I saved the world today; everybody's happy now, the bad thing's gone away [closed]

[putmeinstitches]

Characters: Sam Linnfer and Low Key Lyesmith
Content: GOD BATTLE. Or super-powered demihuman battle. Or something.
Setting: Outside of Garrettstown.
Time: Late afternoon, after the sky-snake's death.
Warnings: TBA

Comments

[son_of_time]

That snake was the final straw. There was way too much at stake now for him not to go straight for the source. Sam knew that he couldn't keep his distance and continue to stop these things as they occurred. It was funny how he spent most of his life trying to avoid getting into situations like this because he didn't want to get involved in other people's skirmishes, fight their wars for them and here he was doing it.

The moment the snake had been killed and the others returned to the ship Sam had approached the dragons and asked them a favour. He'd even explained everything that was going on between him and Low Key and the myths and legends that surrounded them. All stories did have a grain of truth to them and they believed him and readily agreed to help. They were a lot easier to trust this sort of information to than ordinary humans. It was after all, one mythological creature to another.

So shortly after arriving back on the Convoy he was again on Vernwy's back, chasing after the person he knew was behind this all. He hadn't

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He sensed the scry before Sam was in sight. Though Low Key's first instinct was to pick up the pace, to run faster, to find a place to hide, he knew enough of magic to realize that it was useless. Not only was Sam gaining on him at a breakneck pace Low Key couldn't match, the fact that he was a scrying target meant hiding was useless.

No...as much as he hated it, Low Key had no choice. He'd have to stand and fight. (Or at least talk it out. Perhaps his silver tongue could be put to use one more time...)

He skidded to a halt, his boots finding traction on empty air, kicking up a shower of sparks. Low Key's magic was based on curses, potions and reading the future. However, he had some innate abilities, like fire and shapeshifting, that were better suited to combat.

The old god stood in midair, hands in his pockets, feet planted firmly on nothing at all, and waited.

[son_of_time]

Shortly after, Sam and Vernwy finally came in sight. First off he put away the small mirror, there was no telling when it might come in handy again and it would have been a waste of a perfectly good mirror if he tossed it away. Next, he drew his sword that was sheathed on his back.

"You know why I'm here!" He called out.

Once upon a time, Sam would have known that he would have won. But once upon a time didn't involve a chunk of the continent being lost, creating plenty of chaos. He should have ended things in Antrim. He shouldn't have let this wretched thing that he had no name for stop him. He didn't feel he could call it his morals, he could be as unscrupulous as the worst of them if he had to.

[putmeinstitches]

Low Key made no move to attack. He spread his hands out to his sides in a peaceful gesture, displaying how unarmed he was.

"What are you doing, Sam," he said. It wasn't a question. It was the same calm, rational and mildly condescending tone of voice you used with someone you were trying to talk out of a very foolish but life-changing decision. Though it wasn't a shout, Low Key's words rung out loud and clear. "Why are you here? Did you know someone in the southeast, and want revenge? Or are you trying to stop me from killing anyone else?"

He was casual. His tone of voice was far too casual for someone talking about how they'd obliterated a section of the world and wanted to finish the job.