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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by CaliforniaState
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CaliforniaState Biologist

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Event: Primitive Nine











Present @YummyYummy@Force and Fury
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by jasbraq
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jasbraq The Youngest Elder

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Ashon goes to pick up the Sword, to grab it by the handle and examine it in his hands. As soon as his hand made contact with it. Dory grabbed the young Yasoi's arm and tugged on it. "It's a holy relic! Treat it with respect." Her eyes looked rather annoyed by the nonchalant treatment of the weapon. "And besides, what would Eschiran-Zept think if his sword was held by a non-Quentic." Ashon blinked as he was suddenly grabbed by Dorothea, and then accused in that tone.

"What would Exiran think if the weapon was handled by one who was not Chosen." He placed himself between Dorothea and the weapon as he looked down toward her. "Especially one not devout in faith"

Dory's eye twitched. "Mind repeating that?" Her palm resting on the butt of her knife. "That statement's absolutely preposterous coming from a heretic! Even the Darhannics are more worthy." Her frame went off to the side as her hand reached for the guard of the sword."You'd actually go as far as calling yourself chosen by Eschiran-Zept himself?"

Ashon simply continued to place him between himself and the blade as he questioned the girl with an eyebrow raised. "The Quentic Faith is based on our Chosen Creed, the religion of the Yasoi. You have your Avincian Emperors to thank for that. Our Gods. So who is the 'heretic' truly?" He simply shrugged his shoulders.

"You are not Sister Laska, nor Brother Baudile. Don't speak faith to me. Unlike yourself, I am similarly ordained like they are in our ways, a Chosen of Vyshta." He pointed toward the hand of Dorothea's resting on the knife, "You plan to kill for property, this be your intent? Yanii’jexoff, truly a caricature!" He shook his head side-to-side.

Dory sight started to get clouded in anger, her palm shaking and her fingers tensing up before letting out a sigh. "I do not wish to kill, I do not wish to harm. I however do not wish for a Quentic artifact to fall in the hands of a non-Quentic... Especially a non-Quentic that could let it fall into the hands of the Perrench. A Drudgunzean relic should remain with a Drudgunzean."

He smirked, darkly. "Who are you attempting to convince?", he smiled over to Brother Baudile. "Why surely, a recent devout convert like yourself should agree to entrust it to our Stressian Scholar. He after all, will remain with those of Mandelein, and truly they are the owners of this artifact, are they not?" He looked at the others, "Drudgunzean... What about your friend, or even Kaspar there?"

His eyes glinted, "Pretty little song, Faith, Culture, but should we ask our esteemed Brother who is the reigns over the realm of Greed?"

Kaspar watched with inconspicuous interest, keeping his attention feigned on the ruby in his hand. In truth, he was not religious—though he had met the beings many considered gods and could not deny their power, he questioned the blind worship of any such entity. Though both Dorothea and Ashon had heavy points as to the “rightful” keeper of the blade, he noted with amusement that the yasoi had a far stronger argument in Kaspar than he could know. Curious, his eyes strayed to Baudile, to wonder if the man that knew Mandelein to be Kaspar’s birthplace would think the same thing. For now, though, he only observed. Unintrusive, unassuming… And hopefully near-unnoticed.
Brother Baudile was caught in this uncomfortable standoff. He raised his hands, knowing full well what both these people could do.

“The Sword belongs in the hands of the worthy.” he recited. “The question is whether this sword is worth the blood of friends and family. That has often been the curse of this sword. Like all power, it seduces, and this is a great, great power.” his arms folded before him and he took a step back. “I will only take this sword if you both back down. I will not turn my back to those eyeing such a prize. That is begging Ahn-Eshiran to deliver her final blessing upon me.”

"Then let the sword go with the people of Mandelein if you really want to make that point." She then turned her gaze towards her Kressian friend. "Taleja, please... This Yasoi is being unreasonable. I do not want the Perrench to have the artefact..." Then, her eyes looked at the brother. "I will make sure it will be kept safe at the church of Wismar"

Ashon smiled widely, "You ask Taleja to fight for Exiran ?" He laughed, he really laughed. "Is that the plan, the one who sees themselves worthy of the Avatar of War asked another to fight on their behalf?" His eyes sparkled as he stared at her. "You call yourself Worthy coward? His expression darkens, "Did you run as you lover and friend were taken? My friends were taken.

Taleja simply watched with some amusement as the tensions between the pair heightened. "Only one suited for jurisdiction would be the Red Rezaindians, devout followers of Eschiran-Zept. We should await the return of Sister Laska to render judgement."

Dory's eyes widened, shocked the knife-ear said the unthinkable. "I..." Her expression changed in rapid succession, from shock to sadness, and finally to anger. She pulled out her knife and pointed at him, a black look covered her eyes. "You dare?! You dare use their passing as a justification for your own greed, you're filth..."

"Look at how the Yanii fights for property, and not the ones she loves." He looked at her knife, "Put that away before you hurt yourself and hide behind Taleja's coat-tails."

"You know nothing! I fought!... Yet you have the gall to call me a coward?..." She drew in energy, knowing quite well she would lose the fight. "Where were you, huh? I didn't see you care when they chased after the Darhannic. You were not there.... When they died, do not call me a coward for trying to save them from the Mad Avatar. I at least tried..."

Ashon raised his eyebrow. "You are not even half the thaumaturge she was. You are only here because you were that insignificant, you were overlooked, or because you ran away." He indicated to everyone in the room, "We all have faced the entire town of Mandelein, hordes of Wildbloods. Each one of us has spent their blood and sweat. Each far more deserving of this blade." He turned to take the blade by the hilt, enough of the girl.

"Hold it right there, you evil scum." She kinetically tugged it down. "Did you not think the forest was full of them? Are you really that close-minded?" Her expression darkened further. "You say we.... at least you got help against those things.... I was by myself, having to deal with them."

Ashon blinked as he used his strength to overpower the girl's attempts and grabs it. Dory's eye twitched, having lost the tug of war. "You don't understand how much I need this! I need to kill the Mad Avatar! You just want it as a little trinket, I want it as a tool for revenge to wage war against them." She yelled. "You rob me from closure with your own greed!"

"Who is the Mad Avatar exactly? Did you even see his face, what does he look like?" He moved the blade away from the girl, and began to walk away. "What does a coward want with the blade of Exiran? You are a noble girl not fit for war."

"It sounded more like a woman... Though I couldn't make out her face." if her nose could grow from making stuff up it would. "I need to have it, a divine tool to beat someone of such power... After that I can give it back to the church."

"So they introduced themselves as 'The Mad Avatar', killed Ismet and Manfred, you fought, yet you didn't see their face. Nothing distinctive in the slightest?" Ashon smiled widely, "Anything missed out?"

She panicked in her own thoughts. There might be a way to confuse him, thinking about tales from Dami's eye. "Well, there were the legs..." How could she make it look the worst for them. "One leg... to be precise..."

Ashon looked at those gathered, as he twirled the sword in his hand, inspected then sat with it placed on his lap. "As a girl on a Holy Mission. Make an oath to your Gods." He raised his brow. "We want you to declare an Oath, in accordance to your tradition, as overseen by Brother Baudile. We want you to swear to your Dami for judgement that you speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. We want you to swear to Eschiran revenge in the price of blood on the ones who killed our friends, Ismet and Manfred, so they may face justice. We want you to swear to Oraff that the blade will be used to protect against those who wish evil on this world. We want you to swear to Shune that you shall seek his counsel so you may not be led astray by dark temptation. We want you to swear to Ipte to hold love in your heart for the meek and innocent."

He then smiled, "Swear these Oaths, then I entrust this blade to you."

Baudile stepped forward, serving as holy overseer to this divine commitment Dory was going to make. He knew this was a farce. His eyes couldn't get off that foul crown. This was all too perfect. Qasem was supposedly killed given who was left, Laska had vanished and Manfred was confirmed dead. Only he knew of the true horror that was unraveling. What to do? The Monk sighed. His arms opened, one hand directed at each participant. “Hands to your hearts, my brothers and sisters.” he looked to Dorothea. “Headwear removed.” he looked sternly toward Dory. His hand reached out to her, as if he sought to take it.

Dory nodded, taking off her tiara and holding it in the hand that would touch her heart, making sure to stick it to the palm of her hand with her chemical prowess and smiled towards the monk.

Baudile did his best to keep a straight face, he really did. But that smile. The sweet, innocent smile with a colorless venom said it all. She did something. Normally he wouldn't be such a stickler for the rules, given how he lived fast himself. But this woman - Laska was right all along. “Nothing can come between you and your promise to the Gods, my dear.” again, his hand was out and his eyes on her chest.

Taleja moved toward Dory and offered her hand. "If you are concerned, I can hold that for you." she crouched near her, and spoke low. "Almost there, Dory." She looked towards her friend and shook her head. "Maybe later. A warm smile covered her face.

"My bad, dear brother." Dory got rid of the sticky substance binding her and the crown together. She put it underneath her shirt against her belly. before buttoning up. "Are we good for the oath now?" She made sure it stuck to her once more.

Taleja tilted her head as she peered at Dory stuffing her tiara down up her blouse in a rather revealing gesture as if they were common thieves. She made a note of that. Baudile frowned. She wasn't even trying to hide it. But he could not intervene in a clear duel for the Blood God's sword. Not until this was resolved. “Very well. Then I, Baudile Dubosque of the Stresian Philosophers, bear witness to this promise of the Gods. Should you break this promise, Dorothea Hohnstein, may Dami show mercy to your condemned soul!”

Ashon placed the blade where it laid before. "May one worthy of the Gods take the blade."Dory nodded. "May Dami judge my actions." walked towards the sword and grabbed it. "Eschiran empower me." Dory looked to Ashon. "Thank you... I.. apologize for my vile words... I got too angry..." She could feel the power within the blade. Vedil, I won. I won.

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Force and Fury
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Force and Fury Actually kind of mellow

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Present: Ayla Arslan @Ti, Evander Fino Synesti @RezonanceV, Tku Pictor @dragonpiece, Fiske Flachstrauch @jasbraq, Zarina Al-Nader @YummyYummy, Desmond Catulus @Th3King0fChaos, and Yansee Keelee Kensen-loon @CaliforniaState


Marceline did not realize that she had fallen asleep. She’d ended up talking to Fiske the previous night, in their shared misery and then… the next thing that she knew, she found herself woken by a cat. It was a large, fluffy orange one, very much like Kurbis, and she thought that it was him for a moment. The teenager rolled over lazily in bed. She may have slept but it had clearly not been all that much. “Oh hello, little fellow,” she yawned, reaching out to ruffle his ample fur. Yet, her unexpected visitor was rather insistent, unleashing a stream of rather eloquent meows and yowls, pawing at her, and design away towards the door, shooting expectant glances back in her direction. He was trying to tell her something, and that got her attention.

“Miauw,” he prodded, and she rose to a sitting position, wriggling and stretching out her toes. “Prrauw! Brrt!” She could feel pins and needles in them - the unwelcome tingling of dying nerves - and took a moment to stretch them out. It was ever a battle and she would need to find another grey aberration soon, or even a white if she was desperate. “ME.OW.” She regarded the creature dimly for a moment before sighing. “Okay. Okay. I’m coming.”

“Mew.” He seemed satisfied with that, pacing around the door as she stood and stretched. She’d fallen abed in her day clothes, so there was no need of a change and, as she looked about the room, her eyes fell on Fiske, who had similarly fallen asleep in a corner on some cushions. Her cheeks flushed. To have fallen asleep in the same room as a boy - one who she was… she shook her head. It was scandalous, but nobody here would know or much care, she imagined. The cat - she had been thinking of him as Kurbis in her head, though he was not - was now pawing at Fiske, and he, too, snapped awake.

In the proceeding few minutes, both were led cautiously outside, through the slowly-stirring streets. Morning had taken hold of An Zenui and the surrounding environs, and it was already a hot and vicious thing. Sand from the previous day’s storm still lay about the place; the Stuzé-Upets and other assorted slaves had been hard at work, but they had not yet cleared it all. Not-Kurbis hurried out ahead of them, his little head glancing back, letting out the occasional “meow” of anxious encouragement as he assiduously avoided the areas where it clung to surfaces or had piled up in small drifts. For much of their walk, moments of stillness prevailed. The arms of the sun reached deeper into the shadows of the canyon in which much of the city lay, but it was, as always, the rich who enjoyed first light.

It broke over a clearing by the cliffs and there was already a small crowd of curious onlookers gathered. Fiske shielded his eyes with magic from the glare while Marci used more traditional methods. Both took in a gasp. From a scraggly tree hung a body, swaddled in ornate silks and flowing veils. It took them both a moment to recognize who it was.

“Ayla.” Marceline darted forward, her voice a terrified squeak, and she bade Fiske to follow. The cazenax and sirrahi who had gathered swirled back at her sudden approach, jabbering rapidly amongst themselves in their foreign tongue at the arrival of the two humans. Marci paid them little and less attention. She reached out with her senses and felt the energies in Ayla’s body. To her immense relief, the girl was alive, but her breathing was shallow and her heartbeat irregular. Fiske, of course, could’ve already told her as much, for such were his gifts as a sensemaster.

Together, they brought their friend gently to the ground, pushing back the nascent crowd, and trying to figure out just what had happened. It was Fiske who sensed it first. “Poison,” he said grimly. He’d been grim ever since last night. She had too, but there was no time for self-loathing at the moment. “It’s a paralytic.” She was not good enough with chemical magic to have sensed it, but he clearly did. “Look for those places,” he directed, “Where the muscles seem colder.” Arcane was a language she spoke at least a little, and she found them after a short interval. The damage was near-terminal, but binding was a language that Marci spoke considerably better, and she set to work. If she could not neutralize the foreign chemicals, she could remove them entirely, and heal the harm they’d done. The entire time, Not-Kurbis paced around protectively, and she began to grow suspicious that there was something special about that cat.

Ayla was jarred from her near-death reverie quite suddenly, and opened her eyes to the sight of Marci and the cat - Benny - leaning over her. Fiske hovered nearby, holding off a growing crowd, and they did not have long to linger. Within a minute, she was on her feet and they were on their way. Perhaps they might’ve headed back to their underground bolt-hole beneath the cliffs, but the city had become an oppressive-feeling place, full of hidden enemies, where they’d be instantly recognized and surrounded by crowds. If they’d found a handful of sympathetic faces, like Pan’s, they were, at best, a curiosity here. To some of those in power, however, they were a threat, and it was Ayla’s recommendation that they reconvene at the 4S sweetwater farmstead.




Zarina’s journey there had been of a different sort. Her vigor and ambition to catch this Wesca - this puppetmaster behind the attack on the stead and perhaps other happenings - had collapsed against an onrushing wall of profound exhaustion. Yansee had not betrayed her, either. Against all odds, the renegade eeaiko had seen her safely to the farmhouse and, after a slightly tense encounter with Zox, to bed. Persevering through mumbled half-coherent resistance, she laid the Virangishwoman to sleep.




The city still held its poisons, however, and they festered under the fuming midday sun. Naxos and Tku had decided to leave An Zenui for the time being, heading back to the stead, and they had retrieved Desmond - none too popular a figure even if innocent - from his cell only to find him sleeping.

It helped with Tku’s cover story, at least, for Naxos had advised him to avoid Desmond’s wrath with a little white lie about how Benedetto had learned the truth. Why, even now, forces were roving about the city, searching for him, and the threat of mob justice loomed. They also, after a fashion, decided to make their return to the farmstead, away from prying eyes, crowds, and the ever-hovering danger of what was starting to be revealed as a far-reaching conspiracy.




It was into this cauldron that Tennaxi and Classa inadvertently walked, or, at least the latter did. Zarina had sped off in another direction unexpectedly during the early hours, and the ambiguously undead eeaiko who they were not certain they could trust had disappeared in a crowd. Now, they found themselves alone in the city. The clamour for Nyax-Acan was all about them, but there was no going unnoticed for very long. If centaurs were not a common sight, they warranted little more than a second glance, and Classa was generally a sponge for attention, prancing about, talking to people, and putting on a show. Tennaxi had never been noteworthy or different in any way that she could remember, and the stares and points quickly began to force a retreat. “Is it just me,” she whispered to the junior accomplice upon whose back she rode, “or are they… kinda hostile?” A handful, at different junctures, had already darted off in some other direction, seeming in a hurry to get there.

“They seem a lil’ weird,” the girl agreed warily.

“This isn’t how things usually are for… sorry, what was her name again?”

“Samaxi,” came a pointed reply. “And umm, no. They’re not.”

Then came a shout. “That’s him!” and another: Her! It’s a her!”

“Fuckin’ excuse you!” Tennaxi retorted.

“It’s Potes-Palix!”

“IPotes-Palix.”

“It is!”

“He’s gotta be crazy.”

“Or ‘she’!”

“Didya think what disguise could fool us!?” shouted one boldly.

“The fuckin’ nerve!” cried another.

Tennaxi’s heart was hammering and, beneath her, she could feel Classa tensing up. The little centaur was about ready to bolt. “Classa,” she whispered, “What the hell did Samaxi get into?” but the girl only shook her head fearfully, as the first shout of “assassin!” leapt forth from the crowd. “I… I dunno!” came the high-pitched reply. “She just sold sweetwater.” She shook her head. “And she’s still here somewhere, or else…”

“They fu-” She paused and tempered her language in front of the child. “They got her or she’s in trouble.”

“Or maybe she’s dead!” wailed Classa, and she broke into a quick trot, the milling mass of people surrounding them jogging or running to keep pace.

Tennaxi tried to give her a reassuring squeeze. Riding was a harrowing thing without legs, she was learning. “I think she’s just lying low,” she tried, not sure if she believed it herself. One of their unwanted escorts tried to reach out for Classa’s tail and Samaxi summoned what she could of magic to bash him away, lest the centaur kick. That was it, then. It was on. A second one came, and then a third. Kinetic shoves and slams tried to hurl them off course and Tennaxi found that her capacity - always high by the standards of her people - was a good deal less now that there was a good deal less of her. “Run, Classa! Run! The horse-girl took off and she was, indeed, fast. Wind rushed through Tennaxi’s and Classa’s hair alike, and the twin streamers rippled behind them. The crowds began to part. The gate hove into view. In the distance, Classa even thought she might’ve seen Tku and… some other human guy.

That was when there was pain: pain and sudden nothingness. When she came to once more, she was in a large room with stern-looking men and Tennaxi was nowhere to be seen.




If she was lost to Classa for now, virtually all of the others were eager to be out of sight as well. Amid swirling crowds and increasing scrutiny, they made a desperate flight towards Jascuan and the sirrahi’s bolt hole from two directions. Time after time, by trickery, stealth, intimidation, and cajolery, they escaped those who paid them extra attention. They drew close, their goal within sight, their pursuers evaded, and Tku, Desmond, Naxos, Ayla, Fiske, and Marceline dared hope that they might’ve pulled it off. They could slip in unnoticed and leave their hideaway safely anonymous.

Then, towering before them, out of nowhere, came a Seeker: a demon of the fourth tier. It filled most of the alley that it emerged from and there was no way that it could fail to draw the attention of anyone watching. From two angles, they laid waste to it, but it took all six of them and every ounce of power that they had. It drew exactly the unwanted attention they had feared, forcing them to assault and knock out two more interlopers There should never have been such a monster moving about in broad daylight in the middle of the city and, if it had been summoned in so precisely in their path, its summoner had been someone who possessed both great power and knowledge of who they were, where they were, and what they were doing.

They scrambled into their hole in the ground, some unexpected mirth and desperate camaraderie along the way, to find that Jascuan and Samaxi had preceded them. Five long hours of travel down a tunnel and an emergence in the desert as the shadows began to grow long saw them battle profound exhaustion, delirium, and claustrophobia. In the home stretch, they overtook Jascuan and Samaxi, making their way forward only with the help of magic. By the time that the expanded group straggled in through the archway of the farmhouse, Pauppaup was there with Yansee to greet them and Zarina was still in a land of blissful dreams. There were strangers in the house, prisoners in the shed, Classa and Tennaxi missing, and…

None of it mattered. Tku passed out on the spot. Desmond staggered and seated himself ungracefully on a sofa. Marceline, Fiske, and Ayla followed, finding whatever space looked comfortable. Mostlike, they did not even register the absence of their two allies, else they might’ve been stirred to action against their better judgement. The home was left to Zox, Yansee, and Pauppaup, exceptional trust placed in the latter two only by dint of circumstance.

Afternoon gave way to night and night to morning. Zarina was the first to rise, and Samaxi a few minutes later. The latter brewed an invigorating sweetwater drink and, soon, they were all up and present, but for their questionable eeaiko allies and - now they noticed for certain - Classa and Tennaxi. Surely, something had gone wrong. Surely, nobody would stoop so low as to harm an innocent child. There was so much to say - so much to be exchanged - but how much time did the group have? They needed a plan and they needed it quickly.




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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by CaliforniaState
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Event: Primitive X




Dropping off at the farmstead was a stop she hadn’t foreseen but had no ability to pass up. Both rider and dragon had been sorely exhausted at this point and by no means had it in them to storm Wesca’s abode. It wasn’t long before Zarina, albeit apprehensive, was able to fall asleep in the company of the psychotic girl. The attendance of a massive golem and her always near dragon also served as a deterrent and steadfast security. Yansee waited around a bit, staring at the moonlight wondering if she’d be able to sleep in the bales of hay. Pauppaup would eventually find his way back to his finger, it beginning to shuffle in her pocket. Unaware of its placement she could feel a constant motion in her pocket before thumbing through it and finding a rather discolored finger.

His silhouette appeared in the confines of the door frame, hanging high in the backdrop. Yansee, elated to say the least, rushed over with finger riding her shoulder to hug the walking corpse. Like an inch worm the finger work its way down Pauppaups arm and back onto his hand. A few crunches and it was back in place. ”Pauppaup!” realizing waking up a dragon was a bad omen, her teeth gritted and her shoulders loosened. ”Pauppaup” she said in a hushed tone. ”We best be going now love, it won’t be long before Wesca sicks a third party on us”. Yansee nodded and the two took off in the twilight hours of night leaving the dragon and warrior behind, they would meet again.

Yansee arrived back in An Zenui waiting at the gates where the guards had inhibited her approach to Wesca’s estate once more.

The sun was just below the horizon, still a glow waiting to break over it, but there were already people moving about on the vast and incongruously lush estate of Talo-Tecazan-Mostix-Cazui and Zast-Wesca-fa-Bantarsca. The guards were out and they were unusually insistent on barring Yansee, who was - after all - known to them, or should've been. She had an ace int he hole in the form of Pauppaup, however. While he had taken a different and stealthier route, his finger was in her pocket, tapping along in the secret code they had developed. Yansee may have been in the process of being informed that she would have to wait for another hour and half, but he was, this very moment, telling her that there was something down the side lane, in an area blocked from sight by the mansion's lush gardens, that she had to see. The question was: could she do so without arousing further suspicion, and... was it worth it?

“Coom off et then” she patronized the guards vehemently against her entering, they paid her no heed or replied in any kind of body inflection. They were worse than zombies and that was saying a lot for the queen of the rotten flesh herself. “Ryt then, fook yuuuu” she said with emphasis as well as putting both her middle fingers, webbing and all, up at both guards. Just as she was about to powerhouse her way through, she felt the finger of Pauppaup sending her a message. As to not rouse suspicion she decided to relent and walk past the estate. Luckily, they were blind to her, allowing her to slip through the side lane of both estates. Passing the lush gardens which drank up all the valuable water the people could use, Yansee spotted a queer image. There was an unmarked carriage foreign to her or Talo and Wesca’s possession. She cocked her head seeing a person residing inside. She stealthily approached, pulling Pauppaups ear, ”Oo yu think tha es?” Yansee’s eyes plastered to the cart.

A very fancy but totally unmarked carriage that you know doesn't belong to Talo or Wesca. They appear to have a visitor. The figure inside the carriage looks like a sirrahi. Yansee stretched her senses out further, sensing more cazenax in the house. Most are clearly servants, but one seems to be flanked to either side by a pair of large sirrahi.

The curiosity got the better of her even if it killed the cat and she brought it back, it was still a cat. Not a Schrödinger in sight. A heavy hand stretched out from the shadow, bigger in presence than size as it seized her shoulder, ”Now hold on, are you sure that’s what you want to do?” Pauppaup asked with slight apprehension. ”Ya, leets go” the Eeaiko made her way to the carriage still using the shadows of the side street to obscure her. She creeped and crawled to the carriage door without alerting the Sirrahi to her presence, not that they were invested in anything other than the cazenax help.

Alarmed at the unwelcomed guest the Sirrahi shifted to the defensive. Yansee jumped at the Sirrahi with uncontrollable rage, her first caustic chemical attack nearly grazes the tenant. Of little mind and reason just as Yansee, they chose to attack rather than call for reinforcements, a mistake she wouldn’t take lightly. A massive rebuke aimed to send her back to the water, but Pauppaup jumped in the carriage and saved Yansee from being fried fish. Rolling back to her feet she readied a dark blast that zapped the life out of the Sirrahi passenger. The sirrahi coachman, who was simply doing his job sitting there with the carriage, is murdered in cold blood. Craabs, eye don et eggen. Deedn meen to keel em” Pauppaup shook his head like a disappointed dad and began pilfering through the carriage, while his daughter resuscitated the corpse into a mindless entity.

Pauppaup found a number of things in the carriage: A shawl with a floral pattern of nezan blooms in gold and purple - royal colours. A small, locked chest. A pendant in the shape of a stylized eye that exudes powerful dark energies. And a second unlocked chest full of gardening supplies. Yansee came over with her new blithering zombie to find the exploits of their ambush. ”Well be taken em all” already forcing the new slave to lug the materials around. The chest is what she eyed the most, carefully enough she was able to pick the lock revealing several strange oddities. Three small, strange coins that seem to exude dark energy. A few damaged scraps of paper with strange writing on them. A vial of blood. A control rod for a demon. A small pouch of gold coins. She wasn’t sure what any of them led to, but the dark energies called out to her. ”Powerful trinkets, especially in this carriage. Better keep them for now and find out the use for them later. Shall we be leaving Yans-“ he could not finish his sentence, seeing as Yansee had already begun skulking towards the other two cazernax. With that, Pauppaup let out a sigh and followed after her.

Yansee elected to take to the roof to get a much stealthier approach, at least in her mind. There was three chimneys in front of her, one tiny one she could herself barely squeeze through, one directly adjacent to that that could fit comfortably and one in the farthest reaches that had enough room for two. She dismembered her new zombie and threw a hand down the first chimney, which had caused quite the stir downstairs. To which she was deaf to seeing as she had already plummeted down the chimney adjacent to the first. Pauppaup stayed above, seeing the lack of decorum. Yansee had chosen the unfortunate placement of the chimney directly in front of those she was trying to avoid. Caught red-handed, Yansee lands clumsily and is rather badly scalded by the fire. While it's not horrific or anything, some medical attention would be a good idea. Wesca's eyes widen. "Yansee Kensen!?" she exclaims, her bodyguard immediately taking up a position between her and the interloper. "Explain yourself immediately!"

Yansee was blowing on a burn from plopping down the chimney, the sensation of pain for a semiaquatic being was doubled. "Gaards woodent let me en"

"You stupid girl!" Wesca roared. "Did you not think there might have been a reason for that!?"

The other older woman with her shimmered and shifted and then she was striding forward. "Let us not jump to any conclusions here," she followed up dryly, "perhaps it is part of her culture."

Yansee had been caught red handed, both literally from the burns to figuratively. It was by the elderly ladies’ grace that Wesca had not sent her cazenax posse to dispose of her. Not that she would go down without a fight. Luckily, the older woman had provided her sanctity with the perception that perhaps this was how her people entered houses. Yansee sheepishly laughed, “Yu see, aur howses aur under watur, so wee gots too swem into em from the top” knowing the refined culture of the Eeaiko and what they truly did in the water was unknown to most, specifically those who were locked up in a desert capital. Her hands began to sweat a little bit, feeling the warmth budding on the outer ears from anxious anticipation if they would buy her bold-faced lie. The sweat only served to anger the pain from the fresh burn causing her to grit her teeth a bit.

The elderly lady ended up acquiescing her lie, whether she knew so or not. This caused Wesca to settle in with her attitude a bit more. Not out of virtue of Yansee’s made-up cultural norms, but out of respect and cajoling of the older woman. Yansee was bid an audience in the room with the two, having disarmed her guard a bit more under the careful watch of the elderly woman who revealed herself to be the dowager. A name and rank that was way out of the realm of understanding in the terms of her correlation to An Zenui and Wesca. Yansee understood and spoke better with the dead than the living. She was on her own mission which left her tunnel visioned most of the time. The thrill of chaos was more enticing than the politics that ran the world and the shadows behind them. Before matters could delve any deeper, Wesca immediately asked about the mission she had assigned Yansee just before.

Rifling through her persons’ she found the amulet that signified the family Cuitmits had come from and his untimely death or, so she was meant to believe. The amulet was sufficient evidence to corroborate her tale. What luck she was lacking in subterfuge entering the mansion, she was gaining back in conversation. The two prattled on, leaving Yansee to follow every other word and sit silently as if she were a child waiting for her mother to leave a friend or aunt’s house. The subject matter finally turned back to Yansee with another mission in tail. Yansee felt sick, due to acknowledging the fact she had already bonded herself to Zarina. If she didn’t want to become charred fish, courtesy of her dragon, then she had to play double agent for Wesca and the now dowager. Without much option, Yansee entertained Wesca’s bidding once more and quickly exited the mansion to make off with her spoils of war.

There was bound to be something of use or value in her plunder.



Present: @Force and Fury
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by dragonpiece
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Summary of Morning Conversations


After a tiring few day, the young group of students were able to meet back at 4S Farm for much needed rest. They had all had their own journeys, all had something to share with the other students. An Enthish breakfast was made by the forever caretaker Tku. Along with a pot of coffee for those addicted to the bitter gold. Eating and drinking what they had lost from the multiple travels across the desert.

Tku kicked off the conversation as they started to share their stories. Desmond shared the story of the near assassination of the king and Samaxi being framed. Tku shared the raid on the farm as well as the news of Benedetto's survival and more importantly his new name. Nyax-Acan, long time benefactor of An Zenui and one of the most respected people in all of it. Zarina shared the findings of her interrogations and the treachery of a woman named Wesca. Ayla and Marceline shared their opinions and correspondence from 2 people, incriminating a pawn of Wesca in the process. Ayla regailed that Wesca attempted to kill her and might have actually.

It was clear that Wesca was the target. They had captured 2 of the student's allies as well as the farmstead's master's daughter. They needed to act quickly if they wanted a chance. Zarina, Jascuan, and Marceline went to retrieve Classa and Tennaxi. Desmond, Fiske, and Samaxi went to prepare a witness against Wescan and cause a stir in the public. Ayla, Tku, and Naxos left to obtain an audience with Benedetto in hopes of getting Wesca's pawn, Sozo, arrested to turn up the heat.
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Event: A Healer, A Bard, and two Benny's. | Location: Palace of the Chosen, An Zenui


“Nyax-Acan will be there,” Naxos announced, as they neared the city. He was pointing to a particularly large and ornate building that rested within an indent of the canyon, surrounded on three sides by its walls and fronted by a small plaza that bordered the river. “I dunno if it'll be so easy to get an audience, though,” he cautioned. “unless you've got some sorta plan, you're not telling me...”

Tku observed the building for a minute, trying to get an idea of what the building was for. It is hidden away, put into a crevice of the canyon. Yet at the same time it is given ornate stature and placed among the river. The plaza was small and basic, a necessity for any official building. Tku scratched his chin, unable to fully make out what the building was.

He shrugged, "May I ask the purpose of the building? It might help us with our approach," he asked Naxos, obviously still thinking of a plan.

Naxos regarded him. “It's the Palace of the Chosen,” he replied simply. “It's... where he lives when he appears.”

Ayla pondered for a moment. "We can always come knocking," she grinned mischievously. "Arrive with a fanfare. The people would love a demonstration, and it would certainly grab their attention. Perhaps we should address him by his title as we descend from the heavens."

“So, a little panache?” pondered Naxos, “A little pizazz?” he nodded slowly, considering as they landed briefly on some cliffs nearby to work out an entry strategy. “Where would that come from?”

Tku nudged Ayla, "I like your style lioness," Tku grinned. "I can handle the decorations, you can use your sonic, I can whip up some petals and other things to catch the eyes of onlookers." He stretched for the performance, "Think you can handle the music," he playfully challenged Ayla.

Benedetto, meanwhile, had only recently rolled out of bed. He yawned, stretched, and moved about in his silk pyjamas, rolling his neck a couple of times. He slept, of course, in the highest tower and it was from here that he pulled back the curtains to look out over his city through floor-to-ceiling windows. He gazed out across the parched yellow-red-brown landscape, the markets with their colourful canvas roofs, bright and gay, that had just begun to stir, the grand halls of the trade guilds and the spires and minarets of of the manors that perched atop the bantarsca.

Then, he heard something faint in the distance, and he turned his head. Sipping his coffee, he paused and cocked it to one side. Coming out of the rising sun, he beheld the most incredible sight.

Ayla nodded, saying, “Benny always said to 'Go big or go home,' so it's time to make him eat those words, Arslan-Tku style.” She began to pull out her flute as she armed herself with her greatest weapon.

Nyan-Acan wasn't following when his name was called, but he soon caught up. 'Go big or go home,' he seemed to agree with a resounding meow.

They were in agreement, and so the show must begin!

Tku rid himself of the unsightly harnesses and simply stood on the 2 kite tuskers. Gold and purple streamers trailed behind as it seemed like vibrant red rose petals started to form where they were going to land and fill the surrounding air. His stance was strong and confident, perfume filled the air and it whisked around. The kite tuskers were cleaned and manicured for the show. They were truly radiant, sadly he didn't have the kinetic or arcane to turn it from great to amazing. It was all on her now, the Grand Star, Voice of Torragon, The Lioness of the Arslan Family, Ayla Arslan!

Not seen from the onlookers side is that Tku almost fell to his utter doom but Nyan-Acan jumped on his shoulder and balanced him out, Thank Oraff for this cat.

After everyone was securely in place, Ayla signalled to the Tuskers to soar toward the largest tower at the Palace of the Chosen. As they ascended, she prepared to perform a melody that would harness her sonic magic. The chorus of the song rang out, its tune vibrant and upbeat, creating a grand entrance in the sky.

Tku's colourful streamers fluttered behind them, and rose petals rained down from the sky, creating a magical and enchanting display both around them and below. The Tuskers joined in the spectacle, blowing their snouts like trumpets, adding a majestic and triumphant element to the performance. It was as if the carnival itself had arrived in An Zenui, bringing wonder and awe to all who witnessed their arrival.

Tku pointed toward the shape by the window, identifying it as Benny. The cat responded with a meow in the direction of their friend. As the Tuskers approached, they maintained their graceful glide, and all four of them smoothly dismounted from their rides, landing gracefully on the balcony. Before the awestruck man, they all bowed low in unison, a sign of respect and reverence.

"Are you entertained?" Ayla spoke, addressing the man. Her voice carried the weight of their request as she continued, "We humbly request an audience with the great Nyax-acan."



Benny had pushed open the glass double doors and watched the unfolding spectacle. It was, indeed, magnificent, but the icing on the cake was undoubtedly the final act. Ayla landed light on her feet, like a cat, landing with a flourish. Then, came Tku, somersaulting off of the back of a pair of tuskers, sailing proudly through the air, trailing sparkles as he went. Nyax-Acan's eyes followed him. They watched as he over-rotated. They watched as his expression of joy turned to one of worry, then of panic, and then one of grim acceptance. He smacked hard into the ground, skidding along his chest and stomach. Benedetto reared back and laughed. "Oh, too much!" he admitted, cracking up at Tku. In truth, he'd drawn a bit of the Obenjan's energy away, softening his fall. "And I see Tku's even done his customary landing for us!" He clapped excitedly. He took a sip of his coffee. "And yeah, sure. Come on in. We'll talk before I get all started for the day." He shook his head, impressed. "Can hardly say no to an entrance like that."

Nyan-Acan followed closely behind Benny as they entered the room. Ayla assisted Tku to his feet, brushing him off and offering a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, we didn't realize you didn't have kinetic magic," she said, her tone apologetic. Together, they followed the older Benny into the penthouse of the tower.

Ayla couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu as she looked around the room. Memories from the past came flooding back during that encounter in the Forked Tower, and she muttered to herself, "This certainly brings back flashbacks."

However, they had more pressing matters to discuss. Ayla pondered how to broach the topic with Benny. She couldn't just blurt out all their troubles like a laundry list. With a hint of sarcasm, she thought to herself, Hi, Benny. we tore up the desert looking for you while you were sitting back like a king, was almost murdered, and, oh, the society you rule is about to erupt with infighting and death any minute now.

Instead, she decided to start with a more measured approach. "Benny," she began, "we've been through quite an ordeal since we last met. We could use your guidance and assistance now more than ever."

It was like a bad, repetitive dream. Except this time he couldn't cushion his fall. Reshta has deemed he would fail his acrobatics once more. It's fine. I'm fine. Totally fine with no wounded pride, Tku thought as Ayla helped him up. If his makeup had been lighter, then the red cheeks of embarrassment would have shined through with Benedetto's comments.

"Thank you for the audience Benedetto," Tku did a light bow still as he was of higher stature now. "I believe we come with important as well," Tku added.

"I guess I owe you an explanation too," Benny replied, leading them to a table with sumptuous chairs around it. "Oh, your tuskers will be fine on the balcony." He snapped his fingers, there was a surge of magic, and bowls of water and simple feed materialized in the shaded areas to the side for the creature.

Tku walked in and besides the grandness of the room, he was interested in his rings. They had unique symbols on each of them. For someone of his stature, it at had meaning, "Thank you for the accommodation. An explanation would be helpful." He was going to leave it at that but his curiosity got the better of him, "And maybe some details on the rings and dark magic?" Tku asked, letting it get the best of him.

"We were worried about you," Ayla began, her tone warm and somewhat nostalgic. She glanced at Benny, making a subtle reference to how much time had passed since their last encounter, both in terms of his appearance and the subjective experience of time from her perspective. "It seemed like an age since we were last together like this. I'm glad you made it out of that sandstorm."

Benny snorted and took a seat, gesturing for them to do the same. Deeper in his apartment, a scantily-clad woman rushed from one room to another. He glanced her way, missing her, and cleared his throat. "It has been ages," he admitted, "from a certain perspective." He let out a bark of ironic laughter. "I knew a bit of temporal magic, but I'd never time travelled before." He shrugged. "I tried to jump to before I made the stupid decision to fight the storm." He drummed on the tabletop, rings glimmering golden in the sun that filtered through the windows. Outside, the tuskers were drinking eagerly and sometimes spraying water at each other. "Sent myself back into prehistory." He shook his head. "Saw the fall of Toleus. Saw the flight of the sirrahi, the start of civilization. Saw it all."

He drummed some more. "These rings, by the way, are from guilds. They represent my dominion or whatever. These people like their hierarchies. Anyways..." They felt a sonic bubble fall around them. "I had to fend for myself and I did. Managed to hitch a ride with some fleeing sirrahi." He arched an eyebrow. "Fuckers went back millions of years and I wasn't about to stick around." He scowled and took another sip of his drink. "Want any?"

Ayla pondered for a moment, her brow furrowing in contemplation. "Did you travel into the future as well?" She recalled her previous encounter with him, where he had appeared older. She shook her head, as if dismissing the thought. "That didn't happen yet."

She looked a little hesitant as Benny offered her a drink. "The last drink we accepted was poison, and we were almost murdered," she explained. "That's something we want to discuss with you in a bit." Nevertheless, she accepted the offered drink, while Nyan-Acan explored the penthouse suite.

"Are you happy, Benny?" Ayla inquired, her voice tinged with curiosity as she looked at him.

Tku nodded at first, satisfied with himself for having figured it out. Maybe a bit of vindication that yes, fighting a giant storm is stupid. That was until Benny dropped the fall of Toleus on them and that the sirrahi were there. It was world shattering. He gulped at the thought and tried to stick it to the back of his mind. He had no reason to not believe him. He had travelled in time. Somewhere in Tku there was also jealousy, to travel not only the world but history.

But Tku pushed them back, compact them. He inspected the rings, believing now they might have a chance with the dominions Tku felt Nyax-Acan had. "I'll take some, thank you," Tku trusted if Benedetto wanted them dead, he would've done it. He was going to get to business but decided to let Ayla's question take priority for the mean time.

He poured them each some coffee. Then, he leaned back and crossed his legs, tone conversational. "I'm sure I probably have more travels ahead of me," he admitted. "Pretty happy with the gig I've got, though." He sipped again, "though these people sure have a love of oppression, no matter how much I try to hammer it out of them." He shook his head. "Don't tell me you tried to do the same, huh?" He glanced, sidelong, at Ayla.

"Perhaps trying to fight oppression with oppression is not sending the intended message," Ayla mused as she accepted the coffee cup and took a sip. "Glad you're doing well, genuinely."

As Benny steered the conversation towards the purpose of their visit, Ayla's expression grew more serious though continued to try to keep the tone light. "Just some guild masters in need of Noblesse Oblige. Kidnapping Marci wasn't enough; they have a taste for blood, and regicide is the preferred gourmet choice for their palate. After they failed and framed some clueless sap, they thought a high noble would quench their thirst as a temporary substitute." She frowned, her words reflecting the gravity of their situation. "Tku said you are the judge here, and we thought it best to address this with you first."

Benny shot her a bit of a glare at her advice, but then she continued. "Once I figured out how to better time my jumps, I ended up in a place where I learned a great deal about the VOID and..." He shrugged. "I dunno. I just didn't see much reason to come back. I've been with these people ever since, jumping slowly forward in time and spending a few months here and there if you wanna look at things in some strictly linear way. It's made me some sort of authority, outside of their formal system but mostly unquestioned... until recently." He shrugged for the second time. Ayla was still speaking fancifully and his shrug faded into a thoughtful scowl. "Less riddles, Ayla. Tell it to me straight. What's going on here?" He glanced at Tku, wondering what input he might have to offer.

Tku felt he was here more as a support and he was alright with that. Now that things have gotten to the actual reason for their visit, Tku reached for the letters within his bag. "These are some correspondence between Sozo-Calupé-Cenzan and Talo-Tecazan-Mostix-Cazui," Tku slid them over for him to read while they talked, "They seemed to have plotted on attacking 4S farm with raiders. They attacked with many demons brought forth from out of nowhere. I believe you know the master, Jascuan. This later revealed other plots that Wesca is involved in."

Ayla nodded solemnly. "Wesca is the brains behind the operation. She made that clear when she poisoned me and pushed me off her balcony with magic. If it wasn't for Benny," she referred to the cat, "we wouldn't be here. She's the one responsible for hiring the mercenaries, too. It appears that the dowager is also involved. It's a tangled web of conspiracy, all in opposition to the King's reforms, meant to consolidate and maintain power under the guise of security."

Benny's hand shot out, clawlike, and snatched the papers from Tku's hand as he was still in the process of extracting them. He grunted a thanks and brought them up to his face, where his eyes flicked back and forth across the page. When he was done with the first, he rapidly flipped to the second, and then the third. He scowled. His eyes widened. He shook his head and let out a low whistle under his breath. "Holy shit." He peeled his eyes away for a moment, plunking the papers down on the the tabletop. "This is damning. Where'd you get this shit?"

Tku let out a discreet smile, "Does it matter? It's just some evidence you or a eye demon 'happened' to find. Easier that way."

"In An Zenui," Benny replied, straight-faced, "we have laws, and we follow them." His voice was flat and unamused and he suddenly seemed a rather different figure than the impishly malevolent one that Tku had previously known.

Tku sighed, he had hoped Benny would be more lenient for the evidence. He desperately wanted to keep Marci out of it but her reputation was faltering quickly in his mind. [colour=734960]"Marci retrieved them [i]after[/] Talo and Wesca held her captive. I cannot speak for her mind scape while escaping but we have them now."[/colour] Tku spoke with an upstanding tone. "I apologize Benedetto, I was too brash with the law there."

“They are laws for a reason; they exist to maintain order and justice. But laws are only valid if they are grounded in justice themselves. The commitment to justice sometimes carries with it an obligation to disobey unjust laws.” she added, sipping her coffee as she couldn't resist offering her perspective on the social commentary.

“The documents were obtained from Talo and Wesca's house. It was during Marci's imprisonment there that she overheard their plans and saw where they kept the documents. She managed to retrieve them during her escape, the aim of bringing their crimes to light.” Ayla ran her finger along the rim of the cup. “If they hadn't committed a crime by kidnapping Marci, their other misdeeds might have never been exposed. Poetic justice, in a way.”

Benny cracked up at the pair. He held it in for a moment before letting out a small laugh. "Well shit," he exclaimed, "I was messing with you, but that's good to know." He nodded thoughtfully. "This is a good lead. A very good one, but Wesca..." He furrowed his brow and shook his head. "And the dowager... We'll need direct evidence for them. *Irrefutable* evidence. They're powerful people, and popular: especially the latter."

Benny - the feline version - let out an emphatic meow, rubbing up against a table leg.

Ayla shook her head, "Wesca intentionally kept her name off the paperwork for that reason. We doubt we would be twice blessed by Reshta," she said, tapping her finger against the cup. "We'll need to set a trap for them to expose themselves, raise the stakes. We'll put pieces in place, create a situation where they are forced to act, and they will give us all the evidence we need."

Tku agreed with Ayla, "And we do have more piece," Tku assured. "Zarina spent time with the raiders and some of them can identify Wesca herself. Desmond is helping with the transfer over to a safe house," Tku spoke with a little enthusiasm, sure they would succeed. "The assassination is a little less steady but we do have people that were framed along with circumstantial evidence that their they weren't doing it mixed with Wesca being an expert poisoner, as seen with Ayla."

He took a breath, "I also think it would be hard to get them with just the letters. But this city lives for the public's opinion. If Sozo is arrested, that forces her to make a move. If the witnesses come that forces her to make a move. One is locked in the Omenaxan and has most likely spilled her info, her name is Tenaxi by the way. Zarina is out trying to get her and a girl named Classa out." He did a lot of speaking and he felt the anxiousness build as he was putting his case forward.

"I know I'm optimistic by nature but Benedetto, I think there is room for you to strike them down. In front of a crowd to gain the public's trust. In front of the King to convince him of his mother's betrayal." Tku hoped they provided enough ability for him to act.

Ayla poured some milk into a saucer as she gently spoke "pspsps" to lure Benny to the table. The Nyan-Acan came from where it was scouting around, wearing a lady's garment on its head. Ayla discretely removed the cup with some slight disapproval as he sat on the table, lapping up the leche.

Benedetto blinked. There was little left of his younger self's bravado. He appeared to consider, going still as he did so. "You know that mess you got tangled up in before?" he asked Tku, though he did not wait for a reply. Instead, he rose and began pacing. "I made my judgement and I'm confident that it's a correct one, but Fiske killed people." He shook his head. "Killed and maimed officers who were doing their job, on a hunch. On his snap reading of the situation. He didn't trust the courts to make the right decision."

Ayla narrowed her eyes, looking up from petting the cat after quietly removing the... garment from his head. "But can they be trusted?" she prodded gently. Her experiences here had shown her something of the corruption that flowed through the lifeblood of this society.

Benny scowled pensively. "When I'm here, you can, or when it goes directly to the king." He shook his head, frustrated. "We're so few, actually trying to change shit." His fists were balled. "And there's just so much inertia built up against us." He let out an exasperated breath and turned back to Tku. "I got off topic." He waved dismissively. "Truth is, a lot of people weren't happy with how I dismissed that case. It's become a rallying point for some." He tilted his head and, for a moment, something of that old cruel glint returned to his eyes and he was the Benny he had been. "They're feeling strong now - important - like they've outgrown me or something," he sneered. "I've got half a mind to crush a few and remind them." He shook his head and looked away, crossing his arms. "It's easier to be feared than loved, you know."

There was a long, tired breath as he gazed out the window. "But not today," he relented, turning back to face them, somewhat settled again. "We do this the right way, and I think your plan's a good one." He nodded, gradually convincing himself. He glanced down at the cat named after him and smiled, briefly. "Go after the small fry first. Bag Sozo and take him somewhere legal and secure, but make sure he doesn't go to the Omenaxan; *they* own that." He was pacing again. "Promise him a deal and protection, and none of them are brave enough to directly fuck with Nyax-Acan." He grinned viciously, and Little Benny scampered off behind a chair. "They'll reveal themselves by coming after him, or we do it at the Golden Skies Day ceremony tomorrow, in front of everyone: force their hand. Force them to answer." His expression morphed back into a scowl. "And, if the people are smart, they listen," he concluded. "If they're not, then it's time to remind them what Nyax-Acan means."

Nyan-Acan watched the discussion with a keen eye. He had been scouring the penthouse, uncovering the secrets most preferred to keep hidden, and even charming the attention of the Cazenax mistresses with his feline allure.

Suddenly, his ears perked up as he heard his name being called. His sapphire eyes focused intently on the blonde man who spoke of him with such admiration, extolling his bravery and valour. Yes, this was his moment! Benedetto looked toward him, and Nyan-Acan knew precisely what he had to do. With haste, he dashed behind a nearby chair and then toward the desk, where he snatched up a dagger that was typically used as a letter opener. The blade gleamed dangerously as he held it deftly in his mouth, returning triumphantly to the table.

"Ladies, behold the great Nyan-Acan, ready for the challenge that lies ahead!" He dropped the dagger onto the table with a flourish, his gaze sweeping dramatically across each of them. "Join me in this noble endeavour, for together, we shall teach them the true meaning of my name—Purr-Explosion, the feline without equal!"

The cat made quite a show. He was quite cute, and Bendetto smiled and reached out give him a scratch behind the ears. "Sure gave him a fitting name," he admitted, before stepping back. Then, he took in the other two, his gaze growing stern. He was not unaware that they had completely ignored his earlier mention of the subject. "And I'm ready to try this crazy shit, too." He clasped his hands at the small of his back, however, and scowled. "I'll need one thing first, though, if I'm gonna have any credibility at all." He cleared his throat. "Fiske," he stated implacably.

Ayla couldn't help but giggle as Nyan-Acan displayed the same fiery enthusiasm as his namesake. She playfully placed the hilt of her sonic blade next to the dagger on the table. "And you have my sonic blade," she chimed in, giving a playful wink to the spirited feline before turning her gaze to Benedetto.

"We're not entirely sure where he is at the moment," she admitted. "But our plan is to regroup at the farm once we're done here. Would you like to join us there and discuss matters with him in person? or bring him along."

Benny's look made clear that he did not believe her for a second on the matter of Fiske, but also that he wouldn't press the issue... for now. "I *will* need to bring him in," he made clear to Ayla and Tku <@235903628630687744>. "Or things will be much harder for us." He pursed his lips. "But we've got a day and a half to do it, so it's something for later." He put his fist into the middle, where the cat's dagger and Ayla's sonic blade were. "Let's fuck up some badguys."

Tku felt relieved that Benny seemed to be okay with their plan but as it turn to the other criminal.

On the topic of Fiske, Tku was bitter obviously bitter. And he didn't care to hold his tongue. He had tried to give him the benefit of a doubt. He tried to bring it to the group's attention and instead it was met with not even a bit of disgust or unnerve. He tried to let Fiske explain himself instead he his away that morning while everyone else had spoke. Maybe he knew no one there would care? Tku pondered before shewing it away as the intrusive thought it was.

"I know where he will be," Tku contradicted Ayla in a low tone. "And I agree his crimes need to judged fairly on. I believe I am kind. I believe I am patient. But when given a chance to at least explain himself," Tku bit his lip in frustration, "He hid away." Tku was more serious than he had been before. There was no hint of his usual flair. Just a voice of someone who made up their mind.

"Ayla you preach of law and its higher purpose and I believe you whole heartedly believe that. I do as well but," Tku shook his head, "There isn't complication here. Not enough to overlook the corpse I came across. The officer's body was burned, it was beaten. So were the others." Grimace took hold, "He left angry and frustrated like a child and his tantrum got someone killed and multiple injured," his shoulders slumped and his tone shifted to a more tired one. "And I protected him. I believed somewhere in my heart that this was all a mistake. That he was attacked unjustly like we were at the farm." He gazed up at Benedetto, "I make a promise I will not protect him from his crimes again," Tku nodded.

"But-" Tku crossed his arms, "he is helping us for now. Like you said, we are so few and the job we have given him is one that he should be out of sight for the time being." Tku sighed, "The people at the Omennaxen, Zarina, will need us more pointedly than we need to get Fiske." He seemed to refocus himself.

Benny tilted his head to the side. "Well then," he replied, "A force for law and order after all." He strolled over to the double doors and pushed them open. The tuskers trumpeted in surprise and reeled back, gathering in a tight little herd as Naxos tried to calm them, regarding him warily. "Guess you know where you're headed next," he declared, striding up to the balustrade and pointing at a great black tower in the near distance. "And I wouldn't be so hasty just to bust in," he advised. "There's quite a uh... *bureaucracy*, I've heard, and the guards are *strong*."

"If I may ask, can I get placed into prison? I believe if things have gone bad I can be of more help if I'm there quicker. Just in case they are harmed." Tku asked.

Benny grinned. "You really wanna go to jail that badly, huh?" He shook his head. "I can do you one better, even," he crowed. "Remember: I can teleport people." He glanced over at Ayla. "I take it my lady - and her noble companion - will be travelling by air?" He smiled and inclined his head in her direction.

Ah yes! Temporal magic could do that, he could just grab them safely and be done with it! Tku smiled, "Yes yes, that would be very helpful."

Ayla responded to Benedetto with a warm smile. "You certainly know us well. We do have a knack for making dramatic entrances," she remarked playfully. She then moved toward the Tuskers, her feline companion leaping onto one of their backs in readiness. She looked back at Benedetto and quipped, "Plus, they might need someone to organize bail and a ride back home." With that, she mounted the Alpha Tusker and extended an invitation. "Care to join us?"

Meanwhile, where Ayla was, Benedetto smiled shyly, or perhaps regretfully, or perhaps it was mocking. "While I'd love to," he assured her, "I'm a bit constrained by politics, I fear. People I don't particularly like will soon be looking for me."

Ayla responded with a bright smile. "One supposes having two Bennys would be quite greedy when one is enough," she said with a tease. She gently squeezed her legs to encourage the Tusker to take off, and with a chorus of trumpets, the flock soared through the air toward their destination.

There was a sudden intake of energy as Benedetto reached towards Tku's shoulder. The Revidian smiled and squeezed, just tightly enough for it to be uncomfortable. Then, Tku felt himself hurled through space and time. It was but a second, but an eternal, hallucinogenic one. He landed somewhat roughly on an unsettling soft floor and looked about. It was vast and dark and... damp. There was an awful smell, in truth, and a strange reddish tint to the endless blackness that surrounded him. This was not what he had expected. Maybe he had hoped for more. Maybe putting his trust in Benedetto Corvi - regardless of what he called himself these days - had been a very bad idea. Tku did not know for certain, but he could guess where he now found himself: He was in the Omenaxan.



A good ways away and some time later, a man named Sozo-Calupé-Cenzan had just seated himself at his favourite table in the rear booth of a local tavern. It was a well-known spot, right in the heart of the city's hustle and bustle, but also private and tucked away. From here, he could conduct the business of a guild master. From here he could conduct the duties of a concerned citizen. An unholy alliance of the lesser classes and the demons were conspiring to corrupt and ruin An Zenui for their own selfish benefit, and now they had a fool king to take their part.

Certainly, he knew, as his steak arrived - a *true* steak, culled from a living animal - that they felt themselves entitled to a greater share of the running or society. They had been getting the idea, of late, that they could do what he and the other members of the Bantarsca did just as well. They couldn't, of course. It took cognitive, magical, and moral abilities, as well as an objective and dispassionate temperament and discipline bred over generations to make the hard choices necessary to steer the great sandship of society. He shook his head at the notion of peasants being given direct access to the Vozas - what an utter *calamity* that would be - and cut into the meat.

Sozo took a bite, taking a moment to savour the taste as he chewed, reveling in the juices and rich flavours. It was a much-needed meal, for this had been an exhausting morning - that unsavoury business down in the stuzéts' snake hole. He had not used his gifts in magic to such an extent in years, but the target had been strong: strong and raging and proof positive that his people were an existential threat to the cazenax if even a supposedly 'mild-mannered' accountant could become *that*. Why, if Sozo had his way, the stuzéts would be culled, sad as it was. They were something that the cazenax never should have called forth, let into their home sand their hearts, and become reliant upon. Fortunately, at least, others within society were starting to awaken to the danger.

He continued to eat: hungrily, *greedily*, and spared glanced out of his booth, for soon he knew one of his good friends was due to arrive. Indeed, two minutes later, there was a knock upon the door and a brief conversation outside. He could not make it out. He was eating like a tusker and it would not do for his associate to see him this way. He endeavoured to quick finish his meal before their meeting. Thus, Sozo did not pay much attention to what was spoken and who was there, for he was certain that he knew, just as he was certain of altogether too many things that were a good deal more nuanced than he had convinced himself of.

The officers of the law surrounded his booth and it was a lieutenant who opened it. Sozo, a long strip of steak still hanging from his mouth, dribbling juices first onto his plate, then the table and then his own fine clothes as he sat up, straightened in alarm, eyes widening. Hastily, he choked the last bite of his meal down. "What... what can I do for you, lieutenant?" These were likely the ones his associate had mentioned, who would be finding the planted evidence. They were early and he was annoyed, but people were watching.

"Sozo-Calupé-Cenzan?"

He scowled. "But yes, of course! What is it, man?" Can't you see I'm eating!? If they wanted to sit down for a meal, it was altogether too much. His associate was always prodding him with these little nuisances, trying to impress upon him that he was her junior partner.

Instead, the lieutenant nodded to his officers and took a step back. They nodded in return and it was all very odd. Sozo regarded them with growing annoyance, a rebuke making its way to his mouth, ready to be delivered. "By order of the crown and authority of Nyax-Acan, high commissioner of An Zenui-" They produced handcuffs, of all things! *Handcuffs!* "-you are under arrest for the crimes of assault causing bodily harm, property destruction totaling over five thousand ganâx, kidnapping, theft, falsification of evidence, sedition, and conspiracy to commit murder."

Sozo, who was just lifting a drink to his mouth in an attempt to calm his shaking hands and shaken nerves, sputtered and spat it up. "W-what!?" he sputtered, face and voice matching in their incredulity, "Is this some sort of joke of Wesca's!?"

The lieutenant made a face at that and it morphed almost into a smirk and Sozo realized that he had just made a most calamitous error. "I can assure you that it is not, sir. Please exit the booth peaceably and come with us."

"And if I do not?" he asked with shaky calm, a growing edge to his voice.

"Then we will be forced to drag you in like a common criminal, sir." The lieutenant's expression was implacable.

"And is there no way we could perhaps sit down for a meal and discuss this?" the guildmaster inquired, heart hammering, pulse in his ears. "The food is quite good," he continued, "very much a gift from me for good officers following bad orders, only doing their job."

The lieutenant straightened and, with that, he made a small signal with his hand. The officers moved in and Sozo threw up his hands. In full view of all those who could see, his head was slammed unceremoniously into the table and handcuffs were snapped around his wrists. "You fools!" he roared. "You *animals!!!*" He shook and thrashed. "Do you *know* who I am!?" He kicked one and she faltered, but it was only momentary. "Do you know what I could *do* to you!?"

Thus, it was, that Sozo-Calupé-Cenzan, master of one of the five great guilds, scion of an ancient noble house, was hauled out of a diner, thrashing and screaming like the common criminal that, at heart, he was.



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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by YummyYummy
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Assani 19th

Location: Xochiyeiteteo - 4S Farmstead > An Zenui - Omenaxan
Day of the week: Lepdes
Time: Morning
Present: A lot of people.





















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Cozesteo's Revelation












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Zarina straddled her Alpha Froabas, leaving Riesco at the stable with his friend Nuro and the safety of Zox and Jascuan. In truth, she would have preferred to leave Alqasas there too, but without the mistress the beast could prove to be a problem, especially if something happened to the beastmaster. The dragon led the herd of tuskers in the air, with An Zenui as their destination.

The duo of human and dragon split from the herd as they approached An Zenui, as to not alert the authorities, but also to provide Zarina with the privacy she needed. A stony plateau that had a view of the city and was decently elevated would have to do. The mount found its footing and rested where it could find the last golden glimmers of sunlight. Meanwhile, Zarina sat down at the edge, legs hanging want shoeless. In fact, most of her clothes were folded under a shrub barring a few light pieces ton her. Her few goods were put in a sack with a long belt tied to it, placed next to the clothes. And finally, her shield remained by her, just in case. On her lap, she pet Nibbler who was enjoying a fruit from Jascuan's garden.

Zarina pouted, lips flapping. “Ipte darn it, I would've liked to see some of that festival.” she swung her legs and waited, her eyes flicking up to the clear skies from time to time. Soon, the moons would provide beautiful, natural lighting to the event.

“Wh-at a mess.”

Blood surrounded the girl. No longer was she the soft-skinned Virangish girl with a bit too much money, hiding behind a pristine armour of platinum and dragon scale. Now, she was a beast. One the word had not see in so, so long. Curved, goat-like horns twisted just above her scale-ridden ears. She still resembled Zarina Al-Nader, right down to the eye colour and facial features. But she was distinctly Tryannus Horrifer too. Most of her body was covered in scales barring portions of her appendages and her abdomen. Her arms were abnormally long with a membrane still forming between them and her sides. The nine foot humanoid dragon loomed over the desert and once again grew familiar with this wretched form.

She whistled, prompted Alqasas to take flight, while Nibbler casually hopped onto her shoulder. By the time she was ready, satchel tied to her waist and shield slipped on like a perfectly tailored shoe, the message was received.

“It's g-go ti-me.”

And she vanished, while Alqasas was ordered to circle the skies of An Zenui until called upon. The four-moon Horrifer remained static above the city itself, witnessing the chaos unfold below. Her peers were successful, and she could even feel the Ayla's power - a power that even dissuaded an Alpha Sand Wyrm from rampaging.

Then, she felt it. Her instincts captured the signs of imminent danger, and then her energy senses confirmed them. With people dying by the hundreds, she had to act. She had to save. And she had to kill her enemies.

Classa!

Time slowed down to a near stand-still. Only briefly, in her own timeline. She could see the inevitable coup de grâce reaching for the precious Centaur. In a small fraction of a second, the black dragon stood before the girl, arm-wings wrapped around her as a shield. The spell was not going to pierce through the black scales.

The dark curtain opened, liberating Classa. Nibbler hopped into her arms for comfort. The transformed teen smiled, showing off sharp teeth that rivaled her Froabas'.

Zarina looked over her shoulder to witness what had happened as her long, wicked tail sporadically whipped in the air and obliterated the occasional piece of debris.



How they writhed and contorted. Blood poured from their mouths, their ears, and their eyes. Their teeth fell out and their skin fissured, crisping, cracking, peeling, a red mist hanging in the air. Bones cracked and hair caught fire. The unholy sound of their dying screams filled the night and the would-be revolutionaries fled before a fell power they could not begin to comprehend.

The blood hung there, thickening, and then came the bones, the skin, the flesh. Twining together in vile tethers, it snaked across the burgeoning hellscape at the heart of An Zenui. These rivers joined and grew, steaming and hissing. The ground trembled and heaved, swelling and burning.

Then, there were veins, threading through the night sky, rising a hundred feet in the air - two hundred. They twisted and solidified and... began to move. The circulatory framework of a great hand plunged into the ground and pulled out a chain of screaming, wailing demons. It raised these to its mouth and then there were bones, congealing, building, hardening: teeth that tore them to shreds, skeletal fingers, arms, legs, and a vast ribcage, within which beat a molten heart. Steam and smoke rose from the growing monstrosity as flesh began to entomb it. This vented through the air, whistling and hissing. Atop the head formed a gnarled crown of bone and then, from its back, sprouted vast, skeletal wings that dripped a foul black mist and sheets of flaking skin as they spread. Its bones groaned and crackled with every step. Its flesh seared and one could smell the sickening sweet stench of cooking meat.

“De-mon.”

Then, came the noise. Its toothless mouth unleashed a warbling scream that held enough force to tear back the curtains on the battered stage and send people running for cover. Skin now covered the demon, and it was a lithe, towering female figure with a lumpen, misshapen crown growing out of its head and yawning eyeless black sockets. The bones of its fingers extended beyond what its blackened, pestilent, and peeling skin could cover, ending in gnarled, branching talons. White smoke seeped and vented from fissures as it moved and burning black blood dripped from where the bony crown and vile wings emerged from its tortured skin. Its feet were massive and thick, like an elephant's, and they pulverized the ground wherever they touched it, burning and scorching as they went.

Last of all, came the eyes. They grew into those empty sockets, hundreds of branching veins, hardening and blackening and burning. Yet, instead of forming into two complete eyes, each stalk formed a little ball of its own that moved as it wished. There were hundreds, each fist-sized and, from behind them, came a hungry orange glow that licked and snapped and flared with eager malevolence.

Thus, for the first time in a thousand years, was summoned the Grand Demon of Cruelty:

Hetraxa




"GORGE!"


It commanded an awful, inhuman voice, multitude joined as one, in truth. Immediately, for dozens of individuals present and nearby, their manas began drawing energy uncontrollably, filling them with it to bursting point.

The beast merely glared, expelling copious amounts of heat as it was forced to draw.

Fire everywhere. None burned as hot as the unrefined rage inside the Wildblood. The instinct to lash out at the unnatural was strong, and the indignation for all the deaths and desecrations she had just seen was even stronger. The immense violence she was about to usher into this world was going to be the justice both sides implied in their own, animalistic ways.

Her allies minded the people and the fires, while Zarina charged head first into the monster. The blows, as mighty as what at least two of the others could muster up together, made her better for this role anyway.

An utter slugfest with the amalgamation of flesh, and yet it hardly hit back. Was it ignoring Zarina? Or did it not see the point in taking down the resilient dragon first, and aimed for the weaker ones? None of these thoughts crossed Zarina’s mind. It didn’t matter. All she wanted was to destroy this thing in particular, no matter what it did.

Then, it took a particular aim toward Josca with a concentrated blast of energy - one the cazenax could not stop alone.

Driven by both a desire to devour the energy but also the human portion’s instinct to channel the will of Oraff-Zept, the half-transformed wildblood appeared before the girl and halted the blast with some light aid, and then returned it to the demon.

Nothing. Not even a scratch. If anything it claimed the flames to use later.

The dragon was vexed. Any thank you or call was zoned out. All that mattered was hurting that tower of flesh.

The struggle was real. Her blows hardly scratched the mass, and the efforts of her peers merely chunked a few insignificant pieces of flesh. Something had to change, NOW.

Taking to the air again, the Horrifer inhaled slowly, syphoning in energy with the help of Gorge and its own special organs to contain the specific conversion and transformation she was doing. Arms opened, a ball of green energy began to form inside her opened maw. Then, she fired. A loud screech that rang for many hundreds of metres. A beam of energy got to the upper right of the beast, and with a simple turn of her head, was dragged horizontally down fast like a blade carving a piece of meat.

The grand demon recoiled, a massive burnt gash on its core and the first significant damage it had taken. It was vulnerable.

The dragon recoiled, overheated from the previous attack with steam erupting from her orifices and pores. She was vulnerable.

But she also had allies, and they capitalized fully, until Hetraxa’s fury grew into something new. For all of the devastation that this demon had wrought, those arrayed against her had struck back and struck truly. After eating a nuclear blast from Benedetto, bound by Ayla, she paused and released a colossal amount of scalding steam. Those surrounding her reeled back as she began to change …

"I CALL UPON THEE, OH CREATURES OF PESTILENCE AND FILTH. BRING FORTH THY DESTRUCTION UPON THIS WORLD!!!"




An enormous swarm of insects began to form.

Kneebiters and Sanguignats. None passed through the exorbitant heat around Zarina, and they quickly learned the futility of doing so. Instead, the others were prime targets, while the Wildblood’s position didn’t change.

The pounding continued, and the state of the group was starting to deteriorate. It gave Zarina all the more reason to prepare her next nuclear blast.

But then, as she readied her claws to gore a nearby portion of the demon, Classa was dragged before her!

“I... LET ME GO! LET ME GO, YOU BITCH!” the girl let out a terrified sound.

Zarina stared right at her with gold, feral eyes.

“Don't hurt me! PLEASE don't hurt me! I don't mean it!”

Then she looked at the demon. And finally to the nearby bugs. They were too close, and so she unleashed a stream of acid that morphed into a corrosive cloud to consume all the vermin. And with enough time, Ayla was able to clear the Dominion curse from the centaur, letting her scurry off so that the grown ups could end this.

The next big laser was in order: One that’d pierce through the core of the monster, leaving a bleeding hole in its place and causing it to stagger once more. Enough for Desmond to claim another significant piece with his special bullets.

Although not before finally getting a swipe off Zarina. The massive set of cleavers finally caught her off guard in overheat. Her reaction was slow and she had to catch the blade to hold it back, creating massive gashes on her palm, abdomen and forearms. Slowly, these would begin to heal, but now it was clear that even the Horrifer’s scales could not entirely stop this monster’s rampage.

Once again, Hetraxa was undergoing a change …

This time, a green mist surrounded the colossal creature and it sunk deeper into it.



"NOW YOU WILL KNOW MADNESS!!!"


It rang in ALL their heads. Madness from the Void. A sickening feeling. An enraging feeling.

Zarina began to gather energy. An obscene amount, and concentrated the excess into her core, where her final Horrifer blast was to take form. All that had to be done was survive. Survive the plague mist that infected so many. Tku, some of the snakes, Marci … She could sense it - the sickness in them. Taking their skin.

This needed to end quickly.

In position, the Wildblood took aim. Everyone could now sense the obscene quantity of energy she had focused into one point. The madness had made her even more callous to the potential destruction she’d bring, but perhaps considering that angle was a ticket to death. Maybe this was necessary.

And just as she was about to attack, Zarina turned to her friends. No longer was she in control of her body.

“NO!” she screamed. “NO! WHAT! NO!”

No amount of rage could stop this. Her grand finale was no longer pointed at Hetraxa, but at her own sister. She could not even self-destruct, everything except the mind and speech was robbed of her.

She fired.

And Marceline Hohenfelter-Escarra survived, nearly unscathed, to a Horrifer blast that even put the Nox Arcanum one to shame. With the Zox wall and some help, of course. The smoke cleared, revealing no casualties to the relief of the now burning dragon, exhausted from her last attack.

It was there that Benedetto came to deliver the coup-de-grace to the exposed dragon, with no way for her to defend herself. She looked Nyax-Acan right into the eyes - his furious and regretful eyes - and prepared for the end.

Except Marceline once again defied the odds and hurled her remaining wall to protect. But it wasn’t enough, Benny’s nuclear blast was going to push through …

Until a wailing Alaqasas tackled the blonde young man off his footing and redirected his attack to the sky. The Froabas had acted without Ayla’s command and intervened to save her handler. The animal stared down the possessed Benny, while Marci got to work.

The Cure-All in Zarina’s pouch was swiftly ripped out of the bag before Hetraxa could intervene and the vial shattered to coat the Wildblood with the stuff. In just a few seconds, the curse was lifted. Zarina was back in the game, right by her dragon. She layed a gentle paw onto the alpha’s snout as a thanks.

The hour was dire. The sickness was spreading further. Soon, they would all be dead. And Zarina was the last singular heavy-hitter with Benedetto still possessed. And she did not have the mind to strategize quickly enough.

But Tennaxi did.



She knew a new dominion was coming. The young raider-turned-close ally was more observant than most. Something had to be done before the many eyes glared once more unto game changers.

Josca and Desmond, in one coordinated assault, shattered the remaining barriers the demon had put up. It could not be stingy anymore and needed to put everything in its next attack. An attack it could not be allowed to have.

“It okay.” something called to Zarina. “Friend.” and then it came from behind. She recognized it as a shadowy aura surrounded the Horrifer’s body with a little, dark form grabbing onto her from behind, this time with legs.

“Together.” she said simply. The dragon understood.

To the heavens they took, and even higher. They did not move normally, however, and instead Zarina had rapidly warped to the stratosphere. A cold and beautiful place. She could see the stars, and all of Sipenta! But her eyes were on one, minuscule point: Hextraxa.

“T-T-Together.” she uttered before descending down. Gravity and her own immense power made exponential by Tennaxi’s influence made of a crashing celestial body that terrified many ages.

High up, it looked like a simple, red comet slowly making its way down. Dangerous, but far. However, as Zarina his maximum velocity and burned bright, she vanished.

And appeared right on top of Hetraxa with a single, darkened fist lunging right at its centre.

“I’LL STAAAAKE IT ALL! TO KIIIILLL YOU!”

Tried as she might, the creature’s defenses quickly crumbled and the Wildblood pierced right through her, leaving a massive hole that traversed through her body, to the point of rendering the body near-unusable.

Massive tendrils of thick, oily blackness snake up from the abyss. They entwine themselves about her arms and legs. They wrap around her waist and up over her shoulders and the bony crown growing from her head. The ground opens up, glowing with an unholy dark fyre.



""N O ! I W O N ' T G O ! I ' M N O T R E A D Y !"

Her eyes become sharp, black things that burn with fury and hatred.

""T H E Y M U S T S U F F E R ! Y O U A R E I N S U L T S T O C R E A T I O N !"

She thrashes and struggles and the tendrils begin to snap, but more emerge. She manages to break one massive hand free and her bale gaze settles upon…

""Y O U ! ! !" she roars, fist clenching Ayla tightly, with bonebreaking force. ""Y O U C O M E W I T H M E! T O W H E R E Y O U B E L O N G ! ! !"

It takes notice of the spell that was used.

The great stone pinnacle shudders.

Further towards hell, Ayla is dragged.

She sees the truth of it in that moment, below her, above her, all around her.

She is weightless.

She is everything...

and nothing.

Then, as the ground begins to close, the VOID of hell wavers and writhes.

This... THING that should not exist within reality is met with the world's fury, its disgust, its.... wrath.

All of this channeled through one boy - almost a man.

The great, desperate hand crumbles to ash and the ground... implodes.

The force is terrific. An Zenui rises and falls.

Great boulders and shards of rock hurtle in every direction.

Ayla, however, is not returned to reality.

For she is of it and also not of it.

She hangs there, in limbo.
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Xiuyang Solari
The Sage and the Scoundrel




Xiuyang followed the sagely twin, Emperor Ten-Re as he led her away from the gathering of other students. She was certain that this would be an unpleasant meeting, if not her end. As a Binder, Cold Soup had died on her watch—worse still, she truly got the impression that Mountain Spring was going to quit because of it, what with the way he had left her his gourd and just, walked off into the sunset. She clasped her hands behind her back, willing them to be still. Her voice too would have come out shaken were it not for her ever-present mask. "...That was well handled, Wànsuìyé," Xiuyang offered, to break the desperately unbearable silence.

"Ah, the box? Just a fun little prank my brother came up with; entirely his idea," Ten-Re replied with a smile. Xiuyang smiled too, in spite of herself. She imagined that his brother would say the exact same thing. "The lesson seems to have fallen on deaf ears, for now," she lamented. "But your ears are open, yes?" the Emperor replied as he took a seat, and motioned for her to do the same. "Like beaches to an ocean," came the smooth voice, even as her heart beat madly in her chest. "Excellent! Mountain Spring told us all about you, you see—how you handled the negotiations well under pressure, and came to his aid when it counted, even though you promised no such thing."

Xiuyang blinked. Well, it looked like she had it wrong about Mountain Spring quitting at least, so that was one strike from her record—but had she really handled the negotiations well? Sure, her mask let her project an air of confidence, but ultimately she waffled and lost her footing. Mountain Spring had her firmly beat. To say nothing of Cold Soup... Ten-Re raised a finger. "Tsk! Not a word; I can see the objections on your face. You said your ears were open!" Xiuyang scratched her neck sheepishly with a fingernail. There wasn't much face to look at, but when you were as old as the Emperor, she supposed... "I'm listening..." "Then accept the compliment! You show great promise," he declared victoriously. "Very practical people, the Solaris. Skittish, and quick to disappear in times of personal crisis, but always come through for their allies when it counts—an example of which we've seen today, I wager."

Xiuyang shuffled awkwardly. She wasn't used to receiving praise, let alone from an Emperor. She also wasn't sure how seriously to take him, considering the circumstances. "...I assume you pulled me away for more than just a royal pep talk," she offered politely. "Ach, yes. Very practical people," he repeated, this time with less bluster. "Truth is, you have some bad news coming your way. I'm cutting in line a bit, since I have something to say on the matter—softening the blow, you know?"

"Oh, good. Bad news was in short supply lately," she replied facetiously. Needless to say, between being pressed into the service of sanguinaires, killing her first human, her friends nearly being fucking eaten by dragons, and eldritch space squids... existing, she had a lot on her mind. Her life had been forever changed by the knowledge of the knowers. Her willingness to owe sanguinaires a favor in exchange for a chance to save lives, including those of herself and her friends, didn't surprise her—but her willingness to kill a man in defense of a stranger she'd just met that very same day... perhaps it didn't call her entire system of morality into question, but it did frighten her some. They always did say that, while killing never gets easier—justifying it does, after the first. She wondered how she could just go back to her merchant life after this, and act like none of it ever happened—because what else could she do? Fight the knowers? She felt so... insignificant.

She thought she knew her place. Royals and Nobles moved the world. Merchants moved money.

It would be best if she returned to her place.

She couldn't.

She must.

"Your father plans to remove you from the company payroll."

"...What?"

The reply came before Xiuyang could control the emotions. Even the device on her face couldn't mask her anger.

"No. He—He would never." She wouldn't dare call the Emperor a liar, but surely he must be mistaken.

"'As soon as the draft passes over her, you'll have her place in the company.' Those were his words."

"Who?!" Xiuyang demanded, her eyes wide with fury.

"Your brother-in-law, Eustace."

A good man. Noble, and treated her sister well, from what she'd read.

Her countenance fell. Perhaps if she'd had someone to hate, this could have been easier.

"I... I don't..." she stammered, looking down at the table in front of her, as if to find an answer written in the lines of the wood. She grasped at her temples with her hands, as if to find deeper truth hidden in the locks of her hair, or the depths of her mind. Why? Why?! She gave up everything for this! She didn't have the beauty, charm or social grace of her sisters. She didn't have the social rank or the clout to move the world, nor the strength or courage to stand up and change it. What was she, now? Just a girl with high RAS? Just a number, nothing more—maybe that's all she ever was. Just numbers on a ledger.

"I don't have... anything else." Her hands trembled as she hid her face from Ten-Re.

"What do you want out of life, Xiuyang?" he replied with patient grace.

His words ought to have brought clarity. Such were his intentions, ostensibly.

Xiuyang, however, remained silent—not because she found herself unable to speak, for there was no need for her lips to move. Rather, she simply lacked the conviction to bring voice to her thoughts: to see the world. All of Sipentia, its peoples and cultures: art, music, tradition—the vivid tapestry of color that sentient beings brought to creation. To think that these unfathomably powerful beings could sneeze and it would all be destroyed. It seemed so worthless now—so childish to cleave to these things as though they were her life's purpose.

"I... don't know," she lied, weakly.

For a moment, there was silence.

"...As a father, I suspect he did this to protect you from involvement in the brewing war. Could you be held responsible for the shipment of weapons that may be used against your friends, and think nothing of it?" he asked her meaningfully.

Xiuyang hesitated, only for a moment. "This... is my strength. It couldn't save Cold Soup, but it—it's not worthless," she said, unconvincingly. After all, it was worthless if it couldn't be used. A sudden realization hit her. "No, it—it is. I can't even honor my end of our deal anymore." Ten-Re shook his head. "Fret not. You acted in good faith, and we intend to honor our end of the bargain anyhow." Xiuyang looked at Ten-Re like she couldn't believe her ears. Ten-Re smiled as their eyes met for the first time in a minute. "You've been through a lot these past two days, Xiuyang. It's enough to make any young lady's head spin. Go home—get some rest, process everything. Worry about what 'your end of the bargain' may be later. Offer yourself just one kindness, and let go of your ego." "My ego?" Xiuyang replied, confused and borderline offended. "Do not blame yourself for Cold Soup's loss. There was nothing more you could have done. It wounds one's ego to admit, but it's the truth."

Xiuyang clenched her fist, objections stubbornly forming in her mind in spite of their foolishness.

"If you lack strength, reflect on that," Ten-Jiu interrupted, causing Xiuyang to shiver, startled. How long had he been there? "—and work for us! If you need more power, we will give it! The proof is in your hands. We reward hard work and loyalty, unlike some people," he added with a grin. Xiuyang's eyes drifted to the staff currently tucked in her elbow as she regarded his words. Ten-Re shook his head. "Do not hate your father, Xiuyang. When you live as long as we have, old grudges seem like such small things; but to you, they are poison." "Bah! Screw'im! Anyone with eyes can see your talents being wasted. You wanna spend your whole life doing paperwork? Fuck that!"

Xiuyang smirked. They had a point—but they most certainly had an agenda, as well, though she knew not what.

"Thank you for your wisdom," she said as she rose, intending to excuse herself.

"Our information network is vast. We'll be in touch," Ten-Re said with a wave.

"As always," Xiuyang shot back with a wink, straining herself to appear positive.

"Figured it out, have you?" Ten-Jiu smirked.

"...Yeah," she replied as she turned to leave.

Betrayal.

That was what she felt now, as she walked away from the Twin Emperors. This was his fault—his stupid fucking idea to come to ReTan, and now this. She'd intended to offer only what she needed to in order to be able to escape the sanguinaires, and he'd managed to cock that up thoroughly enough that she now owed them a blank check! She'd wanted to ask Ten-Re if he knew all along that she had nothing of value to offer—if they were toying with her from the start, knowing that she no longer held any real authority in her father's shipping company, taken from her as if he'd already given her up for dead, as if he'd sent her here to die if she didn't know the man any better. She certainly thought she knew her father—no, she did—but he'd changed.

And now... of what use was she, to anyone?

She wasn't strong like Ashon or Jocasta.

She'd lost to Maura, in the end.

She couldn't outsmart Mountain Spring, who'd beaten her at her own game.

She couldn't even begin to touch the schemes of the Twin Emperors, who seemed to see and know everything.

If they could, they'd surely see what she saw: just a binder with high RAS.

One who refused to hurt anyone, or commit to anything meaningful.

Behind a mask, behind a tree, beyond the Emperors' sight—Xiuyang grit her teeth and wept bitterly.
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Th3King0fChaos
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Th3King0fChaos The Weird

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Into the Void




While the city had been meet with such destruction, the Dowager Queen and Wesca are in full flight, nearing the edge of the city, glancing back at the destruction wrought by their avarice, cruelty, and selfishness.

Ayla will need to be plucked from the space between reality and the VOID, but who will do it? Who will risk a trip they may never return from?

The city is about to suffer a great calamity, such as it has never witnessed before. Who will save it?

Then, from the ruins, emerges a hero. His name is Cozesteo and, mere days ago, he was like any other man.

















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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Force and Fury
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Force and Fury Actually kind of mellow

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There had been a point in her life when Jocasta had hated the world and everything in it. She had first been a victim: bitter, helpless and frightened. Then, she had found her strength but lost none of her hatred. She did not, by and large, know the faces of most of her victims. She never would. She had been told that they were bad people and hadn't cared enough at the time to question those who seemed - to her warped and damaged teenage mind - to be good.

Then, San Agustin happened. Zarina happened, and Ayla, and Kaspar and Abdel and Marceline... and Yalen. Jocasta had come to understand that the world could be a bad place, full of awful people and awful things, but there was good in it too! There were things worth keeping in her life: protecting and having and loving!

It was late and she could not sleep. Yalen, thankfully, had managed the trick, but his loving wife paced anxiously about the living room, hands both heavy and light on her wheels. Finally, she pulled on a light shawl and eased herself out of the front door into the cool night air. Crickets chirped and stars shone overhead, peering shyly through the hazy bands of clouds. In a nearby alleyway, two or more cats were fighting and, presently, a dog started barking and drew out three more or its kind to join in the howl.

Jocasta rolled along the flagstones, working up a bit of speed on the flat ground and coasting, feeling the comforting little bumps and jostles beneath her wheels, the sharp wind on her nose and ears. Her golden hair trailed like a series of ghostly ribbons behind her, but her breath did not come out in little wisps as it had in Retan. It was too late in Stresia for that and Ersand'Enise was too warm anyhow.

Retan: it was still with her. What she'd witnessed and been a part of had rendered itself indelible in her mind's eye. Elder sanguiniares, she thought. Sapient dragons, Arcel of Perrence reborn, and that... tentacled titan. The crushing enormity of the threat facing... everyone was, honestly, too much for her to fully wrap her head around, insignificant girl that she was.

But it was not all that bothered her. There had been no missing the looks of reproach: Maura, some rich merchant's daughter whose venomous smile and barbed words had split the group of students, who had twice denied Jocasta land of her own so that the rich might grow richer, who looked relentlessly for advantage with her silver tongue and false earnestness; Abdel, who had rendered judgment upon others with his beasts; Ingrid, who had used her strength to intimidate Yalen into giving up his land - their land - and the security of their shared future. It was another bauble in a growing empire to her. It was everything to Jocasta. She'd had to grit her teeth and bear it for the sake of decorum, because of her position.

The further on that she went, the more that Jocasta thought. Something had surfaced after that, though. She had taken, for herself, three items of value to make up for the loss, ignoring Maura's judgmental glares. How quick she was to turn bitter and righteous when it was her on the losing end of things. Go cry into your stacks of money, you spoiled bitch. Then, there were bullies, like Ingrid and, now, possibly Abdel. The latter at least did so out of some sense of moral superiority and it made him dangerous but not bad. The former, however, the more that Jocasta thought about it, was simply a bully, through and through: eager to threaten with her superior strength and - usually - quick to back down if she sensed that she could not win or felt, in their glares and mutterings, the burning resentment that people held towards her actions.

And that was when Jocasta knew it: she had strength of her own and talent in magic that far outstripped theirs. She had people that she cared for and that she wanted to protect, because they were what made a bleak life in a bleak world... something better: something 'worth it'. But there would always be Mauras and Ingrids. There would always be people who sought relentless advantage for themselves and were either too blind to see how awful they were, too callous to care, or too weak to change. And, as long as there were people like that, there would be a need for Jocasta. There would be a need to protect herself from their aggressions, whether with words or force. There would be a need to protect Yalen and Ayla and Zarina and Marci and Kaspar. The best way to do that was to be strong. There was some good in the world, but it was a place of predators. She could not show weakness. Every testing word by Maura was a sniff for blood in the water, so that she might force and subject her prey into either agreeing with her or being cast as villains. Every too-firm hand on the shoulder, warning draw of energy, or buyout of some auction was Ingrid's attempt to place herself above others and then help them - on her terms - from on high. They were all so power hungry and all so relentless, and...

Jocasta, quite frankly, did not care about any of that. She'd have been perfectly happy to live and let live. Yet, the closer that she let people like that get to her level, the stronger they became in comparison to her, the greater the chance of it happening again: they would step on her. They would humiliate her and crush her underfoot and leave her loved ones vulnerable. She would not be left counting on their dubious goodwill. That was not a mistake she would ever make again. The refuge had used and abused her. The Volti had shown some care - true - but they had used her as well, in their own way. The school, certainly, was using her at this very moment.

She came to a stop, eventually, at the edge of the arboretum, and the cool brisk wind was making her eyes water. She wiped them clean with the back of her sleeve and turned on the spot, blinking and looking about. Not anymore, she promised herself. In truth, she could kill them. She could kill almost anyone. If she were an animal, like Benedetto, she might. It would be so easy and so... What? Satisfying? It wouldn't, though. It would just make her a murderer. It would get rid of a few run-of-the-mill bad people who might, someday, even see the error of their ways. No. Jocasta would have to drink this poison. She'd been living the past nine months in a fantasy world - a kneejerk escape from her more customary misanthropy - where she could simply be nice to people and have them be nice in return. They weren't, though, and the tethered was reminded that she was not a nice person either. She took and released a couple of long breaths, rolling to the foot of the gazebo before turning back. She had her immense magic. She had her position of authority at this school. She had her wits. It was time to use them: no apologies or pretense. It was time to take the offensive.



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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by BlackRoseSiren
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BlackRoseSiren

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Event:Cold Comfort.




Present: Esmii @BlackRoseSiren, Oksana @Ti, Roslyn @Fallenreaper




Esmii on her own.


Esmii took her time to heal herself, she did this while trying to listen to all of the conversations that were going on, and because she was feeling angry she was able to heal herself quickly and was able to fully heal herself.

“I agree with Penny, we need to sort out the boxes.” After she was done healing herself, she decided to go and check on the others.

A Hidden Proposal.


Esmii made her way over to Oksana and Roslyn, as she noticed Oksana was waving her over. Just then she noticed that Oksana needed to be healed, and as soon as she got to Oksana, she started to heal her.

Oksana's hands moved gracefully, a dance of emoted sign language as her words intertwined with Avincian, though in a broken manner, as she brought Roslyn and Esmii to her side. Her fingers pointed to the looming Sanguinaires, an expression of concern etched on her face.

"These are monsters," Oksana’s hands conveyed, fingers curved like claws, mimicking their menacing presence. "They oppress, harm our people," her fingers fluttered like falling leaves, portraying vulnerability.

"Care not for lives," her hands formed a heart, then a dismissive wave. Oksana’s gaze then shifted toward the enigmatic Volti, her hands indicating their foreign nature.

"Seek power, own agenda," her fingers traced a line of ambition through the air. A circular motion followed, her hand forming a loop, fingers curling inwards, symbolising confinement.

"These devices," she mimed the act of locking with an invisible key, "Keep monsters away." Her hands then reached out, palms upwards, a universal gesture of asking.

"You help secure," her fingers locked together, then she opened them like a blooming flower, "For Vossiriyan people."
Her eyes met Roslyn's and Esmii's, a plea for understanding and alliance. "So we be rid of monsters," her hands swept outward, casting away an imaginary burden.

Roslyn bit her lip. She didn't understand what the deaf girl might want as she began to sign and communicate. The Hendlish girl wasn't the best at this, but she had picked up some of it thanks to a few others.

"I'm not going to lie, I don't trust either one. More so the Volti. However, I don't know if everyone will agree. Not to mention these 'monsters' could've killed us, but they didn't. Why?"

Oksana answered back to Roslyn. "Group working for Monsters," she signed with urgency, her fingers mimicking the shadows of sinister figures. Her eyes then shifted to Yuliya and Khaluin, her gestures reflecting the weight of her words.

"They are using us," her hands clasped, then opened, suggesting manipulation. "We are tools for them," her fingers curled into fists, then extended outward, symbolizing being controlled.

"We pretend to be puppets to try to help the people here," she signed with a hint of frustration, her fingers forming a façade-like shape, then moving to mimic aiding hands.

Her gaze locked onto her companions, conveying the gravity of the situation. Her hands shifted, fingers tracing a path away from Yuliya and Khaluin, symbolizing detachment. "Get devices away from them," she signed with determination, her fingers mimicking the act of removing obstacles.

Roslyn's hand gripped her arm. Her thumb pressing into the elbow, showing the high emotions rushing through. "There's a lot of things that don't add up." She didn't want to think about it.

"I recalled the one man that killed the Volti over the river and mentioned that Marz had his hammer. The monastery held the Helegan hostage, and forced them to work."

She paused for a moment to catch her breath, then added. "However, Yuliya could've lied and told us to leave. She told Sven about the insult. There's so many questions without answers." Roslyn inhaled, growling in frustration.

Oksana gestured toward Sven and Marz, to involve them. "Together we can be strong and do the right thing."

Roslyn thought and answered. "I'm not going to lie, I've not been very helpful at all. I'm not sure we can keep it away from both groups, not without being killed." Roslyn glanced at her friend.

While Oksana was talking Esmii healed her. While she healed her, she silently listened to every word they spoke. Esmii was shocked and didn't hide it well. She then also tried to get Sven's attention.

“Sven you need to hear this.” She then answered to both Roslyn and Oksanna. “I am also not sure we can keep them away, but the Volti did attack us can we really trust them”

Oksana then thought for a moment, then she thought of an idea. "We pretend to work for both of them, we run south with the device. To Tundra, they cannot find, We, they safe."

Roslyn inhaled, and weighed her options. "That's not a good idea. I rather not have both sides chewing at our backs, they don't look like they take well to betrayal. Besides, how would the people use them? How could they keep the devices from being taken by the other groups after we leave and if we survive this?"

Oksana shook her head. "They fight. Distracted. We Mouse '' , making squealing noises, and pointed at Sage. "We slip under sight, we no one, no threat." As Roslyn questioned their motives, Oksana looked at her questioningly. "They monster, we not?"

Esmii looked more worried, as she listened to them both. “Whatever we do, we need to be carefull.” She then looked back at the rest of the group, worriedly.

Oksana nodded toward Esmii. "Be safe, no rush blind. Smart play."

“Fuck... how did I get into this position?” Roslyn said more to herself than the others.

“Okay, right now I'm just keeping the devices out of the Volti's hands... That's the only threat I know for sure. I don't know enough to be sure of which side is right. Though I will note, if the devices get destroyed... no one gets them. I don't think either of these groups know how to build them or they wouldn't be after them.” Roslyn then inhaled and looked to the side. “If the devices happen to disappear, I know nothing.”

Esmii looked at Roslyn and Oksana, and nodded in agreement. “We need to get the as many devices to safety”

Oksana nodded, she suggested Esmii and Roslyn go West, and she will go North, and they planned to meet up when it was safe to.

Esmii nodded again. “Yes, please stay safe, you and the others.”

“Be safe, Oksana.” Rolsyn stated as she watched Oksana shift off North, still unsure. She saw this going horribly wrong, especially for someone like her. Clenching her arms tightly, she bolted off to follow her Yaosi friend. Whatever happened, she would have to live with her decision.
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by BlackRoseSiren
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BlackRoseSiren

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Event:Cold Comfort.




Present: Esmii @BlackRoseSiren,Marz @Th3King0fChaos, Roslyn @Fallenreaper, Khaliun @YummyYummy.




Warehouse Mayhem.


Esmii slowly starts to walk towards the warehouse. However she looks back at the other group, to see if she could catch a glimpse of Sven to try and get his attention, however when she looked back she noticed him looking back at her.

Sven scowled and considered, glancing back worriedly at Esmii. “You stay closhe to them, my love. I promishe I will return. Promishe me back?”

Esmii looking back at Sven, and hearing what he shouted to her, she blushed but she couldn’t lose the worried look on her face. “I Promise I will try to stay safe my love, and you better come back to me”

Sven then nodded back at her, then he set off with Yvain.

After watching Sven walk away Esmii turned slowly and carried on walking towards the warehouse. However she couldn’t help but think of what had happened to Sven earlier and was worried. Because her mind was elsewhere she had walked very far from the others, so she decided to double back and meet up with Marz, Roslyn, Khaliun, and Fritz. She soon met up with them again, and they carried on with the group. Esmii while walking looked around, and tried to keep an eye out for anything.

When the group made their way to the warehouse, they saw that the devices were being unloaded into large sacks. There were three bags already aboard the ship and three more seemed to be in transit.

Esmii decided to quietly enter the warehouse through the door. She quickly and quietly looked around, and she then decided to be stealthy and casted Veil or Shadows. She casted it perfectly, and was able to sneak around the warehouse. She slowly sneaked past the guards, however while she was sneaking past, she kicked a rock, and it made a small noise. Luckily the one guard that looked around after hearing the noise, didn’t inspect it.

Internally Esmii said, Phew. After the scare, she slowly made her way towards the bag, but she was only able to pick up one bag that had 10 devices in it. After she had grabbed the bag, she slowly made her way back outside to the others. And she noticed that a new person had arrived that wasn’t working with the Volti.

As Marz rocketed forth until they neared the warehouse, there he saw the many groups moving bags. He and Roslyn headed towards the boat as once they headed on and Roslyn took the bags, he heard the Cyan Volti cry out and spot them as he attempted to heat her brain, but it nearly knocked her out, but not enough.

Spotting Esmii heading toward the warehouse, Roslyn headed toward the ship. With a little bit of patience and timing, her form inched closer with the aid of her magic. However, her foot hit a squeaky board that echoed across the dock behind her. She stilled, holding her breath when something when two pairs of eyes darted her way.

Impulse kicked in as she jerked her hand out at the nearest threat.

“Gaze of deception: visual,” The words left her lips before she thought of the consequences. Her target's mouth had opened, but his eyes no longer saw anything.

Not wasting time, she rushed to grab three bags and rushed off the ship. She spotted Marz form suddenly take off and smack at the Cyan Volti. She reminded herself that if they survived, she owed Marz a drink on her.

Khaliun opted for the poltergeist approach: Manipulate the goods from outside, quite a bit away from normal range, and had them follow Esmii's lead. But a few mooks noticed.

Fritz walked in like he belonged there. He didn't even conceal his presence beyond Magusjaeger fundamentals, the goons were too busy panicked by the blatant theft. Each one of them, he walked up behind them and bonked their heads, one at the time, without any care in the world. They all fell over, knocked out cold.

Then, Dmitry showed up. A small, fast man with wild black hair and burning eyes, he jumped in through a window, shattering it in the process.He landed among the four masked figures. He smiled. There was nothing particularly unsettling about that smile aside from the context.

But then he moved, and body parts went flying. They were not his, of course, but those of the Volti agents. Two of them were torn limb from limb, their blood staining his nice dark silk clothes. He flicked it away, making a disgusted face. "Now we destroy these, no?"

Dmitry.

Khaliun had remained outside of the building whilst the carnage was unfolding with Fritz having a front row seat to the gruesome introduction of the High Sanguinaire. A loud nasal exhale escaped the Strazi. It was time to join her paid associate inside the building and bear witness to the contrast between Fritz's seamless cleanup and the royal envoy's.

“(Would it not be wiser to keep these weapons for ourselves?)” spoke Khaliun in her native tongue, hammer over her shoulder and her feet half a metre off the ground. “(Especially if our enemies would not hesitate to use them against us.)”

Marz nodded to the humanoid blood storm. "Aye, let's keep one, if we fight or are chased, it can take away their magic."

After Esmii managed to quietly get out of the warehouse she made her way over to Marz. “There you go, Marz. Sorry that I couldn’t grab more.”

Marz took hold of the bag and nodded his head while saying. "Thank ya."

Dmitry turned, his movements smooth and halting at once, very much within the uncanny valley. He sniffed the air as Khaliun spoke. "You would like that," he purred in Vossoriyan. “Wouldn't you, Strazi? He grinned and licked his lips.

Esmii seeing this strange person that seemed to arrive out of nowhere gave her a strange feeling. She didn’t know why but he made her feel very uneasy. She listened and found out his name was Dmitry.

The moment Marz took hold of the sack, he set it down as he heard the tell tale signs of something brewing. Marz turned and saw the bloodied jester like man and Khaliun facing off with something fierce.

Dmitry merely giggled, and it was not a pleasant sound. He paused suddenly and glanced down at his fingers, still covered in slowly-congealing blood. Then, the sanguinaire blinked and shoved them into his mouth, sucking the blood away. His head did not move at first - only his eyes. They flicked over to Khaliun, taking a moment to skewer each of the others in turn.

Esmii quickly covered her mouth with her hand after she saw him put his blood soaked fingers into his mouth. She felt very scared and what he did made her feel sick.

"Oh," He remarked, removing his fingers from his mouth with a final slurp. "The answer is 'no'. Those weren't our orders." He blinked. "You're not questioning Radomir, are you?" He twisted to regard her more openly - challengingly, even.

Khaliun steadied herself. “It is hard to believe our Protector would throw away weapons of this calibre.” she spoke flatly, gaze cold but just as challenging as the wretched ghoul's.

“If so, I have a proposition for him. The devices are secure now. They are not going anywhere.”

Dmitry began stalking forward, and it was clear that nothing would get in his way. The Volti's hired help had fled. He approached the students, sniffing the air as he drew near. He came right up to Roslyn in particular.

"Hmm... активатор," he mumbled to himself. Then, he held out his hand. "Very well, then. Hand over bags. I take. Job well done." His eyes found Marz as well and he flashed a great big smile.

Roslyn stepped from Khaliun and Dimitry, pulling in close to Marz and Esmii. When she heard footsteps approaching, her eyes turned to see the monster approach. She couldn't help the trembling edging in her hands as she inhaled. Her shoulder slacked, offering the bags.

Marz took his hammer and flipped it in his hand as he smashed it down onto the bag Esmii had passed him. Attempting to destroy the Anti-magic devices while Marz looked directly towards the man. "No, they shall be destroyed."

Dmitry's hand reached out, clawlike, to snatch the bags. He smiled. "Why thank you, my lady."

He licked his lips, eyes roving greedily over the bags' contents as he examined them. He was about to turn his attention to Marz when the hegelan turned his hammer over and smashed the disruptors in one of Esmii's bags. His head jerked to the side, birdlike, and then he was upon Marz, rearing back to strike a fatal blow. He only just stopped himself. He hopped back. He grinned.

"Oh, a man of initiative!" He nodded eagerly. "Radomir will love you!" His eyes darted, momentarily, in the direction of Khaliun, and the grin morphed into a smug smirk.

Khaliun, on the other hand, did not let the goods get so easily wasted. Immense pressure was applied to Marz's shoulder as he lifted his hammer. “Letting a foreigner destroy what is ours, Imperii?”

The Hegelan was hardly given a look, all her focus was on the true danger that lurked among them. “These weapons are a resource. As a soldier and ruler, Dmitry, you should know this.”

Roslyn stepped closer to Esmii as her breath returned.

Esmii noticed that Roslyn was walking closer to her. She grabbed her hand and pulled her, closing the gap between the two of them, both of them stayed close to each other. This thing made Esmii feel really uneasy, and she watched everything he did closely.

Dmitry whirled. "A ruler!" he snarled. "That's right! And you dare question me!?" He was gone from where he'd been, now behind Fritz.

"These weapons are unholy, unnatural things, and they have the power to destroy how many people's lives? Like the people of this town. How many died because these things were brought here by these outsiders!? Keeping them around only increases the risk."

Marz held his ground, attempting to apply equal forces against the pressure Marz felt upon his own shoulder while trying to smash the devices. Dmitry was like a maddened magpie, the moment the shiny devices that took magic away were destroyed, he leaped and bound to try and take Marz' life. It was but a moment when the magpie's hand neared Marz before the mad man recollected himself.

Marz scowled when the name of the man who had this hammer made was brought up. Marz took hold of the handle of the weapon and began to apply more force. Allowing the natives to speak and distract themselves while they spilled what they knew.

Fritz raised an eyebrow. This wasn't the first time some creep tried to pull a 'nothing personnel' on him. He kept calm, flintlock by his flank and aimed behind him. He made sure the Sanguinaire could feel it. “You're like my uncle Hans. Sniff sniff from behind. Adults never let me get close to him.”

Dmitry merely giggled. He sniffed anyhow. "Mmm, skinspeaker." Then, he was gone. The bitch had stopped the hegelan from destroying the devices. That, he knew, was treason. Vossoriyans also knew that there was only one way to deal with treason.

“Guys whatever we are doing with the devices, we should choose later. But right now we need to deal with them ourselves, and not let him have them. We need to work together.”

“I'm starting to think the Helegans aren't the only ones that suffered here... " Roslyn stated, loud enough for her two companions to hear.

Marz saw Dmitry begin his assault, Marz felt the energy on his shoulder lighten slightly, enough for him to overwhelm Khaliun's as he lifted his other hand and fired an arcane lance out and off at Khaliun. Marz barked out at Esmii, "We destroy them! The bitch seems to have other plans!"

Dmitry flew at Khaliun, then, and he was absurdly fast. As soon as Marz's attack forced her to block, his hand scythed through her legs and then the tethered was in three parts, collapsing to the ground. The sanguinaire's eyes lit up with predatory glee as he stalked forward. Then...

"Tethered" He wrinkled his nose. He turned his attention to Fritz. "I offer you triple," he growled, "And you get to live."

He noticed her blood was on his hand. However, he did not lick it clean. Instead, faint flames danced across its surface and it evaporated away. "Disgusting."

Esmii looked at Marz. “Yes I understand that Marz, but why does he want to destroy them, what do they gain if they are destroyed, what's his motive”

Dmitry grimaced and let out a bark of ironic laughter. "We get rid of a weapon that can cause a fucking genocide, you stupid girl. Motive enough for you, shit-for-brains!?"

Khaliun had barely avoided being struck by the lance, but it was enough for her to lower her guard. A millisecond later and she was legless, on the floor, or rather on her hammer that fell first. Blood pissed and oozed out of her freshly sliced stumps.

The Strazi clenched her jaw tightly to stifle any sound, eyes bloodshot. But just as it seemed like she was to succumb to such a nasty blow, a quick tug of her magic and the opening of a small vial of skinglue miraculously attached her limbs back together. The Tethered ascended once more, panting and forehead covered in sweat.

“I do have a goal.” croaked Khaliun in a raspy voice. “I'm fighting for Vossoriya. And feeble minds like you are what keeps us weak.” a scowl of disgust befell both Marz and Dmitry.

“Your own chaos marbles are what killed so many. The very weapons YOU put under this town.” he accusatory finger was directed at the Sanguinaire. “You had no qualms manufacturing instruments of death with those things.” Then, she looked at Fritz. “I have paid you, and more, up until now. Why would this creep keep his word? Especially with that mana type of yours ...”

Dmitry smacked his lips at the mention of Skinspeaker. He did not yet have it.

"These devices seem more defensive than offensive. We still need to get the weapons..." Roslyn shouted, trying to talk the situation down. However, a small sensation in her gut told her it was too late. "Shit... We don't need to kill her!"

When Dmitry attacked and badly injured Khaliun, Esmii screamed. “No, don't kill her!”

Dmitry laughed. "Nooo don't kill her!" he mimicked mockingly. He laughed some more. "And why shouldn't I? She is my enemy. She is trying to convince you to let her have weapons that can destroy countries and, what's worse, you're listening to her!!!" He shook his head incredulously.

Khaliun sneered. “I didn't put all the marbles under a city and order monks to wipe out the town to protect your secrets.” then, she exploded.
Not from a loss of control. Something else was driving her nuts.

“AND WHO DO YOU HAVE TO THANK FOR SAVING KIRIMANSK FROM THAT, HUH?! WHO HAD THE WEAPON TO BLAST AWAY SO MUCH DEATH?! ME! I SAVED ALL OF YOU!”

Marz barked out. "Simple things. Magic cancelling devices hurt people with magic-" Khaliun then spoke, and Marz took his hammer, and fire burned. The heat became hotter and Marz turned to Dmitry and growled. "You...". He was now dead locked on his new target.

"You put them down there." Marz' eyes flared with fire. "I'm breaking you"

Dmitry tilted his head. "Well, I can't take all the credit," he admitted. Then, he licked his lips. "Bronzeblood."

Esmii rushed to Khaliun's side. She healed her as fast as she could, the damage was significant, however she was able to heal her fully and she managed to give her a bit of a buff, as she noticed she looked invigorated.
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by BlackRoseSiren
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BlackRoseSiren

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Event:Cold Comfort.




Present: Esmii @BlackRoseSiren,Marz @Th3King0fChaos, Roslyn @Fallenreaper, Khaliun @YummyYummy.




The Bloodsucker Attacks


Marz went charging at Dmitry as he aimed to strike the bloodsucker in the head.

The hammer came down with obscene force, and Dmitry leapt out of the way, chittering like a maniac. "All muscle," he mocked,

"No skill." he avoided a second colossal swipe effortlessly. "All speed," he wailed, "Hahahaaaa! No brains."

It gouged a massive furrow in the ground, such was Marz's fury. "All rage," he laughed one more time, standing firm and - he caught the hammer as if it was a toy. His eyes narrowed and his grin became toothy.

"B R O N Z E B L O O D"He licked his lips and dived in for Marz's neck.

After drinking his fill, he licked his fingers off and decided to... go for the healer. An unsettling laugh echoed through the warehouse. He was gone and then he was there, right in front of her. His teeth were sharp and white and his mouth unnaturally wide. He sniffed.

"M o O D c a S t E r" He went for her neck. His teeth clicked shut on... nothing and the sanguinaire snarled and whirled.

When he appeared in front of her, hearing him say her mana type sent shivers down her spine. When she tried to speak there was no sound. Just before his mouth reached her neck, her body reacted and she was able to quickly dodge out of his way. That was close. she thought.

"Feeling brave, are we?" He glared the Yasoi's way. She'd been fast - really fast.

Roslyn fought her flight impulse, her form moving from the monster. Words echoed in her head as she watched Marz's attack, seeing him miss not once but three times.

“Shit, Blessing of Fortitude.” With a sharp inhale, Roslyn snapped her fingers at Marz.

Fritz tried next, attempting to shove his gun in the sanguinaire's mouth. It was all style over substance and easily dodged.

Dmitry whirled immediately and sunk his teeth into the mercenary's neck. Or so he tried. A quick shove of the shoulder had the animal bite onto the magus jaeger's collarbone instead, giving little blood yield and an opportunity to shove the foul being away.

"Feisty!" Dmitry hissed, licking some of the blood off of his lips.

The banquet wasn't over, however. Esmii was, once again, his target. He bowled into her, full force, and sent the girl sprawling, his slavering mouth open, ready to bite down but, just as he was about to taste blood, he was flung away with incredible force by her second wand.

Esmii found herself being targeted by him again, he was almost able to bite her this time, but luckily her wand created a kinetic blast that sent him flying. Her heart was pounding, and because she was trembling with fear, she found it hard to calm herself and stand back up.

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm going to get my M o O D c a S t E r one way or another." He scowled and spat, circling and turning his eyes to Khaliun. "What are you looking at, bitch!?"

Foul air conjured by Khaliun by disassembling the nearby walls surrounded the Sanguinaire. It was radiation, after a complex conversion from one type of matter to another, and then unleashed as a substance she carefully controlled to swirl in a bubble around Dmitry. It filled his lungs and entered his pours, rotting him inside out if he simply let it. But of course, he did, but the lasting damage was not to be ignored.

Esmii finally managing to pull herself back to reality, decided that she would buff Fritz, instead of attack, as he was the better fighter. “Fritz, isn't much but hopefully that helped.”

Marz swung with ferocious force and Dmitry's eyes widened. He put everything that he had into defending the attack and it still pushed him back. The sanguinaire staggered and his palms smoked. He breathed heavily. "Spicy," he grated, shaking his hands out.

“Blessing of Vigor, ” Roslyn shouted as she gestured at the mercenary, letting her magic boost him.

Esmii, noticing Marz was in trouble, quickly decided to help Roslyn to defend Marz. She froze the moisture in the air, to create a wall of ice between Marz and Dmitry.

He was angry, though, and it expressed itself in a corrosive mist that surrounded Marz. He had no chance to defend it on his own and it took a group effort to dispel the evil acid. Dmitry shrugged.

Fritz vanished, suddenly. In the midst of Dmitry's rampage, he positioned himself perfectly to trap the Sanguinaire in a trap of ice laced with a soporific substance. It was just enough to immobilise the monster.

Enough for Khaliun to strike with her hypercharged hammer. Cose close, and yet ... The mortifying bloodsucker put his all power beyond even his gruesome norm, and just narrowly escaped.

Such was his power that he resisted even this, though his eyes were wild now. He hurtled at Esmii. "If you won't give me moodcaster, then you're gonna DIE bitch!" A colossal shaft of steel formed in the air, out of nowhere, and it hurtled at Esmii with irresistible force. Only... it was resistible. It took Khaliun's intervention, but she survived the attack that surely would've been lethal otherwise.

Esmii noticed that Dmitry was angry at her, since he was unable to bite her twice, for her mana type, so he decided to attack and kill her instead. However with Khaliun's help they were able to defend the attack. “Thank you so much Khaliun.” Esmii noticed that she had a small cut on the right side of her neck, after Dmitry’s attack.

From the heavy hammer blow, Marz was slightly shifted back. The madcap was then changed, he turned his body to mist and anger, but it was Esmii and Roslyn to assist him. Marz was then snapped from his anger, he saw what was happening. Marz took in the energy from all the power he found around him and funnelled it to Khaliun.

He was absolutely relentless, attacking Fritz next, and then, when rebuffed, Esmii, whose rare mana type he seemed to have fixated on. Again and again, though, they worked as a group to rebuff the monster. He became ever wilder, snarling and thrashing. He hurtled towards Esmii yet again.

Marz jumped in front of Esmii the moment she was to be attacked as he hit the air as he cracked and waked the space and destroyed the attack that was coming for Esmii, as with the breaking of all that energy, Marz pulled it in and aimed all the power into Fritz as he was filled with static energy to make his body move faster and stronger.

Esmii got herself ready to defend against Dmitry yet again. With help from Marz this time, they were able to defend against his attack. Enough is enough already."Thanks Marz."

This was war. Friends turned against friends. Enemies became allies. The innocent suffered for the woes of the guilty.

Khaliun was all too familiar with it. It was the soldier's way of life. Which was why the moment Marz humbled himself, turned a boon in her direction rather than his hammer, she was not surprised, nor was there any show of ego. Merely a half-nod at his direction to acknowledge what was brewing. And Fritz, in his extensive experience as a man at arms, was naturally on the same page as his employer and fellow warrior.

The ghoul that revelled in blood and gore was so fixated on Esmii that he hadn't realised the increase in mental focus of the landsknecht allowed him to bring to life four physical copies of himself that could all vanish with the ways of the Magusjaeger.

All of them had surrounded the frenzied Dmitry and held him down like a dog that needed to be put down. He could not move, not with the might of four lifeless copies and the entirety of the mercenary's will. Well, not for the next few seconds, anyway.

Khaliun ascended over the bloodsucker, cloak loaded with various goods flowing in the gust of air that penetrated the heavily damaged structure they were in. She was smiling - the same smile she wore when her plan was coming to fruition in the bunker - and readied her hammer over her head with both her hands. “Get back.”

The amount of energy siphoned was unworldly. Everything became cold and even bits of matter were ripped off from the immediate area. But Khaliun was a tethered, and she could draw from much farther. ALL of Kirimansk could feel this overwhelming sense of dread taking over. This was the power to slay Gods. The very one that took the greatest of Mages Ersand'Enise had seen, and it was wielded by a vulgar Strazi with a last name she had long forgotten. This no-name had nothing but glee in her expression.

“The forever nothing calls for you, Dmitry.”
There was no hesitation or mercy - notions Khaliun hardly knew - and Dmitry was only allowed a brief few last words before total obliteration of the sorry bastard that reverberated throughout the region.

Esmii prayed that Fritz's and Khaliun's combo attack would kill Dmitry. When it was proven to be successful, he was actually defeated. She fell to the floor as her legs were still trembling and cried with relief. All she wanted at that moment was a hug.
“Thank you Fritz and Khaliun.” Yes he's finally dead.

The bloody execution caused Roslyn's throat to tighten. She stiffened, her form rooted to the spot and started until she couldn't see for a moment. Somehow, despite her terrified emotions, she remained upright. A cold sweat poured through her skin and enhanced the chill across her skin. She exhaled, releasing it all into the air with the mist of her breath. From her peripheral vision, Esmii's form fell upon her knees. Latching onto someone other than herself, Roslyn moved toward Esmii. She lowered herself to her knees then hugged the girl.

“Yeah, thank you from me as well." She swallowed down the fear from her next words. Her eyes studied Khaliun and her merc then Marz. “Okay, can we take a moment and talk here? I have a ton of questions and I'm getting tired of not having answers.”
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by BlackRoseSiren
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BlackRoseSiren

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Event:Cold Comfort.




Present: Esmii @BlackRoseSiren,Marz @Th3King0fChaos, Roslyn @Fallenreaper, Khaliun @YummyYummy.




A Wolf Among the Sheep.


A long sigh escaped Khaliun's dry lips. Even the moisture in the air had been taken by the ceaseless hunger of the marble. Her ghostly frame slowly descended down until her feet hit the floor, and she stood straight and still, hammer dragged over her shoulder. Then, she walked. With a regular and patient gait, she walked closer to the group, her eyes locked onto Marz and his rival weapon.

“Ask your questions.” He said with a dry throat, eyes peering very briefly toward Roslyn. Fritz, having taken cover behind a crate, emerged from his hiding spot and just kind of sat down. Exhausted and very much in need of a raise.

"Okay, the most obvious question. What do you intend on doing with the devices if you got them?" Roslyn asked, her voice surprisingly even and calm. For now.

“Secure them for my country.” Khaliun answered apathetically. “It's only a matter of time before other countries get weapons like these. I intend to have Vossoriya survive and thrive in a world that is changing. Rapidly.”

Roslyn weighed the answer, then asked another question. "That individual at the river, the one that killed the Volti and tossed him into the river. Who was that?"

“Radomir. Legendary Protector of Vossoriya.” she looked to Roslyn again with quarter-lidded eyes.

“Our very first emperor.”

"First Emperor? That's not possible. He would have to be..." Roslyn's confusion surfaced on her expression as she tried to explain it in her head.

Marz tolled his shoulder as he set his hammer to the ground. Drawing in the energy as he assessed himself. Shifting his and finally opening his mouth to speak, "If yer set on keeping 'em. I wish to keep one. I wish to make a bet'er device against 'em so mi people will not be victims''

“Sanguinaire.” she gestured to the blood surrounding them post-massacre. “Case in point.”

For a moment Khaliun kept up the high-tension silence between her and Marz after his request. Her eyes squinted and studied his small form.
“Acceptable.”

Marz nodded as he formed an impromptu stone block behind himself to sit while he took a breath. There is a possibility more fighting will come and the skittish girls seemed inquisitive.

"I thought those were myths. If that... was an example of what the people are living with. I can understand why Oksana was concerned." Roslyn spoke quietly to herself, her eyes turned down. At Marz's less hostile statement, her form relaxed more. They had seemed to find a mutual ground even just for the moment.

"I want to help you, Marz. I want to know how these work, how to disarm them, and even find them. I don't know for sure, but I don't think either the Sanguinaries or the Volti know where these came from." She licked her lips.

"I don't think we'll see the last of them. Even if we did decide to destroy them." It was then she noticed something. "Have you been always able to walk and just didn't?"

“I've had a chance encounter.” Khaliun answered Roslyn's latest query and then once again focused her attention on Marz.

“That marble. Do you wish to use it on the author of your imprisonment?” she canted her head until her cheek rested on the metal shaft of her hammer. “Radomir, that is.”

Marz looked to the woman, he shifted his head as he met her gaze. "Why do ya ask?"

The Indigo Fury swung from her shoulder and landed with a thud by her. Khaliun's own arm couldn't reach the butt of the shaft, and so she merely leaned against the immensely heavy weapon. “It is made from a Vossoriyan chaos marble, correct?” she asked, although no answer was needed.

“I'd ask that it'd be returned to us once the tyrant has been slain. But ...” her pupils shifted to where she could sense the nullification device. “This device. Did you make it?”

Marz lightly tapped the handle of his hammer as he listened. He thought for a moment as she spoke before he then swung his leg up to rest his foot on his knee and set his elbow onto it to lean while he looked to Khaliun.

"Aye, and the other Hegelans who were once trapped down below"

While Marz and Khaliun talked, Roslyn rose and moved over to the devices. She reached for one and studied it for a moment.

Esmii, for the most part, was silent - overwhelmed. “So, it was a group effort?" inquired Esmii.

She'd been quiet and she knew it. In truth, she was mostly just glad that Dmitry was dead - turned into a paste on the floor or else absorbed into the chaos marble at the mighty hammer's heart. She glanced over at the stain that had been him and swallowed, half-expecting the monster to come back somehow.

Marz looked to Esmii as he answered. "Aye, not one of us alone could have made this under those conditions"

She blinked. Hegelans and their crafting. Her own people were by no means pushovers in that regard, but they were not obsessed with their craft as the mountain-dwellers were. An idea struck the yasoi, however.

“But I bet you could figure out how to make one by yourself, right?" she prodded. “If you needed to?"

“Then you and your associates are marked for dead.” Khaliun said with a straight face and flat voice.

“This device you have renders all the efforts here worthless. They will likely eliminate most of you and keep a couple as slaves, if I were to wager what was the best strategic approach.” She exhaled from her nostrils as she looked down to the sitting Marz.

“But they don't have to know the author of this device is alive. Nobody but us knows.” a smile crept itself onto her lips. “So, let's make a deal.”

Marz nodded to Esmii. "If given the time, possibly"

Marz tapped his hammer handle once more when Khaliun spoke, she seemed serious and yet seemed to have an idea of some kind. Marz' gaze hardened as he responded. "What kind of deal?"

Esmii blinked. “Why don't we all just make a deal to keep quiet as... you know, friends!?"

This was hardly the situation during which to try to press your friends for advantage. Sven had been somewhat wary of Khaliun earlier and now she was beginning to see why.

Khaliun extended her hand. “The device. Give it to me. And you can leave with your knowledge. Make another. I don't care about the specifics. But I need-”

Then Esmii spoke. “Because I need leverage. We are not in a good position. And the other marbles need to be secured.”

Roslyn examined the small globe. It was uniform in color and composition aside from where there was a single small red button. The vast majority was made of a dark, faintly shiny material that was neither wood nor metal, nor was it some other more exotic thing that she recognized. She shifted it from one hand to another slowly. It was not particularly dense, but it was heavy and weighed faintly in the direction of the switch.

When she looked closer, she noticed that its surface seemed to be perforated all over by innumerable tiny holes. There appeared to be no writing or script of any sort on it though, when she tried to sense it, she did pick up on faint magnetic and thermal signatures inside. Her eyes drifted over to the conversation and where it was leading.

“Marz, do you recognize any of these materials that this thing is made of?” She interrupted in hopes to ease the tensions. “I'm wondering, if we can figure out what the materials are then we can narrow down where it came from. I also agree with Esmii.”

Marz laughed as he slapped his knee. "Esmii, everyone needs something. No deal is made without a side needing something".

Then his eyes returned to Khaliun, she seemed to wish to take the device. He tapped the hammer more as he thought, and then answered. "You can have it after everything is done and I smashed that bastard's head"

A flash of suspicion crossed Esmii's mind, but she was, in general, an agreeable enough sort to let it pass. Sure, you needed something in return with clients and strangers, but these were, by and large, people she'd gone to school with for a year or at least fought alongside for the past nearly two weeks. You could just give your word and that would be that, wouldn't it?

“Well, at least we agree that we should take one back with us to study, right?"

Khaliun was unmoved. Literally. “I'll level, then.” dry and straight to the point, her default.

“These masked invaders want the marbles. Vossoriya cannot be left naked after this, or Kirimansk will just be an appetiser. I need to trade the cure to their poison for our lifeline.” she scoffed lightly.

“I can either give them the item itself, or the minds that made it.”

Marz' eyes lightly wandered to Roslyn for a moment as she spoke, he looked at the device for a second and extended to take it. He inspected it for a moment as he said,

"Aye, we call it sea leather. Terrible to work with but melts easily. Comes from the Arid Sea"

Marz nodded as he began to rise himself.

"I understand, I need my own securities too". He didn't make himself hostile as he stood just standing to finish his rest. "The sooner we finish our fight here and secure the Hearts, the sooner we leave and you get the device".

Marz looked back to the fighting happening near the fort. "Time is wasting and if we are too slow the man who I'm aiming for might fall to another's hand"

Esmii had been, once again, roundly ignored. She fiddled a bit with the things in her satchel and glanced about. “Should we just be, um... standing here?" she inquired.

Fritz, meanwhile, had fulfilled his contract and this was all getting very grand for him, and well out of his league, much as he was of a mould adventurous enough to have travelled all of the way across the sea to Vossoriya. He was busy polishing his sword, which he'd had scarce little chance to use in that fight. He'd been happy to stay as far as possible from that monster as he could, except when putting an end to him, of course.

“I've never been there. At least we might have a place to search.” She bit her lip, then inhaled. We can't deal with the marbles," She pointed to Esmii and herself. "but we can buff and possibly discourage any threats. The biggest question is... what do we do with the devices? We only need one, right?"

Marz looked to Roslyn. "As the lady in front of us said, she wants to keep the rest for her people"

Khaliun did not move, still, even if Marz wanted to pass.

“You don't stand a chance alone, Marz.” she pushed herself off the massive weapon she had been leaning upon and reached out to hold it with a single hand.

“Not without me and my arsenal. And I'm not facing Radomir without securing my country's main means of protecting itself. Otherwise it is all for nothing.”

"Right, I meant where we drop them off? Don't want the Volti getting them while we're busy." Roslyn corrected herself.

Esmii merely released a small sigh.

Marz chuckled as he said. "We're letting them get away with the Hearts". Marz then took up his weapon as he began to pass to get ready to leave,

"As long as we're near each other you know it's safe. Think of it as my insurance that I know you won't just pull the same thing as the Tyrant. As how it's been, Vossoriyans have not been quite nice to me and my people"

Noticing her friend's sigh, Roslyn put the handed off device into her satchel. She moved over next to the Yaosi and asked in a quiet whisper. “Everything okay, Emsii?"

Fritz rose, slinging his gun, once more, across his back. He looked at Khaliun. “My contact is fulfilled three times over,” he announced.

He hadn't faltered or wavered, throwing himself into combat on her behalf multiple times and eliminating close to a dozen of the enemy himself.

“And they have been good fights: harrowing and worthy, and I believe I have shown the value of my skills. To attempt to kill the legendary protector of Vossoriya, and an elder sanguinaire, however, is much more than I was hired for.” He regarded her expectantly.

“Oh, yeah, fine," she remarked.
“Just waiting on them two to hash out whatever it is that they will."

“Sanguinaires have not been kind, not Vossoriyans. They're ...” she grit her teeth. “led by degenerated rulers with no direction. They're stagnant. No vision.” she shook her head.

“I digress.” “I'm going for the sacred caves. Whether you come along or not is entirely your choice.” she too was primed to leave. A nod was sent Fritz's way.

“You've fulfilled your side of the contract. I have mine. And you will be compensated once again should you join me one final time. Generously.” she chuckled quietly. “But I understand. This is war. Survival is your responsibility.”

The accumulated bags of devices were gathered about and dragged via Khaliun's expert use of Kinetic magic paired with her significantly boosted RAS. It did make her stand out more, but she didn't have to break much of sweat now that she did not have to actually carry herself as well.

“I'm coming." Roslyn lifted up to follow, her bag secured to her side.

Fritz nodded in return. “I will watch and be available should the need arise. I trust in full that I will be paid should that be the case." In the meantime, they were packing their stolen loot like bandits, eager to make an escape with it and find the hopefully-still-hidden chaos marbles.

The marbles found them. He was standing there in the middle of the darkened warehouse, silver mask expressionless and gleaming under the faint moonlight streaming in through a hole in the roof: Volto Argento. He took a couple of steps in Khaliun's direction and tilted his head to one side. Two gloved hands emerged from his all-encompassing cloak.

They turned over and opened like the petals of a lotus flower in the morning. In each was a pair of chaos marbles. They remained this way for just long enough that everyone could confirm, with their own eyes, what he held. Then, open palms turned back into fists and retreated beneath the cloak.

"I trust you have what you came for as well," he remarked.

It was thought that this was a race against time.

No, they should all have learned by now that time was something they couldn't rely on. The beings they were facing, monstrous and nearly unfathomable, had tamed time herself long ago. The marbles were likely taken right as Argento had claimed Natasha. The fact that he now stood in the very centre of the warehouse did not shock Khaliun. Still, the unease was strong. Little was known about Volto Argento other than he was of the three most dangerous of the murderous organisation. By all accounts an enemy like every other Volti agent. And yet ...

“I have.” spoke Khaliun with unchanged frigidness to her tone, and yet the way she looked at him - the utter lack of suspicion or a glare - suggested some form of familiarity.

The bags she had been carrying were all put on display before her, with only one kept to her side, idle hand posed onto its surface. “Every bag intact. And the Zavesta Imperi gone. Half your men are alive too, the bloodsucker killed the other half.”

Roslyn's eyes watched the exchange for a moment. Still, the twitching sensation of urgency filled her and her feet restlessly moved. Her teeth bit her lip at the one less fighting alongside them, but she couldn't blame him.

Praying they survived, she turned to follow Khaliun. The glint of a silver mask caught her attention causing her to focus on the man standing before them. The Hendlish girl froze, but before she reacted, the man spoke. Khaliun responded, causing Roslyn's eyes to flutter to her. Regrets flooded into her mind and she recalled Oskana's conversation.

“Khaliun, what's going on?" Roslyn didn't stop the question from uttering from her lips. Her frightened eyes returned to lock on the silver mask that signified the Volti.

Upon seeing the new Volti appear, the Yasoi was taken back by how casual Khaliun was talking to them. A thought of dread rushed through her head, she didn't want to believe it at first.

"Khaliun, why are you talking so casually with this person." pointing towards the silver masked stranger.

Looking towards Roslyn, it seemed she was just as confused as she was. Looking back she did have her doubts on Khaliun, even Sven did, which he warned his Yasoi lover. She felt a sharp pain of betrayal, it caused her to speak.

"Have you been with them all this time, even though they tried to kill us not too long ago, or was that part of the plan? Put yourself in danger so we wouldn't suspect you?"

Khaliun tilted her head. “Because he and I have an agreement.” she answered Esmii's first query.

“I needed to pull Radomir out of hiding. The best way to do this was ward off his enemies so he would drop his guard. And prevent you people from turning on each other.” her tone fluctuated into something slightly more venomous in her latest sentence.

“Some of you would side with the Sanguinaires and would not hesitate to kill their own comrades.”

Roslyn shook her head, not believing a word. “No, that doesn't make sense. Why would we turn on each other?”

Her hand tightened into a fist, wanting to strike or do something to stop it. Fear tried to temper the anger snaking its way through her core. This pain was new and unfamiliar. “How can you trust them to keep to it?” Her eyes glanced at Marz to see his reaction.

“Do you trust every single member of your group unconditionally? Do you even know who most of them are?”

“I haven't had a reason to question someone... until now.” Roslyn replied.

Marz grits his teeth, he tightened his grip upon his hammer. Marz looked at Khaliun and spat to his side. "Gods be damned, of course".

Marz' blood boiled before he just sighed out, "Should of known, if they truly came for our lives they would have done so with more force".

Marz spoke out to Khaliun while he was looking towards the Silver Masked man, "So what now?"

Volto Argento merely watched and waited, letting the children bicker amongst themselves. Some showed more of a proclivity for rational thinking that others. Some were 'passionate'. They spoke of him as if he were not even there. Manners, manners. They spoke of him as if could not just kill them all on the spot and take what they held, but that was against the code of the Dieci Volti Nascosti. Except against their very worst enemies, it was always their duty to offer a fair deal, to not merely kill on sight. Then, however, one of them said something that got his attention. It was the Hendlish girl.

"The truth," he admitted. "is that you cannot." he shrugged, walking forward to accept the sacks full of magic disruptors.

"Life's greatest and least moments come from that leap of faith known as trust." There was the slightest turn of his head, as if he were regarding her through the frozen expression of his gleaming silver mask.

"Your friend here is right, however." He indicated the unusually tall hegelan among their ranks. "We have no personal quarrel with you." He shook his head.

"In truth, you are being used as pawns by forces you may want to be wary of." He indicated the bags. "You give us what we came for, and there need not be any issue between us." They could not see how his eyes narrowed behind the mask. "At the very least, we agree that these bloodsuckers need to die."

Roslyn snapped to the man's words. Fear rushed to her surface, but she bit back. Though she didn't have faith her efforts were successful. She didn't move, but she didn't react. She just held his gaze the best she could.

"I find it hard to believe when actions don't quite match with the words."

“We keep the peace.” answered Khaliun to Marz's question. The bags were all presented for Argento to claim, except for one - the bag to Khaliun's right.

“One for Vossoriya. A purge of the scum will be in order once the head of the viper has been severed. To bring in the change we've agreed upon.” She wasn't done. The Strazi clenched her hammer.

“And the marbles. Vossoriya should not be left naked like a buffet for the next hungry elder to claim.”

Argento had nothing to say to the less important girl. He had spoken his piece and she had chosen not to believe him. He turned to Khaliun and shook his head and it was a concise motion.

"The Traveler is not a fan of weapons of mass destruction, and I can scarcely say I blame him." He held one up between two fingers. He smiled, though it wasn't visible through his mask. The intent was there, and that warmth could certainly be felt.

"You hold onto yours, though. Far be it from me to take from someone what they have fairly one and what is not mine to take."

Marz watched the masked man begin to speak and walk forward. Marz listened as he lightly shifted his hammer and set it down while keeping hold of the handle. All he could do at this moment was watch. The man was powerful enough to wield multiple Star Hearts and more so an agreement was in place before him. One that if Marz broke the peace all he would do would get himself killed. Marz just responded to the Silver masked man.

"Is yer plans ta get rid of the weapons?"

Esmii listened intently to each conversation. Esmii plucked up the courage while looking at the person with the silver mask and asked, trying not to sound aggressive. “So what now.”

Argento nodded. "The Dieci Volti believe in placing limits on the violence that men can do to each other, and these weapons far exceed those limits."

Marz nodded back, "That is another thing we can agree on"

Argento inclined his head in polite agreement, waiting for Khaliun.

“I do not believe the traveller is a fan of leaving the vulnerable to their own devices when the scavengers come to feed either.” retorted Khaliun.

“What's stopping Sawand, or an elder's personal army, from making a play? These weapons do.” Steam erupted from an increasingly frustrated Khaliun. Theatrics, of course, as she had planned leverage for this situation.

“Let's make a deal.” she stepped closer to the Volti, hammer flung over her shoulder again. “Half. For the device that can nullify every one of these.” she gestured her chin to the grouping of devices that had been accumulated.

“Full nullification.”

Roslyn shifted to sat down on one of the nearby crates taking a moment to reflect on things. It was the first since they rushed from the monastery that she had the chance to. Truthfully, the exhaustion started to edge in and weighed her down. She had opened her mouth to ask something when Khaliun spoke first. Realising she referred to Marz' device, she silenced her words to see what would happen.

"A device?" His voice betrayed both interest and scepticism, though more of the latter.

Khaliun twisted to regard Marz. And she reached out with the gift to merely tug at the familiar device. The movement made the subject of her offer evident.

Marz snorted out a laugh. "Already slinging it around eh?" Marz began to unhook the device from his belt and held it out for Khaliun to take it if she wished.

The air shimmered slightly, and Argento was suddenly there to take the device instead. He turned it over in his hands, examining it. "Hmm," he sniffed, inspecting some of the details.

"The workmanship is makeshift but intricate - quite different from my own." He handed it over to her. "I suppose I should be interested in it. Appears Hegelan in manufacture if I'm not mistaken."

Khaliun pursed her lips as Argento inspected the goods. His latest comments prompted a brief narrowing of her eyes that fit so well with her natural bitch face.

“The know-how is what I'm offering. Those that made it, to be specific.” she looked to Marz again. “For three marbles to stay within Vossoriyan lands.”

Marz was first taken aback by the sudden appearance of the Masked Man who grabbed the device from his hand, but he steadied himself. It was until Khaliun then 'offered' the knowledge of it. Marz' face scowled in anger as he then barked out,

"I'm not something for trade! You wench!"

“What... have your own? Does that mean you created these devices or had a hand in it?" Roslyn asked. Upon hearing Khaliun offer up the device's creator, the question was forgotten. Her form lifted and immediately stepped in front of Marz, though she knew she was no match.

"I'm not going to let you take him.”

Khaliun sneered. “Do not oversell yourself. You were in the depths for less than a couple of days. Under surveillance. The insight you can provide is close to worthless.”

Esmii followed suit, she stood next to Roslyn, and took hold of Roslyn’s hand, in front of Marz. “He's been through enough, please leave him out of this.”

Argento watched their mixed reactions and smiled behind his mask: "close to worthless" versus "I'm not going to let you take him." Their hand had been tipped by this inconsistency. He had forced this a dozen times and seen it even more.

"It may be true that you have fought against friends of mine," he replied, bowing his head momentarily.

"and this is something I regret, for ample blood has been spilled today, unnecessarily. We all know that it should have been these monsters we call sanguinaires, and only these monsters." He tilted his head in that trademark gesture once more.

"So, I do find it odd that you assume I hold naught more than ill intent," he replied, shaking his head slightly.

"When I could simply strike you down and take what I want, I have not. I wish for the destruction of a horrible weapon - those chaos marbles - and I have not once spoken untruth." He paused, turning slowly to take them all in before settling upon Khaliun. They could not see how his eyes narrowed behind the mask.

"Yet, your 'friend' here has lied both to you - about her deal with me - and to me, about what she wanted and was offering, which, I may add, is to be given weapons of mass destruction - weapons I would see properly disposed of - carte blanche, to 'protect' Vossoriya." He shook his head.

"I know that the bonds of familiarity and comradeship under arms are a heady tonic. I know them well. I have felt their pull and I grieve for my lost friends as you might, but I pray you do not allow these to cloud your better reason. Which outcome is the worse?" He shook his head.

"She has lied multiple times to multiple parties. I am... not sophisticated in my demands. I wish for these magic disruptors so that I may hand them to the common people so that they are not preyed upon by the appetites and avarices of the rich and magicked. I want the chaos marbles that such a horrible weapon might be destroyed, lest it be used." He spread his hands. "I stand here, before you, asking politely."

Marz looked to the others, "Aye, I can agree with the man"

Khaliun scoffed. “If they are such vile weapons, Argento,” signs of growing frustration became apparent in her voice. “then why are they not already gone, rather than being flaunted right before our eyes?” She turned to the student group.

“I have not lied either. My devotion is to Vossoriya and its people. Before myself. Before the crown. Before anything else.” the hammer was hoisted off her shoulder and pointed to Argento. Nothing was drawn, as to not provoke an extreme reaction from others.

“The Volti see eye-to-eye with me in that regard. The sticking point is this. The weapons.”

"Even if we disagreed, as you pointed out, you could kill us and take what you wanted. Which makes me wonder why you're wasting energy talking to us. Also how would you destroy these things?" Roslyn asked, curious.

"And how, pray tell, might I dispose of these safely when it is only my constant drawing of gravitational energy that is keeping them from devastating this entire space?" He tilted his head once more.

"Do you, yourself, know?" He shook his head.

"They will be destroyed once I have them all and not one of these vile items remains loose, somewhere high over the open ocean, as is proper. I was going to let you keep yours, but now you have pricked my suspicions most direly." His voice was fairly bristled.

“Suspicion of what?” Khaliun challenged. “My stance remains the same. Marbles for the architects of the device. I would be content without them if there was some sort of insurance of my country's safety from those that covet it.” she narrowed her eyes.

“But direct intervention isn't the way of our common superior, is it? Which leaves only those like me to protect and preserve.”

"Why, just four days ago, did he not step in directly in ReTan?" Argento shook his head. "If the threat is dire enough, if people would suffer en masse - and not merely the privileged few who place their boots upon all others - he will act. This, you know." Volto Argento straightened, then, and energy began to be drawn, though it was not so very much as one might expect.

"Now, it is simple: I am not your enemy unless you make it so. I want the disruptors and I wish to dispose of those murderous weapons. This is now your choice."

Roslyn subtly glanced at the devices then back to her companions. Could they destroy the devices or get them away before either of them attacked? She doubted it. Keeping her hand mostly out of sight, she gestured for her friends to move out of the pair's clashing zone.

“I wouldn't know.” remarked Khaliun. ReTan was far, and she was here. “I still refuse to stand idly until my country is under the threat of unadulterated destruction to have it protected. I'm a soldier, fighting for the country is all I know. And depending on an outside interest is not a solution to me.” but then she sighed.

“I am not your enemy, however. And we have a common goal that's yet to be realised.” the lifted hammer was spun upside down with the head slammed to the floor. “The fate of the marbles should be discussed once the Thousand-Year Oppressor is destroyed. Is this agreeable?”

Argento paused, and the moment stretched out into the distance of time. Then, finally, he nodded, and there was an audible sigh from inside the mask. "We have terms," he decided, "for now."

Esmii listened, then turned to her friends, “We should meet up with the others.” She offered her hand to Roslyn and asked them all. “Should we be off. Also Argento, I do agree the marbles need to be dealt with.”

Roslyn had hit her limit. "If we leave, the devices will be gone. Remember what Oksana said? The people are nothing, but mice to both of them..." Her voice was cold and steady.

"These people have suffered more than I can imagine, and even we haven't helped that. I'm tired of feeling helpless and being unable to stop it. I don't think anyone is trustworthy of wielding those weapons, but something bothers me. Why so many devices? You only need a few to be effective to keep monsters away or protect themselves." Her eyes looked directly at the silver masked man.

Volto Argento took a moment to address Esmii. "I imagine that all of us agree on that, except for Khaliun here." He shook his head, ready to move on for now. "But combining our strength gives us the best shot at taking down a common enemy for the time being, so we'd best start moving." He began to reach for the threads of space and time once more, taking and grasping them.

Then, the other girl spoke. He paused and he - actually - blinked in bemusement. It was as if everything that he'd just said - an entire manifesto on his intentions, what the Volti stood for, and how very much he was holding back when he could've simply crushed them like everyone else with power might've - it was as if she had heard not a word of it. He saw, then, through the holes in his mask, a small and insignificant creature that had been so stripped of agency, so very ineffectual, that it had lost all manner of reason in its pursuit of anything to grasp hold of.

Now, the mouse bared its teeth at the cat and... he did not much care to be a cat, but was he to indulge her, truly? Did he have time for this when plans laid years in advance - ones which could shape the world for the better - were about to require him to shepherd them to fruition? Would it not just be easier to step on this small, snarling thing and move on. Surely, he had built up enough goodwill with Oraff and Dami... Allowing himself a hiss of vexation and also of warning, he indulged her only so far, turning halfway.

"You assume that our goals are small in scope when, in fact, they span the globe over: everywhere the common people must bow their heads and bare their necks to those who lord the Pentad's Gift over them - to those who rule unfairly and unjustly, using strength as a replacement for competence, privilege as a replacement for wisdom, and bloodline as a replacement for true nobility." He was facing her now, stalking forward angrily, his voice rising as he continued.

"We aim to remake the entire world in the image of love, learning, opportunity, equality, and justice as the Menana tells us that Itte, Sciune, Oraff, Echeran, and Dami intended!" He came to a halt, towering over her though he was not, in truth, so very tall, daring her to strike at him. "This is why we fight all who oppose us with such absolute conviction. It is why we need so very many of these wonder devices and it is also the only reason I have not done as they - and I mean the 'masters' - do and step on you to remove you from my path. I am fast running short on both patience and time, however, and I have stated my truth more than once. I will not do so again." He reached out to take the boxes. Would it be by consent or by force?

Marz listened to the conversation being had, he took hold of his hammer once more and brought it to his shoulder. He seemed contemplative as the others spoke, he was also wary, seeming to stay focused as he listened. It was not until the man stalked forward, seeming to have enough with idle chat. Marz nodded his head to the Silver Masked Man as he took hold of Roslyn's shoulder.

"Let'm take 'em". Marz didn't want to fight the man, he was a potential ally for in an intense fight he expects. Now Roslyn stood face to face with him, and is within moments of being killed, possibly much the same that maddened Magpie was. Marz began to try and pull Roslyn away, "He has some point, but we need to leave like Esmii said". Marz thought it was time for them to leave, it is the best they could do for now. Terms were set to continue talking later.

When Argento words sliced into the air, his patience lost, causing Roslyn to flinch. Her teeth gritted and her eyes remained on him. For a heart stopping moment, she thought he was going to crush her and move on. Instead he towered over her with righteous fury.

Her earlier plan curled into ashes when Marz's voice rang out. With the fight torn out of her, she let him pull her away. "Okay, but I hope we don't regret it later." She said quietly, her core feeling the sting of the earlier words.

Esmii listened to the answer from Argento, but when his interest moved to Roslyn and stalked forward and stood over her, she was terrified for her friend. She listened to what he said to Roslyn and after Argento moved and Marz had talked to her, Esmii moved in front of Roslyn, and slapped her across her face, straight after she hugged her trying to hold back tears, and said.

“I'm sorry that I got angry and slapped you, but please don't do this, I know how you feel, I'm worried and not happy about this too, but Marz is right, let him have them, and he could be helpful later.”

After she had hugged Roslyn for a bit, she then held Roslyn's hand, and looked at both Marz and Roslyn and said. "Lets see if we can meet up with the others and come up with a plan."

Roslyn rubbed her cheek where Esmii had slapped her. She didn't see it coming or expected it, really. Her eyes stared at Esmii and words lodged in her throat. To her credit, she didn't yelp or cry. Just stood there in shocked silence while processing what happened. The redness started to fade, but the dull throb remained. A painful reminder of her foolishness.

There was no excuse for it. Her friends saw that, and anyone with a brain could too. However, her parents taught her that everyone made mistakes. It was what one did afterwards that mattered most. She let Esmii hug her for the whole time before squeezing the yaosi's hand in her grasp.

"That hurt, but I'm sure I earned that. You're right. Let's go." She said in a quiet, but calmer tone.

Before they set off to find the others, Esmii checked, cleaned the area and put a bandage on the bite that Marz got from Dmitry, to stop any infection and to stop it from bleeding. While she did this, she remembered seeing this type of injury, when she helped at her parent's clinic.

Esmii used to think that they were animal bites even though they didn't look like an animal that she knew. "There that looks better, and don't worry I used a normal bandage so we can show the others what happened."
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jasbraq The Youngest Elder

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Self reflection




The days back at the school have given him the comfort he sought for. It was rather noisy, especially for someone like him but it brought with it familiarity. He could be himself, there were no people around all the time to feel a need to prove himself. The air was pleasant unlike that dusty hell of An Zenui.

Fiske toyed around by creating Illusions of the things he saw. First a Cazenax, then a Sirrahi and finally a miniature Hetraxa. He tried to be as detailed but to envelop the sheer terror of such a colossal demon was too much for even someone of his skill. He tried and tried but could only make a somewhat believable illusion of the vile existence and it infuriated him. "Who in the five hells is going to believe this is the real one if they've already seen them?"

He tried to be the hero for once, tried to do good and stand up for something he deemed immoral… yet he was no hero. He was nothing but a child pretending to be a hero, a coward pretending to be brave. At the end of the day he was no Benedetto but just Fiske, someone who did not have the strength or resolve to change anything.

"Vati… Mutti… es tut mir so leid… Ich bin kraftlos…" He muttered softly to himself. "A man who could not protect his family is no man at all." Tears ran down his cheeks, reliving the memories of the past. "Family treasure this, so much promise that. Even when you’re no longer here your stupid words haunt me." He punched the wall of his dorm. "You all knew I would never live up to those expectations, even schwester dearest knew.."

The boy punched and punched until his knuckles began to bleed. Someone who gave up their old name and ran away is nothing but a coward, His fists shivered from the stinging sensation. Well that person died with everyone else! I’m never going back. He walked up towards the mirror and inspected himself. I am nothing but a ghost pretending to be someone I am not. A weak smile covered his face. If this identity is nothing but an illusion I’ll make sure it’ll be the damned best illusion there is!

”I’m going to become one that has a hundred… nay, a thousand faces.” He started with a fist raised into the air. ”I will be the coward when the play demands it. I will be the brave hero if the play demands it and I will play every other part in this play the damned best I can for I am but an actor in this massive play.” He began to work on his Hetraxa illusion once more with a content smile. ”My illusions will be the ones that are going to trick even the gods and the world itself.”
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Preparing for the worst.




The Perrenchman went through his morning routine. His swings became faster and faster as he imbued them with more and more kinetic magic. More power, more finesse. he kept on repeating to himself. The power behind it was enough to fell most mages in one strike… yet not the ones he desires to battle. No matter how strong he became he was but one man going up against a group of monsters that matched his strength or far surpassed it.

With a furrowed brow and a resolute spirit, Yvain pondered the necessity of building a group against the Sanguinaire threat, perhaps a group would not suffice… an army would be needed against these beasts in a human-like appearance. Would the King of Perrence agree with his noble goals?

He clicked his tongue as he thought back to the auction.”Honorable Perrenchman that would fight for Perrence… Not disappointing ones letting such masterworks fall in the hands of barbarian folk.”a Yvain sighed at the thought of the man. ”He showed some promise at first, for a middling noble. Alas, he disappointed me thoroughly.”

With resolve, Yvain began to work on his plans. A recruitment program, a call to arms and selection for those that shared his vision, began to take shape. An order under his direct command, L'Ordre des Roses de l'Aube with the inner circle of La Rose Sanglante. Soon after he wrote the request towards the king to give the order his blessing.

After having finished the paperwork around his own order he began to think about the funds. Pelova would be a good start and he could use it to fund it directly, yet it would produce the results he wished for. He decided to write up a plan to let the great Berbignon realm prosper further. To have a city to rival the great Relouse itself. Encouraging the artisans and merchants alike. Yvain had lofty goals for the lands he was destined to inherit.

Hours passed as he kept on writing the night away before his gaze fell upon a request he had prepared for the Zenith. A request for information that was locked away. The stories about the Sanguinaires and the legend of Benedict the Blessed only tell so much about the horrid existence of the Sanguinaire. What causes their bloodlust? How did they come to be? Many questions flew through his mind as he sealed the letters with his family’s crest.

Yvain felt a surge of pride hit him. He thought back to his encounter with Radomir and smirked. Oraphe has blessed my life for this specific goal. To rid the world of the things that go against the natural way of life.




The night passed and the letters were dispatched towards their respective destinations. Who could I get involved in this? Penny? No, that could spread the news to Yuliya… Yuliya… She could prove to be a good ally if total eradication is not possible. She seems rather ambitious. Then the mental image of the perfect person entered his mind. Sven might be the perfect pick to involve as he owes me his life.. He thought of a list of students he could potentially approach and laughed. “Oh yeah, It’s all coming together.”


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YummyYummy Ayyyyy

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Assani 19th

Location: ReTan - The Royal Palace Grounds
Day of the week: Lepdes
Time: Dawn
Characters: Everyone.






Abdel was back with Maura by his side. A simple shared look confirmed their experience to both of them, and they hugged. A moment of true tenderness after all the death and destruction they had to endure. But it did not fill the hungering void inside Abdel. There was a need to make things right, or at least try to bring his justice to those he could no longer tolerate.

He, Maura and Dayanara made their way back, passing through the soon-to-be confiscated mollusk cadaver sprawled onto palace grounds. Rikard nearly paid the ultimate price, but freed himself just in time to save Captain Zhu, while Trypano stood idly behind them. It all went unusually fast, but ended with nobody harmed, and Tan Zeno Re dealing with the hazardous material. Good.

Once reunited with the others, two were conspicuously missing: Ingrid and Valerian. Both of which Abdel did not hold to the highest regard. Especially not after this battle. They were out of sight, but not out of the Tethered’s range. A gathering of individuals made the tracking easy, and the combination of close contact and shifts in their internal biologies made the outcome of that meeting obvious: They were promised a great power to turn on their allies. Well, Valerian was, anyway. He could only imagine Ingrid was attracted by the promise of power - having something else above others.

Both were going to get what was coming to them. Maybe in a day. Maybe a year. Abdel would not forget.

Then came trinkets from the Emperors. An abundance of wealth, which so many salivated upon. Many that had committed murder and treason. It irked Abdel, deeply so. To the point where he acted quickly to claim the Royal Qilin, distrustful of what his peers would do to this animal. Then, the pendant he’d offer to a prize-less Valerian as a poison chalice with a disingenuous smile.

And then, a first effort to hold these people accountable: Niallus was challenged for his helm. The young Eskandish was left burnt and defeated, begging for death with only his void-stained sword he traded the life of Dragon Smirk for. The young man did not smirk as he passed, but Abdel certainly did as he walked away.

With three prizes guarded by Skuggvars and an increasingly confident Abdel, he made stood with Maura and Joscasta as one of the big winners, along with Kaureerah as a close fourth.

Then, finally, a familiar sight of a grove, now made physical in this world, came before their eyes, and Abdel made his choice:

Truthfulness - The Lychee.
Skepticism - The Almond.


His prime virtues as an investigative tracker. And his main attributes that allowed him to see through the deceits of all the power players, and yet he cursed his lack of strength to make the choices he believed to be the best, in hindsight. But now, with growing power and confidence, he could make everything right.

The wicked will be punished, and their kin will learn to fear the few that could actually touch them. And his reach was about to become even greater.

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