Legion02

Godfall - The Emergence [Dead]

@Lord Zee Honestly it's a combo. Got a lot of real life stuff going on right now and at the same time, two other roleplays require a bit more attention now than a few days ago. I'm sorry but I fear I'll need to tap out of this RP.

Legend of the Silver Legion Redux (Open)

Empire of Matathran

The orders were given and the group split up. The two mercenaries accompanied two Seekers back towards the World-Hauler with all the knowledge they got from the Totem of Lucrore. But not before Lee brought the fear of the Gods into these men's hearts. Should any of the Seekers not return, Ittain would search for them. Ittain would find them and he would kill them in the same, horrible manner as he killed their compagnons. Should they succeed though, their mates' shares would be theirs. The group remained united until they were nearing Chalice and then they split.

Lee, Ittain and one more Seeker headed for Hyperion's Way. A strange place nested in the mountains. Several myths and half-truths gleaned from talks at the inns down south spoke of a flower that somehow brought forth a weapon. Ittain seemed to mumble something about the Flower of Stars. Lee had grown to respect the man but also fear him. He wasn't just a mere old man. Still, the promise of this the Celestial Flower (as later merchants named it) was too great to pass on. So they marched on, into the mountains.

The trek was somewhat arduous - though there was a foot-path leading up to their destination, it was poorly maintained, and near the top Lee was stopped by Ittain just in time to prevent him from setting off a tripwire snare that would have set off a rockfall trap had he broken it - they would have company more disreputable than last time, it would seem.

When they finally reached the plateau set in the mountainside, the site which the map labeled as Hyperion's Way became apparent - it was modest, by the standards of the vale. A round plaza made of weathered bricks, with a single stone slab in the middle inscribed with ancient, unrecognizable text - and, set into the side of the mountain was a single natural cavern passage.

More recent additions to the area were present in the form of two tents, a few racks, a campfire, and a number of leather parcels lain out in stacks - along with three individuals, armed, and unlikely to be Matathran officials.

"Well, look who got past the rockfall snare." One of them declared nonchalantly as all three men rose, drawing their weapons - crude, improvised blades that looked as though they had been made from the remnants of plows. "If you came to take the trial, you came just in time. Come noon, the last piece of meat will either succeed or fail - and you'll be next." His expression was jovial, and his eyes filled with greed as he slowly approached, his two companions circling around to flank Ittain and Lee.

“Ittain, maybe it’s time you show them that blue flames spell of yours again.” Lee said rather tentatively to his master. While he and the other Seeker pulled their much sharper blades. But Ittain turned to Lee and said: “Oh, even I don’t know what spell that was.” He said as if it was just to mention it like a small detail. But it was the fact Lee had counted on. With their official protection gone, he thought Ittain could just blast them away. “Wait so… you can’t protect us?” Lee asked surprised, if not a little frightened. “Oh… suppose I can. I think. Maybe I should sit down and think about that spell. It could pop up again. It had blue flames you say?” Ittain said as if the group of bandits were standing in front of them. “Damn, now is not the time!” Lee said, pointing his dagger at the one who spoke. Ittain turned to them, showing his bandaged eyes.

“Oh, that little trap? A nice work really. Using your environment. Saves a lot of time I’d imagine. Trial? Oh look, Lee, they’re already performing a Trial! Wait, what Trial?” Ittain just spoke as if nothing was wrong. Lee on the other hand: “Are you not seeing those damned blades!? They’re going to kill us!” Meanwhile he held his left hand behind his back, forming an illusion spell with it.

"Oh no, we won't kill you. Not unless you you make it inconvenient for us. No, I imagine it will be the wasps what kill you." The bandit's leader chortled as all three of them began to encroach on the seekers. "Now, put down your blades, or we'll kill the gibbering old fool first - slowly."

“Excuse me did you just call me a fool?” Ittain asked, as if he only took offense of that fool. “Listen, you drop your weapons and we promise you can just go away with your lives. Think about it man. Our blades are clearly a lot better than yours.” Still, maybe they had trained with theirs? It was something Lee though only briefly about as in his mind he was shaping the giant serpent for the spell. It was almost done.

"You only have daggers, and from the looks of your clothes you are all some of those weird blood-caste foreigners. You've probably never had to use them a day in your life." The bandit leader said, his smile finally vanishing even as he took another two steps forward - just inside of lunging distance. "Last chance. Drop 'em, or else there will barely be anything left for the wasps."

Lee didn’t answer. Instead he held up his left hand high and let a purple flash fill the area. He hoped the illusion was convincing enough. He had woven quite a few of them already in the past. But never under stress like this. In the leader's eyes, a giant snake would burst out of the rocks behind the group of bandits, showing it’s giant fangs before it rushed towards them. It couldn’t hurt them. It wasn’t even real. The falling stones from the serpent bursting out couldn’t even touch them. They just weren’t there. The illusion though, wasn’t flawless. Some rocks falling had no sound and on parts of the serpents body scales were missing. Still, people of lesser wit could believe it was a real monster.

The illusion worked, in part - the bandit leader and one of the other two did not even hear the illusion with its inconsistent sounds - but the third did, causing him to turn back in surprise and subsequently panic. The man screamed in terror, jumping backwards awkwardly directly into Lee and his waiting knife as the bandit leader recoiled in shock at his comrade's action. The third, turning to look at what had spooked the first, saw the illusion and also fell for it - albeit, with unexpected bravery, charged headlong as the serpent with a roar and a swipe of their blade, only to fall flat on their face for their effort.

“Oh, Dire Serpent. A little inconsistent though.” Ittain said. “Is now really the right moment to criticize me!?” Lee rebutted. “Well whenever else?” Ittain returned. “When we aren’t threatened by someone with cold hard iron!” Lee was getting fed up. But Ittain barely realized in what situation he was. Lee barely understood the inner workings of the old man. In fact, he shouldn’t even be able to see the Dire Serpent. “Oh him? He’s no-one. Look at him, holding a sharpened shovel like it’s a weapon. Now you be careful sir. That’s a very dangerous object you’re holding. Now, if you would be so kind, maybe you could be our guide into this cave. There are coming all sorts of interesting energies from it.”

The bandit leader did not comply, instead snarling and lunging for Lee with his crude weapon out-thrust, even as the third bandit behind him began to get back up on their feet.

Lee could dodge the attacks, but in the act the leader passed Ittain. “Well that is just rude.” In the meanwhile, Lee was fighting. He was barely able to say: “Would you help me here!?” The action almost cost him his ear. Ittain just sighed. “Very well, I suppose I will.” He held out his hand out towards the nearest rock wall. A red-hot glow burned a strange, glyphic circle in it. From it, a pitch black portal appeared and out came a large, black, human like arm with claws on its fingers. It grabbed the leader and pulled him back into the black portal. Above the bandit that was just getting up another glyphic circle formed in red-hot lines drawn in the very air. From it another black portal appeared, dropping the bandit leader on his mate. Both black portals then closed themselves. On the rock only a handful of glyphs remained burned into the rock. Ittain walked up to the two bandits, saying: “Now that we have that little, petty skirmish out of the way, how about you tell us a little about this place?”

The bandit leader simply swore, and with a surge, leapt to his feet and fled back down the mountain trail, having lost his blade in the portal. His compatriot, stunned from having the hefty man dropped on him out of nowhere, was groaning and rolling over onto his side, his own blade abandoned by his side. He did not seem inclined to speak up.

"What's all the comm...o...tion..." A fourth bandit started as they emerged from the cavern passage, seeing the three seekers standing over the bodies of two of his companions. His face blanched, and without a word, he turned and ran back into the depths of the cavern passage.

“Really just all so rude.” Ittain complained. Lee on the other hand was quite out of breath from everything that just happened. “That one isn’t going to talk.” He said looking at the groaning bandit. “Guess we’ll have to ask the one who ran inside.” And so Ittain and Lee went into the cave. “Hello? Young man! We’re not here to hurt you. We’re pilgrims.” Ittain yelled through the cave, as Jacob held his hand up and cast a light spell to brighten the cave up.

The cavern passage went on a ways, and while unlit beyond the magical light Jacob had cast, its length was even, the walls generously proportioned, and the ground level. They shortly came to a tight curve in the passage, and turning it, they found the chamber of Hyperion's Way.

They stood on a perilously short ledge overlooking what, for all intents and purposes, might well have been a sheer drop for a bottomless chasm. There was a single hole in the ceiling of the cave through which the sun's light shone, but even with the addition of Jacob's light the dark depths remained veiled in shadow. The pit was filled with the sound of a distant humming, like a vast swarm of flying insects. Around the walls of the room were carved alcoves of stone recessed into the cavern's structure, inaccessible by foot, each containing an exquisite marble statue of an ancient figure, looking into the chamber with passive, stoic expressions. Many of them wielded implements of various natures, instruments, weapons, tools - some wore crowns and robes, whilst more were naked or armored. Their proportions and features were apart and alien from any species of hominid, so it stood to reason that most of the statues represented Primordial figures. Above them, the cavern roof formed a hemispherical dome, with a single aperture at the top where a ray of daylight shone through.

A number of pillars rose from the darkness below - most of them thin, and supporting seemingly randomly proportioned stepping-stones that could have been chosen from amongst any of the large rocks that had lined the mountain trail on the way up, all of them leading to the larger, central pillar, which supported a large stone plinth - a vessel, filled with earth, upon which coward a single naked and decrepit figure covered in oozing sores and lesions, strips of their flesh having fallen away, signs of their waste and their rotting flesh scattered across the top of the plinth. The bandit they had seen retreating into the cave was hopping hastily across the stepping stones towards the central plinth.

“Well this looks interesting.” Ittain just looked into the distance, at the statues. Finding them much more worthy of his attention than the bandit. Lee hated the situation he was in, but he couldn't ignore the single light, the stepping stones, the wrecked victim in the middle of it all. It all just formed a greater whole. “Hey, you there! Stop!” He yelled to the bandit. Though not daring to get on the stepping stones himself.

The bandit set foot on the plinth then turned back to face the seekers. "No! All of you lot had better throw your weapons down into the pit here and then leave, or else I'll be putting this sad heap out of their misery!" He called out at the seekers - his face had gone stark-white, he was trembling all over, and his fists, which were clenched tightly, were trembling. The prone form of the figure behind him only curled further in upon itself in response to the bandit's intrusion upon the pedestal.

Lee really didn’t want to drop his weapon. Though he knew that in the end, he had the upper hand. But he didn’t want the upper hand. He wanted information. Then it reached him. He pulled out one of his coin purses and held it up, shaking it slightly. “See this? It’s all yours if you tell us about these Trials.”

"How about fuck you?!?!" The bandit shouted back, drawing his own plowshard sword and gesturing it at the prone, rancid heap of flesh behind him. "You heard me! Weapons in the pit, then back out! No more words, just get!"

“Well you’re just a terrible guide really. We’re offering you good gold here just for you to open your mouth and in return, you’re threatening some poor sap.” Ittain said from the side. “Besides, we don’t really care for that guy. He ain’t with us so why should we care if you kill him?” Lee added, keeping the coin purse out and in sight. “You don’t really stand to win anything no matter what you do.”

"Shut up! Just shut up!" The bandit pressed the tip of his sword into the quivering figure behind him. He paused abruptly, his face contorting in fear and anger as the sound of the humming swarms below started to slowly grow in intensity.

“Ittain, maybe you should cast the spell again.” Lee told his master. Who was still distracted. “What spell?” the old man asked confused. “The arm and the black portals!?” But Ittain just looked confused. Until he finally got it. “Oh right! No. That wasn’t the spell.” He began to speak to himself, pondering upon it. “Was it the… no, no that one has irridiscent portals. Maybe it was.. No that doesn’t work with the moon as it is.” Lee just groaned and put the coins back away. “I’m done. Kill him.” He just said, being rather tired. What did he care if some random guy died? He would probably die of his wounds anyway. “But eventually you need to come off that pedestal as well and then I’m going to kill you. So either you come off it now and tell us what we want to know. Or you eventually come off it and we kill you. Either way I’m done with this.” Lee was getting really done with Matathran.

It was then that flickering lights began to dance within the darkness of the pit below. The approaching hum of innumerable insects grew even closer - the bandit peered with a terrified expression over the lip of the plinth and then, making a decision, yelled at Lee at the top of his breath and started charging across the stepping-stones towards the truth-seekers, his plowshard sword raised as he quickly leapt from stone to stone. Then, just as he reached the stepping stone right in front of the ledge the truth-seekers stood on, the horde arrived.

Untold hundreds of thousands of wasps filled the entire charmber, their wings a glittering, dark iridescent shade that blazed with glimmering light when they flew underneath the centermost column of light. Most of the swarm focused on the wounded figure still prone at the center of the chamber - but many of them swarmed around the truth-seekers, sensing their presence as a potential threat -

And then, with another roar, the bandit threw himself from the last stepping stone at Lee, having deliberately timed his charge to take advantage of the swarm's appearance and take the seeker off-guard. Even as he flung himself across the abyss, hundreds of the iridescent wasps angrily reacted to the bandit's erratic movements and began to rapidly sting him - but he was already flying through the air, and they could not stop his momentum.

Lee was too late to evade the man. Though it appeared that the numerous stings were more important than trying to stab Lee. Who crawled from under the idiot. Eventually kicking him off the ledge down into the abyss. “Run!” He yelled to Ittain, who finally realized that the insect’s were forming a beautiful colored piece of art. They both got out, Ittain suspiciously free of stings. While Lee had a few scabs and wounds on his arms. “What happened?” the Seeker outside, guarding the last bandit asked. “I don’t know, a swarm just appeared. Gods that did not look good.” Lee felt exhausted. But Ittain was strangely calm. “So when do you think the buzzing will stop?”

Nearly a minute passed, and then finally, the sound of the thronging swarms within the cavern subsided, no longer audible from without.

When the buzzing stopped, Lee slowly walked back in the cave. The bandit and the wasps were gone. In the middle sat the same guy though. “Oh look, he’s still alive.” Said Ittain. As if he was just pleasantly surprised. “You alright!?” Yelled Lee. Suddenly the unimportant victim became their single, last source of information. So Lee decided to just play it friendly now. Even though he admitted that he didn’t care for the guy’s life mere minutes ago.

The victim - seemed no more damaged than before the swarm had risen from the depths. They still huddled, prone, in the center of the plinth - though now, fresh blood, pus, and phlegm flowed freely from the sores and lesions upon their back, arms, and head. They were trembling faintly, but did not move in response to Lee's inquiry.

Lee looked back at Ittain, who once again was entranced by the many statues far away from them. With a heavy sigh he began his journey over the stepping stones, dreading the deep abyss below him even more now. Once halfway he repeated his question: "You alright?" The answer was obvious though. Whoever it was, they looked far from healthy and Lee was not trained in any healing arts. They could hear their heavy, ragged breathing from halfway across the gap. As Lee stepped onto the plinth, the figure visibly flinched away from them, scrambling towards the edge of the platform - revealing what their hunched form had been concealing.

A flower. A beautiful, gleaming flower with white petals, glowing beneath the sunlight, shimmering black lines dappling across its surface. Its stem seemed crystalline in nature, and its five drooping stamen seemed to be holding aloft between them a sparkling cloud of pollen. Lee, with his years of studying the most ancient of manuscripts and texts, took a moment to recognize exactly what it was. An Astral Flower - thought to have been extinct for thousands of years, and pollinated by a species of Iridescent Wasps.

A gasp left his lips. In the scriptures it was said the Flowers were destroyed. All of them, for they brought forth a weapon too powerful to exist. Yet here it was and within it, the weapon. Whatever it was. Legend would tell him. The myths would speak. It would become another powerful relic for the vaults of Vallenguin. He reached out, towards the flower. His fingers carefully going to the cloud. Exhiliartion was replaced with dread as he felt nothing. Shocked, mad and confused he shot right up again. Looking down at the flower as if it had betrayed him. Or had something much more conscious stolen it?

He turned to look at the victim, trembling as they lay on the ground just by the edge of the plinth. Their body and features were so heavily damaged by wounds from constant stinging, too lathered with sweat, blood, and vitriolic fluids, that Lee could not even determine what gender they were. Their hair had all fallen out some time ago it seemed, and every part of their body was swollen with ruddy and pulsating blue hues just beneath the surface of their skin. Looking to their hands, Lee could see - one was open, lain flat against the ground. The other - their other hand was clenched, as if grasping something, even as blood soaked through their fingers. The extremity lay right beside the open pit.

"Now that is an interesting thing." Ittain said, having somehow appeared behind Lee. "Who would have thought the Gods would allow those things to exist?" the old man followed up. Lee, on the other hand, was in no mood for cryptic texts. The thing, the still-living-corpse before him held what he wanted. "Open your palm, hand it over." he said with a stern voice. The voice he used against slaves back home.

The gruesome figure shuddered, drawing their form up somewhat, their hands coming together beneath their prone body as they rocked lightly back and forth on their heels, right by the edge of the drop. _{"Everything..."} They whispered.

"Easy now. Just hand it over." Lee extended his hand, though kept another on his dagger should the man try anything. He was too weak though. Everyone could see that. He wouldn't live until dusk. That didn't bother Lee all that much now. He had a craving for the weapon the flower had spawned. "Just hand it over and we'll make it quick." Lee added, letting the cold steel of his dagger reflect in the sunlight.

_{"'He wasps..."} The victim's hoarse voice was barely intelligible. _{"They 'ook...ebbery'hing bah you bid no'...all for wha'...?"}

"You wouldn't understand." Lee argued. Obviously, this was a lesser man. Someone of little wit. A farmer no doubt. Someone who had few cares about the land beyond his own. "Maybe he would." Ittain interjected. Lee let out a deep sigh. "For what, you ask? For greatness. For something beyond petty human lives. It's for something greater than one man or even a group of men. It's for a greatness that eclipses a city! Power so dreaded that dared to rise up against the insects. Power that made people despair so hard that they burned those beautiful flowers. Hand over whatever the flower produced and maybe your name might just live on in the history books." Lee held his hand open once more.

The man stretched his clenched hand out over the abyss, the thronging Iridescent wasps below still audible - and open his hand, palm-up. Resting in the center of the victim's hand - was a pearl. What must have been a pearl - there was no other way to describe it. Approximately the size of a man's eye, it strained Lee's ocular senses, gleaming with impossible coloration and an iridescent sheen. The victim turned their face up to Lee -

Their visage was nightmarishly grotesque. Their lips were twisted in a crooked line, blending in with that jagged wounds criss-crossing their face, all of them oozing mortal fluid. Their eyes were but faint shining lines of a sickly grey above the prtruding lump in the center of their face. It was possible they were partially or entirely blind, and was just following the sound of Lee's voice as they turned their head to look at him.

_{"...All 'or greed and lus'?"} They choked out.

Suddenly Ittain took a step towards the man. In his eyes there was a shine Lee had not yet seen. "It... should not be..." the old man whispered. "The Impossible Color." The fact that this tiny object could entrance Ittain did not comfort Lee. Who held the man back. "You are holding something beautiful, my boy. This place of trial, it has weighted you. Please, I beg of you. You're holding something so beautiful yet you cannot see it. You cannot sense it. Please, let me show you. Through my eyes. So you may at least die knowing you have seen something that might just have been worth it all." Ittain spoke softly. With the common grandfatherly tone filled with genuine care.

_{"I habve seen enough."} The ruined figure's cracking voice managed to nonetheless convey a sense of finality. _{"...Jus' anober bauble. Jus' anodder preddy 'ing. Jus' anodder remnan' ob primordials."} Their ruined voice was barely comprehensible, though the gist of it got through.

"No no, please. I beg of you. Your pain, I understand it. You are dying, please. Let me make it worth something. Let me make it worthy. I can help you." Ittain maintained, as he slowly approached the man.

_{"'Hab's your..."} The figure slurred something neither Lee or Ittain could make out. _{"...nodding wert id. Nodding."} Their whole body began to shake. Their hand, still clutching the impossible grandeur of the pearl, trembleded dangerously over the pit. They raised their other arm as if to shield themselves from Ittain as the man approached.

There was a pained look on Ittain. "You will forgive me." He outstretched one hand, almost touching the man as Ittain turned his vision towards the pearl. Sending the sensations towards the man. Sending him visions of what Ittain saw.

The entirety of the world was shadowed and dusken-hued. The plinth that the three all stood upon was nothing but a collection if writhing shadows. Lee had been reduced to a pale shade, barely perceptible but for the suggestion of his silhouette. The statues along the rim of the chamber were all blurred, waxy in structure and inchoate. But the pearl -

In the victim's hand, the Ammacre Pearl was a tiny star, emannating deep, rippling waves of iridescent and impossible light. Its brilliance was beyond what the mortal senses could withstand - the thing was more brilliant than the sun, but its light was not harsh, and to look at it was to feel an overwhelming sense of profound clarity, as though the entire rest of the start world were less real than the tiny, immaculate pearl clutched in the victim's hand. In the center of the glow, the pearl itself was like the spark of life, seen only in the eyes of others, incomprehensible but beautiful despite its intangible nature - an ineffable sense of wonder and promise.

_"Oh." Was all the victim said.

Without another word, strength fled them. Their arm slipped through Ittain's grasp like leaves in the wind or powdered snow, the fluids from their injuries making it impossible to keep hold.

They fell into the depths below, carrying the grandeur of the pearl with them. Neither Lee or ittain heard them reach the bottom - though as they looked down they could barely see, between the flickering, shadowed darting forms of innumerable iridescent wasps in the darkness, a small patch of something blurry and indistinct, a shade of nothing that could not be - and now that they looked...

The pit was full of them. Full of corpses. Full of a multitude of pearls of impossible color. All decomposing in the darkness, hidden from the world, watched over only by the apathetic iridescent swarms, blind to the tragedy of one and the brilliance of the other.

"No!" It was ittain who screamed when the Pearl was lost. Almost reaching over the edge before Lee got a hold of him. "Let it go old man! Let it go!" the youngling screamed. Knowing full well Ittain would jump if not stopped. The two struggled on the plinth. Lee holding the old man down, Ittain trying to get down. But eventually sanity returned to the old man. Who just went numb. Lee and Ittain walked out, somehow a little more broken than when they entered. "We will return. I swear it to you. Even if I have to sit on that plinth myself, we will get us a Pearl." Lee rarely swore, but the words he spoke then could as well have been written in blood.

Godfall - The Emergence [Dead]

Christopher Redfield, Son of Magic

Name: Christopher Redfield
Age: 26
Parents: Amy Redfield & Cyl'Nyarlith

Powers:
Resurgent Magecraft - Magic was almost erased from the world. But now that the key has turned, magic is returning. Christopher is one of the first generations of magi to wield this powerful force again. Being a Demi-god with the heritage of Cyl'Nyarlith, he is more attuned to magic and its many aspects. Yet magic has died, which means that the magic harnessed by most these days is solley gained through dangerous trial and error. Simply put, modern day magic is young and barely scratches the surface of what it can truly do.

Ancient Magecraft - Many ancient civilizations carried remnants of old ways of magic. Druids attuned themselves closely to nature. While Native American shamans worshipped their ancestors. Each old civilization has a path of magic. The longer the civilization's dominion, the more complex and far-reaching they became. For ordinary magi, trying to uncover these secrets would require one to dedicate their lives to study dead languages, ancient glyphs, and half-forgotten legends. However, Chris has an insight into the functions of these old ways of magic. When he sees the glyphs, he can understand the magic they talk about. Even if he does not understand the language itself. The more he understands though, the more his insight will show him. Either way, having almost immediate access to long-forgotten magic easily put him another step above most other magi.

Backstory: Born from the lab assistant Amy Redfield and Cyl (in the form of a very wealthy doctor), Chris was born quite obviously out of wedlock. His mother refuses to talk about the night or the person Chris would call father. Be it destiny or a sick version of luck, Chris held an interest in the magical. Even as a young boy he read and wrote stories about dragons and other fantastical creatures. Most boys would add a valiant knight but not Jacob. He added wizards and mages. As he grew older, his love for the mysterious and the impossible continued to grow. Until he got into High School. Reality forced Chris to abandon his love of mythicism. Stepping in the footsteps of his mother, he wanted to get into Pre-Med, then Med School to finally became a medical researcher.

He carried this new dream all the way until he was supposed to enter Med School. He truly wanted to but one warm summer night changed everything. A spark, in between his hands, changed everything. A spark caused by the newly returning magic. Chris' ancient love for all that's mystical returned. He dove into books, website and talked to people only. Most of them were fake. But when he found someone who managed to make a spell, he tried it out instantly. The spell worked from the first go.

He threw away his future as a researcher and instead began to travel the world. When you could do magic, getting money became a lesser concern. He visited those who he strongly thought to be like him. Capable of practicing magic. He also went to places of ancient civilization. Amongst the newly resurgent Magi, Christopher is a bit of a figure. Some even call him the Archeologist because he often delves in ancient knowledge to bring back old spells.

Motive: Christopher wants power. More specifically he wants magical power. Maybe first to make a group of cultists, but what then? Rulership wouldn't be that many steps away. Not with magic.

Opinions: Even though he suspects it, so far Christopher does not know with absolute certainty that Gods exist. However, he never met anyone who is a demi-god or god.

Godfall - The Emergence [Dead]

Christopher Redfield, Son of Magic

Name: Christopher Redfield
Age: 26
Parents: Amy Redfield & Cyl'Nyarlith

Powers:
Resurgent Magecraft - Magic was almost erased from the world. But now that the key has turned, magic is returning. Christopher is one of the first generations of magi to wield this powerful force again. Being a Demi-god with the heritage of Cyl'Nyarlith, he is more attuned to magic and its many aspects. Yet magic has died, which means that the magic harnessed by most these days is solley gained through dangerous trial and error. Simply put, modern day magic is young and barely scratches the surface of what it can truly do.

Ancient Magecraft - Many ancient civilizations carried remnants of old ways of magic. Druids attuned themselves closely to nature. While Native American shamans worshipped their ancestors. Each old civilization has a path of magic. The longer the civilization's dominion, the more complex and far-reaching they became. For ordinary magi, trying to uncover these secrets would require one to dedicate their lives to study dead languages, ancient glyphs, and half-forgotten legends. However, Chris has an insight into the functions of these old ways of magic. When he sees the glyphs, he can understand the magic they talk about. Even if he does not understand the language itself. The more he understands though, the more his insight will show him. Either way, having almost immediate access to long-forgotten magic easily put him another step above most other magi.

Backstory: Born from the lab assistant Amy Redfield and Cyl (in the form of a very wealthy doctor), Chris was born quite obviously out of wedlock. His mother refuses to talk about the night or the person Chris would call father. Be it destiny or a sick version of luck, Chris held an interest in the magical. Even as a young boy he read and wrote stories about dragons and other fantastical creatures. Most boys would add a valiant knight but not Jacob. He added wizards and mages. As he grew older, his love for the mysterious and the impossible continued to grow. Until he got into High School. Reality forced Chris to abandon his love of mythicism. Stepping in the footsteps of his mother, he wanted to get into Pre-Med, then Med School to finally became a medical researcher.

He carried this new dream all the way until he was supposed to enter Med School. He truly wanted to but one warm summer night changed everything. A spark, in between his hands, changed everything. A spark caused by the newly returning magic. Chris' ancient love for all that's mystical returned. He dove into books, website and talked to people only. Most of them were fake. But when he found someone who managed to make a spell, he tried it out instantly. The spell worked from the first go.

He threw away his future as a researcher and instead began to travel the world. When you could do magic, getting money became a lesser concern. He visited those who he strongly thought to be like him. Capable of practicing magic. He also went to places of ancient civilization. Amongst the newly resurgent Magi, Christopher is a bit of a figure. Some even call him the Archeologist because he often delves in ancient knowledge to bring back old spells.

Motive: Christopher wants power. More specifically he wants magical power. Maybe first to make a group of cultists, but what then? Rulership wouldn't be that many steps away. Not with magic.

Opinions: Even though he suspects it, so far Christopher does not know with absolute certainty that Gods exist. However, he never met anyone who is a demi-god or god.

Godfall - The Emergence [Dead]

That's fair! Apologies for asking for a god. I'll make a demi-god of something though! (I love God RPs)

Godfall - The Emergence [Dead]

Is this still open? I'd like to make a god of war.

CANCELLED.

I'm staying!

CANCELLED.

Location: Farweight Residence → Damian's Beach House
Interacting with: Fawn Woods_@Kitty

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Seven hours before midnight

Jacob, like always, was sitting in front of his three screens. Typing away, joining numbers with images and tables. To an outsider, he might as well be practicing magic. In reality, though he was hard at work, even on the last day of the year. He was mostly working on his Economy class, as well as getting his portfolio ready for the upcoming fiscal year. Part of what convinced his father on letting him work on the Stock Market was the grown-up approach. Jacob kept it tight and professional. He even wrote his own reports. Mostly at school in the library if it was a slow day. So far he was rarely wrong when it came to a company. On his third screen, several news anchors were talking about various kinds of news. They were replays, sure. But Jacob could still reap some valuable bit of information from the subtitles. He had to, as some loud trap music was blasting in his ears. Muting the anchors.

He felt a few hard taps on his desk table and looked up, right into the eyes of his father. He dropped the headphones around his neck. "You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?" Lucas asked. His father was dressed surprisingly fashionable. "Wow, dad, what are you planning tonight?" But Lucas just squinted back. "Don't try to change the subject. Did you hear me?" Groaning, Jacob dropped his head against his chair's headrest. "Okay, no."

"I asked 'what are your plans for tonight?'" Lucas repeated. Jacob knew his father wouldn't accept a 'nothing'. Still, he tried it. Lucas just shook his head and walked out of his room. Allowing Jacob to continue working. Until his dad walked back in with a piece of paper. "Didn't your friend's mom have a beach house at this exact location." Jacob didn't need to look at the paper to know what it was. A printed out version of the New Years Eve party of El Jefe. How his dad got his hands on it though, was a mystery. Still, he wasn't planning on going. "Yeah. But I think you got it mixed up. That's probably from last year." But Lucas just shook his head. "You're going."

Jacob jumped right up. "Wow, what? No, I'm not going!" His dad wasn't having it though. He just walked out, repeating himself. "You're going." Jacob ran after his dad, who went to his own room and had just punched in the code for his small safe. "Dad, dad there will be drinking." "I drank like a sinner back when I was your age, so what's the problem?" "And drugs! There will be so much drugs." "You're smart enough to know what to get into and what not." "Dad, dad! There will be... Dad people will be drunk and they be hot and bothered and-" "Good, then you can finally get some action." "Dad!" That last comment just left Jacob stunned. Most parents wouldn't say any of those words. In fact, most parents would have forbidden their kids from going to the party. Lucas pulled one of his guns from the safe, locked it again and turned around to face his son. "When I was your age I got drunk and into, frankly I got into a lot of fights. But now I've been happy for months, knowing you don't do that. But really, try to live a little. You're only eighteen for so long."

Jacob had to find a way to get out of the arrangement. Of course, his dad wouldn't be really mad if he didn't go. It would be disappointing though. Being put between a rock and a hard place, Jacob finally relented. "Fine, but I'm only leaving when it's eight." Jacob couldn't see it, but he knew his dad was smiling. He still went downstairs to say his dad farewell. "Well, I need to get going." Lucas said, observing himself once more in the mirror, dressed in his suit. "How do I look?" Jacob chuckled. "Damn dad, you're supposed to protect the ladies. Not seduce them." Jacob could only spot a faint grin in the mirror. But it was enough. A few minutes later and Lucas drove out in his BMW. Jacob just assumed he would be going out to some fancy private party, playing gatekeeper. He himself went upstairs to his room again. The report on The Green Company. It would be the center of his 2043 portfolio.

3 hours, 30 minutes before midnight

"Shit." Jacob was looking down at his phone buzzing. His dad as the caller ID. he let it ring for a few times, contemplating on just not picking up. Still, he pushed the green button. "Dad?" On the other side, there was an ear-deafening amount of noise. Jacob could barely hear his father practically yelling: "Jacob! Are you at the party yet?" He bit his teeth for a minute. "Not yet!" There was no point in lying to his dad. "Are you going?" The noise got a little better on the other side. Jacob assumed his dad walked into some other room. But really, where was he that there was so much noise? "I will... Just... Dad..." Jacob couldn't really come up with an excuse that wasn't 'I really don't want to.' "Listen, Jacob. Go. If you don't like it, just text me and go back home. No consequences." Jacob relented. "Fine. I'll go. But I am doing you the favor here." "Good boy." was the last Lucas said before hanging up.

Jacob kept looking down at the phone. He'd keep his word, but he wasn't looking forward to it. Still, he powered off his computer, grabbed his keys and wallet and just walked out of the house. El Jefe's beach house wasn't that far away. Maybe half an hour running. For a second he realized he wasn't really dressed for a party. He was wearing simple jeans and a shirt that was a bit too big for him, over which he had a baggy hoodie to keep him warm. Not that he actually needed in LA. Still, he liked the hoodie look. And so he went on his run through the night.

25 minutes later

Jacob was getting near. He could hear the music pounding already. There were some obvious sweat stains on his back from the running. But he didn't care. He'd keep his promise, he'd go to the party but he was almost convinced he wouldn't be staying for long. In the distance though, he saw a figure walking away from the party. He stopped for a moment, trying to recognize her. She was very short and walked on bare feet. Though she was familiar. Still, were people already leaving? he ran up to the girl, getting in front of her as he asked: "Hey, are you really already leaving? Is the party that bad?"

CANCELLED.

Requesting judgment:

Jacob Farweight

Son of Cain

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_{Jacob Lana Farweight
"We own it" || "Mirror" || "Shepherd of fire"}

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"I am not my father but I am a Farweight."

| | N I C K N A M E (S) | |

• Jay

| | A G E | |

18, 7th of August

| | G E N D E R | |

Male

| | S E X U A L I T Y | |

Heterosexual _{There's a rumor going around claiming he's actually asexual.}

| | R E L A T I O N S H I P S T A T U S | |

Single

| | O C C U P A T I O N | |

Full time student, though he works with his own capital on the Stock Exchange.

| | C L A S S I F I C A T I O N | |

Senior

| | R O L E | |

Jock though he sometimes acts like a floater

| | I N D E P T H A P P E A R A N C E | |

Jacob takes a lot after his father when it comes to his physical appearance. He looks very much like the opposite of grace. Standing a respectable 6'5" and weighing 185lbs, he’s more of a bulky, large mass shaped like a brick. A block you couldn’t move if he wanted to and if he wanted to, an undeniable presence. None of his weight is fat too. It's all muscle. When it comes to dress style, Jacob prefers comfort over style. In fact, you will generally find him wearing hoodies and loose fitting T-shirts.

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W H O A M I ?

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| | H A B I T S | Q U I R K S | O D D I T I E S | |

• Something he got from his father after Jacob's mother died. He likes to wake up in the early days, way before the sun comes up, for a run. Then he goes to the 365 Combat Club the moment it opens to get an early work-out in. Every Monday, Tuesday and, Friday he also goes to the Club after school. Before dinner, he and his dad (if he's home) go for another run. This is generally at dusk.
• There is little doubt about it. Jacob's grade far exceeds the average grade of his class. Even his year. This did not come from cleverness alone. It also comes from hours upon hours studying and hard work. Unlike most honor students though, he fails at networking much. Meaning his social life is nearly no-existant.
• He knows his place on the social ladder and acts like it. Those above him can boss him around if they so desire. It part of the game, as he sees it. Though things need to remain reasonable. He's not a minion.
• There are few people that can push themselves as much as Jacob. It's not just about how much his body can take, it's about how far his mind wants to go. During football games, Jacob rarely cares for his own health, only focussing on the glory of the win. At the same time, academically speaking, he studies for hours until deep into the night. To a point where he forgets to eat and falls asleep at his desk.

| | D R E A M S | |

Jacob wants to have the same impact on people as his mother. Though he knows he can't do that directly. So instead he wants to become rich, so he can become one of the world's greatest philanthropist.

| | L I K E S | |

• Football
• Trap, rap, techno, metal. Generally, any music that gets him pumped up.
• High grades
• Hot girls, with a certain interest in cheerleaders. He can't help it. But he doesn't show it either.
• Winning

| | D I S L I K E S | |

• Theatre students who just take it too far
• His Arts teacher
• Anyone who kills the mood, especially of a party
• Slow or swing music
• Losing at football
• Failing a test

| | F E A R S | |

Becoming his father - Despite the bumps in the road, Jacob loves his father. But after a long talk back when Jacob was small, he saw a darker side of his dad. He fears that he'll become just like his father.

Not living up to his mother's legacy - He knows that his mother was a good woman. Someone who healed hundreds of people and indirectly helped thousands. He wants to do the same, but he's not like his mother.

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D E F I N I N G M Y P A S T

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| | H I S T O R Y | |

Jacob was born in the happy family of Laura Greenfield and Lucas Farweight. For a few months after his birth, everything was damn near perfect. Then his father left to go to war again. Laura and Lucas had an understanding now. But still, Jacob had to grow up with less dad than most in his early life. Much like his father, he grew quickly. In Elementary he was one of the biggest kids on the playground. With that, he had an obvious physical advantage. Everyone wanted him on their team during anything of games. Knowing full well Jacob would wreck the others. Slowly but surely, Jacob began to realize he could take advantage of this. At first, he could just ask for whatever he wanted. After a while, he wanted more and started intimidating kids into giving it. Then, when he turned 11, the sins of the father became the sins of the son.

Laura was called at her practice by the principle. Politely but firmly requesting her to come to his office to discuss a certain unfortunate event involving Jacob. Laura rushed towards the school, finding her son sitting in the reception area, looking angry at the wall. What followed shamed Laura as a mother. Jacob was caught red handed nearly kicking a kid for not handing over his chocolate dessert. She was furious, but Jacob wouldn’t have any of it. He remained stubborn and refused to listen to his mom.

Right until his father came home. That evening he told Laura to go out with her friends and he’d handle it. Once she was out of the house, his dad fired up the BBQ, cracked open a beer for him and a cola for his son. That was an evening Lucas talked about just about everything. His job, the people he worked with, why he did it. But he also talked about school. About the time he was a bully. Though granted, Lucas was a lot older when he bullied. The talk carried on deep into the night when the BBQ was nothing but embers. Yet it left a strong impression on Jacob, who swore he’d never hurt anyone ever again.

Things got better then. Jacob had turned himself around. Going to Middle School allowed him to start with a clean slate. Sports became increasingly more important. Jacob showed a particular talent for football, mostly at blocking and tackling. There was little doubt that this was partially due to his size. But still, there was something inside of Jacob. He never backed down from a larger opponent. In fact, he outright denied being injured several times over just to finish games. His coach was impressed, Laura surprised and Lucas worried. Still, everyone saw that sports were having a good influence on him.

Someone else too had a good influence on him. Sophie Atwell. A girl he met and befriended at the start of Middle School. The two were quite literally inseparable. Right until High School was on the horizon. Sophie’s father got a job in Chicago and decided to move in the upcoming summer. The prospect of moving didn’t frighten Jacob all that much. He promised time and time again he’d visit as often as he could. As a good friend would. Then, a day before she moved they hung out one last time. After she left, Jacob found her letter. Confessing her love for him.

Jacob did not love Sophie. He saw her as a friend, a great friend. But he didn’t love her. The boy didn’t know what to do. He went out for a run, walked around his room, listened to music on the loudest volume. Almost he asked his mom for advice. But then thought that it would be stupid. Hours passed but Jacob didn’t contact Sophie. Eventually, he saw the moving van pass his house. Sophie was gone. In a burst of madness, he wanted to go after her. But right then his father came home and sat him down again. Lucas would get Jacob in Chicago, but he had to know what to say.

Jacob was in the horns of a dilemma now. If he went, he’d have to tell her he didn’t love her. If he left the question unanswered, forever, she’d feel hurt as well. For days Jacob struggled with it. Then she began to message him. First asking if he found her letter. Then asking if he’d answer. Finally, she acted as if there never was a letter and just wanted to be friends. But Jacob couldn’t just pretend nothing had happened. He couldn’t get it out of him. He never went to Chicago and he never talked to her again.

He recovered somewhat from that. Though he confessed to his mom that he felt increasingly frustrated. As if he really, really wanted to hit something. Anything. All of the things! Recognizing Lucas’ own urges of aggression, she let him go train at an MMA club, though she forbid him from fighting in the ring. It leveled out his aggression. In fact, it served as a greater boon in High School, where he was quickly picked for the football team.

Laura still insisted that she’d pick her son up after practice. Much like Jacob and Lucas had their BBQ every time Lucas came back, Laura would have their car ride talks. Jacob didn’t mind. Of course, his mom was totally lame for doing. But deep down he knew she did it out of love. So every evening he waited outside the gates of the club for his mom. One evening he waited, and waited, and waited. The sun was down already and Jacob was just scrolling through his phone, trying not to freak out as he already called his mom thrice. He kept his cool, right until his trainer stepped out.

Laura had collapsed behind the wheel. She had a heart attack behind the wheel and caused an accident. She was alive, but critical. In the twilight of dusk, his trainer rushed him to the hospital. Where he was right on time to see his mom get rolled into the OR. Jacob just kept walking back and forth in the hall. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t stop fidgetting. Every fiber in his body was tense like a spring. Innumerable things went through his head. The sun was rising up when the surgeon came out of the OR. He laid one hand on Jacob’s shoulder and said: “I’m sorry son.” All tension dropped out of Jacob as he just collapsed on the ground. He wasn’t sad. He wasn’t angry. He was just numb. His mind registering what the doctor said but not understanding what it meant. With a blank stare he watched as a bed was rolled out of the OR. Right then, Lucas ran into the hallway. Seeing his son on his knees, with a doctor next to him.

Hundreds of people came to Laura’s funeral. Jacob always knew his mother influenced a lot of people. But now he saw their numbers. Jacob, after the wedding, was still not his old self. On the field, during football, he was numb and unfocused. Getting run over several times. In class he just looked outside, or watched with a blank stare in front of him. His grades slipped into oblivion. For the last three months of Jacob’s career at school, he failed everything. At the end of the trip, despite the school understanding of his situation, they could not pass him. In the meantime, Lucas was having trouble adapting back to New York City.

The two, after a heartfelt BBQ, agreed upon a change. They’d go to the other side of the states. Far, far away from New York and everything that they did and happened to them. In return, Jacob had to pull himself together. No more flunking grades and if he chose to play football, he’d have to train hard and play even harder. That promise they recited before Laura’s grave and that’s when Jacob fully understood the words. No more flunking grades. No more failed blocks.

The move to LA happened quickly. The temperature agreed with Jacob, who for the first time smiled and even swam in the sea for a moment. During that summer, Jacob did some serious soul-searching. Confronting himself with a series of very uncomfortable questions. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that he was not his mother. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t help people like she did. But he could do it in a different way. So, with the money he earned from working during that summer, he began to work on the stock market. Slowly learning himself the ropes. With a clear goal in mind.

At school, he still felt very much new. Things were different in LA. Jacob would’ve felt genuinely lost if not for one very peculiar girl. Cecilia Lovelace. Happy, bubbly but not afraid to speak her mind, she practically oozed confidence. The two became good friends. Jacob was even happy that she had such a wanderlust spirit, meaning she wouldn’t be around too often, assuming that neither of them could grow very attatched to the other. While, due to the miracle of technology, they could still talk. In Beverly Hills High he mostly kept himself under the radar. Working hard and barely going out. His previous coach had written a letter to the BHHS coach, greatly recommending Jacob for football. Which also worked out, as Jacob got the position of Left Tackler. Finally he worked as an aide at the school library. Both to stay be able to study in peace, as well as to polish up his resume to get into college. Being one year older already made that hard enough.

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A C A D E M I C S

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| | E X T R A C U R R I C U L A R A C T I V I T I E S | |

• Football - Linebacker
• Student Library Aide

| | B E S T & W O R S T S U B J E C T S | |

| B E S T |

Economics, History

| W O R S T |

Spanish, biology

| | E X T R A N O T E S | |

He has a Malinois pup named Cerebus. Generally his dad walks (runs) him. Though now that his dad is often out for work, he runs with it in the evening.

The Answers

I love pizza!
1) Unholy Trinity. The IT Girls back in the day. These days named the HOT girls (Haily, Ophelia & Trixie).
2) The candies are all about love. Ophelia leads them.
3) The first elite were led by Bryant O'Connor and was made up of 5 guys.

_{Faceclaim: Alexander Ludwig, Dialogue color: 6ECFF6}

Legend of the Silver Legion Redux (Open)

Empire of Matathran

Northeast of Chalice, Cradle's Throat

The map was clear - the Totem of Lucrore was near, and the awful presence of the City of Chalice had faded over the horizon at last. Though everyone was still on edge from the monster attack they had witnessed, the destination of their journey being so near had renewed some of their excitement.

“You think we’ll find answers there?” Lee asked his mentor. Over the course of their journey his views had changed. “Maybe… but that’s not what we truly need, is it?” answered Ittain. “We need the right questions first. Yes, the questions. Those are important. Why open a peasant’s footlocker, when you could find a king’s vault? It are the questions, my young… prodigy. Those are important. You can answer a billion questions and not learn a thing, or you can make one inquiry that changes your world. And it doesn’t even need to be answered.” As always, Lee’s mentor spoke in half-riddles. Though instead of rejecting them downright, he began to ponder on them. Though his concentration was broken quickly. “It’s not for. According to the map we’re barely half an hour away from it.” Said one of the Seekers.

The remaining journey was somehow more remarkable than the way to Chalice had been, despite the similarities. There were fewer farmsteads and small dwellings here. The occasional remnant seemed more untouched and less weathered, the plains themselves seemed more wild and untamed. Eventually, after climbing a particularly steep hill just as the sun began to set, basking in the twilight sat a ruin which had to be what they were looking for.

The ruins had a much larger area than many they had seen before. Rows of weathered columns surrounding the overgrown gardens of what once must have been a handsome path leading within the ruined main structure, still barely supported by surrounding buttresses. Within, they could see the remains of what had clearly once been a large atrium-styled hall, and the beginnings of a chipped but still largely intact mural lain out along the floor. The massive twin doors that had once led into the chamber had both fallen, and whatever structure had once existed above - a spire, or a dome perhaps - was long gone, leaving towering but still exposed awning above the place, leaving the interior open to the heavens.

That was not all the group saw. A single figure had been sitting watchfully on the fallen monoliths that had been the twin doors. Whoever it had been - their details had been hard to make out, as they were fully cloaked in dark robes - they had spotted the group, as they leapt to their feet and ran within the interior. A lookout.

“Stop.” Lee said. He had learned from his time in the north. They weren’t welcome here. The three other Seekers huddled together, grabbing their knives. The mercenaries, better equipped to handle trouble, formed a circle around their customers. Lee, with just a bit of combat experience, had prepared for this possibilities since they entered Matathran. They’d go in slow, expecting the ambush. The books said he should try to surround it. But he had far too many people on his side to do that. Though all sense of tactics were thrown out of the gate when he saw that Ittain was not amongst the other Seekers. Instead, the blind madman had closed his book and walked up to the collapsed door, whistling. “What is he doing!?” Lee yelled. The entire group began to run towards the old man. Who inexplicably got so close to the ruin and managed to enter before everyone else. "Hello there! Hello!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the massive structure.

Nobody answered him, and if not for having seen the lookout run inside, the place would have seem abandoned. The interior chamber, though visibly weathered and flooded in several parts, still retained much of its grandiose nature. It was a long hall, most ot the floorspace dedicated to a long mural made of multicolored shards and chips of stone and slate, which had deteriorated in many places or lost its coloration where not covered in water, but the imagery was still clear - shining figures with gleaming auras surrounded a fallen figure, but one amongst their number - an individual garbed in brilliant red raiments with filigree of gold and turquoise - lay a hand shrouded in white flames upon the fallen figure. Above them, as the walkway and mural reached the end of the hall, a rising impression of the same fallen figure, now wreathed in resplendent light, was depicted rising over a depiction of what had likely once been a stylized overhead map of Askor.

At the very rear of the chamber was a raised dais of marble, surrounded by a rotunda of walls with faded, painted imagery surrounding it - most of them far too damaged by rain and wear to make out, but one of them depicted a woman holding a babe, kneeling at the dais' foot. Atop the dais itself-

The Totem.

It was the one element of the ruin that still retained its wholeness, both in form and power. It stood nearly four meters tall, its structure made of some rough, gleaming red crystaline substance that had been formed in chunks, traced through with lines of brilliant turquoise. It rose as a column to support a prong that rose near the top, with notable alcoves near the prong's base and near the ends of each prong, each one shelled with rippling silver and housing a faint, hovering light within. Hung and drapped down from the central prong was a rich red tapestry of silk, rimmed with gold and depicting a circle of white flame around a nucleus of a soft orange sphere of light.

As tempting as it might have been to rush out into the open, the entire hall was lined with columns that cast adjoining areas and passages in darkness - the lookout or any number of other individuals could have been lurking therein, waiting.

Ittain remained at the entrace, looking wid- eyed inside. The mosaic at his feet telling stories he had read about time and time again. Eventually, Lee and the group could catch up. Realizing Ittain was just Ittain, he didn't say anything but tried to get the old man in the protection of the mercenaries he hired. Yet the old man moved Lee aside and wandered on, into the room, looking everywhere around. "Come out now, come out. We're all here in this holy house together. Come out." He motioned the mercenaries to lower their weapons. Who wisely disobeyed the order.

"He's mad." One said. "He'll doom us all if he walks in too deep. There are thieves in here." Lee took a note of the merc's suspicion, but still ushered the group to follow a far too comfortable Ittain.

They had advanced not even halfway down the hall, Ittain perhaps three quarters down, when cloaked figures emerged from the darkness of the adjacent pillars - just as the twilight above faded, and the first stars began to shine. The only light in the room now came faintly from above, from the torches the mercenaries had thought to bring, and the totem - and so the cloaked figures seemed as wraiths as they cautiously approached. There were perhaps a thirteen or fourteen of them in total -

A fifteenth of the hooded figures emerged from a passage near the rear of the chamber, and strode confidently past the totem itself towards Ittain.

"You called this place a holy site. Prithee, are you a Primordial Worshiper, mayhaps? From where do you hail?" His voice had a booming quality to it, easily heard by the seekers and mercenaries behind Ittain, but at the same time seemed measured and collected in its intonation - the man sounded...intrigued.

"We can't move further." the officer of the mercenaries said, holding the whole group up. "Why not! He's all alone there!" Lee shouted. "If we get in any more, nobody here makes a chance to run out of here." Lee bit his teeth and held his drawn dagger close. When the worst came to be, he'd weave some illusion of a monster barging in.

"Oh from far! I've come from so far. I've sailed over waves. Dove in the deepest caves." Ittain's enthusiasm seemed to be blinding him from the obvious truth. "But where I come from, there aren't any of those... magnificent things." he said, pointing at the Totem. "With such a powerful and mighty sign of Their power, you must have felt power so grand. Oh I almost envy you. I envy your faith. To sleep in such a forgotten but beautiful place. You must all be great worshippers. Tell me your names, please. I beg you, brothers."

His inquiry was met by laughter and scathing chuckles from the surrounding shrouded figures as they stepped ever-closer to the group of seekers and mercenaries behind him, some of them moving to block the pathway out. Their leader - still advancing towards Ittain from the totem itself - alone answered.

"Oh yes, this place, the totem, its power - the power of Lucrore - is self-evident. One would have to be blind in more ways than one not to recognize it...to be in awe of it." His voice was exultant as he spoke. "It drew us all here with a common purpose. We are the Fraternity of the Empyrean Flame. You may call me...Pedagogue Ormoneric. I am the foremost teacher and...disciple here, you might say. But tell me, who are you, and what is your purpose here? I would know if our ends would be harmonious with one another..." An implicit threat hung from the last of his words like a poised dagger.

"Why else would we be here, if not to ask the questions that demand to be asked for years now? And to ponder upon them, of course. Oh but my prodigy told me to speak in clear terms. Forgive me, brothers. We are here to learn from Lucrore and glean his insight on rebirth."

"Fool!" The words echoed through the hall. Lee was no longer scared or calculating. He was angry now. "Do you not see that these people are threatening us!?" A purple light shone in Lee's hand, he was ready to cast the spell. But his task just got a lot harder. These robbers were no longer allowed to survive.

Ittain, in the meantime, turned back to the man claiming ot be Ormoneric. "Is this true.. Pedagogue Ormoneric?" He sounded sad, instead of angry.

"Perhaps had you been of lesser ilk...but your desires meet ours." Ormoneric said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "You have come to learn of Lucrore, to glean insight on rebirth...That is our goal as well, you see. Forgive us our...temptations towards dispute. It is not everday we receive such enlightened guests such as yourself. This land is swarming with indolent, vagrant pedants who know not the potential of what remains here." He raised his hands and drew back his hood, revealing a tall face, long raven hair, and sparkling eyes set against bronze skin and pointed ears - a sun elf, albeit likely a half-breed given the coloration of his hair.

"Come, brothers, we are amongst friends - there is no need for such hostility...is there?" He looked past Ittain to Lee as he posed the question, his eyebrows raised. The surrounding members of his 'fraternity' stood poised at a distance immediately around the seekers and their guards.

"How do we know you're speaking the truth so we drop our guard?" Lee asked, still very much critical of what was happening and with the spell still ready. "Your people have not been kind to the Primordials. Your queen slaughtered the very one whose temple we now stand in. Why should I trust you?" he asked. Ittain looked down upon the ground, pondering the question. Letting Ormoneric answer.

"Empress." Ormoneric replied simply.

"That is no answer." Lee became ever more stand-offish. If this was Vallenguin, he would have the Seeker's vault summoned. If this was Vallenguin, Mist Mages and Sea Fangs would've surrounded the elves already. But this was not Vallenguin. "Why should I trust you?"

Ormoneric raised a single finger and wagged it admonishingly.

"Andromache is an Empress. Not a queen." He said neutrally. "It is important to keep the truth of the story straight in order to discern the truth of this place as it is now - and however much some may not like it, it is the height of delusion and folly not to recognize Andromache's status as it is. I shall recite...and you, boy, will listen, learn, and come to understand."

He snapped his fingers.

A brilliant, gleaming silver flame erupted at his fingertips, tracing its way along his body. The lights within the totem surged, and along the entire length of the hall, sconces of fire erupted with light, thin and pale flames dancing within as the interior was illuminated, casting the robes figures in greater detail. Many of them pulled back their hoods, their looks expectant as they turned their attention to Ormoneric.

Ittain smiled and sat down in between Ormoneric and Lee. "Listen to him, my Prodigy. This man knows what you want. If it makes you feel any safer, I will protect you." But Ittain did not move. He merely sat. Ready to listen. The Seekers looked at eachother. The first one slowly sat down, then another and finally all Seekers sat, except for Lee. Who remained defiant with the purple light in his hand. But not so defiant as to not listen to Ittain. "Fine, talk."

"Decades ago, an orphaned girl of fourteen found herself abandoned in the Cradle's Throat." Ormoneric began, his voice steady, if somewhat theatrical. "Left to fend for herself in the vale, replete only with monstrosities and terror, she came to this place seeking shelter, and seeking to despil it - herein, she took offerings left in praise of Lucrore for her own sustenance...and then, a miracle occurred..." He gestured behind the totem, to an empty alcove set in the wall of the rotunda surrounding it, where an empty and massive sarcophagus was raised against the wall. "The Primordial Lucrore, in the flesh, arose in this very chamber, when for thousands of years no other Primordial has been seen or heard from...! Now, the first question I pose to you, boy...Why would a Primordial, or even the Primordial Lucrore himself, have arisen at that specific moment...? Answer." His tone was firm and demanding.

Lee was not a fool. The obvious question, the one religion would dictate, was that Lucrore returned so the others could too. But Fate had its tendrils everywhere. "He returned for... Andromache?" It was an answer and a question and Ittain smiled. It didn't make sense. Why would he return just to be killed? Why not return now, when he would be amongst those faithful?

"Possibly, perhaps...your answer is adequate. Not the best I have ever heard, but the question is a difficult one - you see, there was nothing special about the movement and position of the celestial spheres above. It was not a particularly fortuitous moment in the season. It was a day far from that of any of the Primordial Holidays celebrated in any culture, at least as far as I am aware. The date past the year when the Primordials vanished was odd and unusual. The foolish would say he rose to punish her for despoiling his shrine and resting place, but that was not the first time such had occurred - and so the natural conclusion is that, whatever quality caused him to awake, Andromache's presence was sufficient for that purpose - or else, the quality is unknown and beyond our knowing." Ormoneric's smile became apologetic. "I apologize if that answer seems unsatisfactory - we are but mortals, grasping at straws in the wind, to understand the mind and motives of a god."

Lee, frustrated, threw his dagger against the ground. A loud clang rang through the hall. "That's not good enough! We came here with a mission. And I am not leaving until I get the answers I want." But then Ittain rose up. "Be silent, child." his voice was far from how it once sounded. The grandfatherly warmth was replaced with an ethereal greatness. The words lingered longer than they should and Lee looked on, shaken to his core. Never had he seen Ittain like this. For the first time, a power oozed from him. But then it stopped. His warmth returned with a soft smile. "I have told you to ask the right questions."

Lee took a deep breath. "Ormoneric. We have come here in a bid to return the Primordials. On the whole of Askor, only here did a Primordial return." He took another deep breath. Trying to stay calm. "You clearly... have an influence on this place." Finally, Lee dropped to one knee. "If nothing else, grant us your knowledge." Finally, he had dropped on both knees, looking down in a combination of shame and sadness.

"Your prostration is unnecessary. Continue to listen - and by the break of dawn, you too, might wield the Empyrean Flame...or more. Perhaps the last key to solving this mystery has been a...foreign perspective or peoples." Ormoneric indicated slyly. "All will be revealed...but you must listen."

He turned and began to pace in front of the totem as he carried on with his story.

"Now of course, the Primordial Lucrore rose, and due in part to the Empress' own recalcitrant nature, the exact details of their encounter remains uncertain and vague. Only through years of study, not only of these ruins, but of biographies of the Empress' companions, questioning of those who overheard her speak at opportune times, bribery in the right places, and the procurement of secret Imperial papers, have we been able to begin to glimpse what transpired. You see, Lucrore was already dying when he returned. Whether it was due to whatever happened to the other Primordials, or whether his condition was incidental, is unknown - merely that in a personal bid to defy death, he had preserved himself in slumber, here, for thousands of years - until Andromache came. And of course, Lucrore himself, as I suspect you well know, was the Primordial of Rebirth." He turned once more to Lee. "There was an altercation between the two. Now, this is the critical detail - as far as I have been able to discern, the Totem itself activated - but it was activated by Andromache's presence, not by Lucrore's evocation. Of course, Andromache then slew him, and now she possesses powers beyond mortal reckoning...So boy, I pose to you two more questions." He splayed his hands wide.

"What was the Primordial Lucrore's intent upon awakening, and what is the purpose of his totem?"

"She got the power to slay a Primordial." he recited to himself. "And it was Andromache who managed to activate the Totem." Lee rose and walked up towards the Totem. This very action made the robed figures advance a step, and Ormoneric raised a hand of warning.

"No." he said harshly. "You are wrong. Think, boy. Why would an artifact made by Lucrore grant a mortal power necessary to slay him just as he awakens? I will remind you, the Primordials were gods, but even gods can die to mortal hands - the story and blade of Halwende alone are proof enough of that. Lucrore was already dying when he arose, Andromache being able to slay him at that time, while still incred-" "Andromache is Lucrore reborn." There was no lack of arrogance in Lee's voice. He stated it like a fact. Like it was obvious.

Ormoneric raised a hand to his face is disbelief, and a number of exasperated groans arose from the assembled figures.

"...That answer is obvious, and the common pitfall of those who come to study this place." Ormoneric seethed as he lowered his hand. "False! Evidently false! Andromache is not a Primordial. While it was difficult to do, she left many samples of her body where it could be acquired by my own means - spilled blood, strings of hair, nail clippings - I studied them extensively for some time, and have witnessed some of her potential first-hand. She is no Primordial. She is no Primordial reborn. A true Primordial would eclipse Andromache in every facet of being. Your answer, while foolish, does have one implicit connotation that is accurate however." Ormoneric gestured to the totem.

"The totem was intended to be the mechanism of Lucrore's rebirth. And as demonstrated, the only requisite for its activation was a quality which Andromache's presence was sufficient to fulfill. The Fraternity of the Empyrean Flame has spent decades trying to recreate that event, oh, you cannot fathom the troubles we have gone to..." He pointed at two of the robed figures in turn. "You two. Fetch the chattel." The nodded in understanding and hurried off to a nearby side passage.

"The timing of your arrival is most fortuitous - you see, we think we have finally acquired the qualities necessary to activate the totem once more. We have only come this close once more before...and we failed...but with you here, perhaps with your foreign ways, and faith, and knowledge...perhaps..." He trailed off, staring at Lee. His eyes had gone dark, his expression one of cold calculation.

Lee remained silent. He felt as if his honor was harmed. Though in fact it was his ego. He was a prodigy back at Vallenguin. One of the youngest to be allowed outside the borders. He had found hundreds of texts. Combed through languages some would never see in their entire lives. Yet here, he was treated like a common pupil. And a foolish one at that. "It's not fair." He muttered. "They have years of research here, here. By Arreantis, if I had the time they had-"

"Your arrogance is blinding." Ittain said. "You say you do not have enough knowledge. Well then ask. Ask and ask again. Or think and think again." Lee's annoyance was evident. He did not expect to be schooled here. "You talk like you have the answers already." But Ittain just laughed. "Me? oh no, no. I know as much as you do." Strangely enough though, that was not so comforting to Lee. Who just waited for the chattel to arrive, all the while ponder the words of Ormoneric. Lucrore was weakend, but Andromache was but a child. The Totem activated because of her. What was it that made a fourteen-year-old girl do such things?

The two robes figures returned...escorting with them two bound, young girls, completely naked, neither of them older than sixteen summers. Both of them had long red hair.

"These two were...very difficult to procure, Pedagogue." One of them murmured as he shoved one of the girls to the ground at Ormoneric's feet. "As dictated, one is a virgin, one is not."

Ormoneric frowned. "I thought they were both virgins?"

"They were when we brought them here." The cultist indicated blithely.

"Ah. Of course. In any case..." He turned his gaze back to the seekers and their bodyguards.

"It only became apparent when I found the most secret of pages...thought to have been destroyed, it was only a copy perchance made by an apprentice practicing their writing found in a nameless village I was able to procure, but it gave us the answer we needed...Andromache's scar, the fact that she is barren..." He looked down at the two girls with a grim smile. "Yes...tonight is the night, I can feel it." He bent down and grasped one of the girls by the chin, examining her face.

"She's not terrified." He stated calmly. He turned back to Ittain and Lee. "To recreate the scene as accurately as possible, we have been cycling through various emotional states...terror, in hindsight, should have been obvious, but did not occur to us." Without even breaking tone, he backhanded the girl across the face, and then kicked her solidly in the side before grasping her by the hair and dragging her as she started to scream up the stairs of the dais to the base of the totem.

"Boy, come here." He indicated to Lee with a crook of his finger. "Your foolishness aside, you may be what we need - you shall be our instrument in tonight's Divine Revel."

Lee has been many things. Arrogant. Foolish. Curious. Impatient. But never was he cruel. He never had to be. Lee did not know if he had the capacity for it, when he walked towards the dias. "If the road was easy, everyone would walk it." Ittain whispered as Lee passed him. "Knowledge... requires... sacrifice." Ittain may have whispered, but it was not in his voice. It was in the voice of a ghost, or a creature not human. The old man pointed at his eyes, and a shudder went through Lee. "It was a choice?" he whispered back in disbelief. But Ittain did not answer. Lee continued to walk up the dias.Two more cultists approached with him, both of them grasping at the girl and holding her up against the totem.

Ormoneric muttered something under his breath, tracing a hand across his brow, and his form was illuminated with silver flame. "Undress." He muttered to Lee, touching his brow in turn - and Lee felt the silvery flames cross from Ormoneric's fingers to alight his own body.

He felt suffused with power - the world seemed to become smaller, darker, sharper in relief as the white flames filled his own eyes.

Looking upon the girl, he swallowed hard. He never did anything like this. He looked back to Ittain, for a moment. Fear clear across his face. "Sacrifices." the old man merely whispered.

"Madness! Barbarism!" The mercenary's officer yelled, pushing a Seeker out of the way. The cultists surrounding him started in surprise, not moving. Two others joined their superior, once again drawing weapons. "Free the girls." he ordered. The merely nodded and marched forward. They almost reached the dias, until Ittain rose and blocked their path. "My friends. Let us not soil this holy moment."

"Freaking Primordial worshiping pigs." One shouted, raising his blade. But Ittain raised his own hand. His attackers eyes burst in blue flames as strange lines of glyphs snaked out of the fire. All the while, the soldier screamed and screamed, dropping to his knees and then on his side. But he kept screaming. The cultists finally overcame their surprise and drew daggers, all of them rushing the three mercenary soldiers with snarls and looks of contempt. The soldier took his sword and tried to stab Ittain. Yet the old man simply motioned as to stop the man, and he could not move a muscle. Before the cultists could even reach Ittain's victim, he pressed his thumb on his forehead. A burning mark remained, filled with purple embers. He too dropped down and the other one finally stopped screaming. The glyphs on his body remained for a moment, before retreating into the burned out eyes. Just behind them, their officer swung his sword in menacing arcs, trying to keep the cultists at bay - but he was one, and they were many. Two of them lunged for his exposed back, slashing through his armpits and repeatedly stabbing him in the neck and back - he groaned and fell to his knees, and the rest fell upon him, their bloody work done with in a moment of rising and falling wrists, daggers glinting in the starlight as they descended, and rising with crimson dappling their lengths.

Ormoneric pushed Lee away, a faint look of disgust on his face as he watched the spectacle. "Well, this is...most ill. There will be no revel tonight. Nobody else died here that day. We shall try again at a later time." He motioned to the two cultists holding the red-haired girl down, who dragged her sobbing form away, along with the other girl, who simply continued to stare at the floor with an empty expression as she was guided back through a passage behind the pillars. As they left, Lee felt the strength of the silver flames depart his body.

Ormoneric narrowed his eyes as the cultists surrounded and starting muttering angry accusation at the two remaining mercenaries.

"You brought them into this place. You will dispose of the rest." He said icily to Ittain. "I care not how, but those two must not remain here come daybreak." He clapped his hands, and the cultists surrounding the two surviving mercenaries retreated, grudgingly.

"Wait!" Lee yelled. Clarity returning to his mind. "They must live. We will... dispose of them. And the others will be gone by daybreak." Lee marched up towards the mercenaries. Taking them both by the shoulder and walking out of the temple. He needed them to get back. They saw too much, that was true enough. He'd have to kill them, probably. But not now. No, not now.

Ittain looked upon the bodies being dragged outside by the Seekers. "Most unfortunate. Lesser religions these days. They have no insight." He offhandedly said, as if he didn't just kill two people in a manner unseen for nearly five-hundred years. Though he did turn to Ormoneric. "I'm afraid my young prodigy will demand we leave by daybreak as well. You see, we are not guests in your country. But it would seem that we do have the same goal."

"If you are worried about your documentation, some of our brothers can procure more suitable dockets for you. You are free to remain as long as you need." Ormoneric said offhandedly - though his eyes were looking through Ittain, still calculating some untold thought.

"Much obliged." Ittain said, after which he pulled out a slate of clay. Where he got it, nobody could tell. It bore no seal. On it he drew a glyph. "My prodigy, for now, will be satisfied with knowledge about Lucrore and the Empyrean Flame. So will my country and my kin." he begun. As he kept drawing the strange, glyphic circle now. "However. I am not so easily satisfied. Something had to happen here, today and that did not happen. You blame us, no doubt. And we will blame you for not telling us. Petty grievances really. But still a grievance." He handed Ormoneric the slate. "This rune will allow you to contact me. Maybe a week after it's activation. Maybe a day. Who really knows." The old man said with a comforting smile. "When you carry out your ritual, I would very much like to know how it ended." And with that the old man just wandered the hall, staying away from the Totem. Ormoneric looked between the glyph and Ittain with something approaching disappointment on his face before sighing and heading for one of the side passages. As he left, the pale flames in the sconces along the walls flickered out. In their dying light, he gazed upon the glyph once more - it appeared...hauntingly familiar. Like something, he had seen ages ago and forgotten - though he could not put his finger on it...

He shrugged as the light went out. Perhaps he would study it later when his mind was not so preoccupied.

_{Collab between me and @Terminal}