vines lash out from the soil, targeting Samuel’s ankles with bone-snapping force, attempting to coil and constrict with unnatural speed.
Attack: 3 (+20 Accuracy) 23 Miss
Samuel Evasion: 17 (+15 Evasion) 32
But Samuel was too fast for the roots. Looking where he stepped, he side-stepped the attack and countered with an attack of his own.
Samuel would reach into his pocket, assuming he did not carry a bandoleer of potions everywhere he went. By incredible fortune, he happened to have Weedosoros on his person while attending a wedding. His intended use for this potion is better left to the imagination. He would fling the potion in the plant's direction. The glass would shatter on impact with the hard ground and the potion, toxic to plants, would sear the attacking vegetation.Samuel throws Weedosoros at the plant.
Attack 2 (14 Accuracy) 15 Hit!
Evasion 1 (+10 Evasion) 11
Damage Done: 500
Leafy petals would open. Perhaps that was a silent scream. Not that it mattered, a fine dust would cloud the air.
The spores attack one's mind, one's perception of the world around them. Their sense of fear. Their ability to formulate a plan of attack or escape. The spores would cloud the given area, the both of them would inhale, they had to, and they might feel a rush in their head, but they never lost their focus.Spores of Confusion — From between its monstrous petals, the plant releases a fine, shimmering dust into the air. The spores catch the light like gold, designed to disorient, to dazzle, to make the mind slip.
Attack: 9 (+15 Arcane Power) Failed
Samuel Wisdom Check: 12 (+20 Wisdom)
Attack: 9 (+15 Arcane Power) Failed
Edith Wisdom Check: 16 (+15 Wisdom)
Edith stepped in, willing the already darkening sky to become as black as tar. A pearl of lighting would flash, with a thunderous crash a bolt would hit the plant. Metelojinx summoned a localized storm directly over the fray.
Samuel would draw his wand and cast Glacius Tria. A blast of cold would come over the plant, frost encasing the stem and creeping along their leaves. Soon, the plant would be rendered immobile.Edith Alarie cast Metelojinx
Wisdom Check 5 (+15 Wisdom)
Lightning Bolt starts off each round for 3 rounds, including this round.
Attack 20 (+10 Accuracy) Critical Hit
Evasion 3 (+10 Evasion)
Damage Done: (((100* 10)/5)/3)*1.1 = 73
Stiff, but still mobile, the bloom would attempt to snap at Edith. It would bite into her shoulder, ripping from her a hunk of flesh. She would find herself bleeding profusely, the natural anticoagulants borne in the plant prevented her from naturally clotting.Glacius Tria
Attack 2 (14 Accuracy) 15 Hit!
Evasion 1 (+10 Evasion) 11
Binding target over the course of 3 rounds, at which point it is frozen. Progressive evasion and accuracy loss each round until frozen. Escape attempt at end of each round. 10% stacking.
Samuel had enough of this. When in doubt, explode. He cast Bombarda.Snap Maw — The enormous jaw opens wide with a squelch of sap and sinew, teeth like jagged bone gleaming in the gloom. It lunges, not to swallow whole, but to maim, to take something, to test the intruder’s strength.
Attack: 11 (+20 Accuracy - 2 Glacius tria) 29
Edith Evasion: 19 (+10 Evasion) 29
133 damage done
Bleed II 100 damage/round
The attack would rock the unfortunate plant. Now steaming and freezing all at once, with a storm overhead. The duo would need to make short work of this monster. while neither of them could possibly be aware, something terrible was going down in the ballroom.Bombarda
Attack 19 (+14 Accuracy) 33 Critical Hit!
Evasion 2 (+10 Evasion) 12
133 damage done
Some stories should never be told...
The Pathway
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@Edith AlarieEDITH GOT BIG CHOMPED
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────Samuel saw the roots before they breached the earth, it wasn't precognition, he didn't possess that yet. It was observation, experience; the faint tremor in the stones, the shift in weight beneath his boots. That was enough. A pivot, clean and deliberate, carried Samuel beyond the wretched plant's reach. It's vines clawed at the place where he once stood. Sloppy timing on the plant's part. He expected better from a predator engineered, but then again he might have been one too.
His fingers found the vial in the inner linings of his coat. "Weedosors". A last-minute addition within his inventory. He hadn't packed it with combat in mind, he original intentions were far more nefarious. Not that it mattered, intent was irrelevant right now, Utility was everything.
The bottle shattered on impact. Potion hissed across it's skin. The plant recoiled, a bloom opening in what might’ve been pain or a scream, or simply a biological reflex mimicking it. Nature did love its illusions.
Spores followed.
Of course they fucking did.
He didn’t waste breath cursing or shielding against them. The particles were too fine and far too fast for him to dodge. Inhalation was inevitable, eventually they'd both succumb. A lesser mind might have panicked, spun into confusion or dread, wandered into the trap laid out for them by scentless dust. Samuel however was unfamiliar to both fear and panic.
The momentary disorientation was registered in his mind, cataloged. A flush behind the eyes, a slight tingling along the scalp and then: suppression. Linear thoughts and his focus reduced to a single point. Movement, calculation and elimination. He walked it off, the spores. As he always knew he could.
Meanwhile, A crack split the sky. Lightning struck the green freakish creature.
He turned just slightly to observe it behind his back, Edith’s handiwork. He had to agree, the lady had good instincts, at least when she wasn’t wasting time with sentiment. The storm bloomed overhead, thunder hammering across like applause.
His turn.
Glacius Tria
The spell launched from his wand, jagged and cold, locking the writhing stalks into frost. It hissed, split, froze. Satisfying. Effective and efficinet.
And yet.
The scream was not a sound, not truly. It lunged, teeth where petals should be, and tore into Edith’s shoulder.
His expression didn’t change much, but his movements sharpened. One step forward. Wand raised.
Bombarda.
When in doubt, blast away.
The detonation sent frozen chunks in every direction. Samuel neither flinched nor ducked.
Edith staggered, with a nearly eaten and shoulder.
He approached her side with precision, his eyes dropping to assess the damage. Continued bleeding. Anticoagulants? It was a plant afterall, perhaps designed to keep prey bleeding and disoriented? Samuel wasn't very clear on it, but it did warrant further study.
This biological advantage would've been effective in short-term digestion, but it was utterly Ineffective when confronted with functional wizards like the duo presented here.
He moved his wand over the wound, muttering softly: "Vulnera Sanentur."
"You are not permitted to die today," he said flatly, without looking up.
He rose, eyes returning to the creature. This had gone on long enough. And a man like Samuel was not in the habit of allowing much, even nature, to overstay their welcome.
An Incendio Tria was cast from the wand followed by an Expulso Curse.
Fascinating specimen.
He would return for it. Catalogue it. Dissect it. Perhaps even form one of his own, maybe something far more enhanced than this.
But for now?
It would have to die, it needed to.
And he would ensure it's demise.
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────Action: Samuel is casting Vulnera Sanentur by singing it three times at Edith, Incendio Tria and then Expulso Curse at the Plant.
Seven Minutes is all I can spare to grade your HW.
[ sta ] 10 [ eva ] 15 [ str ] 01 [ wis ] 20 [ arc ] 10 [ acc ] 14
The Pathway
Warning: This post contains the description of blood and a mild mention of trauma. If you are sensitive to these topics, please read with caution.
| Note: French, English, Thoughts | ━━━━━━━━━━━━━ |
Thank Merlin, her tensed shoulders relaxed slightly. Samuel had managed to see the roots and evade them in time. Her arm was still up, the tip of her wand pointed to the sky, when she heard it.
A rumble, a sign.
The sky grew dark, inked in black as her vision began to dim, when the nearly blinding light caught her attention. A snapping flash landed on the large, unknown plant they had managed to pester. Edith was not a fighter; in a world of pain and disconnection, she was of a gentle nature- always seeking what she read in the inked words of her books. Some may even say she was too nice for her own good, or as her stone-like companion would describe her, sentimental. But she liked to think she was simply kind, Oh goodness... her eyes softened, her focus returning once more whilst she silently watched the bolt of energy harm the poor plant, "I'm sorry..."
It was just a plant, after all, it did not know any better...
Right?
Edith's arm would fall to her side just as Samuel raised his, his voice cutting, cold, enough to cause damage. The plant fell under the spell of the Glacius Tria, immediately immobilizing the creature before splitting and tearing everything in its icy wake, causing her heart to skip a beat. The plant appeared to be in tremendous pain, unable to release its anguish, and her heart ached at the sight; she wore her heart on her sleeve, bled for even the smallest creature. Oblivious to the fact that she would soon literally bleed.
Until it was too late.
The plant lunged at her, razor-sharp teeth that no plant should ever have, sank into her shoulder with dangerous ease. A yelp would be heard, the sleeve of her dress torn, missing, along with a hunk of her flesh. Her arm felt cold, odd to the opposing warmth of the blood that trickled down her arm, dripping and staining her baby blue dress. Edith stumbled back, dropping her wand in shock as she reached over to hold her incomplete shoulder.
A part of her refused to look, afraid of what she would see. Her breathing quickened, a chill running up her spine as she heard the sound of her blood dripping off her fingertips and onto the floor. It did not seem to stop, and the dripping sound only appeared to get louder as the world around her faded. Her light began to dim slightly, her mind hearing the whispers and looks she had received as a teen at Beauxbatons for appearing different, as if the newly awarded wound would leave a horrific scar that would make her stick out like a sore thumb, no... please...
Panic.
Flowers always found a way to bloom in even the roughest of environments.
Unaware of the tears that were forming in her amber eyes, she noticed a dark figure approach her. Edith blinked, a single pair of tears rolling down her face before she glanced up, he was not the man who had once held the flicker of a candle in the dark, it was Samuel. Though his attention was on her wound, a part of her began to calm down beneath his assessing gaze, her hand letting go of her bleeding shoulder for him to check.
Fairy tales would call him a knight in shining armour, but to her, he was Sam.
The man who refused to acknowledge that perhaps he was not as stone-like as he portrayed himself to be. Edith would watch him as he sang at a low volume, casting Vulnera Sanentur on her wound before following it with a flat reassurance that she would not have her final breath on the moss-covered walkway. However, there was a hint of something in his wording, as if he would drag her back from the depths of oblivion, had she really seen the end.
Perhaps it was just all in her head...
Perhaps it was the blood loss...
Or perhaps it was not?
Her eyes would follow him as he rose, her voice soft, "Thank you, Sam". Edith knew not to make it a big deal; he would have given her a logical explanation had she said anything else, so instead she smiled softly to herself before turning her gaze toward the plant. Samuel began to cast another spell, well, two spells, and Edith's eyes narrowed in thought, unsure of what to do. She had dropped her wand somewhere, and that took casting spells off the table, but she was not going to let Samuel fight the plant alone, no matter how much she felt for disturbing the plant. I can throw rocks at it?
Carefully, she began to walk around looking for rocks, making sure the plant did not catch her off guard. To her misfortune, she did not find a rock that was big enough to cause any actual damage. With a sigh, she'd glance down.
And a dumb idea crossed her mind.
She would get close enough to the plant before executing the not-so-well-thought-out "plan", but it was all she had. Her unattacked arm would rise, a ray of light got caught on the gem at the tip of her heel, while she made sure to have some sort of angle before launching it with as much strength as she could muster with her thin twig-like arm.
I should start working out if we survive this thing...
━━━━━━━━━━━━
@Samuel Sauber
Actions: Bloody plant took a nab at her... getting healed by a caring Sam? *gasp*... throws a heel at the plant...
Mod Actions: Actively attempting to dodge any attack made by the plant.
Inventory: Weather-modifying Charm (Metelojinx) She has heels though...
Stamina: 15 |Evasion: 10 | Strength: 5 | Wisdom: 15 | ArcPower: 10 | Accuracy: 10
Actions: Bloody plant took a nab at her... getting healed by a caring Sam? *gasp*... throws a heel at the plant...
Mod Actions: Actively attempting to dodge any attack made by the plant.
Inventory: Weather-modifying Charm (Metelojinx) She has heels though...
Stamina: 15 |Evasion: 10 | Strength: 5 | Wisdom: 15 | ArcPower: 10 | Accuracy: 10
━━━━━━━━━━━━
Every soul is an ancient story.
The Pathway
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Samuel was not known for sentiment. He would not have called what he did a kindness. But as Edith bled next to him, the Professor decided it would be less tedious to save her.
Slartibartfart
HP: 1294 [-1200] 94
Effect: Glacius Tria (R2)
A dead colleague was an administrative nightmare. There’d be questions. Paperwork. Letters to lovers and next-of-kin, some of whom would surely be the same person. Grief rituals. Speeches. He might even be expected to care.
So instead of carrying such a mortal burden, Samuel sang.
Softly, in a voice that should have belonged to someone warmer than he’d ever been, Samuel wove the healing spell into melody. “Vulnera Sanentur.”
Her wounds closed. The bleeding stopped as abruptly as it began. She was thankful, verbally at least. Then she yanked her heel off and hurled it at the plant One might have mistaken the woman for a wizard if she made another choice, like manipulated forces of nature of reality itself to subdue the ravenous plant.Samuel casts Vulnera Sanentur on Edith.
Wisdom 20 (no WDC roll)
Bleeding stopped
Full Health
It missed. Spectacularly. The shoe bounced off a rock with a sad little thud, did a little spin and then plummeted into the choppy waters below. What did she teach again? Little did she know, the Muggle Studies professor is well-versed on shoe-based combat, she once knocked out three people with a single strike of a shoe. True story.Edith throws a shoe at the plant.
Attack: 11 (+10) = 21 Miss.
Plant Evasion: 16 (+10 - 4 Glacius Tria) = 22
Samuel barely had time to sigh before the plant struck back. A whip-like vine lashed out, barbed with red thorns, aiming for Samuel's wrist.
The whip hits Samuel and a shallow cut blooms. Blood, just a thin series of lines. Scratches, but unacceptable to the perfectionist. Edith could waste her turn, but he had no such luxury.Thorn whip at Samuel
Attack: 15 (+20 - 4 Glacius Tria) 31 Hit
Target: 15 (+15) 30
Bleed I (50 damage/ round)
200 damage
Samuel raised his wand and unleashed fire.
The flames curled wide, igniting a section of vines that would creep towards the writhing center. From the lips of the main body of the plant smoke billowed. Somewhere deep in the foliage, the dying elf's body steamed unseen.Samuel casts Incendio Tria at the plant.
Wisdom 20 (no WDC)
Attack: 13 (+14) Hit
Plant Evasion: 15 (+1 - 4 Glacius Tria)
Damage: 1200
The plant recoiled, then retaliated, snapping one of its thorny pods open and spitting corrosive sap in a wide arc.
Edith tumbled out of the way, only one shoe and a bit over-dressed for acrobatics on a clidd's edge, but she was a less reasonable woman than one might assume. The acid burned the grass at the site she had stood. Samuel barely evaded the surprise assault, had he not successfully cast Glacius Tria moments earlier, he would have been burned by the acid just then.Acid Spurt targeting Edith and Samuel
Attack (Edith): 15 (+20 - 4 Glacius Tria) 25 Miss
Evasion (Edith): 20 (+10) 30Critical Success
Attack (Samuel): 2 (+20 -4 Glacius Tria) 18 Miss
Evasion (Samuel): 4 (+15) 19
Samuel was not done. Rage, precise and calculated, guided his skilled hand. He traced a quick rune in the air and loosed the Expulso Curse.
A catastrophic miss. The curse sputtered, veering off and exploding a moss-covered rock three meters away. It sounded like a gunshot in a storm. A spell this poor was beneath him. Pride, saved only by perfectionism. A lesser man would have found that the spell backfired.Samuel casts Expulso at the plant.
Wisdom 20 (no WDC)
Attack: 1 critical fail negated by perfectionism Miss
Plant Evasion: 12
Roots surged through the ground and attempted to grab at Edith. The plant attempted to coil around her legs, pull her to the ground and drag her to its waiting maw. The plant, now wounded, was furious.
Edith seems to have all of the luck and then none. Her tuck and tumble avoided the acid splash but not the vine that wrapped around her bare ankle. It gabbed her tight enough that she would feel her bone SNAP under its vice-like grip as it pulled her off her feet and started retracting the vine in an attempt to pull her to it's waiting, hungry maw.Vine Snare targeting Edith
Attack 20 (+20 - 4 Glacius Tria) critical hit Hit
Evasion 17 (15)
Contested Strength Check 2 Success
Contested Strength Check 5
200 damage
Broken Leg - disadvantage on evasion rolls
Pulling Edith into the waiting maw of the plant - will consume in 2 rounds.
May attempt to escape by destroying the vine (cutting), KO'ing the plant or using a strength check to escape.
Frost continued to extend across the stem of the plant.
Plant attempts to break free.
Roll: 29 Failed
Some stories should never be told...
The Pathway
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@Edith AlarieEDITH STOP TRYING TO SPEEDRUN DEATH
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────The success of Vulnera Sanentur brought Samuel no rush of pride or warm flicker of relief. Only the signs of measured satisfaction for a job done correctly were present on his features for a brief moment. Edith was no longer bleeding out beside Samuel, which meant she was no longer on the verge of becoming an inconvenient corpse and getting in his way.
That was enough, for now. A dead colleague in his line of work meant delays, investigations, and paperwork he had no desire to touch. He did not wish to experience the kind of attention it would bring to his past.
Relieved of the tedium of her potential demise, his attention returned to the matter at hand: the grotesque monstrosity continuingly blocking their path, slick foliage curling and snapping like the limbs of something that understood far too much than what was deemed necessary for a plant.
Its movements were slower now, the tendrils seemingly more hesitant from the ice, its central stem scorched from his earlier Incendio Tria. Yet, Samuel knew better than to mistake weakness for defeat. Plants, specially ones with enough intent and bloodlust to develop a taste for sentient food, were stubborn things to get rid of.
Earlier, Edith had surprised him, not necessarily with her skill, but with the initiative she had chosen to take.
He wasn’t entirely sure what she intended or assumed would be the outcome when she yanked off her shoe and hurled it at the creature. A strange choice, though perhaps not unprecedented for those more attuned to baser Muggle instincts.
What was baffling however, was how she had still managed to miss by a spectacular margin. The shoe had spun, clattered off a rock, leaving them with one fewer weapon and no clearer path to victory then when they had begun.
Samuel thought how, perhaps Edith was not the best person to accompany him into this unexpected fight for their lives. And yet, the woman possessed spirit. That intangible extra quality had managed to carry more people to survival than mere run of the mill technical training ever had been capable of.
Spirit could push someone through the moment where skills faltered; it could make a person swing a shoe in the first place. Edith, for all her unconventional methodology and a pitiful softer heart for all things plants, clearly possessed it.
His brief confusion at her actions was interrupted by the plant’s retaliation towards the potions master as a vine lashed out toward him with startling speed, scraping against his wrist. The shallow cut it left was nothing to focus on in the grand scheme of things, but the slow, steady bead of blood was a constant reminder of him momentarily losing focus.
Samuel prided himself on never letting an opponent; plant or otherwise, land a hit upon his being.
His Incendio Tria had landed perfectly, flames curling along blackening vines and leaving smoke to drift lazily from the wounds. The plant was weaker now, less aggressive in its thrashing, but Samuel’s mind was still driven by precision and perfectionism instilled within him.
What followed Samuel's Incendio Tria was one of the plant’s bulbous pods snapping open with an audible pop, as it sprayed a wide arc of corrosive sap from it's body. Samuel sidestepped with calculated efficiency, the *Glacius Tria* he’d cast earlier buying him just enough room to move away unscathed. His companion, Edith, ever the unconventional, flung herself into a move that looked more suited to a dueling arena than the uneven, treacherous cliff edge they were presently standing on. She avoided the acid with flourish in her steps and an unfounded flair Samuel had yet to expect.
He was far from calling this ordeal finished. One clean, decisive strike was all he wanted and the Expulso he cast next should have followed his will. Instead, the curse veered pitifully away from the plant, detonating against a moss-covered rock a few meters away. The sound cracked across the cliffs like a gunshot, but it accomplished nothing more than broadcasting his error to anyone who might have been within earshot.
For Samuel, this was intolerable. Every spell had to land. Every strike was deliberate. There was no excuse for a wasted move, and certainly none for such a miss as awful as this.
He was just beginning to take stock of their latest positions when the treacherous plant made it's next move.
A thick vine, still smoking faintly from the fire earlier, whipped forward and looped tightly around Edith’s bare ankle. The moment the grip tightened, her body was yanked off her feet with brutal force, dragged across the ground toward the plant’s open, thorn-ringed maw.
It was almost admirable, the way the creature had singled out the weaker link, shifted its focus towards it, and committed to its target. It demonstrated an degree of battle awareness that made this battle more dangerous than Samuel had initially anticipated.
But strategy or not, its choice dictated his. The plant had to be eliminated before it swallowed the already traumatized Edith whole.
His stance shifted, boots firm on the ground, and his wand carved a sharp, precise line through the air. His voice was cold, clipped, as he spoke the incantation: Diffindo. He didn’t shout instructions or questions at Edith. Simply believed she would take the opportunity to free herself further. Her actions were immaterial to the next steps he would take anyway.
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────Action: Samuel is casting Diffindo at the vine dragging Edith, Incendio Tria and then Expulso Curse at the Plant. (Only if Incendio doesn't work his way, otherwise please cast Brackium Emendo at edith's broken bone)
Seven Minutes is all I can spare to grade your HW.
[ sta ] 10 [ eva ] 15 [ str ] 01 [ wis ] 20 [ arc ] 10 [ acc ] 14