Fallenreaper

The Hourglass Order

Mahal Agha

Mahal "Ceren" Agha

17 | Female | Palaparese | Noble | 7.93

P E R S O N A L I T Y

❖ [Serious]
❖ [Courageous]
❖ [Short Temper]
❖ [Hardy]
❖ [Adventurous]

Mahal learned to grow up faster than her half-sister, Lunara. Because of this reality, she has a bleaker view of the world and it shows in her serious demeanor. Humor and fun sometimes escapes her understanding causing her to stare in confusion. She doesn't enjoy idle gossip or excessive flattery either. In fact, she finds more meaning in gestures of kindness than actual conversation. When approached about her history, Mahal often refuses to answer or redirects the conversation elsewhere.

While Mahal's not afraid to push her luck and body to their limits, she isn't suicidal. There’s a difference between a death wish and taking reasonable risks. This hasn't stopped her sense of taste and mind from being open to trying new things.

Since she was young, Mahal has always struggled with her short temper. Thankfully she lashes out with words more than fists when her patience runs dry. Common sense seemed to evaporate when she uttered a rash string of words, coming to regret it later. It might explain why she rarely talks.

C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E

Eyes: Brown
Hair: Wavy Black
Skin Tone: Olive, moderate tan
Height: 5ft 6 inches
Weight: 145 lbs
Physique: Athletic, slender
Facial Features: Tends to seem always annoyed or serious, even when calm
Physical Quirks: Seems slightly thin despite her appetite
Distinctive Features: Tattoo swirls of geometric patterns forming 'waves' down her back. Upon closer inspection, the trained eye can note the irregular stripe scars underneath.

closest example, but symmetrical on both sides

Fashion

Due to the cultural differences, the local fashion scene is not a favorite of Mahal's. This hasn't prevented her from gradually incorporated it into her own daily wear.

For classes, she wears a simpler version of the regional fashion. She wears the smock, kirtle, and a simple skirt draping just above her ankles. Wrapped about her shoulders and down her waist is a sheer, flowing scarf of lighter color. For these, she has only found deep reds and browns that suit her tastes. Though she prefers barefoot, Mahal will wear shoes when needed.

Outside of classes or on casual days, she prefers a single piece dress with her scarf wrapped about her waist. Floral patterns are hand stitched into it. The colors vary based on her mood, but often she prefers bright colors of yellow, red or brown. On special occasions, she'll wear black with white stitched patterns. She will wear at least one or two of her accessories depending on her mood.

L A N G U A G E S

Name- Origins- Comprehension level- Types

Palaparense- Native- Mastery- Verbal and Written
Inipori-Native- Mastery- Verbal and Written
Rettanese-Learned-Intermediate- Verbal mainly
Sawandish-Learned-Intermediate- Verbal mainly
Avincian-Learned-Advanced- Verbal and Written *

* Struggles with certain words and phrases/sayings, may ask for it to be repeated.

T H E G I F T

Blackblood | Glutton

Magnetic-3
Arcane-2
Binding-2
Chemical-3
Kinetic-3
Atomic-0
Blood-0
Temporal-0
Dark-0
Command-0
Primordial-0

B A C K G R O U N D

On the school records, she is known as Ceren Aghar from Palapar. Despite that little fact, she prefers Mahal and requests others use it over her Virangish one. Born as the daughter of wealthy plantation owner Ruslan Agha and his second wife, she is the half-sister of Lunara Agha. Since a young age, Mahal has been Lunara's caretaker and playmate. She gained skills in how to cook, clean, and even repair clothing. It was clear to her for years who her father favored as she felt she could do no right in his eyes.

One incident, a memory that haunts her, opened her eyes to this fact.

As children, most days they chased each other in the front garden. One day Lunara darted into the coffee fields and forced Mahal to follow. Her half-sister encountered a Thunder Tamarin which bit and shocked her. Determined to protect Lunara, Mahal tossed a kicker snail at it and then bolted off with Lunara. Instead of praise for her quick thinking, her father unleashed his wrath upon her. In later years, the scars of that day were covered in tribal tattoos to hide her shame. A few years later, Lunara received a kitten from one of their family’s prized Goma cats. A protector of sorts.

Their magic manifested around their twelfth birthday at the same time. While Mahal prepared the morning meal, her shout shattered a dish and startled her mother. At the same time, Lunara smashed a vase into a wall. It wasn't the only change that Mahal had to endure when it came to her body. It was subtle at first, but her wounds healed notably faster and she had more energy after heavy meals. Unfortunately, her appetite seems endless forcing her to adapt. Skipping meals made her irritable and weakened her focus, resulting in her being locked away in a tiny room.

Eventually Mahal resorted to drastic measures. She heavily seasoned bark or raw bone chunks, making the ususual materials easier to eat. These denser things lessen the hunger pains to tolerable levels. One of many efforts she discovered to aid her.

After their display of magic, her father summoned her. He informed them that they would attend Ersand’Enise Academy of Thaumaturgy. They had three years to prepare. Mahal's only purpose to be there was to support and keep her sister on track with her task. Any failure would result in her returning home to face the consequences.

Mahal hoped, foolishly, if she succeeded that she might finally earn his approval. A small, quieter part of her knew better.

Over the next three years, her father brought in private tutors for them both. The girls studied together while the teachers pushed Lunara's progress over hers. Naturally her sister thrived, but Mahal struggled with the Avinican language. When the day to depart Palapar finally arrived, their family came to see them off. While Lunara and her mother shared a tearful farewell, Mahal approached hers. After the pair embraced, Onaona gifted her with a small box. Within it was a small, blue kicker snail to always remind her of home. Mahal later named it Koha, or warrior.

Their first year at the academy proved to be a hard lesson in how differently their cultures worked. At first the girls struggled to fit in until they struck a balance. It was during this time, Mahal experienced true freedom. She discovered a love of combat and the adrenaline it brought. Sneaking out at night without Lunara also proved to be easier than it had been at home. For the first time, Mahal has started to wonder about her future and what it might mean.

M O T I V A T I O N

On the surface, Mahal's motivation for attending the academy was straightforward. Lunara needed a familiar face to ground her and ensure she kept on track with her goals. Nothing more or less. So far, she has had little trouble doing this.

On a deeper level, Mahal wants her father's approval. She believed by being successful , he might realize her worth and things become better. Some quiet part of her knows she's clinging too hard to this lie.

The first year of the academy filled her with new experiences, some good and bad. She had experienced a sense of freedom she never knew before. One free of her father's judgment and suffocating presence. She has a strong enjoyment of combat, both in practice and education.

I N V E N T O R Y

Money Mahal currently has about two hundred Magus to her name for personal use. However, she keeps various smaller coins on her up to the amount of two Magus at max.

Wardrobe Up to about six different dresses for various occasions and seasons, most of them picked out by Lunara. Some are even brought recently from the city, but many stem from Palapar. She also has accessories that are more tribal in nature than her half-sister. Earrings made from Goma cat teeth, one or two silver bangles, and necklaces made with decorative stones, shells, and even fur. She also has a few pairs of shoes suitable for the changing weather.

Box Koha's home is a decorative box coated with sap to preserve the walls, both inside and out. The dimensions are about ten inches wide, seventeen inches in length, and a foot deep. The contents within are as listed:
-one snail (Koha)
-two branches tilted for scaling
-one to two large rocks
-plate with any number of food ranging from worms to vegetables
-bowl of water

pet

Name: Koha
Sex: hermaphrodite
Species: Kicker Snail
Age: ~1 yrs (reaching maturity, max life in captivity 25 yrs)

Description: Koha's a pale blue snail with slightly translucent skin. The eyes upon his stalks are a dark black. Upon his back is a dark, earthy colored shell that ends in a point toward its tail. Several dots and shapes decorate the shell's surface thanks to stains of plant/mineral based dyes. Naturally, this changes based on Lunara's whims despite being Mahal's pet. Compared to others of his kind, Koha;’s size scales on the bigger side at about 5.08 cm (2 inches) in length from mouth to tail.

Character: Like many snails, Koha is slow and steady. He moves at his own pace and cares not for the world outside his own. His favorite pastime is inching along any lengthy branches, including Mahal's arm when offered. Though it will take some time. He definitely seems more animated whenever meal time comes around.

Abilities: Koha secretes a thin, transparent slime that coats its shell and body. When licked or consumed, it provides a mild hallucinate that lasts a good hour. Due to the coloring, the potency level is not toxic or lethal.

S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S

❖ Won't shy away from new experiences
❖ Basic knowledge and skills as a caretaker
❖ Athletic and physically tougher
❖ Palapar knowledge of native flora, fauna, and culture
❖ Basic first aid
❖ Martial arts knowledge and experience (learned when able)
❖ Innate and good sense of direction
❖ Healing time is cut by 1/2 to 1/4 time based on calorie intake (more effective when in state of rest)

W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S

❖ Takes things at full face value (Has low sense of humor)
❖ Claustrophobic
❖ Low self worth in her eyes
❖ Growing spitefulness toward Lunara’s privilege with their father
❖ Tends to have a resting bitch face (she rarely smiles)
❖ Due to her secondary mana, Mahal suffers from endless hunger pains. She is forced to eat either tougher organic materials (bark, animal teeth, etc) or up to at least twice her calorie requirements daily to function with snacks on hand. This is in the form of bark chunks, strongly seasoned, on a pouch hidden underneath her waist sash.

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

❖ Tattoos that decorate the back part of her body, from between the shoulders to her lower back, cover scars that stripe across the flesh.

Hexcode: #B8860B

The Hourglass Order

@Fallenreaper Mahal is approved. I imagine you'll be expanding further on just why her father is so utterly awful to her in the future and I look forward to seeing that done well. In the meantime, feel free to move her over to the character tab. Let's welcome her aboard!

@Force and Fury

Indeed, I'm going to try my best. Though I might need to figure out how to do that aside from memories. Sadly, long distance interactions don't hold as much impact as direct confrontation, so that's going to be the interesting part.

The Hourglass Order

Mahal Agha

Mahal "Ceren" Agha

17 | Female | Palaparese | Noble | 7.93

P E R S O N A L I T Y

❖ [Serious]
❖ [Courageous]
❖ [Short Temper]
❖ [Hardy]
❖ [Adventurous]

Mahal learned to grow up faster than her half-sister, Lunara. Because of this reality, she has a bleaker view of the world and it shows in her serious demeanor. Humor and fun sometimes escapes her understanding causing her to stare in confusion. She doesn't enjoy idle gossip or excessive flattery either. In fact, she finds more meaning in gestures of kindness than actual conversation. When approached about her history, Mahal often refuses to answer or redirects the conversation elsewhere.

While Mahal's not afraid to push her luck and body to their limits, she isn't suicidal. There’s a difference between a death wish and taking reasonable risks. This hasn't stopped her sense of taste and mind from being open to trying new things.

Since she was young, Mahal has always struggled with her short temper. Thankfully she lashes out with words more than fists when her patience runs dry. Common sense seemed to evaporate when she uttered a rash string of words, coming to regret it later. It might explain why she rarely talks.

C H A R A C T E R A P P E A R A N C E

Eyes: Brown
Hair: Wavy Black
Skin Tone: Olive, moderate tan
Height: 5ft 6 inches
Weight: 145 lbs
Physique: Athletic, slender
Facial Features: Tends to seem always annoyed or serious, even when calm
Physical Quirks: Seems slightly thin despite her appetite
Distinctive Features: Tattoo swirls of geometric patterns forming 'waves' down her back. Upon closer inspection, the trained eye can note the irregular stripe scars underneath.

closest example, but symmetrical on both sides

Fashion

Due to the cultural differences, the local fashion scene is not a favorite of Mahal's. This hasn't prevented her from gradually incorporated it into her own daily wear.

For classes, she wears a simpler version of the regional fashion. She wears the smock, kirtle, and a simple skirt draping just above her ankles. Wrapped about her shoulders and down her waist is a sheer, flowing scarf of lighter color. For these, she has only found deep reds and browns that suit her tastes. Though she prefers barefoot, Mahal will wear shoes when needed.

Outside of classes or on casual days, she prefers a single piece dress with her scarf wrapped about her waist. Floral patterns are hand stitched into it. The colors vary based on her mood, but often she prefers bright colors of yellow, red or brown. On special occasions, she'll wear black with white stitched patterns. She will wear at least one or two of her accessories depending on her mood.

L A N G U A G E S

Name- Origins- Comprehension level- Types

Palaparense- Native- Mastery- Verbal and Written
Inipori-Native- Mastery- Verbal and Written
Rettanese-Learned-Intermediate- Verbal mainly
Sawandish-Learned-Intermediate- Verbal mainly
Avincian-Learned-Advanced- Verbal and Written *

* Struggles with certain words and phrases/sayings, may ask for it to be repeated.

T H E G I F T

Blackblood | Glutton

Magnetic-3
Arcane-2
Binding-2
Chemical-3
Kinetic-3
Atomic-0
Blood-0
Temporal-0
Dark-0
Command-0
Primordial-0

B A C K G R O U N D

On the school records, she is known as Ceren Aghar from Palapar. Despite that little fact, she prefers Mahal and requests others use it over her Virangish one. Born as the daughter of wealthy plantation owner Ruslan Agha and his second wife, she is the half-sister of Lunara Agha. Since a young age, Mahal has been Lunara's caretaker and playmate. She gained skills in how to cook, clean, and even repair clothing. It was clear to her for years who her father favored as she felt she could do no right in his eyes.

One incident, a memory that haunts her, opened her eyes to this fact.

As children, most days they chased each other in the front garden. One day Lunara darted into the coffee fields and forced Mahal to follow. Her half-sister encountered a Thunder Tamarin which bit and shocked her. Determined to protect Lunara, Mahal tossed a kicker snail at it and then bolted off with Lunara. Instead of praise for her quick thinking, her father unleashed his wrath upon her. In later years, the scars of that day were covered in tribal tattoos to hide her shame. A few years later, Lunara received a kitten from one of their family’s prized Goma cats. A protector of sorts.

Their magic manifested around their twelfth birthday at the same time. While Mahal prepared the morning meal, her shout shattered a dish and startled her mother. At the same time, Lunara smashed a vase into a wall. It wasn't the only change that Mahal had to endure when it came to her body. It was subtle at first, but her wounds healed notably faster and she had more energy after heavy meals. Unfortunately, her appetite seems endless forcing her to adapt. Skipping meals made her irritable and weakened her focus, resulting in her being locked away in a tiny room.

Eventually Mahal resorted to drastic measures. She heavily seasoned bark or raw bone chunks, making the ususual materials easier to eat. These denser things lessen the hunger pains to tolerable levels. One of many efforts she discovered to aid her.

After their display of magic, her father summoned her. He informed them that they would attend Ersand’Enise Academy of Thaumaturgy. They had three years to prepare. Mahal's only purpose to be there was to support and keep her sister on track with her task. Any failure would result in her returning home to face the consequences.

Mahal hoped, foolishly, if she succeeded that she might finally earn his approval. A small, quieter part of her knew better.

Over the next three years, her father brought in private tutors for them both. The girls studied together while the teachers pushed Lunara's progress over hers. Naturally her sister thrived, but Mahal struggled with the Avinican language. When the day to depart Palapar finally arrived, their family came to see them off. While Lunara and her mother shared a tearful farewell, Mahal approached hers. After the pair embraced, Onaona gifted her with a small box. Within it was a small, blue kicker snail to always remind her of home. Mahal later named it Koha, or warrior.

Their first year at the academy proved to be a hard lesson in how differently their cultures worked. At first the girls struggled to fit in until they struck a balance. It was during this time, Mahal experienced true freedom. She discovered a love of combat and the adrenaline it brought. Sneaking out at night without Lunara also proved to be easier than it had been at home. For the first time, Mahal has started to wonder about her future and what it might mean.

M O T I V A T I O N

On the surface, Mahal's motivation for attending the academy was straightforward. Lunara needed a familiar face to ground her and ensure she kept on track with her goals. Nothing more or less. So far, she has had little trouble doing this.

On a deeper level, Mahal wants her father's approval. She believed by being successful , he might realize her worth and things become better. Some quiet part of her knows she's clinging too hard to this lie.

The first year of the academy filled her with new experiences, some good and bad. She had experienced a sense of freedom she never knew before. One free of her father's judgment and suffocating presence. She has a strong enjoyment of combat, both in practice and education.

I N V E N T O R Y

Money Mahal currently has about two hundred Magus to her name for personal use. However, she keeps various smaller coins on her up to the amount of two Magus at max.

Wardrobe Up to about six different dresses for various occasions and seasons, most of them picked out by Lunara. Some are even brought recently from the city, but many stem from Palapar. She also has accessories that are more tribal in nature than her half-sister. Earrings made from Goma cat teeth, one or two silver bangles, and necklaces made with decorative stones, shells, and even fur. She also has a few pairs of shoes suitable for the changing weather.

Box Koha's home is a decorative box coated with sap to preserve the walls, both inside and out. The dimensions are about ten inches wide, seventeen inches in length, and a foot deep. The contents within are as listed:
-one snail (Koha)
-two branches tilted for scaling
-one to two large rocks
-plate with any number of food ranging from worms to vegetables
-bowl of water

pet

Name: Koha
Sex: hermaphrodite
Species: Kicker Snail
Age: ~1 yrs (reaching maturity, max life in captivity 25 yrs)

Description: Koha's a pale blue snail with slightly translucent skin. The eyes upon his stalks are a dark black. Upon his back is a dark, earthy colored shell that ends in a point toward its tail. Several dots and shapes decorate the shell's surface thanks to stains of plant/mineral based dyes. Naturally, this changes based on Lunara's whims despite being Mahal's pet. Compared to others of his kind, Koha;’s size scales on the bigger side at about 5.08 cm (2 inches) in length from mouth to tail.

Character: Like many snails, Koha is slow and steady. He moves at his own pace and cares not for the world outside his own. His favorite pastime is inching along any lengthy branches, including Mahal's arm when offered. Though it will take some time. He definitely seems more animated whenever meal time comes around.

Abilities: Koha secretes a thin, transparent slime that coats its shell and body. When licked or consumed, it provides a mild hallucinate that lasts a good hour. Due to the coloring, the potency level is not toxic or lethal.

S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S

❖ Won't shy away from new experiences
❖ Basic knowledge and skills as a caretaker
❖ Athletic and physically tougher
❖ Palapar knowledge of native flora, fauna, and culture
❖ Basic first aid
❖ Martial arts knowledge and experience (learned when able)
❖ Innate and good sense of direction
❖ Healing time is cut by 1/2 to 1/4 time based on calorie intake (more effective when in state of rest)

W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S

❖ Takes things at full face value (Has low sense of humor)
❖ Claustrophobic
❖ Low self worth in her eyes
❖ Growing spitefulness toward Lunara’s privilege with their father
❖ Tends to have a resting bitch face (she rarely smiles)
❖ Due to her secondary mana, Mahal suffers from endless hunger pains. She is forced to eat either tougher organic materials (bark, animal teeth, etc) or up to at least twice her calorie requirements daily to function with snacks on hand. This is in the form of bark chunks, strongly seasoned, on a pouch hidden underneath her waist sash.

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

❖ Tattoos that decorate the back part of her body, from between the shoulders to her lower back, cover scars that stripe across the flesh.

The Hourglass Order

Cold Comfort: A Race Against Time

---

---

Character: Roslyn
Location: Small Island Fort

---

After surviving the last attack, Roslyn screamed. Another attack slipped past her defense. Her eyes widened as a dizziness hit her head. She fought the weakness surging into her fragile form. Her heart echoed in her head when suddenly another Volti appeared beside her. His hand reached out and touched her shoulder. From his fingertips, a frozen sensation spread down to her skin. Her flesh curled from it and blackened on the spot. She slapped it away, but the damage stayed. Her foot stepped back, knees buckling and her vision darkening. Her vision slowly faded as she was able to see the one armed illusionist take notice of her and then disappear.

Did I even make a difference? The question echoed in her head, over and over.

She laid there helpless while the scene raged on. Heavy wheezes poured from her chest, liquid collecting in the depths.The wetness of her own blood began to tingle at the back of her throat and choke her. Her dress had been torn and burned in place, the wounds stinging at the air exposure.

Lost in the darkness of a failing body, her mind reflected on her role in all of this.

The one that stuck out the strongest was during the route to the island fort. Esmii's keen eyesight saved them some trouble as she spotted a small group of Volti heading their way. With a deep breath and prayer, Roslyn ducked down the shadows of the alley. She peeked around the corner with the hand canon tightly in her hands.

None of the Volti notice her… yet.

She thought about the ethanol and how it stung. Applying her thoughts, she ignited her gifted weapon just when one of the men turned. As a thick smoke billowed out, she bolted back to the others.

She didn't dare stick around to admire the results of her work.

A tingling stretched across her skin. Wounds started to stitch together and mend, sealing the blood back. Her eyes fluttered open, but the exhaustion still pinned her down. A familiar voice spoke to her. Sven.

"Hang in there, Roshie one."

Roslyn inhaled, crusted blood at her lips. A weak smile crossed her lips as her form shivered. Words finally came to her mind, "I-I'm t-trying, but-t thi-thinking I should've stayed... fuck, at the academy..."

Sven struggled to hear her amid the crazed clash and the act of defending his life, but he can't help but agree.

From somewhere near him, another voice shouted out.

“You hang in there, you hear me!” Esmii.

"I'm t-trying, but-t..."Roslyn inhaled, her lungs seemed to inhale glass rather than air. She pulled herself half way upright, but no more, "I'm not much of a fighter. I'm sorry I let you down-"

Another thunderous explosion occurred, this time it had even shook the earth underneath them, yet what was worse was what stepped from it. A massive fireball had occurred, one that had consumed an entire building, and what stepped through was a single man holding up both of his hands.

Hard to ignore an entrance like that as Roslyn weakly turned in that direction. The Volti's arms snapped out picking two targets: Yuliya and Sven.

Dread filled Roslyn as she watched Sven's neck wrenched around. There was a great deal of pain on his face, his muscles and ligaments snapped, but his vertebrae held.

He slumped to the ground, close to unconsciousness.

She couldn't hear his words through the battle, but her eyes widened at what happened next. Sven rose, his hulking figure incandescent. Heat boiled off of him in colossal waves. His neck twisted back around, steam erupted from his nostrils. The very ground beneath him began to melt.

Like a mad beast, the once gentle Sven rushed forward. His arms reached for any nearby Volti to rend limb from limb.

Things seemed to turn until something else arrived. A wild blood. Upon its claw was a small, one legged woman. Penny. She wasn't moving as her attacker tossed the body aside. Her limp form somersaulted lazily through the air on its way towards the ground.

Then the wildblood hurtled towards Sven.

Sven dropped the mortally wounded Soldato to meet the wildblood in charge. Roslyn could barely register all the chaos around her. Allies rushed to help Penny, counter Volti, and Sven clashed with the new threat. Marz joined into the fray, the stocky man raising his hammer then connecting with the woman. He seemed to drive her back for the moment.

However, Roslyn lingered on Penny, now caught by Oksana. Guilt rolled into her heart at the sight. This was the second time she left her friend behind, but the last time she didn't go back. Why didn’t she go back? She did the first time and everything turned out right. Her breath held in her throat as she watched in fear. Oksana began to heal Penny, drawing energy and pouring into the body with binding. Suddenly Penny pulled in a deep breath and then let out a cough. She rolled onto her side, sniffing. She looked up to see Yvain and Oksana.

The woman’s lips moved before she reached up and kissed Oksana on the cheek in thanks.

All the tension in Roslyn’s form was released, thankful for her friend’s life. She made a weary note to apologize if they all managed to survive this. Right now, that didn’t look too good.

Roslyn forced herself upright and mustered the strength to reach for her med kit. She managed to slip her hand into the bag, pulling the rest of her bandages out. Tugging out the worst of the shrapnel, she pressed her hand to her mouth and muffled a scream. Her fingers then stuffed the cloth into the holes left behind. Using the adrenaline of her panic to her advantage, she continued to patch herself up.

Meanwhile the wildblood's voice rang out with fresh venom briefly catching her attention.

"For too long, we have run and hid from these monsters!" The thresher-beast proclaimed.

"For too long, they have stepped on the common people, fed upon them, and bled this land dry."

Roslyn had just finished when something caught her attention. A rapid movement as the Volti magusjaeger levitated at full speed across the river. Just when it seemed he might hit a small object...

The scene changed.

It was like she blinked and now a dark-haired Vossoriyan held the Volti by the throat, the head at an unnatural angle. The claw like fingers released the limp form causing it to fall and splash into the water below. Still floating in the air, his cold eyes sized up the fallen man's allies. He took out a pair of knives.

"You have five seconds to get out of my city."

Roslyn's skin crawled. Her breath held in her chest and her form froze in place. Something was off about this man. She couldn't explain it, but some instinctive part of her wanted to bolt. She fought the slight tremor surfacing on her form.

What now?!? She asked herself, frustrated with the reality of the worsen situation.

Hider

Item list
Active Effects
Stormin' Strawberry: just eating this will raise your mood. All weakening that you apply to enemies will be increased by two.
Heavenly Chocolate: just eating this will raise your mood. All strengthening in a scenario will be increased by two.
Glaring Vulture Jerky: Roll a d4 after each defense. If 4, gain a free counter if the defense was successful or damage reduced by two tiers if it was not.
Mana shot (given by Esmii)- Stayed down.

---

On person for the fight and between round care:
Makeshift first aid kit including
Binding bandages- x5: immediately seal and heal any wounds of minor tier or below. Are used up in the process.
Skinglue x2: from the Bleeding Pine, will instantly seal wounds if applied within one turn, reducing their tier by one.
Snowpepper sniffing powder x2: will instantly wake up any sleeping or unconscious character or beast.

The Hourglass Order

Cold Comfort

Character Development Scene

Aftermath: Pain with a Hint of Guilt.
Scene Timing: During Force’s post, when they took time to heal up.

Roslyn's ache began to numb, but her limbs were still heavy. She gritted her teeth as she fought past the sensation. She didn't even know what caused the most damage, the fight or the explosion. Not that it mattered in the end. Her hand flopped over her bag's cover and reached inside. The sound of glass clinking caught her attention.

She frowned at the odd noise, but Sven's shout caught her attention. Her eyes turned to the direction just in time to spot the man fall backwards. Upon hitting the ground, he let out a few laughs followed by crying. All of it seemingly because he was glad they had survived. Esmii, his Yasoi girlfriend, fell beside him while giving him an embrace.

A pang of longing hit Roslyn. Her expression softened and lingered on the pair.

Maybe one day I might have something like that, she thought.

Sven and Penny exchanged gestures and insults, their tone the casual play. Others swiftly joined in with their versions. The aftermath's tension lifted from the air. A question prodded her from the hidden crevices of her mind.

What about the boxes? Roslyn's frown returned, but for a different reason now.

Impulsively, her gaze studied the surroundings around her. The monastery's grounds, once plain and simple, lay in shambles. Pieces of rock buried deep in the ground while Helgeans rounded up the surviving false monks. Some broke down and others tried to flee, only for their prisoners to give chase.

Could we have... handled this better? Were we the best choice for this mission? Part of her mind whispered no, but her guilt echoed differently.

Lost in thoughts, Roslyn hadn't noticed the sound of footsteps approaching her.

While Esmii is hugging Sven and trying to find out if he is ok, she looks around to see if Roslyn was fine, worried about her new friend’s safety.
Roslyn, where are you, are you ok?

Just then, Esmii noticed Roslyn. From the expression that she had on her face, she looked very emotional or possibly hurt. Feeling a strong urge to help she tried to get to her. Esmii tried to get up off the floor, she was struggling, still feeling fatigued from the attack from that yanii assassin.

“Sven, could you help me stand please? I want to check on Roslyn.”she asked with a smile, hiding her exhaustion.

Sven wasn't sure at first, but he agreed helping his Esmii to stand up then she slowly limped. She almost slipped a few times, but regained her balance quickly and pushed forward making her way to Roslyn. As she got closer to her, she held her hands out in front of her. Upon reaching Roslyn, she sat down beside her and hugged her.

“Roslyn, is something wrong? Do you need me to heal you?”

Pulled from her daze, Roslyn's eyes widened when she felt the girl’s embrace. Her chest inhaled and her head turned to see Esmiis' worried expression. Words escaped her, unable to form the thoughts in her head properly. The most dominant sensation, numbness, washed away everything else.

"I-I'm sore. I've never been in actual combat before. Just sparred at the school..."

A shakiness edged into her voice as she closed her eyes. Roslyn let the soft breath inhale and fill her, anchoring her to the moment.

"Yeah, I think I'm okay, but I did get hurt. I have some bandages in my bag...give me a second."

Her hand reached into the bag. Something sharp sliced into her flesh causing her to jerk it back. Blood dripped down from the small cut on her finger, the pain throbbed slightly in the muscle.

"Shit, what?!?"

She glanced down and pulled open the small flap. Instantly, she spotted the shattered glass. Cautiously, her eyes traced the source to one of her bottles. The blue bottle had busted into many pieces. It rested against the inferno blanket now drenched in the strong liquid. She sighed then thumped her head against the wall's ruins.

Seeing Roslyn twitch in pain, Esmii guessed that Roslyn's hand was now cut from something in her bag. Going through her own satchel that's on the side of her waist. She pulls out a small medical kit. Placing it on her lap, begins rummaging through it, she pulls a small cloth from it. Taking Roslyn's hand she inspects the wound. Looks to be a minor cut, nothing too serious, so no magic was required. Esmii's nose twitched, an odor caught her attention, It was alcohol. Roslyn's hand smelled of it. At least the wound was disinfected. With ease, Esmii began to warp Roslyn's finger up in a bandage.

“I can smell alcohol on your hand. Did you have a bottle in your bag that broke?”

She asked Roslyn while wrapping the bandage. Once Roslyn was sorted, she went through her satchel once more, pulling another bit of cloth.

"Let's get the shards of glass out of your satchel so you don't cut yourself again."

"I don’t think just one broke... The potato vodka doesn't really have a smell, but the Blue Boomcherry Buster does. I should've known better than to bring them along, but..."

Roslyn released a breath at her idiocy. They didn’t exactly stop anywhere else before reaching the blacksmith.

Esmii took a small bit of cloth from her med pack. Using this, she tied it around on top of the bandage so the blood doesn't seep through.

“There we go. This should help. Also if you need to I can put some things in my bag.”

Esmii smiled and started to help Roslyn to empty her bag, sort out the broken bottle and pieces of glass, and helped her to sort out her things, to see if anything else was broken.

"Thanks. I didn't expect this task to turn into... well, this."

Esmii gave her a warm smile.“You're welcome, it’s no trouble.”

Roslyn cautiously dug through her bag and surveyed the damage. She gingerly plucked the shards out before passing them to Esmii. Once she took the last piece, she paused. Her eyes narrowed as she brought up an unharmed bottle of Blue Boomcherry Buster.

"Well, that's really lucky. We’re having a shot of this when we get back to the academy. Please hold that, I think the other two are just cracked."

Taking the bottle from Roslyn. She carefully places it down, not to break it.

“That's lucky a bottle survived, hopefully that is every bit that's broken.”

Once all the glass was emptied from the satchel. Esmii began folding the cloth on itself, covering the shards of glass so that no glass falls out onto the floor and causing an accident when the cloth is folded and the glass covered Esmii moves it to one side.

“So, apart from the cut on your finger, how are you feeling? You don't have to answer yet, if it is too difficult. I am here for you, whenever you need to talk.”

"Aside from a few nasty wounds, I'm okay physically. Mentally and emotionally, I'm... not sure how to explain it. Numb, maybe?"

Roslyn's voice cracked a bit before she turned to focus on the bag.

"Damn it, just like I thought. The other two bottles cracked."

She pulled each one out to show Esmii, unsure how to save the meager liquid left.

"The rest -aside from the soaked blanket- looks pretty good. Even the puffer chicken eggs."

Roslyn chuckled then pulled the makeshift first aid kit from her bag.

"I was worried this might’ve gotten soaked as well. It’s just the outside that’s damp."

She shifted it to the side while she lifted up her sleeve to reveal a shallow gnash beneath. It ran up the length of her forearm from midway to the elbow. It appeared to be fresher than others as she presented her arm to the healer.

"Ready?"

Esmii looked at Roslyn, she was angry. she asked her before, then looked at the gnash on her arm. Esmii wanted to shout at her, but refrained from doing so. Taking Roslyn's arm, placing it on her lap. She looked at the arm up and down, analyzing the wound. Bandages won't be able to heal this gash, it's going to have to be healed with Binding. She wasn't sure if she had the energy to fully heal it, but she had to try. Esmii started to draw, her hands hovering just over the wound as the cells in Roslyn's arm started to reattach themselves.

“WHY DIDN'T YOU SHOW ME THIS EARLIER.” Esmii let her emotions take over her Calm down Esmii, calm down. “Sorry I didn’t meant to shout”

When Esmii shouted, Roslyn jerked. However, her arm remained on Esmii’s leg. She stared at her friend as her words became unstuck in her throat.

"It's just a gash. I've had worse in the brewery. No point in getting worked up over it." Roslyn quietly answered.

“I got upset because it could of been worse, I'm sorry I let my emotions get the best of me”

"It's okay. And yes, it could've. But it's not. You don’t look so good yourself. I'm not really good with binding...but we can use the bandages."

Roslyn relaxed as she let the healer finish.

Slowly the gnash healed. Exhaustion was starting to set in for Esmii. But she pushed through it as she wanted to heal Roslyn properly, she didn’t want her to be in any pain or discomfort.

Come on Esmii, you can do this.

"Esmii, are you going to be alright? We can use the bandages, it's not an issue. Don't drain yourself."

Immediately, Roslyn's other hand rested on Esmii's shoulder. Her eyes narrowed in concern and pleaded for her to stop.

"It's all right. You're exhausted. I'm okay, really."

Esmii looked at Roslyn, with tears in her eyes, as she was trying to push herself.

“Ok Roslyn, I managed to stop the bleeding, but I think I'll stop and rest after I've cleaned the wound.”

Esmii started to feel really tired from her injuries, however she was starting to feel drained and if she had carried on longer she might have put herself at risk by pushing herself. She rested her head on Roslyn’s shoulder, and hugged her again.

“I'm sorry again for shouting, I'm just feeling really tired, and I think that I might have pushed myself too much.” Great now I feel like I’m hindering everyone

"Okay, just lean on me."

Roslyn gently wrapped Esmiis' arm on her shoulder. Watching her footing, she raised her right leg first and brought the taller woman up with her. The difference five inches made was ridiculous. With wide eyes and pursed lips, Roslyn managed to help Esmii to Sven who quickly aided her.

Mumbling a thanks, she released her grip. She flashed one last worried glance in her friend's direction and went to help the others.

Esmii notices that Roslyn is worried about her and feels bad.“Thank you Roslyn, I think of you as a good friend. I will be ok, I just need to rest a little.”


OOC: Omitted last bit.

The Hourglass Order

Cold Comfort

Location: Bunker→ Collapse (Blacksmith)→ St. Artyom

As the group walked down the stairs and toward the Bunker's exit, Roslyn fell in step with Emsii at the back. Being slightly tipsy and hungry, the brown haired girl began to dig into her things. She managed to bring up some of the creamery treats. They looked less than delightful, causing the girl to frown. Still she offered them up to anyone that wanted some.

After passing them over, she started on the stormin' strawberry herself. While juggling the reminder, her eyes brushed over the strange gift strapped to her side. A long iron tube fused into a stick end about the length of a small cane. Oksana called it a smoking bandit. According to the deaf girl, it could fill an entire battlefield with a burning substance. Trying to imagine it caused Roslyn's chest to tighten. She prayed that Ahn-Dami provided them with a choice to avoid any combat.

Her eyes flickered to her fellow students. Her companions seemed to have less hope of that possibility. She finished the last of the slightly pink cream then moved onto the heavenly chocolate. She wasn't nearly as fond of this one compared to the strawberry.

"I'm starting to wonder if I made the right decision staying to help..." She mumbled to herself, her inner doubts surfacing.

No point questioning her choices now, she realized. Her ears caught Sven, Penny, and Yuliya locked in a conversation over the church. Not liking the conflict in the group, she pushed past her timidness.

“Well, we know about that Blacksmith,” Rosyln recommended, finding her voice among the large group of semi-familiar people. “We could try that?”

The suggestion seemed well received. They rushed toward the collapsed part of town, but soon became side tracked. People, fed by dwindling hope, continued to search the wreckage. The group, either for personal want or empathy, stopped to help.

Roslyn split off with Esmii, Sven, and Oksana as the others went their own way. Each group started on the surface and worked their way downward. A few times, they had to pause to tend to their wounds. Esmii and Sven seemed the least graceful as they twisted or broke their limbs. If not for the hazy magic, Roslyn wasn't sure how they were going to mend the pair.

By the end of it, the small cautious group had found two of the townsfolk. Seeing the survivors return to their grateful families left her feeling better than before. Meanwhile, it turned out Penny, Yvain, and Yuliya had found Fat Yuri's daughter and also sent her back home. That left their final destination: the blacksmith shop.

They stepped up the Blacksmith's workshop and home, seeking out new leads. Yuliya, with her expertise of the language, began to translate. Roslyn found herself grateful to get past the language barrier. Her thoughts lingered back to the Hegelans they met in the tunnels. Naturally, her eyes began to wander across the shop to ignore her uselessness.

Her eyes caught sight of the small hegelan boy peeking out. Soundless, he ducked back out of sight and drew a soft chuckle from her. It made focusing on the conversation harder than it should've been. Once the conversation ended, a small bag of coins settled in the blacksmith's hands and she turned to them. It confirmed Penny’s suspicions were right. It seemed any answers they sought waited for them in the place they tried to avoid.

Roslyn let the others take the lead. They had been here the longest and suffered through this game of chase for answers longer than her. Instinctively, her eyes scanned the front of St. Artyom's.

Please, let this lead to answers.

Tension built up in her chest as she watched Yuliya step up and knock. The sound echoed in her ears, vibrating in her being. The exchange began when a red cap monk answered. Roslyn's eyes narrowed at the mention of the rescue attempt causing her lips to purse. Something about what he said felt off, but she didn't know why. Following the others inside, she managed not to jump when the doors closed behind them.

Idly, Roslyn continued to watch the exchange. Irritation evaporated the tension in Roslyn, but there was nothing she could do about it now. Quietly she stood alongside the others.

It didn't take long for things to spiral into trouble.

Of course mention of Esmii being called a knife-ear set her boyfriend off. Sven, gentlemen he was, stepped forward and sent a shockwave at the abbot. That didn't seem to matter because once the dust cleared...

The priest seemed unfazed.

‘Oh shit… what did I get myself into?!?’

Roslyn stared at the man who shrugged off the attack. Suddenly, her hand felt something pressed into her palm. Her eyes glanced down to spot a mana shot. Sensing someone looking at her, her eyes spotted Esmii's cheeky smile. It clicked in the brewery daughter's mind. Understanding flashed across her expression as she undid the cork and downed it. The glass fell from her gasp and shattered across the stone grounds.

A burning sensation swirled in her gut, her body uncertain about the odd liquor. In moments it settled. The boost flowed through her veins with fresh vigor. She prayed to the gods for strength. From her peripheral vision, she noted she wasn't the only one that downed one. Yuliya did too.

The abbot began casted first. His eyes narrowed on Penny and pointed his wand near her. A stupendous amount of energy swirled and collected at its tip, glowing white with the spell.

"Heavenly Lance!" He uttered, releasing it at her chest.

Seeing the threat rush at her friend, Roslyn didn't think. Her mana drew in the heat caused by the false abbot's spell and uttered a phrase beneath her breath. She jerked up her palm and released it into the lance. When her spell hit it, the energy spiraled across the shape. Spotting her effort's success at weakening it, Penny latched onto the colossal energy. The woman drew it away and ended its threat.

Roslyn flashed Penny a timid smile. The pride was short-lived. She spotted monks rushing to the aid of the abbot. Her eyes widened at the number as the courtyard erupted into chaos. Monks launched their spells at various students, including herself, forcing them to defend themselves.

Two monks in blue caps targeted her. They lifted the small chunks of stone then hurled them at her. Hoping to hurt their aim and get out of range, she drew in energy from the surroundings.

Gritting her teeth, Roslyn uttered.

"Light of Ahn-Shune."

A light flared in the monks' eyes while she rushed to the side, boosted by her kinetic magic. She wasn't fast enough. Both rock edges clipped her, one in the shoulder and the other in her back. Pain flooded her nerves.

"Shit."

A loud snap of wood made Roslyn's head swing to her left. Penny's crutch broke from a kinetic spell sending her toppling backwards. Meanwhile, Yuliya dissipated another spell from a red capped monk. The petite woman then countered with a shockwave forcing her attacker to retreat. She spotted Sven sloppily bat away several boulders, catching one on his shoulder. Blood wet his tunic as he grunted.

"We don't have to do thish violently."

"I agree with that. I don't want to hurt anyone." Roslyn join in, but both of their words fell on deaf ears.

Suddenly a black-capped monk appeared in front of the Eskandishman then vanished repeatedly. It all happened so fast that Roslyn barely caught it. Seven explosions popped off in Sven’s vicinity. Impulsively, Roslyn raised her arm to brace against it. She was in no immediate danger, but she couldn't help the reflex. Her eyes tightened against the dread filling her. She couldn't help him.

"Afraid to show your face?" came Sven's voice.

Her eyelids cracked open to see a familiar form walk out of the dust. His hand wiped off the blood from his shoulder.

Roslyn sighed in relief.

"Hey, watch this."

Penny's confidence caught Roslyn's attention. She hadn’t expected her friend to recover so fast from the fall. The one legged student balanced herself upright on one crutch.

"Shune, bless me with knowledge and perseverance," she prayed.

"Reshta, bless me with good fortune."

She turned to the nearest monk and shouted. "RUPTURE!"

Roslyn watched the man freeze in place. His face reddened and his eyes bulged. Hands reached up to grasp his head, the back arched, and a shriek roared from his mouth. Blood dripped from his nose and ears. Dark marks and red rashes spread across his body. The monk's final breath rattled from his throat before he crumbled into a heap.

No one could survive that, Roslyn thought. The image seared itself into her memory. She looked away, unable to stomach the sight.

During her distraction, another monk got close and reached out to touch her. Assuming he wanted to do a contact spell, Roslyn jerked her hand to her mouth. Her fingers made a ring. When she learned this spell, images of her being a dragon breathing fire rose to her imagination.

"Wyvern's Breath."

Fire erupted at the monk. Surprised by her shift from defense to offense, the attack grazed his head. He leapt backwards to avoid the worst of it. Once landed, he batted the minor flames away and smothered them with his hands. Witnessing her spell, one of his companions struck out.

No you don't! Roslyn thought as she screamed in the monk's direction.

"Drunken Hell!"

Anger at the situation, her helplessness, and more leapt into her core. It corrupted her imagery and twisted her intentions. She wanted him to leave her alone. The monk's skin drained of color, twisting into an ashy gray. His eyes glazed over as his feet stumbled. His breath became irregular and poorer with each second. His lips turned blue as white foam, saliva, gathered at his mouth corners. With a violent shudder, he collapsed.

Dead.

Roslyn stood there, rattled by the aftermath. She didn't see her fellow classmates dealing with the threat around her.

"I-I-I didn't mean..." She stepped back, but she had nowhere to run.

Seeing his ally killed, another mage uttered a spell. A boulder rocketed at her right side.

The sight snapped her back into the present. Roslyn spoke the first spell on her mind, "Arcane Lance."

During the hours of Oraff, she drew in more daylight. Her mana formed it into a bright, white cone shape then she flickered her hand forward at the stone. It struck the center, but didn't seem to stop it.

I didn’t mean to kill him... Roslyn's guilt surfaced as she found herself unable to move fast enough.

With almost inhuman speed, one of Khaliun's hired mercenaries rushed to help. He slashed his sword upward, cracking it on the rock's scorched spot. A low rumble broke into a thick fissure. The tails continued to spider web across the surface before crashing into the ground.

She had little time to breathe when a monk to her left launched another spell. Her insides curled and pain flooded her head. Roslyn's knee slammed into the ground. Her hands clutched her head as her vision blurred.

Roslyn used her chemical magic to counter with a spell.

"Blessing of Joy."

Endrophines overwhelmed the pain, drawing from the hurt and dampening it. Her hand pushed on her knee and forced herself upright. In the background, Sven and Oksana fend off a black-capped monk with a combined attack.

Roslyn started to notice the hints of heaviness in her limbs. She recalled the same ache when she danced for hours on end, but this was completely different. Her eyes closed and squeezed tightly for a moment. Letting the pause center her racing mind, she returned to the fight.

"Blessing of Vigor," she snapped her spell at Yuliya, buffing the woman.

Among the exchange of blows, Roslyn caught Sven’s pleas.

"Pleashe shurrender!" He begged, doing more than she could. "Ish thish really worth dying for!?"

She wondered the same thing, but her main focus was keeping her friends safe. It seemed the more they killed, the numbers stayed the same. The battle turned when the Abbot reached his limit.

"None of you understand! You fools! You saboteurs! We are trying to save our nation here!" His voice manic and eyes wild, he began to draw in energy.

A quiet hum turned into a roar. The vibrations shimmered and heated the air, condensing into a spot. Roslyn' wasn't the top of her class when it came to sensing magic, but even she could tell this was a powerful spell.

"If we die, you die with us!" He spat.

Then, from within one of the mountainside temples, another dull bomb echoed. Muffled voices and shouts followed it. In a last ditch effort, Roslyn tried to cast another Light of Ahn-Shune, but... nothing happened.

The magic was gone. Not that her efforts would've made much of a difference.

She spotted the Abbot's realization entering his gaze. On cue, the ignited spell amped up like a runaway snowball after breaking free of the man's control. Roslyn watched it gather more and more energy, the temperature gradually rising. The magic flipped on abruptly and someone compelled it away. The explosion's effects rumbled into the wilderness outside of the town.

Silence smothered Roslyn as she continued to witness the distant destruction. The pressure pressed against her form before a roar shattered it. A large puffy mushroom of smoke blooms on the horizon. With its presence, heat and light barreled toward them.

Roslyn's eyes squinted against the blinding light as they did their best to resist it. Combining her chemical and kinetic, she focused on aiding Penny with the wave coming at them. She focused on weakening the explosive reactions while draining the momentum. Soon the two girls managed to lessen the damage charging at them.

When the remaining force connected with Roslyn, her feet left the ground. It ripped her scream from her mouth as she was tossed into the air and crashed back into the courtyard. Debris of all kind whipped past her, slicing her arms and clothes. The powerful winds continued to skid her along until she hit a wall. Lungs expelled her breath upon impact. During it, she faintly recalled rolling onto her stomach. Arms reached up to shield her face and head from the slashing debris.

She hunkered down, praying, until everything died down.

Cautiously, she stirred. Her arms lowered causing a few stones to fall from her head. The dust started to settle as she scanned the remains of the monastery. A thick air settled into her chest, slicing into her lungs like glass. Ignoring her wheezing, Roslyn pushed herself onto her feet.

A dryness settled in her throat as she coughed, forced out words between them.

"Is everyone all right? Ahhh..." She coughed more, the movement rattling her chest. Her hand balled as it briefly covered her mouth.

"Oh, shit. I should’ve stayed at the Academy."

When Roslyn spotted movement, she jerked to face the source. Pain rippled across her worn neck muscles as she bite down a yell. Her hand jerked up and gently rubbed the soreness.

"Owww. That was stupid." The tension lessened when she noted the hegelans.

Slowly, she pressed her back against the scorched wall and slid down. She was grateful to be alive, but every part of her hurt beyond words.

---

OOC stuff

For upcoming fights
Active Effects
Stormin' Strawberry: just eating this will raise your mood. All weakening that you apply to enemies will be increased by two.
Heavenly Chocolate: just eating this will raise your mood. All strengthening in a scenario will be increased by two.
Glaring Vulture Jerky: Roll a d4 after each defense. If 4, gain a free counter if the defense was successful or damage reduced by two tiers if it was not.
Mana shot (given by Esmii)- Stayed down.

---

On person for the fight and between round care:
Makeshift first aid kit including
Binding bandages- x5: immediately seal and heal any wounds of minor tier or below. Are used up in the process.
Skinglue x2: from the Bleeding Pine, will instantly seal wounds if applied within one turn, reducing their tier by one.
Snowpepper sniffing powder x2: will instantly wake up any sleeping or unconscious character or beast.

The Hourglass Order

Hexcodes and the character connected to them.

---

PCS

Name Hexcode
Desmond Catulus ................gold
Dorothea Hohnstein..............#8882be
Trypano Somia...................Crimson
Ingrid Penderson................#86608E
Yalen Castel....................#FD5E53
Zarina Al-Nader.................#E5E4E2
Ayla Arslan.....................#009fff
Kaspar Elstrøm von Wentoft......#B8041A
Casii'fyret'alan................#6ecff6
Evander Fino Synesti............ #d4af37 metallic gold
............#BC3823 blood orange
............#CC5500 burnt orange
Ymiico'luun'yoru................ #3eb489
Yuliya Ilyanovich Vasilieva..... pink
Niallus Saberhagen.............. #3d5a88
Esmii’nesta’tawaar.............. #b08cc9
Valerian Remi Leclère...........#BDBDBD
Roslyn Wicke.................... #ebe7a3
Salomé Xiuyáng Solari........... steelblue

Player Secondaries

Name Hexcode
Isabella Lowell.................#a187be
Ashon'amar'loiyang..............#40E0D0
Maura Mercador..................#6f4a50
Abdel Varga.....................#9e0039
Fiske Flachstrauch..............#86608E
Cal'tuuro'jaros.................cyan
Tku.............................#734960
Qasem Laghmani..................#DDA0DD
Yvain de Berbignon..............#00e600
Marz Mohfolk....................#933A16
Taleja Drakenknecht.............#006633

Non Player Students

Name Hexcode
Marlijn Vaanse..................#D2691E
Penelope 'Penny' Pellegrin......#F7976A
Manfred Hohenfelter.............#2E8B57
Jomurr Ikon III.................#800080
Ismet'ych'lahiin'dichora........#6ecff6
Benedetto Corvi.................#00a99d
Jocasta Re......................#ffdead
Marceline Hohenfelter...........#598527 & Bolded
Sven Bjørnsson..................#385403
Oweyn Vaanse....................tba
Rikard Ambrus...................#a187be & #0072bc
Neki Kaureerah Wenhan...........#DEB887
Edyta Łaska.....................#6ecff6 & [color=#26522]#26522[/color]

The Hourglass Order

Cold Comfort

Location: the church

Roslyn ate very little that morning. As much as she tried, she couldn't stomach much. Nazih's dead, sightless corpse stared at her through vivid memories. All she could do was stand there. While the other students prepared his body, flashbacks of her mother's funeral surfaced. The pain from five years ago came rushing back. Her eyes closed. The lump in her throat suffocated any words she might say, leaving her to sink into the familiar numbness. It spread across her veins and weighed her in place. It was like an old friend from those times had returned to help her endure it.

Did this pain ever go away?

She knew the answer as it brushed her core now. Why did it have to be her to find him? Her thoughts chided fate and the gods with childish bitterness. Why? Her thoughts never reached the air as she stood in silence.

The memory scattered to the wind when Yuliya's words caught her attention. It took a moment for Roslyn to identify her location: the rear pews of Dami the Shrewd. While she had followed the others easily, she hadn't been paying much attention until now. It explained her brief disorientation as it faded. She didn't think the plan was going to happen the exact way they wanted, but she couldn't offer a better plan. She did feel the hairs on her neck rise when she saw how heavily armed some of them were. Needless to say, their trip toward the town's market was... uneventful until the gates. Then they had to relinquish any weapons to the guards.

Based on Yuliya's and Yvain's story, they had caused a bit of trouble with the locals. Another rotten feeling churned in her stomach at the difficulty added to their task.

Deep down, she hoped to find Marz then return to the academy safe and sound. She had finished her task already, leaving her useless now. As they moved past the guards, Roslyn's breath stilled in her throat. Her eyes kept tabs on the men's behavior until all of them had entered. Her eyes widened at the sight laid out before her. Shops clustered against the tower's wall, filled with various goods and trinkets. Some shopkeepers shouted to passing customers as they stood in the corner.

Even though she grew up in a decent town, she didn't know what to make of this set up. Before she could speak to anyone, the students scattered. Roslyn sighed as she hoped they didn't lose track of their primary goal.

---

Location: Blowback, second floor

Once she completed her shopping, Roslyn stashed her stuff safely with Sven. She promised him a bottle of beer next time her father sent her some. The girl immediately vanished in search of the local gossip hub. After some effort, one place's name kept surfacing: The Blowback.

It was a local club where the townsfolk hung out and relaxed. Recalling her grandfather's warning, she sought out someone to go with her. In her head, she ticked past the available candidates among her group. Yuliya and Yvain were out due to their prior hostilities. Sven kept her stuff safe. Khaliun and Esmii were nowhere to be seen. Feeling her options dwindle, Roslyn spotted Penny coming out of one of the shops.

It didn't take much to convince her to come along. Quickly, both girls darted off to the bar and fell into the shrinking line leading to the door. Each paid their entrance fee as they disappeared into the club.

Beyond the door, a wall of tobacco, bakeleaf, and shisha hit Roslyn's nostrils. A dizziness stirred in the back of her head. Shaking past it, she kept moving and followed Penny's wake to the bar. The haze drifted about the dancing bodies on the floor. Their movements filled with a drunken care-free energy. Roslyn's envy stirred, but she pushed herself to focus on finding Marz.

The girls arrived at the barkeep.

A young man stood behind the counter. He poured out the golden liquid into a glass. Once it neared the rim, he slid it down the table's length and into a waiting customer's hands. His attention turned to Penny. Her request for a booth rose above the clash of music and conversation.

Nodding, he took the money before guiding them to the first free booth. Relieved to rest her feet, Roslyn lowered down into the seat. All the walking had started to take its toll as she discreetly rubbed her calf through her skirt. Despite how much she wanted to end this mission, collecting information required time.

Time they didn't have if Marz was still alive.

Penny suggested speeding it up by purchasing drinks to gain attention. They split the cost. A short time later, men began to break off from their seats and approach them.

Before Roslyn could dismiss them, Penny invited them to stay and they accepted the offer. Forced to bite her tongue, Roslyn endured in silence and defeat. She put on a smile that didn't reflect in her eyes. The subtle flirting went over her head, but Penny caught their compliments. Conversation turned to her boyfriend, Ashon, across the sea. Her words made it clear she wasn't interested in anyone else. Left disappointed, the men departed and returned to the bar. Relieved to not have to suffer through the men's hungry stares, Roslyn’s mind debated on entering the dance floor and seeking out information there. She leaned her chin on her hand.

Mistaking her look for boredom, a burly older Vossoriyan meandered over. He gave a polite bow then spoke in semi-decent Avincian. Roslyn could tell he still struggled with it as he introduced himself.

"Hello, name is Dmitry." A thick tone entered his words.

Roslyn spotted the hint of gold beneath his shirt collar when his form slid into the empty seat. If his clothes didn't betray he was someone important, the decoration did. Taking a chance, she slipped into casual chatter. She began to touch on alcohol, noticing his smile brighten and his own questions turned upon her.

"Let us see how much you can drink."

"Excuse me?" Roslyn asked, her right eyebrow raised.

"I watch you. You drink about half that bottle, but it is weak stuff. Can you handle good vodka?" He boasted, summoning the barkeeper to the booth to order something.

"I'll admit, it's not Firetail whiskey... but I've had worse.

The man scoffed. Moments later, the barkeep came back with a large order of clear liquor and two shot glasses. Gripping the bottle by the neck, he popped off the top. He smoothly filled each shot. One shoved at her while he gripped the other.

"Ready?"

Roslyn held up the glass and studied the 'water' within it. It sloshed with a faint heat from the top. I hope I don't regret this, she thought.

"Yeah, on three. One...two... three."

After the last word, both of them tossed back the vodka. Roslyn didn't expect the burn that followed. Her eyes widened and the burning sensation rose in the back of her throat. When the liquid disappeared, forced down by her swallow, the girl erupted into a small coughing fit. Her ears caught Dmitry's deep belly laughs at her surprise.

"I warned you, da?" His sentence slipped into Vossoyian at the last word.

Once the choking had faded, Roslyn nodded. "I didn't expect the burn immediately."

"That is sign of good vodka. Burns on the way down before you know it."

Seeing her collect herself, Dmitry smirked.

"Give up?"

Roslyn shook her head.

"Let's keep going. About seven more rounds? We'll see who can last the longest." It was a bold suggestion, but she had grown up on strong stuff and knew her limits. She could do this.

"Yes. Ready? One...two...three!"

~*******~

The rounds flew by in rapid succession, each better than the last. Roslyn banged down the shot glass when she finished the last one. She mumbled something in her native tongue. Her mind buzzed with the intoxication taking grip in her head and threatening to bring her down. It didn't help that her stomach lacked food to buffer it. Her dull eyes took in Dmitry's condition. The man's form wobbled, but held firmly in the seat.

"Another round?" Roslyn held back a hiccup as she waited.

The man shook his head, his hand raised in surrender. "No, no more. Should know better. You mercenaries are big drinkers."

A soft gas bubble escaped his lips causing him to tap his fist against his chest. He didn't notice Roslyn flash him a confused look at his assumption.

"You know, since you’re in this business, I share information. The blacksmith needs someone for a job. Name is Vladimir. You go to him."

Edging past the part of complicated thinking, Roslyn didn't correct him.

"I am new to town. Where do I find him?

He took a moment to process before replying.

"Near the collapse. You..." He blinked and settled deeper into the chair.

"You hurry. You are not alone in town. A pair of masked men showed up before you. They might be Volti, not sure."

"Can you tell me more about this job? Any details?"

Dmitry narrowed his eyes upon her. His lips thinned out into a line, the debate strong in his expression. Moments ticked by before his eye shifted to the bar. Roslyn followed his gaze. Penny stood by the bar now and was seemingly harassed by two men. She started to rise only to have Dmitry warn her against it.

"Stay in seat."

Surprised by Dmitry's statement, she fell back into her seat. She noticed the men turn and look back at him. A silent understanding passed before Dmitry spoke in Vossoriyan, his tone clearly displeased. Swiftly they moved to the exit like dogs with their tails tucked between their legs. The sounds of his form awkwardly rising caught her attention.
Her eyes snapped to him.

"W-wait." Her words stumbled out as Penny returned to their booth.

Dmitry studied her, pausing in his movement.

In a sloppy attempt, Roslyn tried to bribe him. She slipped out a sizable amount of coin within his line of sight and continued.

"Are you sure... you don't know more?"

The man shook his head, clearly uneasy. Spotting her struggle, Penny wandered into his path, ‘accidentally’ bumping into him. “Well that’s disappointing,” she pouted, stumbling backwards “My friend was really hoping for more.”

She reached into her coinpurse and rolled a few ten-ouble coins between her fingers. Outside, she could see Sven approaching, with Yvain and a couple of others. Her eyes pointedly wandered their way.

“So were our other friends. We’re all going to be working in this town for a little while.” It was perfect timing, really, and she was quick to leverage it. Penny smiled sweetly, hand brushing his chest and fingers momentarily hooking the golden chain.

“And we’d love to get off on the right foot. You sure you don’t know anything else?” Roslyn’s mind barely registered the threat through the fog in her brain as Dmitry’s large frame tensed. He licked his lips in response.

"I think... something about missing Hegelans. Now, please… excuse me."

Penny slipped some cash into his shirt pocket and stepped out of the way. Roslyn watched him until he disappeared behind the other two. Needing to keep her emotions steady as her remaining peers approached, she poured herself one last shot and let the sensation dull her stress.

The Hourglass Order

So, I'm noticing that we've been doing a lot of discord lately and not too much on the forum aside from updates. I'd like to know how people feel about this: should we keep going this route in the future mostly with GM and Co-GM posts, or try to move more things back to the forum?

@Force and Fury

In my mind (coming from a person who tends to do forum base mostly), both have their pros and cons. Here’s a few that come immediately to mind and should be considered in order to determine which is best for each case.

Discord
Pros
-great for rolls
-fast and immediate fact checking
-collabs in a big or small groups

Cons
-hard to get everyone on the same time zone to be online at the same time
-text limitations and only edited by that specific person if needs to be corrected
-If multiple scenes in the same mission happen, you’re force to search for what’s your scene specifically and that is tedious

Forum
Pros
-easy record of what happened and searching for the information
-more turn base and less restricted by time zones

Cons
-unless the GM or individual is easy to get a hold of, makes fact checking over any confusion take longer
-rolls likely still need to be done on discord regardless.

---

For me personally, I like a mix of things depending on the scene and the needs for the IC. This includes discord, google docs, and maybe some forum posting. I will note usually when I work on discord with someone, I tend to have a google doc or something that we can write in as we’re playing the scene out. This also makes putting in coding so much easier because we can do as we're writing. I just forgot it last time since each rp can have its own way of doing things. I also find this can work well with individuals of different time zones. Personally, I think leaning more into the forum might be a good idea especially for individuals who have less flexible schedules, but still allow for discord when possible especially for collabs.

The Hourglass Order

Cold Comfort

Location: Kirimansk, Vossoriya
Present: Rosyln, Penny @Force and Fury, and Khaliun @YummyYummy

---

The small group had gathered at the small church in the blue quarter.

Among them, Roslyn watched as the students divided into smaller groups. Already, each one had their own tasks in mind, leaving her uncertain. Her hazel eyes darted about and watched them depart, noticing their general direction. The whole time she kept near the first student who’d recognized her. She pondered her options, her head held down and in thought. Movement caught her attention from the corner of her vision, causing her head to raise.

Penny started moving south. She glanced behind herself. "You come or you don't, but I think we're near the edge," she announced.

Meanwhile Khaliun shadowed the one-legged teen, keen on not actually entering the field. This forced Roslyn's hand as she followed them with a quick step to catch up. She pulled out the map of the area she had received and a chiseled down piece of coal. She hoped to note down the state of magic in each area.

As they continued along the eastern side of the church, their magic seemed to grow in strength. Khaliun no longer strained to keep aloft, causing Roslyn to jot down notes. The last of the haziness faded as they moved down to the southeast corner. There a wall loomed in their path and blocked them from progress.

Penny glanced up at the wall, feeling magic surging through her again. "I say we jump it," she recommended, glancing at the other two.

Roslyn's gaze rose to measure the wall in her mind. Securing the map and her coal piece in her dress pocket, she nodded in agreement. She readied to follow Penny despite the hesitation in her core. As they managed to scale the wall, Roslyn's shoe slipped. She reeled back just when Penny's arm snapped out and grasped her. The one legged student gritted then jerked her the rest of the way onto the wall.

"Thanks," Roslyn panted as she caught her breath.

Little did she know, this was only one of a number of obstacles they had to overcome during their mission. Their path took them across the river, another cliff side, and onto the terrain outside the walls, following the edge of the anti-magic zone. Once they reached the corner of the city walls on the opposite side, the familiar gently circular pattern ended abruptly. It curved outward rather than in, creating a sharp corner rather than a continuation of the expected gentle curve.

From here, the students split. Roslyn walked closely to the wall and followed it, casting a small bit of magic to gauge where the fade began and where it extinguished. After a bit of travel, she couldn't cast anything.

Penny, juggling the map and coal with her crutch, continued to map out the border. Behind her, Khaliun rose into the air and got a sense of how high the effect went. Seeing the speck of the student high above them, Roslyn decided to regroup with Penny. She suspected trying to match Khaliun's height would've churned her stomach. No one needed to see her last meal again.

Their new course led them to yet another steep cliff. As they considered their options, Roslyn glanced downward. She noted the building jutting out and a stairwell carved into the rocks. Below them, numerous bodies milled around the ground. Based on what her map showed, they had stumbled upon the monastery where the monks of St. Artyom dwelled. It only took a brief glance when both girls decided what to do. With the magic still null, they started their descent.

With decent grace, Roslyn trailed down the rocky terrain and dipped into the building. None of the monks below seemed to notice her. Her mousy form peeked out as she watched Penny follow after. Everything seemed to move smoothly until Roslyn spotted her classmate slip. As Penny began to slide downward, her arm shot out and grabbed the girl’s malformed hand. Using her vice-like grip, Roslyn pulled back. She jerked her partner inside. Both students collapsed into a heap, panting heavily.

Penny thanked her, rattled by the misfortune. "That was too close for comfort. Let’s try to be more careful, okay?"

Their eyes spotted the pathway leading deeper into the cliff.

Roslyn inhaled, pulling upright, and dusted herself off. She moved toward it and saw stairs leading down a faintly lit hallway. Gradually, they both followed it down. Shadows of figures darted across the walls as they jumped from one hiding spot to another, their eyes watchful and paranoid, managing to stay out of sight. The tunnel twisted into a labyrinth the deeper they went.

Strangely, the magic here flexed between present and absent despite what they had learned. Finally, the pair came across five odd doors. Each had certain features that stuck out to Roslyn as her eyes shifted from each one.

The first door had red stained words carved into it, but neither girl knew what it said. The second door was smaller than the first. The third one was large, with grooves in the floor. The fourth one was old and worn, with religious inscriptions on a plague. Finally, the fifth door held words in blue.

Roslyn had reached for the first and cautiously cracked it open. Words shouted from farther down causing her to shut it. In a panic, she slipped into the second one just as the first opened. Scared they might follow her inside, the girl ducked farther down the hallway. Her eyes watched it for several moments, but nothing came. It was then that Roslyn realized she had lost Penny. With held breath, she carefully edged back the way she came. Her hand reached out to touch the door knob that suddenly began to jiggle. The girl froze on the spot, her eyes wide with horror.

A muffled sound echoed behind causing it to stop. Footsteps moved away and down the hallway. Breathing in relief, Roslyn exited and vanished into the darkness.

Both Penny and Roslyn wandered around for quite a while after that. Magic reappeared, disappeared, and reappeared again and they somehow managed to evade capture. The deeper areas remained very much off-limits, however, being quite heavily occupied. Finally, the two girls ran into each other.

"Oh thank Shune!" Penny breathed. "Where did you go? I thought they'd nabbed you!" She was quite out of breath.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were right behind me," Roslyn said, her voice squeaking slightly. Taking a moment to calm her racing heart, she continued. "I fled into one of the doors. I nearly thought I was going to get caught once as magic seemed to come back, and then disappear. I don't know what is going on."

Penny nodded. "Merde. Me too. Big door. It was... some sort of... natural cave. There were people in there. When the magic came back on, I sensed them." She furrowed her brow. "Hegelans, I think." She cast about. The magic was currently back, but Penny did not like this uncertainty. "We get to the bottom of this now or come back later? If we can sense them, then..." she trailed off, leaving the rest implied.

Roslyn's inner curiosity warred with her common sense. Naturally, the prior won in the end. With a deep breath, she spoke with all the strength she could muster. "We leave now, we might never find out what is going on. The fact magic can stop working is rather frightening. I don't know about you, but I couldn't sleep knowing there's something here like that. Let's go, and I promise I won't leave you behind this time."

Penny inhaled, held it, clenching and unclenching her fists nervously around the grips of her crutches, and let it out. "Okay. Illusion all the way, hide ourselves, but let's try to be stealthy, even without." She started moving, but paused and twisted halfway around. "Wait - which door?"

Roslyn paused, thinking a bit. She gestured for Penny to follow, "I think I recall the way. Come on."

As she walked, she whispered what she knew. "I came to a hallway with five doors. I originally tried to go through the one with blue words, but someone shouted and I hid in the smaller one. I haven't investigated far though."

As the girls continued along, silence swirled uncomfortably around them. Penny had been the first to break it. She shot a glance back in her acquaintance/friend's direction, not strictly speaking seeing her. "So," she whispered. "I'll admit to being a bit surprised. What... brings you here? Was it the Zenith or Arch-Zeno Harrachora?"

Roslyn gave a slight smile. "After you all left, Jocasta came to me and mentioned something about misinformation. Something about a crate and it needs to be opened. I will admit, I'm rather surprised to be sent."

Penny fell strangely silent for a moment. She'd received... unique instructions of her own. "We all have something to offer," the one-legged girl responded with a shrug.

"It doesn't feel like it in my case," Roslyn admitted, her voice telling more than she wanted. She didn't see herself being much use especially with the magic not being consistent.

Then, they were upon the doors. As people walked by, they remained cloaked in the interior dimness, bending light around themselves to keep unseen.

"Which door?" Penny whispered when there was a small gap, and Roslyn discreetly pointed to the smallest. "That one.

"They'll notice if we don't time this just right, unless..." Penny hmmed. "Leave the illusion to me."

Catching what Penny said, Roslyn looked toward her ally and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What are you planning?"

"I'll need every bit of my focus," said Penny determinedly. "I'm gonna make it look like that door never opened at all while we go through." She smiled ruefully, but there was some mischief to it. "Of course, if I screw this up..."

"That might work. I can try to help. If they do spot me... I can always take off. If they are chasing me, you can sneak in there. I might be able to lose them and I can try to follow afterwards." Roslyn tried to hide the slight waver in her voice over the idea. She wasn't keen on getting caught, but they had to learn what was happening.

Penny blinked. "Right. Let's go."

They waited until there was a break. Roslyn rushed forward and pushed the door open, gesturing for Penny to follow. The door clicked closed behind them and they found themselves back in the hallway. It was… normal sized, but most of the doorknobs… That was it! Each door’s knob was lower than normal.

It was a strange thing to notice, and Penny almost missed it, but she glanced at her partner in crime. "Why are they so low?" she whispered.

Catching what was said, Roslyn turned her head to examine the knobs. Her eyes narrowed in confusion, "I don't know... Can we try and open one? Just a crack to see what's beyond them."

Penny reached out with her energetic sense, scanning beyond. She could not be sure of the exact positions of all the walls and doors, but there were people close to the nearest one, and all that needed to happen in order for she and Roslyn to be found was for someone to open it. Down the hallway was one that seemed empty. She emerged from the shadows for a moment and silently pointed at it, setting words to action and starting to make her way over.

It was at that moment that a hand seized the doorknob they had just stood in front of moments earlier and turned it.

Roslyn caught the gist of Penny's meaning as she nodded, rushing in her friend's wake. Her breath held in her chest until her lungs stung. She caught the sound of the door clicking open just when the door closed behind them. Roslyn jerked when she heard the soft thump echo, betraying their presence. She hadn't been able to stop as the last person inside.

Foreign voices spoke in the hallway, rattling on fluently and rapidly. It didn't sound like Vossoriyan. This fact didn't bring Roslyn any comfort. Her eyes scanned the room for a place to hide. It appeared to be a pantry, full of simple cooking supplies. Roslyn's beating heart drowned out nearly all sound. Her fear over being discovered stifled her common sense.

"I am a bag of flour," Penny whispered. "Be the flour. Channel the flour."

Despite her better judgment, Roslyn closed her eyes and a barrel popped into her mind.

"Behind me!" the Perrenchwoman hissed, as footsteps drew near.

Roslyn struggled to make her body obey.

"Move, barrel!"

The door opened and the golden-orange spread of a lantern's light wavered across the contents inside. A voice spoke in a harsh accent, but they did not understand a shred of it. Penny pulled her knee to her chest and remained as still and silent as humanly possible. Roslyn just froze like a deer caught in the lights. There was a second voice and the light continued to shine down on them. A few of the unfamiliar words repeated themselves.

Penny blinked and tried to focus on them.

One of the voices spoke in words they could understand. "You, girl."

'I'm caught...' Roslyn thought and braced for whatever came next. A subtle tremble rippled across her form, dreading the worst. The pair started to chatter between themselves, amusement filling their tones.

"You very bad hide."

"One girl very bad."

"Two girl little bad."

Penny started. She looked up. Roslyn remained frozen like a deer in a hunter's sights.

The best speaker of the two continued. "You lucky we see you. No Vossoriyan."

Penny began to gather her energy, and she shielded her eyes. The speakers were hegelan.

"Calm, girl. Okay. We no tell." One reassured them.

Roslyn's mind fell out of its petrified state. She blinked and then crunched her eyes at the pair standing in front of her. She was speechless for a moment. She didn't know what to say to the drastically different scene happening from what she expected. Mustering up the courage, her form relaxed and she faced the two. "Uhh, w-why?" Roslyn managed to spit her words out, though rather softly. She couldn't believe their luck.

The pair had strange bindings around their wrists and ankles. They looked at Roslyn when she spoke. "Why? Hah!" barked the one who spoke a language that they knew.

"Fuck Vossoriyan." He shook his head. "Now... why you here?"

Penny glanced at her friend who'd had the courage to speak.

"I wandered down here. I got curious." Roslyn's eyes finally noticed the strange bindings on their wrists and ankles, "Why are you here? And what are those?" Her finger pointed to the strange things.

"V...vander?" questioned the hegelan. The two of them glanced between each other and conferred in quick, low voices. "You want know what here?" he asked.

Penny nodded vigorously. She spoke slowly and simply. "Yes. We want to know. We think it stops the magic."

The one hegelan translated for the other. Then, there were further footsteps down the hall, and a voice addressed someone in Vossoriyan and not the hegelans' strange language. Roslyn tensed, her calm now gone again, when she heard it. Her eyes widened and glanced wearisomely at Penny.

"It bad. We work. We do bad. This..." he struggled for a word, unable to find it, and then rapidly closed the door in their faces.

A tense few seconds passed. Then, there was an exchange outside. It was mostly in what sounded like Vossoriyan, but some seemed to be in the hegelans' language. It ended with some barked words from the unfamiliar voice, and subservient ones from the hegelans. Penny held her breath. Roslyn bit her lip, her fingers clenching her dress in anticipation for whatever came next. Her eyes pinned on the door with dread. The doorknob rattled for a moment.There were more words.They could practically feel the hand resting on it.

Then, Penny snapped.

In one smooth motion, she rose, grabbed the door handle, and pushed it open.

"Don't-" Roslyn's voice squeaked, but it was too late. The man on the other side was half-dressed as one of those monks, but he did not have either the look or the demeanour of a religious man.

Penny heard Roslyn, but it was too late to turn back now. She'd never been much of a healer anyhow. Some were Eshiran's promised. She slammed the door into him and he stumbled back. The first thing that she did was warp the sound itself, forming an anti-sonic bubble. She leapt out wordlessly as he staggered back, falling on his rear.

"Roslyn," she said with surprising calm, "get out of here now. Make your escape." She turned back to face the monk. "I'll handle this."

Roslyn's hands leapt to cover her mouth. She was surprised at Penny's reaction as she heard the woman's statement. Worry, fear, and adrenaline surged through her veins, causing her feet to move. Deep down, she knew in a fight she was dead weight.

"Okay... don't get hurt, please." Her voice cracked with shame as she darted past and back down the same path they had come from.

Penny faced the man. The two hegelans rushed in towards her. "No hurt!" said the one who could speak some Avincian. "No hurt!" he insisted, and she whirled.

"Is... is he your friend?" He hadn't seemed like a friend to these people.

The hegelan shook his head as the monk rose, rubbing at his head. He began to draw energy.

"No. Not friend. You hurt he, we hurt. Under stand?"

Penny stalked forward, drawing and casting. "Roslyn!" she called. "Roslyn, I need you."

Hearing Penny's holler behind her, Roslyn's heels dug in. She skidded to a stop and glanced back. Ignoring the slight sting budding in her legs, she flipped about and rushed to her ally's side.

Penny's telekinetic shove hurled the monk into the stone wall opposite with significant violence, and the man crumpled to the ground, leaving a bloody streak behind him.

"You're a chemical mage," she said matter-of-factly, as she began binding the head wound. "He's only unconscious." She worked on him some more. "I think."

Struggling to keep her calm, Roslyn nodded. She focused on the blood, turning its chemical make up into pure water. The clear liquid dripped from the wall and vanished into the floor. Upon hearing the questionable statement about the man's condition, she stepped closer and leaned down. Her fingers pressed to the area of the pulse. A bit faint, but gradually getting stronger. "He'll be alright. I've seen workers who got heavier bashes than him." She reassured her friend.

"Broke a bit more than I meant to," Penny admitted. "I panicked. Dammit." She shook her head and focused. "But yes, I can fix him." It took the better part of a minute until her work was done, and it fell to Roslyn to placate the two panicking hegelans.

Roslyn immediately turned to them, noticing their rapid and uneased chatter. It didn't take a genius to know they were upset. "It is okay. Did any of you get hurt?" Her eyes shot over their forms, looking for any injuries between them.

"No we!" one of the hegelans practically shouted, voice high and strained. They both pointed. "He! He hurt. They hurt we!"

"Okay, we are not going to hurt him. We will figure this out." Her hands rose in front of her and gave a lowering gesture, hoping to get them to calm down. Even if it didn’t work for them, it helped her own nerves.

Penny was finished with the healing, meanwhile, and she flagged Roslyn over, glancing as much evaluatively as apologetically at the pair who'd helped them. The Hendlishwoman started to pull away, departing with one last instruction: “Keep an eye out for more people.” Roslyn hoped that giving them a task might help distract them as she came over.

"Now here's the tricky part," the Perrenchwoman advised, as her partner arrived. "You're better with Chem than I am. I need you to go into his head and...rearrange a few things with Gaze of Confusion. We need him to forget we were ever here." She paused as an idea seemed to come to her. "And... can you fake the chemical symptoms of drunkenness?"

Roslyn’s eyes narrowed, recalling the lessons. A wily smirk crossed her lips, "So how hard? Something light like ale or something harder? Firetail Whisky tends to be an ass kicker."

"Vodka," said Penny, "So yes. That sounds about right." She propped the monk against the wall and let her partner in crime work.

Roslyn inhaled then focused on her drawing and casting. She knew the finer details of what caused a drunken state as she boosted certain chemistry in the man’s body. Once finished, Roslyn turned to the men. "You mentioned if he hurt, you hurt. How does that work? What causes it?"

They blinked, confused. "Yes. He hurt. We hurt. They hurt we." They did not seem to understand some of the words she had used.

"We have to move him," Penny advised, "now."

"Yes!" one of the hegelans replied. "Move him now!"

Roslyn bit her lip, trying to figure out a better way to ask. However, before she could, Penny interrupted her thoughts. All questions escaped her as she nodded. She moved and opened the door to the supply room. With a beckoning wave, she indicated to the hegelans to put the monk inside. "If we put him in here, it keeps him out of sight and might be more convincing."

The hegelans looked at her skeptically.

"In there?" the one who spoke Avincian asked.

They glanced towards the other room they had come from. "He drink." It was accompanied by a gesture.

The second one nodded and pointed towards that room's door. "He drink there!"

"Yes." She frowned, not fully understanding.

"We can't take him there," Penny said. She flexed and was actually kind of muscular. "Not strong," she clarified. "Can't lift." She mimicked the act of it.

The hegelans glanced at each other. "This," they insisted, pointing at the door down the hallway. "Big room. All people drink there."

Roslyn sighed, shaking her head. Realizing this wasn't working, she moved from the door. "Penny, can you hold the door open? This isn't working and we're wasting time."

Penny arched an eyebrow. She drew a bit of energy and telekinetically lifted the man from the ground. "Forgot we could do this?" she teased, voice still just above a whisper.

The hegelans looked uneasy. They shook their heads. "No," said the one who did not speak Avincian. "No. This is bad. They know." He pointed again at the other room. "This better."

Regardless, the unconscious monk was lifted and dumped into the closet. The door was closed behind him.

"To be fair, I just started to learn most of my magic last year... I tend to mainly use it for the brewery." Roslyn countered quietly back.

The two small men spoke rapidly in their strange language and their eyes darted warily up and down the hall. Somewhere around a distant bend, a door closed. "You go!" one insisted. "You go now!" They pointed urgently up the way that the women had come from.

Whatever Penny might've said back was cut off by the sudden urgency. Pulling from the heat somewhere deep behind and beneath her, further into this complex, she boosted her movement speed, almost gliding as she ran-hopped. "Rose, unless you wanna help me bust more heads..."

"I'm afraid to say, I can't fight at all. I'm more likely to freeze up again..." Roslyn already felt her fear coming to choke her again, her feet slowly backing up and her form twisting.

She took off like a thunderbolt, plenty fast but loud. Her illusion abruptly dropped in her wake. It was up to Penny, who'd been party to at least a few such scrapes previously, to cover for the both of them. Unsurprisingly, the one-legged woman lagged behind, but the two hegelans were still in the hallway. When the red-capped monk noticed them, he began issuing orders and they scrambled to carry those out.

There were cheek-clenching moments along the way, but they made it through the door they had entered from, and then the hallway that led towards the exit. During their escape, the entire complex seemed a hive of activity. As they looked upon the scene below, two escape options stood out to the girls: the particular structure of a long and winding staircase down the cliff face, or a magically-enhanced leap.

Penny glanced behind her. "We jump. Come on."

"Okay, though I don't like this idea..." Roslyn piped up as she readied her magic.

Penny had to glance the other way to roll her eyes, out of politeness. No time to sync up their jumps, they launched off the edge and into the ground below. Penny hit first, followed by Roslyn. A sound of rushing footsteps drew the latter student's attention. Her hazel eyes darted to the narrow staircase. She spotted a cluster of monks rushing up it.The idea of their near discovery caused her to shudder before she quickly caught up to Penny.

The Perrenchwoman had made it to a tree and hid behind there, sitting on a low hanging branch and letting her illusions fall for a moment. "See?" she chirped, "I told you we could do it!"

Roslyn gave a smile, her skin a paler color."I'm glad, but that was a close one."

From out here, aside from the unusually high number of monks, it looked like a fairly normal monastery. They shuffled about on their daily errands, and some made time for their devotions. There was not much of note to see... and that only pricked Penny's sense of danger even more. She reached for the energies around her, of which there were clearly many and then...

She couldn't feel them.

The magic, once more, was gone, and they were stranded inside this place's walls without it. Also no longer sensing anything, Roslyn's concern returned. Their situation looked more dire than before. Before she could speak, however, sounds of a fight rose in the distance, and then rushing footsteps.

"Roslyn!" called Penny, peering out from cover, "It's now or never!"

Roslyn cursed in Hendlish beneath her breath.

All the monks seemed too distracted to notice them as they skulked forward. Their forms remained low to the ground while they moved. They wove through the trees and around the outbuildings for what seemed like forever. In reality, it was only ten minutes. When the moment came, Roslyn's legs curled beneath and then snapped herself forward. Feet slammed hard into the ground sending her sprinting into a flat out run. All her thoughts focused on getting away as the two fled from the monastery.