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VENTURES INTO THE REMOTE (RP)

"Get behind me," The Trickster said before the Maiar blade entered his throat and existed from the opposite side. The Trickster gurgled a bit before grabbing the blade's handle and pulling it out. His throat swiftly began to heal after a click of the fingers and he turned around to face Sigeric, his eyes ablaze with fury.
"You little shits, selfish humans so determined that they can stop fate. You can't do it. I guess all that's left is for me to do this," The Trickster said, snapping his fingers.

Sigeric, Ha'zi, Cardiloc, Dimitri, Iver, Thoruk and Grombrindal felt their throats tighten. They couldn't breathe. They slowly began to suffocate, choking to death. The Trickster smirked before turning around to face the figure. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/DeathValley105/74.png" name="DeathValley105"]15756962[/user]
 
With a gleam in his eyes Pyrus would point the wooden dagger towards the Trickster. "Shouldn't of interfered Trickster. Now you die." He would say, his voice deep and rumbling, like an ancient forge. Setting the warhammer on the ground, he would untie a large knobbed mace from his belt and hold it in his left hand, the dagger in the other. With both weapons ready he would charge.
 
Iver knew had had little to no time, so he decided to taunt the trickster before he dies. He grabbed sticks and wrote on the ground "The trickster got tricked" in his last moments.
 
"Pyrus," The Trickster says, taking a defensive position up against his opponent, awaiting the Maia's charge, "You should have stayed in Valinor." The Trickster swiftly turned, avoiding the charge, using his knife to cut at Pyrus's right leg.

The others watched, unable to do anything as they suffocated on the ground. Iver was the first to pass out. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/DeathValley105/74.png" name="DeathValley105"]15756962[/user]
 
The axe smashes into the Trickster, knocking him off balance. Then the mace hit his face, severely damaging it. The man was stunned and idly stood, nearly falling to the ground.

Grimnir saw he had been successful but slowly his eyes closed and he fell into a blank state of inability. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/DeathValley105/74.png" name="DeathValley105"]15756962[/user]
 
Seeing his chance Pyrus would lunge forward hoping to tackle the man. If he succeeded he would smash the mace into the elbow which held the Maiar blade and then with the wooden dagger go to stab him in the heart.
 
The man's weapon fell to the jungle floor and he dazedly muttered, "Don't please. I'll-" the wooden dagger plunged into his heart and he went slack, his body hitting the ground with a thud. The Trickster was dead.

All of them found their breath. The unseen force acting on their necks released. Iver and Grimnir were still passed out but the rest of them were up again.

The disappeared bodies of the slavers, the other slaves and Illmare came back into existence, appearing around them. Illmare awoke, rising up and coughing, to stare at the other Maia.
"Took you long enough." She said.
 
"Where is my fat-" Ha'zi was about to say to the Trickster right as he snapped his fingers, causing him and the others to fall to the ground. His hands went around his throat, gasping for air. Ha'zi's vision slowly went away and everywhere around him seemed to just-- "Huh?" he said. Ha'zi seemed to have awoken, looking around, and saw The Trickster on the ground, unmoving, and the tall man next to him. "Is... is he dead?" Ha'zi asked to the newcomer in shock. [user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/DeathValley105/74.png" name="DeathValley105"]15756962[/user]
 
As the mighty dwarf gets up again he looks up towards the man who had saved them. "Aye..." he takes a deep breath after almost passing out a few moments ago "Aye Durin, you never let me down." he thinks as he gets up, grabbing his axe and sticking it onto his back and slowly approaches the man who had saved them.
 
Daugo could do nothing but gape at how the events had unfolded. So much to take in...
Three years have gone by. His children have missed him for three years.
The Trickster's banter only served to exacerbate his distrust in the Maiar. The fact that the entity had been able to incapacitate Ilmarë with only a snap of the fingers was awe-inspiring, as was the way he could produce objects out of thin air.
He had been about to ask for his children when Sigeric had stabbed him. Idiot. And then that Pruss character had gone and murdered him.

"Can either of you angel folk tell me what the fuck is going on?" says Daugo, his voice quivering with confusion and frustration.
 
"My apologies. I have only just arrived." He'd say to Illmare, standing up with the dagger still in the mans heart. Tying the mace back to his belt he would strode over to his warhammer and lift it up and rest it across his shoulder as if it was as heavy as a shovel. "How bad is it?" He rumbled, turning to Ha'zi and Daugo. "That "man" or the Trickster as he may of told you to call him is a servant of Morgoth, his pathetic role in life is to cause disorder and cause chaos in the life's of men, following the orders of his master. Tricksters are extremely powerful in the arts of magic and can only be killed in certain ways, a wooden dagger to the heart works expelling his magical energy and killing him.
 
Sigeric, gasping for breath, quickly pocketed the Maiar blade before anyone could notice. It would make a wonderful tool of leverage. He rose to his feet, glancing at the newcomer before shifting his gaze to Ilmare. He had not forgotten Eonwe's confession. Sigeric approached the two Maiar, and listened to their conversation.
 
"So, there are more of his kind?" Ha'zi asks, worried. "Why would they look so simple if they are servants of Morgoth?"
 
"Anything he said was a lie. He must be one of the strongest tricksters out there. I've never seen one able to take out a Maiar. He must've embued himself with some sort of enchantments and runic powers." she walked over to his body to examine it.
"Tricksters are servants of Morgoth. They initially were taught by him before beginning to master magic under Sauron the Deceiver. As you can assume, they specialize in tricks. This one was trying to unleash its master by delaying us, allowing the last Giant to escape the island. We must hurry and prevent it from doing so otherwise all is lost. Do we have any other questions?" Illmare asked aloud, clearly angered as well.
"And where is Eonwe?!"

Celeste was asleep. Her face had been whipped, as badly as Dimitri's had been during slavery, she was bleeding from multiple lacerations and her dark silky hair was frisked with dirt as she lay on the jungle floor. She had been targetted by the Whipper for being close to Dimitri. He had promised her he would return and he did but because he asked her to leave the expedition she was hurt because of him. She was his responsibility. This was his fault.

The others were pretty banged up as well. Freida had been beaten to dead and many of them were also injured. There were a total of twenty-nine of them alive. Silesia feinted on Sam's shoulder, her wounds still unbandaged and at risk of infection.
"Wha-where are we going to go? Could you help me?" Sam asked to no one in particular.

Iver and Grimnir awoke in the midst of the Trickster's death.
 
"Well, he's... over there..." Ha'zi gulps, and would take Illmare over to Eonwe's remains near the giant.
 
"Oi, stop standing around in awe and find some stuff to help these people! I need bandages, cleaning stuff. The battle may be won but the war isn't over." Dimitri ordered. "Daugo, help Sam." He then began to tend to Celeste's wounds, quietly singing songs of his youth.
 
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