Friday, October 16, 2015

Stoney steps slowly off the porch, sending out his awareness along the Wards. Pureblood Gargoyles cannot cast spells, the ability is not within them, but they can channel and trigger ones already set in place by Witches. He finds the weave where the pressure of his trigger thought would open the gate across the forest path.

Drai is suddenly there, appearing in that suddenness that the Fae race always seems half magicked. Stoney raises his hand, palm out, letting Drai know the way was still closed. The Wyldfae nods and his ears twitch, tilting to listen to the woods around him.

*ouverte de s├ęsame

Using his second sight, the Gargoyle watches the weave part, half sinking into the soil, the other half rising and bending back, as if peeled slowly away. Drai holds a hand out, moving it slowly. He nods at Stoney and the Gar crooks a small smile, and nods. The Wyldfae steps through the gate. Two more steps and Stoney blinks, letting the energy go back in place.

^fermer la porte, merci

The magick snaps back in place, weave once again continuous. Power undulates along the unbroken circuit, sparkling gently, comfortingly. Stoney raises eyes, still lost to the magicks, to scan the woods. Small energies flit among the trees, their colors showing Earth and Fae faeries.

Other spells become visible, some mere threads set by Pandora and Rowan which resonate to recognize the Kith and Kin. Inside the Wards are more lines, these holding Chloe's signature, copying the women's magic. These lines seem to merge with small trees just within the tree lines. The trees themselves radiate a vibrant green and a sleeping sentience. The Gargoyle frowns, wondering what this spell was. He makes a mental note to ask Rowan and Pandora's thoughts.

Blinking, he refocuses on Drai, finding the Warrior examining the shadows. Keeping alert, the two men back from the woods into the late afternoon sunlight.

"How long were you out there?"

Drai grins. "Long enough, two days. I slept in the trees. Something wasn't right. So..."

"Merci, mon ami. How close did they get? Any idea who it was."

Anger gathers in the set of the Wyldfae's shoulders. His ears stiffen, twitching in agitation. "It was that bitch of a Priestess. If they had come any closer they would have been dead." He touches the blowpipe tucked in a strap across his chest. "Some poisons have few antidotes. Some, only my People know."

"What happened? If you came in, they are gone."

The Fae nods, ears twitching to listen behind them. A Hellhound slips along the shadows, red eyes gleaming. It huffs a greeting and disappears from sight.

"I was ready as she moved closer. She was inches from the Wards when she went still and turned slowly. Seconds later she and her guards were gone." He tugs at a bead in his hair. "I wasn't the only one watching. I saw what warned her off. A Death Glyph was burned into the tree right behind her. It smelled of the Sorcerer's castings. Powerful sh" Tomas opens the door as the men step across the porch. Spying the little boy, Drai amends his words. "Stuff."

*open sesame

^close gate, thank you

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