Fomorian Vendetta

[obsidianserpent]

​

The rising sun scarcely illuminated the forest sky. Betwixt neatly stacked piles of elk and eagle bones, Cernunnos sat cross-legged within a circle of cairn stones, hands interlaced, gazing upon the withered form of his deceased tutor. Life's breath had left Dagda only moments before. A single tear trailed down the fairy's pale cheek. The tenets of the Blood Thicket held that the enlightened soul neither fears death, nor seeks to hasten its arrival, but at the moment this platitude did little to console him.

Dagda had been the most feared of their kind, and for good reason; his ability to animate flesh and bone was rivaled only by Cernunnos's own. Dagda was well versed in the spells and songs of Autumn, and his understanding of the cosmic balance to which few within their order remained true was unparalleled. He alone possessed the knowledge and training necessary to repel the denizens of Fomoria. When Niamh's treacherous blade finally returned him to the Wyrd Born wheel, so too did his magical wards lose their succor, and powerful enchantments holding their order's spurned ilk at bay were laid bare. With a few spells and whatever magical reagents the Umber Grove had to spare, Cernunnos hoped to delay his undead pursuer for as long as possible.

Dagda had clung to life up until his final moments. His unyielding will and powerful sorcery had purchased Cernunnos precious time with which to prepare for the inevitable battle to come. The Wardens had been rallied. If there was ever an opportunity for these sentinels to prove the merits of their order, it was now.

For a moment he began to reminisce of more peaceful times: when the hive was unified in its purpose, his former brothers and sisters by his side, unlocking the secrets of life and death as their kind had for centuries- but he stopped himself. This was not the time for such musing; if he was to survive the night, he would need to unleash upon Niamh the full fury of his powers. He could show no mercy, for he would receive none.

Umber Grove
​

Cernunnos gazed upon Dagda's withered corpse. Decrepit as he may have been, he was nevertheless a Wyrd Born. To the men of the northern mountain tribes, such sorcerous fae were hunted as prized commodities: their organs harvested and sold to sadistic warlocks from across the eastern sea. Even in death, his flesh teamed with Nwyfre: flesh which Cernunnos would now seize in order to see his tutor and friend avenged.

The wind ruffled Cernunnos's feathered robes. He rose to his feet and waved his hand, sharp fingernails unfurling like an eagle's talons high over Dagda's still-tepid corpse. His eyes turned pale as alabaster. Like a weaver, not of thread but spirit, the Wyrd Born tethered his own soul to the corpse. Brilliant, turquoise flames engulfed the curled-up body. Shards of bone collided, fusing together as long, swollen muscle fibers covered the surface of the now-hardened mass. A pale, serpentine creature, roughly the length of his dead tutor, emerged from the bloodcurdling transformation. Its eyes were black as pits and a pointed column of bone protruded from the base of its tail. His fresh reanimation flared its fanged maw, hissed in a nightmarish cacophony, then coiled around Cernunnos's arm.

"The birth of the Blight Viper...it's been some time since I've witnessed such things, Cernunnos." The shrill, tri-tonal voice echoed through the pine clearing. Black smoke emerged seemingly out of nowhere, swirling about the perimeter before coalescing into the form of a fairy most familiar to Cernunnos. Iron ornaments adorned her snow-white flesh, and a headdress of horns, runestones, and iron charms trailed down her back. Her features, though haunting, were delicate and refined, while her bloodstained lips spoke to something much more feral lurking within.

Blight Viper/Niamh the Betrayer
​

"Dagda loved you like a daughter, Niamh. This heinous treachery shall not go unpunished," Cernunnos said. The woman cackled.

"Chastise me if you must, Horned Serpent. The old fool had grown too dangerous to let live. Would that I could have buried that spike in his heart centuries ago. Surrender the Uaithne and I shall redeem this land for the glory of Fomoria, granting it a veritable baptism by blood!"

"Such hubris. You have not yet seen the full scope of my powers, lich. But you shall!" His minion coiled tightly around his arm.

"This should be fun!" Niamh readied a black, iron wand within her grip, blood flooding her eyes with each syllable of her dreaded spell.

Cernunnos' hair stood on edge. He summoned shards of bone from the nearby piles with a quick gesture. As if of their own accord, the pieces burrowed into the ground directly in front of him, instantly fusing together. But the makeshift, calcified shield proved insufficient defense, for, with a single incantation from Niamh's lips, tendrils of violet energy and concussive force shattered it in an instant. Bone shrapnel pierced Cernunnos's side and shoulder as he tumbled across the ground. He curled over, a sudden wave of nausea seizing his abdomen. There was something unspeakably harrowing about the magic Niamh employed. Throes shot up and down the length of his bloodied side. Eilidh would soon come to his aid; he could not yield just yet.

Cernunnos struggled to his feet. The taste of blood spread across his pallet. He signaled his minion to slither into position as his eyes regained their pearly hue. "Kill". The creature responded to his psychic commands as though a puppet on strings, lifting its head into the air in a horrifying, majestic display before dousing Niamh in streams of acid from its hollowed fangs. The scent of corroded flesh accompanied the lich's screams. "Falana, Vasir," Cernunnos whispered in the tongue of Spring. The urns of oil, scattered about the henge, lit up in a furious blaze. Plumes of enchanted smoke soothed his wounds and obscured everything in the immediate area, granting him a moment of much-needed reprieve.

 

[Peregrine]

Valley of the Blood Thicket Sanctuary​

It would still be several hours before the first rays of sunlight reached the depths of the Blood Thicket Valley and dispersed the mists that had risen among the dark pines. But the towering stone cliffs that rose above the valley's ridges, guarding its borders, could not keep out the faint pinkish color that had stained the air, signaling the beginnings of a new day.

Eilidh had spent the night nestled into the fold of a pine's split trunk, back resting against the sweet smelling bark. The wind flowing up the valley tugged at her full brown locks, lifting her voluminous curls up over her head. Eilidh had always loved doing Harmonization with her back against a tree. The very breath of nature seemed to flow through her body, allowing her to balance and purify the natural energy that existed within her.

Days within the Valley flowed together like trickling water. It had been a long time since Eilidh had been asked to do anything more fearsome than drive out a bear that had wandered its way into the fae's valley. But as the Captain of the Order of Wardens stationed within the Blood Thicket Sanctuary, Eilidh would never allow anything less than peak combat readiness from herself and her subordinates. That meant daily training and Harmonization, weekly combat drills, and the regular creation and update of emergency plans for various disasters that could strike the Valley.

At the base of the tree, Eilidh could hear faint chanting. The necromancers of the sanctuary were up at dawn as well, preparing a ceremony around the Wyrding Tree. Dagda and Cernunnos could be returning soon from the Lunar Eclipse ritual, and the rest of the Thicket would be responsible for channeling and healing the Nwyfre the ritual had gathered.

The Wyrding Tree​

Yet Eilidh didn't have much time for contemplation of the ritual. In that instant, a strange, crimson glow and a burst of tingling static racing up her spine snapped her out of her vague reverie. Eilidh's hand darted down to her side, revealing a row of tiny vials, strung together onto a cord. One of the vials, marked with the symbol of a horned serpent, glowed an ominous, dark red.

Eilidh dropped from the tree without a second to spare, landing on the forest floor with almost feline grace. She darted to the base of the tree, grabbing the double-tipped spear she had leaned against the trunk, before using a strap to quickly string it across her back. A moment later, she'd fished a bone whistle out of one of the bags tied to her waist, letting out three, sharp bursts. The noise echoed ominously through the foggy valley, interrupting the necromancer's chanting.

The vials were emergency signals, tied to a fae's blood. It was the highest emergency signal that existed in the Valley, and none would dare issue it lightly. Proper procedure demanded Eilidh wait for the other Wardens to gather, so that they could face the threat as a united front, but Eilidh didn't dare wait. Cernunnos was one of the strongest in their Order, and if even he was requesting aid a couple of seconds could completely change his fate.

Ripping the vial off her belt, Eilidh cracked it open on the ground. The misty red plume that rose from the shattered glass swirled in the air for a second, before gathering together to form the familiar stone circle of Umber Grove.

Before the image had finished consolidating Eilidh was already running, hurtling down the valley, feet leaping and landing amongst the rugged terrain. Her breath moved rhythmically in and out of her lungs, even as the weight of her spear bounced against her back.

Umber Grove rested at the very base of the Blood Thicket Valley, where the stream spread into a pool as the mountains transitioned to moor. It was a run she normally expected her Wardens to complete in an hour and a half, down twenty miles of slopes and boulders. Yet Eilidh was determined to do it in half that. Cernunnos needed her help, and she wasn't going to leave him waiting. The rest of the Wardens would follow in her footsteps, there to support the situation as long as she could keep it stable long enough for them to catch up.

The needles of the passing trees were a blur, the sound of the creek completely buried under the rasp of her own breath and the whistle of air near her pointed ears. Eilidh unconsciously clenched and unclenched her fists. She had to make it in time.

 

[obsidianserpent]

Cernunnos retreated behind a large cairn stone. He pulled bone shrapnel from his body and inhaled the enchanted smoke. The pain subsided some as his wounds scabbed over before his very eyes. He commanded his viper to recoil into position and prepare for another assault.

Niamh regained her footing, acid still eating away at bits of undead flesh.

"Return to the wheel, Wyrd Born!" Niamh said, her voice growing deeper and somehow even more unsettling.

She raised her iron wand high into the air, chanting in the same foreign, Fomorian tongue. Storm clouds brewed overhead. A bolt of lightning ripped through the sky, striking the iron wand and pulsing through Niamh's body. Her flesh began to slough off in a grisly display. Black smoke billowed from her eyes and mouth, which were now agape, gazing upward at the sky. From beneath layers of carnage emerged a massive, skeletal figure with glowing red eyes. She was nearly as tall as the surrounding pines and her iron wand was now the size of a giant maul. Streams of blood flowed constantly around her as a sickly yellow vapor rose from her pallid skin.

Niamh reached her large, bony hands toward the heavens, spells ever spilling from her lips. Small glimmers of orange light quickly turned into raging balls of fire as summoned meteorites rained down from the heavens. Cernunnos summoned a bone wand from his waist and held it firmly within his grasp.

"Ashana kisa," Cernunnos whispered in the tongue of Autumn.

In an instant, Cernunnos vanished in a cloud of vapor, narrowly dodging one of the plummeting firestones. He shifted in and out of the shattered Wyrd Weave, emerging beneath an outcropping of stone roughly a quarter mile away. He gasped, struggling to catch his breath, his hands trembling. He'd already fled through the weave from the Shrine of Gealach and had now stepped through it once more. His inner reserves of purified Nwyfre were low; it would be some time before he could conjure another wyrd gate.

Flaming rock continued to rain down upon the Umber Grove, setting it ablaze. Through the ash and smoldering timber, Eilidh's silhouette came rapidly into view; the Warden had arrived at last.

"Eilidh, Niamh has betrayed us; aid me!"

 

[Peregrine]

Eilidh had long lost track of how long she'd been running, nothing but the count of her breath, the beating of her heart, and a deep familiarity with the Blood Thicket Valley allowing her to keep track of how far she'd gone, how much further she had to go. Only the thought of moving just a little bit faster, getting there just a little bit sooner, kept driving her forward.

She'd almost reached the base of the valley, the dense morning fog still obscuring the view of Umber Grove and the Northern Moor from sight. But no fog could block the sudden glow of firelight that rained from the sky. Eilidh's rhythmic breath hitched in her throat, her heart contracting in panic. As a Warden, Eilidh might not be capable of using any of the seasons to cast magic, but that didn't mean she couldn't recognize it. Meteor conjuration, the School of Autumn. Cernunnos?

And yet, something about the sight of those falling meteors made her stomach twist, and her bones feel like they were burning. Burning in a way they hadn't since the day she'd graduated from the Warden's Den and anti-fomorian runes had been inked into her skin and bones. Eilidh forced herself to run a bit faster, eyes trained on the falling fire.

The fog was soon replaced with ash and smoke, further darkening the faint light of dawn as the sun barely crested the horizon. Instead, its light was replaced with the deadly, flickering orange glow, casting the surrounding area into starkly contrasted shadow. From among the flames and smoke, Eilidh could barely make out a giant figure, and the pinpricks of bloody red eyes.

Her body was reacting even before Cernunnos' cry reached her ears, feet skidding to a halt, sending dust rising in front of her, hands fluidly unhooking the spear from its strap and sending it swishing out in front of her. Eilidh could no longer attribute the faint burning sensation in her bones to mere unease. Fomorian energy filled the air.

Even with the distortion of the flame-heated air, there was no way Eilidh could see any trace of Niamh's thin figure in the skeletal monstrosity that loomed before her. For a moment, the Warden could swear she heard faint, light laughter, the familiar voice of a familiar fae gleeful at the sight of the summer butterflies that danced through the Valley.

But Eilidh did not allow herself to falter at the sweetness of this memory. It did not matter to her who this monstrosity had once been. All that mattered was the figure before her was an enemy.

"Lich!" Eilidh screeched, one of the runes on her fingerless gauntlet starting to glow with a pure, pale amber shade. Light was the enemy of the undead, Fomorian corrupted or not. The light quickly began to flow up the gauntlet, integrating with the wooden body of her spear.

"You defile this sacred valley. Be gone, accursed one! Flee, before the rest of the Wardens arrive, and we see your bones ground into dust."

Eilidh knew her words would not be sufficient to chase the lich away. Not when it had arrived in such a destructive manner. But the rest of the Wardens would be hot on Eilidh's path, drawn by the sight of flames. They simply had to hold out until reinforcements arrived.

 

[obsidianserpent]

Cernunnos leaped from the rocky outcropping and maneuvered as stealthily as possible through the pines of the valley. The glow of Eilidh's gauntlet pierced through the pervading blanket of mist and smoke. The Warden had traversed the distance between the Wyrding Tree and Umber Grove with staggering speed; how far off the remaining reinforcements were, Cernunnos could not say.

Niamh slammed her iron cudgel of a wand into the fertile earth. Runes etched upon its surface burned with red-hot intensity. The streams of blood ever circling about her skeletal form sprawled across the ground in crimson tendrils, withering all trees and foilage with which they came in contact. A brief but fierce earthquake ensued, tearing apart the burning terrain of the forest and northern moor.

"You must destroy her wand, Eilidh. That gauntlet upon your wrist may be one of the few artifacts capable of such a feat. Shatter her focus and her Fomorian powers will wane," Cernunnos said against the background of the burning forest.

He waved his hands in elaborate gestures, tapping into the nearby piles of bones through his Wyrd Born soul. Through sheer will, he whipped skeletal shrapnel into a violent tornado and sent it hurling toward his foe. Niamh twirled her wand in front of her in a defensive posture, erecting a magical barrier of static force. Whatever shards weren't intercepted by Niamh's shield, carved away at her flesh.

"Strike now, sister! I shall distract her for as long as I can!" Cernnunos said, his eyes pale and claws unfurled, struggling to hold his bone storm intact.

 

[Peregrine]

The bloody tendrils emerging from the lich's staff parted before the golden glow that emanated from Eilidh's spear, accompanied by a faint hissing and spitting noise. And yet, the withering foliage of the once-lush valley seemed to only feed the rapid spread of the corruption, filling the air full of ash and flame with an additional deep, bloody hue. Eilidh felt a burning in her nose and eyes, but the stabbing pain only caused her to tighten her grip on her spear, the glow from her gauntlet briefly flaring brighter.

The Lich's corrupted voice, painful to the ear like the cut of jagged bone against flesh, ripped through the air. Hoarse and transformed to match her new monstrous form. "Come! Attack! You weak, pitiful creatures. Resist the inevitable! I shall show you futility."

Her staff seemed to cut apart space, a bloody barrier materializing around her. Half of the bone shrapnel sunk in amongst its crimson depths, never to be seen again. The other, deflected to the side, before being forcibly curved back by Cernnunos' iron will. Eilidh did not let the opportunity he had created go to waste. Her feet dug into the loose earth as she charged forward, a trilling keen erupting from her lips. The faint white shards seemed to part around her, inflicting no damage as she approached her foe.

Spear twirling through the air, Eilidh darted around the side of the lich, spear piercing towards the monstrosity's chest. Eilidh had not forgotten her target, but she knew well the habits of the undead. Bones cared not for pain, and Fomorian energy could stitch wounds back together. That lack of vigilance might present her only opportunity to strike.

One tendril of the lich's barrier seemed to disengage from the rest, unerringly aiming for the tip of Eilidh's spear. At the last instant Eilidh twisted to the side, her spear moving from a jab into a swipe, the Fomorian energy slipping past and deflecting against the glowing leather of her gauntlet. The dark energy faded at the touch of light, even as Eilidh's spear swiped across the lich's arm.

The bones crumbled slightly under the touch of light, before a blast of Fomorian energy slammed into Eilidh's chest, flinging her backwards. The dark-skinned fae tumbled in midair, landing with catlike grace only a few feet away. With no hesitation, she charged back into battle.

The light from her spear continually struck against Niamh's corrupted shield, slipping past for an instant, leaving gashes in bone that faded only a moment later. The bone shrapnel swirled around them both, seeking any weakness, preventing the entire might of Niamh's energy from coming crashing down upon Eilidh's head.

And, finally, as the blood around them seemed to surge up like a tidal wave, having swallowed all trace of life in their vicinity other than the two struggling fae, Eilidh saw her chance. Rather than worry about the approaching spear, the lich turned her darkened gaze towards the next wave of bone from Cernnunos, leaving only a single tendril of energy to fend of Eilidh's blow.

Eilidh struck forward faster and fiercer than she had ever done, gathering every scrap of energy in her body into the blow. The light around her spear practically erupted, even as the glow on her gauntlet faded dim. The tip of Eilidh's spear, glowing as vividly as the sun, struck unerringly into Niamh's wand.

Unnatural energy erupted the instant the two forces collided, Eilidh's scream of resistance blending with Niamh's shout of surprise and despair. The fae was forced to grit her teeth tightly, ignoring the burning of her bones as Niamh's energy turned to assault her, ripping into her skin and burrowing under her flesh. The fighting powers abruptly came to a cease, the energy erupting into a mighty explosion of light and shadow that saw the wand at the center of the conflict shattered into fragments, and then faded into dust.

Eilidh, too, was flung backwards, but this time she didn't resist the force. Instead, she borrowed its momentum, flying as far from their point of collision as possible.

 

[obsidianserpent]

The pulse of energy erupting from Niamh's shattered rod knocked Cernunnos from his feet. A fresh wave of pain rushed through his side and shoulder. Eilidh had fulfilled her aim, her well-calculated attack breaking Niamh's connection to her Fomorian masters and rendering the lich vulnerable. Cernunnos glanced at the nearly depleted piles of bone shrapnel. Fortunately, the streams of blood ever swirling about the lich finally abated with the rod's destruction. Her incredible size diminished some as a visibly agonized expression spread across her once again recognizable face.

"Pitiful creatures! Forget not that the blood of Fomoria still flows through these veins. Brother, sister, join me in death, and we shall leave a scar upon this land that shall not heal for a thousand seasons," Niamh said, unsheathing the same iron dagger with which she'd murdered Dagda. A subtle humming filled the air, quickly progressing into a sonic boom that forced Cernunnos to cover his ears. The lich's dagger began to glow with piercing, crimson light. She turned it toward her own chest, speaking in the same scarcely recognizable tongue.

"Eilidh, run!" Cernunnos shouted against the commotion. For a moment, he considered summoning another gate, but his inner reserves of natural energy were still far too exhausted. He ducked behind a nearby pine and once more commanded his blight viper to slither into position. The creature flattened its neck, forming a broad hood before coiling around the wyrd born in a protective stance.

What proceeded was unlike anything Cernunnos could have imagined. From the lich's broken form erupted a titanic torrent of blood. Scarlet currents picked up fallen trees, stones, and other debris, quickly forming a tidal wave of destruction that raced across the ruined landscape. Cernunnos gripped a cluster of tree roots before being completely submerged by Niamh's bloody assault. The stream carried with it the taint of Fomorian magic. Visions of Dagda's death flashed before him as a nagging, ineffable prickling seized every inch of his body. Darkness began to overtake him, but not before the consoling echo of the Warden's horn reverberated through the skies. Aid had arrived at last.

 

[Peregrine]

Eilidh landed heavily from her forced assault against the lich's staff, rolling a couple of times along the rough forest ground. Pine needles and plant matter collected in her halo of brown hair, but the Warden had no time to worry about such a minor inconvenience. Instead, she sputtered out a groan, one hand reaching up to cross her chest and cling to her shoulder, legs half curled as she slumped weakly against the ground. Fierce red marks shifted across her dark skin, evidence of the war of energies currently ongoing in her body.

Cernunnos' voice echoed in her ears, faint an unclear. Still, the captain forced her way to her feet, suppressing another groan of pain and wiping a trickle of blood dripping from her nose. However, she was barely able to work her way to her feet before the sound of something roaring in her direction caused her to turn her head.

"Oh sh—"

And then Eilidh was swept up in the tidal wave, the pressure causing her to unconsciously gasp and gag. Her chest burned, her head swirled, and dirt and debris rubbed roughly against her exposed skin. The pressure swept her off her feet, tumbling and rolling as the burning in her bones grew more and more intense.

Although it was probably only a couple of seconds before she was swept out of range of the bloody explosion of necromantic energy, the pain and suffocation made it feel more like minutes. Eilidh gasped desperately for several seconds, before a faint voice brought her back to her senses.

"Captain?"

With the presence of the other Wardens helping to give her strength, Eilidh ignored the aching of her body, pushing her way to her feet. A couple pairs of nervous eyes glanced back and forth between her and the devastation in front of them.

"Wardens!" Eilidh cried, a subtle weakness in her voice, but the fist she lifted into the air was solid and determined. "Drive this abomination out of our home!" A faint war cry answered her shout, followed by the resonant echo of one of the Wardens' horns.

As her soldiers rushed forward, Eilidh's eyes darted about, finally landing on the crumpled form of Cernunnos, hunkered under the trunk of a tree and the remnant bones of his serpent. Unable to follow at the speed of the other Wardens, Eilidh slowly hobbled over to his limp form. In the distance, she could hear the shout of the Wardens, the lich's pained cry.

Eilidh knelt down heavily, then gently placed her hands in front of the Wyrdborn's lips. The faint warmth of his breath caused a sigh of relief to slip from between her lips. She shook his shoulder slightly. "Wake up! This is not a safe place to sleep!"