Rune_Alchemist

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

A skill Seeker
@Crimson Paladin

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“I…I see…” Enli would frown, taking Novaks words in stride. “I knew that they were after me since last night, but for such a reason…” In the old mans normally passive, more friendly expression there would be a sudden flash of anger in his tone as he’d let Novak finish saying his piece.

“I know not what they speak. Not really, but if the Illuminator said that, then its likely at least in part true…but then why go to such lengths? If it was possible, would it not be better to seek help? Maybe there was some reason he couldn’t…though I suppose there would be no helping to understand a divinities thought process.” Enli would shake his head, sighing in an exasperated manner. “Well, whatever it is,” He’d reach out, placing a hand on Novak’s shoulder. “Thank you. All of you travelers have helped greatly.”

It was then, Bolcha would walk into the longhouse, a look of concern.

“That kippoushi girl just walked back into the village with a few hunters. The people are…”

“I see. Thank you, Bolcha.” Enli would say with a nod. “If you’ll excuse me, Novak, I need to go do my job for these people.” He’d say, leaving the longhouse. Novak could probably follow if he wished. What Bolcha had described seemed to be true enough. The villagers were all still mostly crowded around the trio of hunters, loudly accusing them of not only attempting to harm their Leader, Kadisht Enli as well as conspiring to hurt the rest of them - not to mention the problems with hunting.

“What the traveler here speaks is true.” Enli’s voice would ring out over the immediate area, interrupting both the villagers as well as whatever it was Nobunaga would be doing. Considering his usual soft spoken nature, the volume with which he could speak was perhaps a bit surprising.

“The hunters of the village, have both jeopardized our relationship with the Kyrnith by actively conspiring with the Illuminator, as well as actively tried to have me killed!” He would slowly walk towards the group, each step purposeful and determined. Some of the villagers seemed surprised that Enli was speaking in such a manner. “...Honestly, I can understand why they would go to such lengths. Somewhat. I have not been a very good leader. Too passive. Trying to simply hold onto the status quo so no one is hurt, and that we can survive just a little longer.” The older man would admit with a tired, but determined expression.

“But I can no longer sit idly by and watch our village wither. In the coming days I will see to it that we will do more than survive! I have spoken with the Kyrnith itself, thanks to these travelers.” He would proclaim, breathing in. “And we have earned not only its respect and trust, for now, it has agreed to help. As for these hunters - though their actions may have been motivated by good intentions, it is not good intentions that can justify actions.” He would walk to the hunters, stopping in front of each - and looking at them right in the eye as he would make his next proclamation.

“I should have them killed, as they tried to have me killed. Exiled at best…but I can not allow myself to stoop to such levels. If we are to build a better future for ourselves, then we need to do so together. For now - I want them imprisoned until we have a better handle on what the others are doing. Can I trust you and your companions with that for now, Kippoushi?“

Misaki and Narkissa

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@Click This@PKMNB0Y

“Mhm, no they aren’t.” Lazhira would respond with a frown. “Something odd happened with the Obelisk earlier. A lot of light and I thought I saw a door? I’m not sure, but I thought I saw some people here earlier…” She’d shake her head, not entirely sure what to say or do. “I was just curious about what was going on with the Obelisk and when we got here…” She’d look over to the hunters that were quickly setting up a number of traps, as well as ambush points around the Obelisk. Seemed like Soyala was starting to get a bit impatient, too.

“I think they’re planning to ambush something, but I don’t know…?”

A Traveler
@PaulHaynek

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The bushes weren’t anything alien. Probably similar to kinds he’d have run into on earth, if he had ever spent any length of time outside. Green leaves, gently covered in snow with dozens of berries on each. Roughly oval shaped, with a tough red looking skin and about the size of a grape. Considering their purposeful positioning here, they were likely safe to eat and were used for food.

It was then, as he was observing the bushes, he’d hear the light creak of wood, the door opening ajar just slightly. Since it opened in the direction of the bushes were, he could just make out who this little red riding hood was. Long locks of snow white hair fell from her head, and under the cloak itself it looked like she was wearing a coat with fur trimming. Her face was hidden by the fur trimmed hood, allowing him to only make out two light colored eyes.

“...If its just a rest…okay then.” She’d say, scrunching her nose. Her words were soft, but firm and certain. Curiously, it seemed like there were two small protrusions from the top of her head hidden by the hood. She’d open the door just slightly, letting Nicholas inside.

Assuming he’d do as he’d asked, the inside of the apparently single room cabin was well, cozy if nothing else. Warm from the fire crackling away in the fireplace, his body would probably be grateful for the warmth. A closet made of wood, a table for eating and other things. A bed, made of a wooden frame and animal furs. Over the admittedly rather large fireplace was a large cauldron, bubbling away at something. A rug made of animal fur covered the area near the bed, though part of the corner of it was folded over.

“...uhm, take a seat…if you need to rest. I was making some food.”

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Send Feet Pics
@Cu Chulainn

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“A concealed weapon, hmm?” Mie would hum thoughtfully. “Well, you’re in luck. I happen to have quite a number of weapons that are a bit more…discreet.” She’d smirk, holding a hand to her chin as she’d consider the weapon choices she’d have available. “In fact…I think I know juuuust the thing, if you don’t mind a little…well, flamboyance. Stay here for a moment.” She’d run off somewhere, leaving Nomura in the small arena for a few seconds by himself, though it would not be long before she’d return with a…flute?

“Here we go,” She’d hand it to Nomura. “Not a cane, but I think this works nicely. A seemingly normal flute. Its made of a sturdy plant, at least, that’s what it initially looks like. Go on, give it a little try.” She’d say, and if he did he’d certainly be met with a sound of something that sounded exactly as one would expect a flute too. The only problem was, that it was fairly heavy for being made of a plant and it didn’t exactly feel much like a plant, either. More manufactured - something attempting to imitate something. There was also what was a small thing that seemed to be a button near the mouthpiece.

“And see that little button? Go on, press it. But watch your hands.” Supposing he did, there was the sound of something metal being released, and out from the end where the air was released on the opposite end, about a foot long metal blade would shoot out from the end of it.It was thin, sharp, and pointy. A bit like a rapier, perhaps though with its edges sharp and made specifically for stabbing. “A little something I made myself for more…discreet dealings.” She’d chuckle. “Works best if you actually know how to play though. Still, its reinforced with ore from the mines and surprisingly sturdy. Probably won’t do much against armor, but if you’re fighting armored opponents then you’ve already messed up heh. Its easy enough to put away, too. After its extended, there’s a little lip on the underside of it that is normally disguised as part of the mouthpiece you just pull until you hear a little click.”

The Roma Mob
@ERode

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Demons and Elves

Red. Half his vision was dyed in red, a sanguine tinge coloring his world. A world that pulsated with the erratic throbbing of his head. Something had cracked inside, something that caused him to bite back the bile that threatened to rise. First time for everything. Hurt more than getting hit by a car. But he’d have to give the Storyteller some props. He could still hear, could still feel, could still stand. And with all these things together, Isidore could still fight.

Now wouldn’t it be impressive, that he found the source of the silkweaver eradication within the very first day?

Pushing his head away from the tree root he had smashed into, Isidore righted himself in a sudden, jerking movement. He pressed his thumb against the side of his nostril, righting the broken nose before snorting out a stream of coagulating blood. Every breath he took brought in the sting of iron, and he had lost most of his equipment in yards that he had bounced, rolled, and skid against. A shame about the lantern. Bought the thing and now he couldn’t even use it. Would have to ask for another timepiece too. Halberd was still lying on the ground beside the horned lady; he had only been leaning it against his body when the lightning, the woman, struck. The dagger still lay in his belt.

Isidore clenched his fists, raising them up to either side of his head. His body hunched down, sinking into his form as his knees bent. Blood sheared to flame as his heart roared to life with but a spark of lightning, his vision clearing away. A corner of his lips twisted upwards. Terrible abominations that made him question the sanity of the gods, followed by enough beauty to cause heart palpitations.

“Octavia, run for a healer.”

He’d have to be careful. This world was doing a lot to raise his standards.

Octavia would whine, looking between Isidore and the demoness in front of him. Healer? For where would one find a healer here, in the depths of proverbial hell? Well, perhaps the hound could pull off a miracle. The demonic hound, would thus, obey Isidore’s orders, bolting from the scene of the conflict.

There was nothing else to be said by the demoness. Giving Isidore enough time to issue a simple command was about as much time as she was going to give Isidore. She’d close the distance, crimson lightning trailing behind her, crackling with each step…but she was however, noticeably not as swift as Sorcha was.

She was however, just a smidge faster than him it seemed.

The demon would begin simply. An uppercut aimed for his chin, energy crackling along her fist.

A smidge faster was a negligible difference. As she closed in, Isidore stepped back, her fist striking air as his own flickered out into a straight jab, aimed for her face.

Nothing powerful, nothing decisive. Only a swift blow to gauge distance.

A missed blow for a missed blow.

The demoness’ would weave just slightly to the side, using the momentum to transition into a spin and low aimed spinning hook kick, the heel of her foot slamming into Isidore’s side. Felt like the kick had broken something else, just from the impact alone. It was a good thing, at least, that his armor would reduce damage he took after the first blow, then.

It hurt, but only from a distance. Adrenaline suppressed pain, something he’d suffer the consequences of after the fight ended. But for now, Isidore only let out a grunt escape, crumbling to the side as his elbow locked her foot between his arm and his side. Her ankle locked, he twisted around and swung her towards the roots she had sent him flying towards moments before.

She was surprisingly light, and it was easy enough to grab the Demoness. What wasn’t so easy, however, was the constant sparks of electricity that was now burning him again. Every time this demoness seemed to make contact, that same red electricity would cause severe burns, and more seeming disintegration of his skin.

It was a good thing he could deflect this energy, otherwise it’d probably be affecting him even worse.

She was swung, and this time it was the demoness who would be slammed into the roots. There was a resounding wooden thump as her body would hit it.

Following through with the momentum of his throw, Isidore dashed in while she was still suspended by the roots. Sparks ignited at his right elbow, before blooming into a jet of flame that propelled his fist with ever greater speed as he delivered a haymaker right for her stomach.

A fiery fist would careen towards the demoness. There was the definitive sound of impact, a quiet grunt as the fist would meet its target.

“...heh!” And then a laugh. Her hand would grab his wrist. There was a flash of crimson lightning, the roots immediately in their vicinity completely disintegrating leaving nothing behind but rectangular cuts at their tips. “I don’t know what you’re made of human, but you sure are tough. And that, hurt. Just a bit. I’m impressed.” Despite her words, Isidore would find her hand grabbing him by the back of his head, pulling him downwards and slamming his face into her knee.

She’d keep a firm grip on the back of his head, forcing him into a kneeling position as she’d slam her foot into his knee.

“Haaa, still….” She’d slowly open and close one of her fists, hands shaking slightly. “Not…enough. And its pissing me off more. So I’m…going to find out what you are made of,” She’d give Isidore an unsettling grin. “Lets start with figure out what these scales of yours are.”

Pain.

Isidore’s entire world would then be awash with pain as that crimson lightning from earlier began eating away at his armor and his flesh, first by slowly, small centimeter at a time stripping away his armor then by immediately dissolving the flesh under it. The same crimson lightning that he now had inside of him - if this continued, this was not going to end well for him.

“Do…I still…look human?”

Bathed in lightning, carapace crumbling, flesh disintegrating, and his face a mask of blood from the nose that was broken twice over, Isidore spat out his own words even as his left leg trembled beneath him, still shaking from the low kick she had delivered. A difference in durability persisted, a difference in striking force, one that could not yet be bridged by divine gifts. The realm of true superhuman capabilities exceeded him. Perhaps if all this had been delayed by even a single day, a single night, a single conversation, he’d have a clue as to how to surpass the limits of this inhuman body of his.

But for now, he had to survive.

So for now, he had to risk demise.

All of creation was a craft of magic. All demons possessed magic potent enough to make them whole even after death. Through spellwork, one could manifest materials out of the thin air. And now, just recently, this demoness showed that this methodology was a cycle. From physical to magical to physical once more, all whilst maintaining the mind, the soul from which such magic was born. Theory, hammering into his thoughts over and over again, the basis of his understanding of magic clarified by the words of one of the greatest mages within this nebulous world.

As disintegrating lightning broke through crystallized darkness, snaking into flesh and tearing bloody gashes into his body, Isidore redirected them one step deeper with the power that he had already wrested from the demoness’s grasp, pulling in as much fuel as he could for what he was about to attempt.

Was he ore, value found only after been tossed into the crucible? Or was he coal, naught more than a piece to be consumed for greater designs?

Scarlet lightning, his lightning, surged outwards to shroud his entirety, and with a singular mindset, Isidore forced his entirety to go into the depths of the earth.

…

Perhaps nothing had changed after all. Only in death would he accept his limits.

Crimson lightning filled the area, wildly sparking and arcing to the nearest physical object it could find as it disliked being in the air itself. The demons, solely focused on Isidore. Bit by bit, Isidore’s body began to look more dead than alive, skin having already completely been sheared from his forearms, most of his neck and face, and it was slowly spreading further. Not even his burning blood seemed to deter this demon - perhaps, it was to be expected here in such a fiery place.

It was a feat in and of itself he hadn’t passed out from the sheer pain, but even if his body wasn’t superhuman yet, it was enough, it seemed to allow him to survive.

“What-oh you clever bastard-”

He could vaguely hear the demoness’ words over the crackling electricity and his own throbbing, burning blood. More of the crimson lightning would come to rest within his body, blitzing about and running wildly within. He couldn’t hold this much for long, he had to give it purpose, and purpose he did. Isidore suffused himself with the crimson lightning within, and with it, the feeling of his entire body disintegrating - but it wasn’t from the demoness’ abilities this time.

Suddenly he’d feel his body jerk downwards, as is pulled by something into the ground. Sheer agony followed, his vision fading but it wasn’t anything he could control. What exactly was he doing? It was feeling more instinct than anything at the moment with such little control he had over what was happening. Was he moving? In fact, he could barely think, barely do anything.

….

What seemed like a number of hours to Isidore, as he would attempt re-constructing his body, would in reality be mere seconds. A crackle of energy, and he’d suddenly feel himself being pulled upwards. The agony of quite literally ripping himself apart would slowly fade back into the familiar pain of his injured flesh. Piece by piece the crimson lightning restructuring his body near his goal - not exactly near it, but behind the demoness nonetheless. He’d need to work on precision, but he had done it. He was out of breath, his body’s stamina failing him, and everything quite literally, hurt to even think about.

But would he go for another blow?

Somehow, he had lived.

Somehow, he had killed himself and was reborn. Still tenuous. Still fractured. Still bleeding and burning, his heart threatening to burst, his lungs threatening to collapse. All his injuries compounding until he could hardly stand on his own feet, his injured leg trembling with the mere effort of holding up his weight. If he had been closer, perhaps he would have tried for a final knockout blow, but at this distance…

Isidore let out a breath, raising his fists up to guard his head, bending his legs to prepare for sudden movements. Whether experienced gangster or fledgling fighter, whether surrounded by your underlings or alone with your foe, there was one thing that never changed.

You gotta look tough, don’tcha?

He spat fiery blood out and fashioned a dogged grin with his stained teeth, dark eyes glimmering in the firelight of his injuries. “Well?” Isidore stood, mind cool and body hot. “What’s next, pretty lady?”

“...heh. Oh, oh, ahahah!” The demoness would laugh in response, not seeming entirely all there in the head at the moment as she’d turn to face her opponent, taking a step towards him. “Aaaah, maybe instead of turning you to a red smear, I should just take you home, ahahah!” The cavalier attitude showed if nothing else she wasn’t the least little concerned and likely could indeed, do just that if she wanted.

Despite her words though, she had no intention of letting Isidore leave here alive. Red energy coursed through her hands.

“Fine. Fine! FINE! I’ll turn you and this entire forest to dust!” The crimson lightning began leaping from her, into the ground, crushing and causing it to buckle and crumble and crack under her feet. Into the roots, blasting them into dust, towards Isidore once more to rip him into pieces. The demoness would raise one of her legs -

“Guh-huh!?”

Before she could finish whatever it is she was charging though, a vine would wrap around the demoness’ neck, pulling her backwards and off balance! Isidore would watch as Octavia would use the vines to pull herself up to the demons head, wrapping them tightly around her neck while her mouth would bite and tear at her head, paws clawing and ripping into her shoulders.

“Human, get behind something!”

A voice, coming from behind him. It seemed Octavia had returned, and perhaps, with help this time. A build up of magical energy could be felt, but it was hard for him to place in his injured state.

If the demoness had continued with her dialogue, he would drag it out until he could figure out how to heal himself. If the demoness had charged in once more, he would empty his entire deck of tricks and go for a cross counter to knock her out. And if she flew into a rage…

…he’d rely on the constantly increasing capabilities of his blackened armor to give him the time to absorb the entirety of her magic and blast her to smithereens.

But for all his predictions and all his simulations, Isidore hadn’t honestly expected Octavia to return with help. Two immortal creatures, grappling each other. Immense magic power building up behind him. Anomalies everywhere, threatening to snap the last bits of rational thought that kept him conscious.

And here Isidore thought that a six hour ‘shift’ would be just him easing himself back into work.

Drawing in the last licks of broiling flame within his core, the dark-haired youth slammed his fists into the ground and raised a wall of molten steel, just high enough that he could duck beneath. Anything that happened after, he would have to leave to his unknown savior.

The wall of steel would raise, just high enough to lay against, molten and malleable, not quite hardened. Intense heat, but enough to serve as a shield against whatever was about to do.

The demoness reached behind her, grappling the hound who would growl, roots wrapping around her neck and eyes, preventing her from seeing and occupying her attention…not that Octavia could keep her attention for long.

“Dumb-” The demon grabbed Octavia by the neck. There was a pained whine. “-Bitch-get-off!” She’d wrench the mutt from her body, grabbing the mutt by either side of its mouth where she’d start pulling. Octavia’s body creaked, her paws scrabbling for purchase as the demon would slowly start tearing the poor hound in half.

It was hard to see what was happening, but he could hear someone. A flash of blue in his vision, a stream of energy would fly right over his head.

“Rest for now by the light of this star, demon!.”

The voice would cause the demoness to turn towards it, eyes burning with boiling rage - but she could say not a word. The arrow was loosed from the bow, the light at the arrows tip would coalesce into a single point. Faster than the eye could see, the arrow would arc towards the demon in a straight line. A surge of divine, bluish white energy behind it would blast towards the demon, cutting a straight line into the earth as though it was indeed, a falling star slamming into the ground.

Octavia would use one of her roots to uppercut the demon right in the face, causing her to lose grip on her right before the arrow would impact her. She’d give a pained grunt, but it was soon drowned out by the surge of divine energy trailing behind the arrow as it bore through the earth and the demon herself.

When the dust settled, there was seemingly nothing even left of her.

“On your feet, we have about three minutes before she resurrects herself. A surprise trick like that isn’t going to work again. And trust me, we don’t have the fire power right now to put her down for any length of time. I’ve tried.” It was…an elf? Maybe one of the Shadow but his skin was less pale and more dark. In his hands was a well crafted wooden bow, on his hip was a quiver full of arrows and a…stone sword? Well, it looked like a fairly standard sword, if somewhat on the bigger side. It was currently sheathed in a scabbard the only real visible part of it was its hilt - where a sapphire had been embedded in the pommel and the crossguard had a small engraving of a moon on it. At least it’d leave no doubt to whatever goddess this elf prayed too. He was wearing a fairly simple, if color garb of red, gold, and black with eyes of blue.

“...you can stand, right? I’m honestly impressed your even still breathing with half your skin missing.”

Isidore grit his teeth, pushing himself up. From the outside, he probably did look like a mess, and now that he could probably look around his body, he realized that the rags he wore really couldn’t even be called rags anymore. It was a heads up decision, keeping his cloak back in the palace suite. Anything else though…

“Half my skin? Better than expected.” Blood trickled down one eye and he closed it, quelling the excitement of his heart and feeling the crushing fatigue, the breathlessness that followed. He’ll recover though. His waterskin hadn’t burst, and he glugged down the rest of its contents before picking up his halberd again. It was heavier in his hands now, almost unwieldy, but as a crutch it would do. Octavia was alive too, and they had a whole three minutes to make themselves scarce before that demoness would rebirth herself from literally nothing.

He could understand a bit, why everyone hated them. He’d hate a species that didn’t follow the laws of nature too. “I’m headed for Gloomhaven. Can we make it?”

“Gloomhaven?” The elf responded thoughtfully, a curious tone carried across his voice. “...hm, perhaps are you…? Mhm, no time for chatter.” He’d keep his bow in hand, looking to where the demoness had previously been standing, little more than a crater left at the scene - but the red energy was starting to frantically spark about the ground, as if trying to move somewhere.

“We can. Once we get out of the forest, I doubt she’ll give chase. Her nature is fueled by the Blood of the old demon god so she’ll likely rampage in the area for awhile, killing anything she can get her hands on. I’ll be surprised if there is even a forest left, considering how powerful she is…” Octavia would walk over, seeming a bit none worse for wear at the moment, though the roots which had come from her feet seemed withered and burnt. “I’ll escort you back to the cavern at least, but after that you’ll be on your own. I have my own business to take care of in Naraheim.”

“Explain in detail,” Isidore responded as he began to jog away. “And call me Isidore. Was hired to see where the silkweavers went. Saw any?”

“We don’t have the luxury of detail.” The swarthy elf replied, moving after Isidore. “I’ll explain what I can once we’re out of the forest, but don’t expect much.” For most of the initial part of the trek, he’d be silent, attentively listening to their surroundings no doubt listening and feeling for any sign of the demoness.

And just as he’d have estimated, from within the forest as they’d reach the edge, they’d hear a blood curdling, bestial roar from within accompanied by a large flash of crimson lightning, the sound of destruction and what was likely the demon rampaging within.

“...should be safe enough here.” He would eventually say, once they had reached the edge, close to the area where Isidore had dealt with the hounds and the hunter earlier. “Now to answer your questions…Silk weavers. If you mean the creatures that eat flesh and produce extremely durable silk, then yes. You’ll likely find them near their primary habitat towards the roots of the great tree.” It looked like for a moment he wanted to say more, but would move to Isidore's other question.

“As for the other thing…demons are divided into five different clans based on their Origin. The Demons of Naraheim were formed when they crawled out of the old Demon Gods blood. As a result, they’re…well, vicious, violent and tend towards extremely bestial tendencies. Their blood, conversely, is also an extremely potent magical medium, which is why they possess extreme physical regeneration. They use their own blood to fuel any magical spells they wish with almost zero ill side effects and they can also use their own blood to replenish any lost that they had, effectively almost creating a loop of near infinite magical energy.” He’d sigh, though his mouth would turn into a smirk.

“Almost. Its not a completely perfect process, even if its near perfect. Eventually they’d run out of steam. The best tactic when fighting them is to make it so they can’t regenerate…or simply outlast their regenerative abilities, if you can stand it. The one we just fought though…I’ve ran into her a few times since I arrived here a few days ago, and I can only conclude one thing - she’s one of the seventy two arch demons and as things stand, fighting her without a solid plan of some sort is just going to end with everyone being smeared into the ground as a bloody stain.” Whoever this guy was, he seemed extremely knowledgeable about demons.

And that made him valuable, doubly so because he seemed staunchly on the side of killing demons, rather than researching them. Chewing on some of the dried food he brought along with him, Isidore recalled the demoness’s seeming resilience to fire, and concluded that dunking her in a magma bath wouldn’t work out too well. Infinite magic, infinite regeneration, and the status of being the big boss of demons, who nevertheless had no mercy for her own kind. But more importantly…

“So that place wasn’t the roots of the great tree.”

“No, they are. All these roots belong to it…or used to be, but that’s neither here nor there. If you’re looking for the silk weavers, they used to be here, but since that demon started rampaging around, she’s destroyed a number of nests. Probably tried eating her. Not a good idea.” He’d sling his bow across his shoulders, glancing towards the burned city in the distance with a seeming impatient huff.

“I’m sure you can get back from here. My goal lies in the opposite direction.” He’d start to walk off, and assuming Isidore didn’t stop him he’d not say another word.

“Got a name?”

“Vikas, though we probably won’t be meeting each other again. I only helped this time because someone asked me to.” He’d rather cryptically state, though he’d not mention any more than that.

“World’s a small place,” Isidore replied. “See you around.”

And with that, he walked off. Some healing and a nice long bath would do much to make him feel civilized again. After that? Well, there were business dealings and late night rendezvous to get to. Time didn’t wait even when Isidore felt like he was hit by a truck, after all.

Ah, right.

“Gotta get you something fancy too, don’t I?”

Octavia would bark affirmatively at Isidore’s question, seemingly agreeing that yes, she did indeed deserve something fancy.

Getting back to Gloomhollow wasn’t all that hard, compared to fighting an apparent Arch-demon at least. His body was still aching, and he was starting to feel a bit light headed from all the blood he was losing. At least, maybe, it was starting to get a bit more bearable by the time he’d make his way from the hot depths of the world towards the cooler caverns of Gloomhollow.

Goddess note

Skill Acquired: Pain Tolerance (lesser)
A skill denoting ones remarkable ability to withstand pain of all kinds. Doesn’t confer any bonuses or otherwise increase ones defensive abilities, but it allows one to simply shrug off blows that would otherwise cripple other men and power through certain things.

Understandably, his appearance would cause quite the commotion as he’d approach the gate. The Shadow elves were quite perturbed by both him, thinking he was some sort of demon at his appearance at first, and then extremely worried about by what in the name of the Goddess could hurt him in such a fashion and in such precision.

Regardless of his answers to their queries, he’d eventually be pointed towards the location of the Temple, if he didn’t want to go to Rullphana for treatment. Not many Shadow Elves actively worshipped the moon or revered the sage as the dwarves warrior poets did, but it was still customary for the Temple to handle such affairs.

Supposing he’d take them up on that offer, Octavia would trod along happily next to Isidore, seemingly satisfied with her various meals in Naraheim for the moment and it wouldn’t be long before he’d find his destination. A bit far from the palace, towards the underground lake was a fairly ornate looking stone building carved into the earth. A garden of various plants and fungi surrounded it.

The interior was as one would expect of a church or religious place of worship. There weren’t any pews to sit upon, and the only source of light in the place was a chandelier over a reflecting pool that served as the centerpiece of the room. A small altar sat beyond, flanked by a few shelves. He wouldn’t get very long to be able to observe though, as he would soon be confronted by another elf.

Her skin was of a paler shade compared to the usual more grey tone the others had. She was wearing a rather elaborate piece of clothing, sporting white and black colorations, a dark blue shawl draped across her shoulders. A staff that was crowned with an almost closed circle with points on the inside edge of it was held in her hands.

“...a demon? What is a demon doing here?” Seemed his appearance might have given her the wrong idea. “Well, I don’t care why you’re here, but if you could stop bleeding on the carpet, that’d be lovely.”

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@Pyromania99

Trainig arc pt 2

“Such a vague goal…” Rullphana would say with a click of her tongue. “You should fix that sooner rather than later. Magic is in part, the users own willpower and reality manifest. Without a clear goal or direction, your magic will never be anything to speak of. Keep your expectations grounded, too. Unrivaled in power is far too childish and likely fairly uncommon.” Well, if nothing else she was sounding definitely like a teacher scolding a pupil now. “Not that magic isn’t a path to such things, but such a path starts with a small step - a goal driving you.”

She would open the door at the top of the stairs now, entering into the room beyond as the wall would close behind the pair, sealing the room from intruders. The room was a bit smaller than the one below, the mushroom a bit thinner in this area but still large enough to be what was obviously a training room. A large, open space covered in what appeared to be wooden floors, magical light in lamps lighting the room.

“But I suppose lightning is simple enough to work with.” The Shadow Elf would hold out a open hand towards Augusta, letting electricity crackle across her fingertips. “I am certain you would be able to do that yourself with enough thinking, allow me to offer some guidance anyways.” The lightning would crackle upwards, striking the ceiling with a peal of electrical whirr.

“Now tell me, when you think of lightning, what do you think of?” She’d ask.

Willpower, reality manifest. Yes, she had assumed something to that extent but she was glad to get confirmation. “I find that sometimes, you set your aim for a lofty goal and then work to that through smaller goals. It’s not too different of a view.” Augusta mentioned as she followed her current teacher through the door into this new room. It was pretty much a training room. Perhaps Rullphana would allow her to come here and practice at any time.

That aside, Rullphana gave her an example of lightning striking the ceiling after letting it course over her fingers. “What do I think?” There were a few things that came to mind. “Coursing electricity. The sound of thunder that follows. Coi–” No, those probably didn’t belong in this world, did it? “How fast it comes and goes, I suppose. Fire, as well.” Augusta would mention, thinking about how Lightning could cause a fire.

“Hmm…that viewpoint perhaps, isn’t entirely incorrect I suppose.” She’d frown, commenting with a thoughtful hum. “But you still need to keep it grounded in reality. As much as you may desire it, ‘Unrivaled Power’ is too vague. To whom, is it overwhelming? Mortals? Gods? There is always someone stronger than you, Augusta, and there always will be.” She’d move across the room, telling Augusta to stay put as she’d stand opposite end of the room.

“Moving on though, I can understand why you think they are similar. Fire and Lightning are both energy - but fire is also Warmth. Life. The humans and people above would not be able to live without it. Lightning however, is…destruction and power. Its power is great, but its lifespan is short, only existing for short bursts. It dislikes being contained, and it always desires to move from point A to point B, and will do so given the chance. Fire is merely a result of this great energy hitting a target. A byproduct. Now then, remove thunder and fire from the equation. Now, I ask again. What. Is. Lightning? Less physical explanations. What does Lightning mean to you?”

"It's just electrical discharge? It can be destructive but it has other uses as well…" Augusta started to say, crossing her arms. "It can be destructive or useful depending. Zap someone to stop their heart or give someone whose heart has stopped just enough of a shock to restart it." The woman sighed a small bit. "Lightning itself tends more towards destructive than useful I suppose."

“...still quite the…realistic response. I suppose that may be just the type of person you are. Since you’re a Sirithen, I shouldn’t be surprised by your lack of…imagination.” Rullphana would smirk lightly. “Very well then, in times like this the pupil learns best by doing and seeing. So, Augusta,” Lightning would crackle across her fingertips. “In that case, you will get intimately familiar with lightning. That is to say, you will learn to defend against it as well as use it or you will get hurt.”
As she’d finish saying that, a bolt of lightning from her raised hand would blast across the room towards Augusta.

Augusta expected as much. After that brutal session with Sorcha earlier, she almost wondered if she'd be forced through such a thing with this powerful mage. The woman wasn't intimate with electricity but knew that lightning was supposed to be negatively charged and she had wondered if that was the same with magic.

Well, not that she had much time to think that far. As soon as she saw the crackling in Rullphana's fingers, she started to raise a magic barrier and tried to add a small positively charge property to it. Though she wasn't the most confident in that. Hopefully she'd weaken the blow she did take.

Augusta would attempt making a barrier, the air in front of her shimmering for a brief second. The bolt of lightning would be absorbed into it, crackling around the barrier in front of her before losing its energy entirely and fading.

“Ah, yes…a ward, is it? And…you…made it function as a lightning rod.” Rullphana would respond. “A fair move, and would indeed, function well against other lightning based attacks so long as the barrier was not overloaded. However - that does not solve the issue you have.” She’d inform Augusta.

“Again.” Another bolt of lightning would soon follow. “If you wish to tame lightning, you must first experience it and learn it. A mage will never learn properly without exposing themselves to danger.”

"Why are my teachers so insistent on putting me within an inch of death…" Augusta muttered ever so slightly as Rullphana started her lecturing… Before firing off another bolt of lightning. Augusta applied a small positively charged ward to her hand to dissipate the attack a small bit. Not enough to stop it outright but it was better for her hand to take than her chest.

She raised that hand and blocked the bolt. It hit but she didn't feel anything major at first. Until it ate through the little ward she allowed herself. The shock rang through her body. Her nerves felt like they were vibrating and about to melt. Now… it didn't seem to matter where she were hit. Her fingers were not listening to her commands nor were her toes.

In an attempt to stop the internal fuzziness, Augusta attempted to redirect all of the extra electricity out of her body with magic, redirecting it back out her fingers toward, really, anything.

The bolt of lightning would streak through the air, slamming into Augusta’s ‘barrier’ though, it was far less a barrier and more of a sort of cloud of gas. It would thump into it, before it would meet Augusta’s fingers. The shock was well, as expected, painful. Every nerve on her hand would light up with pain, but, it likely wasn’t as painful as it could be. The energy would attempt to find some way out of her body, but it didn’t seem like it would just go back out the way it came - pushing it back out that way seemed hard, like shoving something through a clogged faucet or hose.

Fine, if it was going to be that way, Augusta used magic to force a circuit of sorts in her body toward her other hand. She clenched her teeth together as she internally forced the energy to cross her shoulders and down her other arm and out her fingers.

The energy would course through her body, prickling her skin and creating a painful flow through her body as it raced from her shoulder, to the other, and then back down her other arm. A bit like a river or other current. It was…powerful, like nothing she’d have ever felt before. Purposeful. Swift, and destructive. If she had lost focus even for a second there was a very high chance she’d hurt herself as she guided it through her until it reached her other hand…where a shower of sparks would escape.

“Well, you’ve learned a simple trick to prevent yourself from being hurt, I suppose.” Rullphana would say. Indeed, perhaps she could use this trick with other sources of magic.

Goddess Note

Skill Acquired: Mana Redirect

A skill allowing one to redirect magical energy tossed at them from any supernatural source. Rather than absorbing and meshing it with your own, you redirect it to some other purpose, thus weakening its effects upon you as you turn it towards something else. Generally, this will work with everything but some sources of energy would be far too strong to completely deflect, and some are easier to work with then others.

“However…redirecting it only leaves one with half the picture. Unless you are ready to attempt making it yourself? You’re clever Augusta, surely you can do it without any more guidance. Think again about what lightning is, what you felt when you directed it elsewhere. Try to recreate that feeling. Alternatively, if you are intent on the more grounded aspects of it, that is still an option I suppose. Either way, now try.”

"Still hurts a bit." Augusta mentioned, her fingers still a small bit tingly. She did seem to get a new skill, though, so that was good. "Try to recreate?" Augusta questioned, looking down at her fingers. Perhaps she would try both the way Rullphana wanted her to and her own way.

"Let's try the way you suggest. A raging storm bottled in my fingertips." She thought of Rullphana's words from earlier. Fleeting destruction, moving from point A to B in the blink of an eye before disappearing from the face of the world. The image of a bolt striking the ground flashed in her mind as she intended her Magic to produce the same result.

“Pain is nothing more than a side effect of learning.” Rullphana would assert, as Augusta would move to start recreating a bolt of lightning. She could feel energy gathering in her body, though without some sort of focusing point for it it seemed…distant, fleeting.

“Good, good - but all power must originate from somewhere. Your heart? Lungs? Stomach? Tongue? Or that-ahem-those eyes of yours? Focus from there, and bring it out.”

Augusta narrowed her eyes in Rullphana. When she mentioned eyes. She wanted to question her then and now but now wasn't the time. Really, it just made her curious. Curious and slightly worried about how the woman knew.

"Fine my 'eyes' it is." Augusta mentioned in a slightly annoyed tone. She did as Rullphana mentioned and focused from her eyes. As if she were collecting her power from the Eye of the Goddess to fuel her magic allowing it to flow to her fingertips so she would fire off a bolt of electricity towards Rullphana.

Augusta could feel…something, change. Just ever so slightly. The energy she was directing before seemed more focused and as she’d point her hand at Rullphana she could feel it. It would happen in a flash. In little more than a millisecond, not even long enough for her to process. Electricity would arc from her eye, coursing down through her arm and then out her hand.

A bolt of lightning raced towards Rullphana.

The Shadow elf would merely raise her own hand, a smirk as the bolt of lightning would harmlessly impact a seemingly invisible barrier.

“See? That wasn’t so hard. though a bolt of lightning or a fireball is the most basic of basic things a mage can accomplish.”

"Most basics of basics..?" Augusta questioned, using the same focus method to make as many of those flame lances she was familiar with as she could sustain at once. "So, what do you know?"

She asked, not stating exactly she was talking about, but it should be obvious to Rullphana she was talking about the eye comment. Of course, she was expecting the senior mage to play coy with her.

The fire would shape itself into Lances, hovering around her and ready to fire off at anyone that Augusta wanted.

“Hm? Know? More than you do, that’s for certain.” Rullphana replied coyly, a smirk forming her her features. “But…perhaps I could extend to you more lessons. A bit more…secretive lessons and knowledge, if you desire it.” She was telling the truth, that much Augusta could tell from her eye. She would be willing. “In return for…hm, lets say, a little help in a certain matter?”

Augusta kept five of her magical lances in the air fairly easily. She started to play with them a small bit, moving them to and fro to practice her control a bit. "I'm not a believer of agreeing to help on cryptic matters, my dear teacher." Augusta mentioned, eying Rullphana with some small part of suspicious. And a small bit of curiosity.

“Cryptic? Please, my dear student, its less cryptic and more…discretion.” Rullphana would respond, eyeing those five lances curiously, spinning as they lazily floated through the air. It wasn’t hard to control them, after all, they already clearly moved easily enough. “Then let me ask you something - you want to know more about demons, do you not?”

"Demons? I do want to know about them as a matter of interest. But if the matter of the favor has to do with Octavia I'll politely deny now." Augusta mentioned, twirling her magic around like a toy, feeling comfortable with controlling it. "What are you wanting? Demons hunted? Capture them?" Augusta didn't seem too enthusiastic about the idea. As interested as she was, unless Rullphana had some magic ritual or rite to bind Octavia to her commands instead of that flower demon… Would she be very interested?

“Then we are of the same mindset.” She’d respond with a smile. “Intriguing, aren’t they? Strong. Talented with magical abilities…immortal. It is my desire to know everything about them. Every little trick, every little history of theirs, ability…so we can better protect the queen dearest, of course.” Rullphana would smile. A small note would tell her she was definitely being dishonest about something, but it didn’t give specifics.

Whatever Rullphana really meant, Augusta didn't like it. "Of course." Augusta replied with a small sigh. "What exactly do you want then?" The woman asked, dispelling her magic. She was sure that the woman was being dishonest about protecting the queen, or at least, learning the knowledge for that end. "A foot massage?" A mocking tone hung on the last words for if that were the case.

“A foot massage? Ahaha, and if I were to take you up on that offer, would you?” Rullphana would ask with a fairly serious tone. “But no…simply put, I would like you to look into something in old Naraheim for me. My duties keep me fairly busy, and teaching Leuca is going to take up even more of my time. I ask this because of personal interest, mostly, but also - seeing demons yourself and what they are like would be good for you, I think.”

As a response to the foot massage question, Augusta merely shrugged. If she got something worthwhile out of it? Probably, but it would be difficult to admit it.

She listened on to the Shadow Elf's request. Going to old Naraheim. Seeing demons firsthand. It sounded interesting. That left a question for her though. "What's this old Naraheim? I don't believe I've heard of it."

“Haa, you run around with one of them yet don’t even know where they’re from…” Rullphana would sigh lightly. “Old Naraheim is well…the old home of demons. Well, a particular clan of them anyways. Those born from the burning Blood of the old demon god. There used to be clans that inhabit other places, or so my research tells me, but…i’ve yet to find where any of them are. Regardless, its likely also the Origin for that pup of yours. You could very well also find something you’re looking for there.”

"Old home of the demons?" Augusta repeated as she listened to Rullphana's explanation. Burning blood of the demon God. Clans… She definitely remembered seeing such a thing in Octavia's status window. "So you want me to travel to the home of demons. Sounds dangerous."

The woman didn't really sound too threatened really. And she couldn't deny that she was heavily interested in going. It was something else to learn about after all. Knowledge was on of the best advantages one could have. "Would I be looking forward to constant demon attacks? And what do you mean by 'something you're looking for" exactly?"

“Who knows,” Rullphana replied with a smile. “I’m certain you’ve heard rumors of me being a sage - one who has studied and earned the title closest to the one blessed by the moon and led us against the corrupt humans of old. Or have you not? Lets then, just say my intuition is good.” She’d question, seeming a little disappointed at the idea if Augusta hadn’t. “Well, regardless…its safe enough, I’m sure, for one of your calibre. There are demons, yes, but for the most part they’re small fry you shouldn’t have trouble with.”

Augusta wasn't going to let the compliment stroke her ego like she might have otherwise. "When exactly would I go. The next couple of days will be training with the sword with Sorcha and then… Well, more than a couple of things." Despite the danger, she did want to go see more places. "And on that note, where is it?" It would be difficult to even place herself in danger if she didn't know where to go, after all.

“Old Naraheim exists right beneath our feet.” Rullphana responded. “There’s a gate at the end of the road. Normally you need the queens permission, but my authority should be plenty fine as well. As for when…well, think of it as hands-on training. As I said, adversity breeds creativity if you have trouble thinking of how to do things in a stable setting.”

"You say that like I've had a stable setting at all in a while." The trainee mentioned, looking at Rullphana and thinking about her journey since she was stabbed in the back before bleeding out. "Hands-on training…" Augusta thought. "Tomorrow between my trainings with Sorcha perhaps." She needed to prepare after all. "Anything in particular you wanted down there?"

“Stable and adversity are different things. Travel is comparatively easy, so long as one keeps warm. While it can help one think of different ways to combat dying from weather…its honestly a poor teacher for magic, unless you are planning on honing more elemental based magic.” Rullphana would continue. “Regardless, yes, there is something I’d like you to look into for me, but that can wait until tomorrow. I think I’ve given you enough to consider for now, so this lesson is over.”

Augusta listened to more of Rullphana's words for she had a great many to share. "Very well then. I'll return tomorrow after my morning session with Sorcha." Augusta grumbled, thinking on how in the near future she would need to go back out and practice with her more. While she did want to train with a weapon… She didn't exactly desire the multitude of cuts she received. "Need I prepare anything?"

“Hm…I would advise bringing some food, or perhaps some medicinal herbs just in case you run into more demons than expected.” She’d respond. “Otherwise, it’d be best to travel light.”

"Right then." The would-be princess uttered as she started a mental note about what her teacher suggested. "Until tomorrow then, dear teacher." With that she head back towards Leuca to check on her. See how close she was to done or if she'd take longer.

Making her way back to the main floor of the mushroom tower, Augusta would soon hear a small shout of surprise.

“Eeep! Raezel!”

“A-ah! Hold on, I’ll uh, get something to cut it with!”

After making her way back to it, she’d see Leuca apparently having a bit too much success with the plant growth, it seemed. The entire side of the room she was on, was now covered in plant foliage of various kinds and the young Sirithen was now entangled in a mess of vines, plants, and flowers. Raezeleth was doing her best to pull the other girl out.

“...I did not expect such quick progress. Tsk, you certainly have a lot of power hidden in that body of yours.” Rullphana would comment, following Augusta down. “Well, this is good of another lesson as any. You fix this, Augusta using your own magical abilities.”

Friend or Foe?

Trekking through Naraheim had always been difficult. If it wasn’t the demons, it was the hellish landscape itself threatening to suck the life out of a man. It was a good thing he was blessed by both the moon and his teacher in ways to avoid such events, but it still made it no less annoying to deal with…especially when he had to deal with a demon.

“My my, back already? I was half hoping you’d come crawling back half dead, hehe.”

“And miss the chance to annoy you? Not happening.” He would respond curtly, reaching the crest of the plateau upon where the old, burned out tree sat.

“Hows the human?” From atop its severed stump, lay a blond haired demon that was currently looking down at him from her perch where she’d lazily roll over onto her stomach as she’d ask the question.

“Half dead, but he’ll live. The Goddess really gave them very…robust bodies, didn’t she?”

“Haaa, such delicious looking bodies, too. I almost regret letting them leave. And my little puppy, she’s looking so healthy too! I wonder what became of the other seed…”

“I won’t be saving them again, just so you know. Hows the tree?”

“Eeeeh, do you have to ask! Isn’t it obvious! Ugh, that stupid dumb idiot Death Goddess did a number on it! If I ever see her Maids or her again, I’m going to turn every last one of them into a delicious meat soup!” Her apparent anger would quickly shift to amusement though, a pointy toothed grin forming on her blindfolded face. “Heheh, but I suppose I can forgive her…after all, its thanks to her I’m even ‘alive’ to start with.”

“Can it be used or not?” Vikas would curtly reply.

“Oh take a moment to relax would you? Always so busy…but I suppose that is a trait I find attractive.” She’d sit up, smirking. “What about it though? Relax with your favorite little demon?”

“...I’m going to assume that’s a no.”

“Tsk tsk, you’re no fun! Of course its a no! Look at it! Its not even a stump! Barely a husk! I’d need to replant the entire tree from scratch! Do you know what that would take?! I’d need the help of those divinities for that! And do you think they’d let me!?”

“You do have other methods of seeing our deal through to the end do you not?”

“Eeeh? I suppose I do, but it won’t be pleasant.”

“Then what do you need?”

“Hehe…well if you’re certain you want to go through with it…”

Emerald Odyssey — An MMO Isekai RP (Now Accepting!)

Kokoma

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"Ho jeez, you're hurt pretty bad aren't you." Kokoma's tone was fairly exasperated, seeing the cub hurt in such a fashion. One of its legs was clearly broken. For once, Kokoma was now for a loss of words or actions as she'd nervously regard the creature in front of her. Right, this wasn't a game any more...or at least, probably wasn't. She had skills and stuff sure, but...how did one fix a broken bone? Aside from maybe a splint or something similar, she hadn't a clue.

"Hmm...alright, don't you worry! Kokoma's gonna help." Now that it didn't seem like the cub was going to be hostile, Kokoma would inch slowly closer to it, so she could see exactly where it was pinned at. If it would let her, she'd start finally getting to unpinning it as best she could with her hands, hoping she'd not need to cut any branches or anything. Didn't want a weapon to spook the cub again. "Just stay still, I'll get you out and fix that leg of yours."

Dungeon Clearer! A Fantasy Adventurer RP

Okaaay!

Sorry for the long delay on that I got a bit distracted by other things. Hopefully I didn't have Neffy do too much there but I shall adjust as needed if I have to change anything.

Dungeon Clearer! A Fantasy Adventurer RP

Neffy

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Another, less trained individual, might have flinched or otherwise faltered at hearing the words get down, shouted across the field, or taken their advice. But of course, doing so wouldn't be her job, now would it? It was certainly dangerous, but if they couldn't get to the necromancer before he overwhelmed them with the dead, then that would be even more dangerous. The smell of burning flesh assaulted her nostrils, but she didn't think of it.

Her target had already been spotted. A foul creature, clad in black robes decorated with feathers. A skull of a dear, for a helmet. It was already attempting to channel more foul magic. Faster, she had to be faster. She focused energy from her blade towards her feet. Desert winds carrying her swiftly as she could across the floor. Quickly, before he could raise them again!

"Mist...!" And just to be safe - a flash of her blade, a brief incantation and a thick mist would escape from the enchanted weapon, a few steps later the area around her had been obscured by the thick fog, blocking the target from seeing her. A brief moment more of confusion while he couldn't see her was all she'd need. Second, two watery blades towards the goblins staff and body - for a distraction as well as interrupting his spellcasting. She wasn't going to attack him head on, no. Instead, hopefully while distracted, she'd drive the sword into the Shaman's back.

Of course, she was utterly terrified of fighting a goblin like this.

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

Warlord

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@VitaVitaAR
It was true, that they perhaps, felt no shame or guilt. They thought that were in the right still, after all. And that would remain true for their journey back to the city. The three would keep their heads down, though for fear of being reprimanded or otherwise punished and follow along quietly to what was the village center.

Needless to say, the villagers were definitely curious as to what was happening. Word had already spread that some outsiders, specifically a dark haired girl had been asked by Enli to resolve some incidents in the city so it wasn’t hard for them to believe some similar looking outsider would be involved something like this.

And then came the words.

Traitors. Murder. Attempting to kill Enli.

“...They…attempted to kill Enli?”

“But he’s our elder…”

“Really? Can we…believe this?”

“Didn’t you hear? One of those outsiders were looking into something for Enli!”

“Really?!”

“Then its true!?”

Voices from the village would start ringing out, certainly and quickly earning the ire of the village in general. Some insults were tossed their way, after all, even if they didn’t particularly consider Enli to be some paragon of chiefly values - they definitely considered him mostly a good guy, doing his best to lead the village. Not only that, murdering would only cause chaos, wouldn’t it? What would they do without him?

The hunters were looking visibly uncomfortable, keeping their heads towards the ground. It would take some time for the public ridicule to have some noticeable effect, but eventually, one of the hunters would speak up quietly.

“...were we…the bad guys…?”

“And what, leave the village to rot?”

The three, at least, seemed to have some form of understanding then, at least, that maybe their actions could have been handled better.

“Excuse me, miss.” One of the villagers, would walk over, interrupting Nobunaga and whatever she was doing now. “Erm, I saw some hunters rush over to the old ruin on the cliff…Soyala was with them. I don’t know what they’re doing, but if these three were plotting against the village…”

A skill Seeker
@Crimson Paladin

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“...you were meddling. The seal was under it…” The hunter would respond with a grunt. “Soyala and that one outsider said we should.” One of the hunters would comment, but aside from that they didn’t seem to have much more information. If pressed for the name of the outsider specifically, they didn’t seem to have one. As Novak left, they would respond no further, merely looking at Novak with a mildly tired gaze as they’d wait to have their punishment soon.

As Novak headed through the village, the place was understandably a bit spooked by the obelisk. No doubt it had never done whatever it had before. A number of hunters were quickly making their way over to the Obelisk, though it was difficult to tell what they were doing. At least no one was going to impede his progress to Enli, and soon he’d find himself standing inside the chief’s longhouse.

“Ah, Novak!” Enli would excitedly greet the younger man with a friendly smile. “Glad to see you are alright. I haven’t seen Akando, but I believe he might have been with that Donovan fellow, though I can’t be certain. Either way, I must thank you again for helping.” He would soon take a more serious expression though, as he’d motion for Novak to take a seat by the fire and warm himself. “What exactly have they mentioned, though? I was going to address the people soon, so I’d like to have some idea of what you’ve heard.”

Misaki and Narkissa

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@Click This@PKMNB0Y

“Better look?” Lazhira would echo uncertainly. “Hmm…maybe…well, we could look from the edge of the forest! Sneak up on ‘em.” Lazhira would say. “But uh, you sure? I mean, its probably attracting a lot of attention and well…”

If Misaki was certain she’d want to go after that, Lazhira would give her a wide grin and start making her way towards the southern exit of the village, pulling Misaki along with her followed closely by the Deer.

Lazhira and Misaki would arrive at the edge of the forest, far enough away from the cliff and Obelisk to not easily be seen, but close enough to see what exactly was going on. It seemed the hunters were up to something, being directed by a black haired huntress who seemed a bit…well, pissed off to put mildly. She was pushing the other hunters around and barking orders to set up traps, it seemed. It looked like they were setting up to Ambush something or someone from the look of things, but what exactly they were looking to Ambush was mystery. By the time they had arrived, the light show was over and whatever the Obelisk had done was finished.

This would also be the scene Narkissa would see from a distance as she’d make an approach. She however, was definitely more out in the open than the other two. Upon seeing her, Lazhira would start waving, coming just a bit out of the treeline.

“Psst, hey!” She’d shout, just loud enough for her to hear. “Narkissa! Over here!”

A Traveler
@PaulHaynek

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Alone, cold, and slightly injured.

Maybe he was out of his depth here.

The cold snow would at least help with the burns and getting himself clean - but it would also only make him colder, losing more precious body heat…it was a good thing the cold no longer seemed to really matter to him all that much. He’d stand, legs shaking. The young man would find his only company to currently be snowfall, and silence.

Thankfully it seemed the forest was well, at least marginally safer than the snowfield, or at least the dead weren’t as common here. As he’d follow the trail left by the unknown human, Nicholas would soon come across a perhaps welcome sight.

A log cabin, smoke slowly rolling up from the chimney. The sloped roof carried on its top the weight of massive snow drifts, some which had even fallen to the point of completely burying the back of the cabin around the chimney. The sole window was near the pointed roof, where the roof met wood. The front of the yard was surprisingly tidy. Snow had been pushed to the side. A few carefully tended fruit bearing bushes clung to the front, already ripe with fruit it seemed. A few skins were also hung on a rack, presumably for drying and tanning.

It seemed like a homely little place. Perhaps too much so.

He would just make out a flash of red cloak disappearing into the door of the place.

If he wished too, Knocking on the door or calling would give no answer, and he would find it was unlocked. He had definitely just seen someone go in, but they didn’t seem intent on talking…perhaps that would be for the best, and he should leave and wait for Elisette.

---

Send Feet Pics
@Cu Chulainn

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The Oni would give Nomura a friendly nod, waiting for him to finish his errand. The fisherman he had borrowed the rod from would look at Nomura, then the fish, then the rod. He would repeat that a few times, seeming in mild disbelief as he’d gaze at the large catch, a loss for words as Nomura spoke about spirits and blessings.

“A-are you now?” He’d respond with a blink. He seemed uncertain, but he couldn’t quite not believe what he was seeing. “A spirit…in the fishing rod…?” Soon, he’d start laughing, though not out of any sort of disbelief. “A spirit of some sort, eh? That’d explain it. Alright, i’ll believe you, sure. Now I’ll go and see if I can catch something with this, ahah!” No sense in not believing Nomura, really. Who knows - maybe this spirit rod would catch him enough fish to feed the entire village and his family twice over.

Heading back to Mie’s tent he’d find the fox herself having just settled back in, seemingly having finished just some business.

“Well,” Mie would laugh, seeing the fish he was carrying. “Didn’t take you for a fisherman. I’m sure Ayumi would love eating that in a single night.” The fox would respond. “Hm, yes, sit it on the table for now. I’ll have a Oni put it in one of the ice boxes after skinning and taking any valuable parts from it.” Business minded as ever, it seemed. Once Nomura had done so, Mie would motion for him to leave the tent and follow her.

“Thank you for solving that. I’m assuming that’s why one of the Oni told me someone was leaving with some of my things. No need to get violent. Violence is the last option, in my line of work.” Mie responded with a rather laissez faire attitude. “If he doesn’t…Ayumi will take care of him. Now as for why I called you here.” Mie would say, bringing Nomura to a small arena looking place. A few logs of wood had been driven into the ground, ropes tied between them. A few weapons and scattered bits of protective armor were laying near by. Some shirtless Oni were taking a break nearby while two seemingly had just finished sparring. “I know I said I’d be employing you, Nomura - and while I’m not going to make guarding anything your job…I do expect you to be able to protect my goods. That is to say, I would like you to have some ability to defend yourself and my things with some measure of ability. You can have any weapon you wish - I see you favor a bow, and there are plenty of arrows, alternatively I have many swords or other melee weapons.”

The Roma Mob
@ERode

---

Definitely fear the old blood

It was incomprehensible, but unlike some others, Isidore had no qualms with simply accepting that.

Twinned caverns, one enormous and another fathomless, brought him to the edge of stony plains, clusters of rounded rocks resting upon terrain that was smoother than pavement. Erratically, lava bubbled up in the depressions of the field, pockets of searing illumination that promised warmth and death in equal parts. The greatest surges of lava was sufficient to create a river of molten flame, though it was unclear where the waterfall came from. Metal pipes, gleaming in the red light, surged with steam, indicating some subterranean reservoir, while the trees that Nesherit had mentioned were inverted buildings instead, thrust unto earth as spears. It pulled at him, these relics of his former world. If these were buildings craft of human engineering, were other products within as well? Or were these empty shells, facsimiles of the world he once inhabited?

Isidore slipped on his goggles and his gloves, his gaze drawn to the city in the distance, the shadow of a stump rendered miniscule when compared to the unending heights of Old Naraheim. Was it possible that this entire mountain was naught more than a shell, a lid that covered this cavern? Or was something else at play here? He blinked as he realized that he had been gripping his polearm the entire time with force enough to blanch his knuckles and slowly relaxed. There were mysteries to be solved here, answers to be uncovered.

But the job came first.

“Come, Octavia,” Isidore clicked, turning eastwards. “Demons will be left til next time.”
The sights, though impressive, would not keep Isidore captive for long. With a happy bark Octavia would follow as he’d cross the glassy plains. He did have a job, so investigating other places could indeed, wait for later. Initially the walk was mostly uneventful, Isidore kept only company by the sound of the lava and the occasional distant howl of some creature.

Soon though, he would reach what was assumedly his objective. Rounding the large mountainous rocky protrusion he would come upon what could only be called a forest of sorts.

A forest of roots.

Before he’d have a chance to thoroughly investigate, though, he’d hear Octavia give an aggressive growl, her demonic maw pulled back into a terrifying grin as she’d loudly bark towards the forest. Isidore would only have a few seconds to react before whatever Octavia had noticed, noticed him.

It looked like a pack of some sort.

About three hounds similar to Octavia, but much larger. Dangerous on their own, to be certain, but what they were gathered around seemed to be a different story altogether. A tall creature about the size of a man, with black, leathery flesh and a mane of coarse white hair. Several holes on its body glowed red, and what seemed to be hot lava dripped from its massive underbite between its sparse, sharp teeth. Its black flesh seemed oddly fluid in some areas, causing it to drip and hang from parts of its body revealing skeletal structure underneath.

They had just noticed him, and if he acted quickly he could get the first blow in.

Three canines and a humanoid. At a glance, Isidore understood them as hunter and hound, a combination so useful that it persisted, cruelly perhaps, in modern day policing procedures. And he understood too, that to escape from them on foot is to kill the hound first.

Trust him to jinx himself though. Would that monolithic deer arrive next, if he simply evoked their name?

“Octavia, dogs.”

A mirthful grimace cut into his features as Isidore lunged in, the core of his stomach building up fire and energy but not yet expelling it all. Taking the polearm, he swung it downwards into a vicious chop, ready to cave in the skull of the closest hound. Whether hunters or gangsters, the methods were always the same: the mongrels went first.

The hunchbacked humanoid shrieked, an unholy, high pitched thing as Isidore’s halberd struck the unaware demonic hound. The heavy weight of the strike nearly cleaving the hound in two as a second hound would make an attempt to leap towards Isidore - but would be intercepted by Octavia, tackling it from the front as the two would slide across the ground, growling and snarling, biting at each others throat.

Leaving Isidore to just deal with the humanoid looking demon and a single hound. Seeing two of its hounds occupied, it would snarl, and quickly start closing the distance between the two of them. The last hound would circle to his side, ready to flank.

One down, another dealt with. Isidore hitched his hand up the shaft of his halberd, his own legs bent as he hefted the head of his weapon back behind him. The distance continued to close, adrenaline surging through his fiery veins as Isidore built up more and more power, a heat haze emanating from his form.

A flank was useful only for offense and for applying mental pressure. But he already knew how high a hound could leap.

The distance became opportune. He let the engine roar.

Surpassing the speed he had demonstrated in his initial ambush, Isidore dashed in low, the stone fractured where his feet had been. Joints groaned beneath the pressure he placed upon them, but within the corona of a physical explosion, those were all distant concerns. Like a sickle through wheat, the halberd arced, intent on bisecting the humanoid with Dirithen steel and destructive velocity.

The lunging hound would miss its target, not expecting the speed that Isidore had displayed and would sail past the human, scrambling to get back to its feet as it attempting to make a sharp turn. The humanoid too, seemed somewhat taken aback by the sudden burst of speed…but Isidore’s halberd would not find its target.

In a display of speed, instead of avoiding, the demon would instead duck, leaping forward - and ram its head right into Isidore’s midsection before the blow would connect. The impact was enough to momentarily daze as the creature would then make an attempt to follow the headbutt by attempting to grab one of Isidore’s arms.

Meanwhile, Octavia seemed to be winning her confrontation. The other hound had put up a fight, but she had managed to completely bite a hole into the other hounds chest - and was proceeding to start devouring it…while it was still alive.

It could react to his speed. Demons could react to his new speed. It was good to know. It was a shame he’d discover it this way. Maintaining the engine of his accelerating heart, Isidore braced himself for the headbutt, his breath escaping from grit teeth as the skull of the monster slammed into his ribs. It would bruise, but nothing would break, and more importantly, it wasn’t a tackle.

So the hunter had exposed its back, bent over even as it tried to rise, one clawed hand grasping for his arm but having nothing to guarantee that Isidore himself would remain where he was.

One step and a pivot brought Isidore beside the creature, its claws only scratching the leather of his gloves. Above, he had brought the halberd upright, spiked butt now driving down onto the monster’s back. Below, his foot swung out in a low kick to knock the already off-balance creature, intent on preventing another miraculous escape. And if all went well?

The demon would be staked into the ground while Isidore handled the remaining hound.

Isidore’s halberd would meet its target. Its feet were summarily knocked out from under it. The spiked end would pierce the creatures leathery flesh, lava-esque blood seeping from the wound and spilling across its skin, the smell of burnt flesh quickly reaching Isidore’s nostrils. The demon would shriek, and make an attempt to grab the halberd.

The remaining hound would bark, growling and snarling as it would leap towards him again, fangs bared to knock him off balance as he was busy finishing off the demon.

Writhing. Bending. Contorting. The creature’s legs scrambled against the floor as its arms reached backwards in ways that beggared belief, clawed hands reaching for the haft of the halberd as if it could actually pull it out. Considering its speed, its inhuman physiology, Isidore decided that it certainly could. That, alongside the blur of matted fur in the corner of his eye, caused him to click his tongue.

Should’ve gone for the mongrel after all, but the opportunity had been too good to pass up.

Stepping back and cocking his halberd over his shoulder once more, Isidore relied on his enhanced reflexes to dodge the hound from hell by the barest of margins. As he did, he sucked in another breath, the energy that surged from his core now shooting outwards. The nature of magic was creation. The nature of his magic was fire. And the nature of his fighting style? Small tricks, big hits.

Where the spiked end of the halberd left, a molten spike manifested, sprouting out from the ground and filling that hole in the demon. Not to harm, but simply to hold it in place if it tried to roll or scramble out of the way. A distraction, easily countered if the demon simply pushed itself off the ground and stood up.

But so long as it didn’t roll, it couldn’t dodge Isidore’s halberd, swinging down with divinely-blessed might.

The demon would give a momentary gurgle of relief as the halberd was pulled from its chest. Its arms would contort back to the front of it. It wouldn’t roll or make a move to evade, since it had no idea that a spike of fire was going to quite so cleanly attempt to immobilize it again. The trick, indeed, seemed to work. From under its feet, a stake of molten fire would pierce the demons chest from the front. Another shriek though this time seemed more annoyed than painful.

The hound would just barely miss Isidore, snarling again in understandable annoyance. Octavia, having completely finished the first mongrel and what was apparently her now lunch, would move to intercept the last hound, giving Isidore time to deal with this demon.

The halberd would fall again.

The blade would cleave flesh.

Fiery blood would spill from the wound.

It would screech in annoyance, but even though its blade would sink into the demons flesh, it wouldn’t die - its flesh would seem to almost immediately start mending itself just seconds after the impact.

“Now why won’t you die?” Isidore mused, at ease with Octavia handling the remaining mongrel and his chief opponent squarely on the ground. The demon’s limbs continued to wriggle and squirm, the severance of its spinal column doing nothing to actually prevent its lower body from moving. Still ready for frenzied battle but deciding that speed was no longer a deciding factor here, the dark-haired youth allowed the engine of his heart to slow, allowed the blood in his veins to cool. A heaviness settled upon his shoulders, a burden many times greater than the items that he had strapped to his body. It would have been good if Augusta was here now to offer some advice, some secret she had gleaned through her omniscient eyes, as to how one would slay such a nonsensical creature. Octavia herself, like the other plants, had been weak to fire and holy magic, but Isidore doubted the former’s efficacy and had no access to the latter.

For that, perhaps, another man would be more suited for demon slaying.

His gaze swept around the area, spotting a pocket of smoldering light off nearby. If neither holy magic nor fire magic could serve his purposes, well, perhaps hellspawn ought to just be consigned to the lake of fire from whence they came. In pieces, if he had to. More like an executioner than a warrior now, Isidore drew up his halberd and this time slammed it right down onto the demon’s neck, breaking through bone and rotted flesh, before kicking it off a couple meters away. As for the rest of the body?

The pick end of the dwarven halberd made for a good hook when it drove itself into the still-moving body, and Isidore moved to drag it towards the nearest pool of lava. It wasn’t a cement mixer, but it ought to keep this living corpse occupied for a bit longer. If no noteworthy struggle was had, demon’s body would find itself bathing in lava soon enough.

The demon, of course, shrieked in protest. Was it frightened? Could demons even be afraid? Perhaps, perhaps not. The demons neck was cut. Flesh rent from bone. Its body would still convulse and attempt moving, but it was weakened from its severed head it seemed, whatever regeneration it seemingly had at least temporarily halted, or perhaps confused as it head and body were separated.

It wasn’t hard to find a pool of smoldering lava in this forest of roots. They weren’t as deep as the river he had seen before, but they would suffice. The body of the demon would soon be tossed in…the burning smell of flesh. Shrieks of pain from the beasts head as the body was soon completely submerged. It would continue to writhe for seconds, until it completely ceased.

Octavia would bark a few times - yet if Isidore looked, her target wasn’t the hound. It had already had its body impaled by…roots that seemingly had come up from the ground, fully impaling and immobilizing the second hound. Had Octavia done that? Regardless, her target now seemed to be the head of the demon that was still writhing, attempting to regenerate. Tendrils of flesh would come down from its neck. Octavia was doing her best, but the fiery blood seemed to be a good deterrent.

Like some sort of cockroach that refused to die, perhaps.

“Good girl,” Isidore murmured as he strolled up beside the pup. Her own bag of tricks was expanding, it appeared. Good that she used it to end the second hound quickly, good that she used it while she was still an ally. It was better that decapitation seemed a fair bit more effective against such creatures, even if their speed made it unlikely that he could do so in the heat of battle. At least not with a weapon as hefty as a halberd.

Perhaps next time, he would bring the longsword after all. He was also curious how such a creature could continue its shrieking without a set of lungs to pump air through its vocal cords. Perhaps a conversation with Rullphana would have to be at hand too; there was certainly no way he could deal with these creatures effectively if two of them came at him together. The young man rubbed the back of his neck, hefted up the halberd, motioned Octavia to be careful about the splatter, and cleaved the demon’s head in half, from crown to jaw.

If that still wasn’t enough to put an end to the wriggling…well, fine, what was another body part into the lava bath?
Another cleave.

And finally, the demons shrieking and struggling would cease. No life or energy remained. Seemed whatever was keeping it alive would finally be unable to do so. As it would make its last breath, the entire demon would just…deflate. Melting, it seemed, into a pile of black and orange sludge as its skin and blood seemed to mix together in a puddle. Thankfully he didn’t have to fight two at once, but who knows how many more were around here…and whether or not something more dangerous was lurking around.

The head was completely severed in two, and Octavia would sniff the resulting corpse though would soon find herself recoiling in annoyance and trot back over to the hound she had impaled before starting to eat what remained of it. He was alone at least now, and as far as he could tell there was nothing else immediately in the vicinity of the root forest he was in, giving him some time to investigate the forest in full then.

Now that he wasn’t fighting, he could see something a bit odd about the roots. After abit of looking around, while a number of them were penetrating the ground, it looked like several more in several places had been oddly…cut? Perhaps that was the wrong word for it, but it was hard to really come up with another. Sections of roots had been entirely just removed, with odd rectangular cuts at the top of the stumps on the ground and the same where the roots would have connected to it further up.

Curious. It would seem there were quite a number of these odd cuts in these roots.

With the immediate threat taken care of and Octavia distracted by her constant desire to gorge (hummingbirds honestly had nothing on her), Isidore took a small break as well, leaning his halberd against his shoulder as he took a long sip of lukewarm water from the canteen. A couple of dried strips of jerky kept up his energy levels and kept his mouth occupied as he knelt over the puddle of flesh that the demon had ultimately dissolved into. He studied it briefly, before standing up again. Right now, his main weakness is that he had no proper gauge of what was ‘normal’ for a demon and what wasn’t. That was a problem to be fixed with experience and conversation though, not investigation.

And as for the actual matter to investigate…

Rectangular cuts, with sections of the roots removed to functionally create ‘windows’ in the area. Removing the glove from his left hand, Isidore placed one hand on the sliced open end, feeling the grain of the wood and trying to determine how ‘seamless’ of a cut it was, while his gaze found itself peering into the darkness of the space beyond those roots. The silkweavers could have gone through the gaps of the roots regardless; these windows were for larger creatures then. Poachers? Or just predators?

He narrowed his eyes.

As he’d lay his hand upon the cut, a small static shock would briefly singe his hand. Nothing painful, but that was odd. A natural phenomena? The fact not all the roots had these missing pieces perhaps said it wasn’t. There was also the hole itself. Against Isidore’s touch, it felt smooth. Impossibly smooth. As if instead of being cut, perhaps, the matter had just been completely deleted as one might text from a word document.

Octavia, finishing another meal would trot over to Isidore, standing alert. She seemed just a bit bigger than she had previously…well, it was probably fine. The size somewhere between a puppy and a fully grown large hound. The same fiery, hot landscape stretched beyond the roots, the forest seeming fairly large by comparison. If he walked through it, he might find something else or some other clue as to what these cuts were unless he had some way to investigate the roots directly or wanted to try.

The static shock surprised him, but that surprise was a pleasant one. Tapping his fingers over the rest of the cut roots, Isidore confirmed that they all caused the same curious effect, one that lingered even after the first exchange of electricity, and with that in mind, brought the halberd against the roots. The axeblade wasn’t designed for the work of cutting lumber, but Dirithen steel made the act easy enough, and Isidore secured two severed roots to his back, creating enough of a gap in the mesh of roots that he could slide into without problem.

There was a raised brow at Octavia’s explosive growth, but no comment. She too was immortal, after all, possessing a unique set of magical capabilities. So long as her hunger was trained upon monsters, he had no complaint. And if betrayal was in the nature of this facsimile of humanity’s best friend…well, Augusta may not understand, but Augusta wasn’t here.

And thus, hefting his halberd over his shoulder again, Isidore ducked beneath the roots and headed in.

The root forest was, well, as much of a facsimile of a forest as Octavia was of a hound. Isidore would run into a few more hounds, but they wouldn’t engage. Perhaps, lacking a hunter or otherwise deeming Isidore not worth it. It was expectedly dark, too. A reddish haze tinting everything with heat further creating a red, hot gloom.

More of those odd gaps in the trees, too…soon whatever he was doing though, his thoughts would be interrupted by what was the now distant roars he was hearing - that were steadily getting closer, In fact, whatever it was, was seemingly coming towards him at an alarmingly fast rate.

Something was coming. Something loud and monstrous, smashing through the distorted vegetation of this gloomy forest, something that could very easily explain why the silkweavers have gone…either in the form of predator or prey. Against something that he could only like to a bulldozer though, even Isidore did not want to stand in its way. Bending his legs, he motioned Octavia to begin scampering off to the side while he drew power into his own core, redirecting it to his lower extremities.

He needed to see this creature. He needed to evade this creature. So the best way to do it would be to leap off to the side on sight, and allow the creature’s own momentum to make pursuit impossible. So Isidore breathed in and out, quelling his frantic mind with measured motions.

Perhaps this was what matadors felt.

He wouldn’t have to wait long.

Crashing through the roots of this massive tree, was a creature that looked far more bestial than the hunchbacked human he had encountered earlier. While its lower torso sported short, stubby back legs covered in the same charred, black flesh that started fairly human, halfway up the torso it would begin to grow obscenely, body bulging as its flesh glowed and bubbled, heavy and large enough to cause the creature to have to walk hunched over - though it was not a problem. Its front arms were equally as big as its body, using them to run and barrel through the charred roots at an alarming rate. They were covered in heavy, thick rock-like slabs for protection. A smooth tail extended from its backside.

Curiously, it seemed to lack any sort of head or facial features. Where its ‘head’ would have been, was merely a gaping hole, making the beast appear almost entirely hollow inside save for a molten furnace able to melt steel.

It stumbled through roots, barreling past both Isidore and Octavia, spilling liquid fire behind it as it did so. It was at least twice as tall as he was, liquid fire leaking from its ‘head’ as it began to seemingly check the area around it, as if it was looking for something. Octavia was taking shelter behind a tree not far from Isidore. Soon, it would seemingly trip over its own top-heavy weight into a nearby clearing where it would soon right itself and give a guttural, gurgling howl and turn back the way it came, seemingly searching the treeline with senses not evident to Isidore.

Twice his height and built like a gorilla, but without a head or any internal organs, it was a monstrosity that could only be likened to that of the warden of the prison. Certainly, Isidore had slain foul creatures before, but the thing that stumbled through the roots with gargantuan violence, spewing flames out heedlessly, presented another sort of challenge to him. It could not bleed, and there did not seem to be any physical mechanism that enabled its movement. Isidore’s own specialization, insofar as he had obtained through amateur experimentations and desperate situations, was flame and thus subsequently useless against a creature whose very existence was defined by flame.

There was some comedy in both encounters though, one that caused his lips to twitch as he backed further away from the creature. An undying hunter and its hounds. An armored juggernaut burning from within. Was it at the designs of the Storyteller, that such creatures were Isidore’s first experience with real demons? Twisted one, wasn’t she?

But well, that went for those she had called as well. A wanderer with no sense of self-preservation, a holy man in a world that called for amorality, a woman who sought to burn away her past in pursuit of nebulous ambition. And himself, still undefined, still burning, still searching. The first hypothesis formulated then. A powerful demon had lost something. In search of that something, it continually rampages through the habitat of the silkweavers in search of it. Now, what was it?

Its child? Its missing head? Or something else?

Isidore narrowed his eyes, watching it depart into the heady gloom. Two hours had passed, and though his environment was exhausting, he had food and water to spare. He clicked his tongue, drawing Octavia’s attention once more, and pushed deeper into the forest, resetting his hourglass at the same time. One more hour, and then he will make his return. Just a six hour work day. Luxurious by his previous world’s standards.

The headless demon, would as Isidore leave, give another gurgling, guttural howl as it would seem to briefly deem nothing in the vicinity, before running off the direction Isidore had come from. Perhaps, it was for the best he did not engage. No telling what such a beast was capable of, and no telling if there were others around or not.

Onward he would press into the forest, the direction the behemoth came from. As he walked, he would slowly become aware of more of little rectangular cuts in the ground like the same as in the roots. They had been sparse and rare before, but the deeper into the forest he got, the more common they would become. They weren’t exclusive to the ground now, either.

He would too, spot other demonic creatures off in the distance. More hounds, and what appeared to be another of those juggernauts - but dead, or dormant…or sleeping. Its body was completely unmoving, the furnace within having been extinguished. It looked nothing more than an odd rock formation as it lay dormant. Odd, more of those cuts on it, too.

Soon, he’d see something perhaps, a bit uncharacteristic for the forest.

The red haze coloring everything would slowly lift as Isidore would come to the edge of a small drop in the floor. A large, unnatural, rectangular shaped cut in the ground about the size of a football field. Red, crackling energy would occasionally zap from the ground, and a number of rocks would litter the unnatural plain, seemingly shattered in half, those rectangular cuts at either end as though they had been severed at the middle and just tossed about.

More corpses too. Another juggernaut. A few piles of black sludge. A few hounds that seemed to have been cut in half as the roots and rocks had. The entire forest of roots had also been cut down, creating an unnatural clearing.

Octavia would whimper next to Isidore.

So his hypothesis was incorrect. It wasn’t looking for what it had lost. It was looking for whatever had caused this as it scrambled away. Isidore’s steps slowed as the area around him was transformed by whatever had caused this, his knuckles whitening as his grip tightened over the worn haft of his halberd. A halberd that, if it exchanged blows with whatever had caused this devastation, would simply be split in half. Another juggernaut laid on its side, whatever arcane work that gave it life having been extinguished with enough damage to its chassis. A silver lining then. Those walking forges could be killed.

Even if only by a physical force that he himself couldn’t generate.

“Octavia,” Isidore murmured, senses honed for any movement in the vicinity, “Bark if it gets dangerous.” He sucked in a breath, forcing his buzzing brain to cool down even as his heart rate increased to fervent levels. There was no fight, not yet, but Isidore was only resilient, not immortal. And his undying nature could be trumped easily by a singularly powerful strike that landed before his carapace began to thicken.

Cautiously, he approached the very edge of the depression, crouching down before it. That monolithic deer could wrought such destruction, but they were leagues away. The mountain-spanning worm could wrought such destruction, but no biological being could perform such a shallow, straight bite into flat stone. Sorcha and Rullphana could no doubt wrought such destruction, but if that’s the case, there was no mystery at all, and it did not explain the lightning that crackled either. So it was that crackling lightning, so much more forceful than the static shocks at the very entrance of this root forest, that Isidore would have to puzzle out, would have to extract. Removing the leather glove that covered his left hand, he furrowed his brow, visualizing the viscous, intangible energies that swirled within his blood. He did not know how batteries worked, did not even really remember what caused static shocks. The days of his youth had been spent on violence, the days of his maturation on enterprise.

It would be just metal then. Metal to tease out this bloodbright energy, to then seal it. A lightning rod, stretching out in the void, unable to release its charge. Iron, charred and smoking, molten and warped, but iron all the same.

He’ll get Vasserasa to foot the medical bill.

Isidore pressed his hand against the edge.

And so Isidore would focus on the lightning, and his own fire he would begin to start attempting to ‘pull’ it. A rod of metal, pulling in the crimson electrical energy towards him. It would initially, be somewhat slow. It was hard to ‘grab’ or ‘attract’ such erratic seeming energy. The way the lightning discharged was entirely random and impossible to predict, surging from the ground, the rocks, and even the dead juggernaut at random intervals.

Yet, soon he could see some visible progress. The energy would crawl along the ground, getting closer and closer - until the red energy would leap from the ground to Isidore, striking him with a high pitched electrical whine right in the closest part of his body - outstretched hand. The next he’d feel was intense pain as electrical energy would surge through him

His entire hand would start feeling unnaturally hot - and rather distressingly, it seems like the tips of his fingers were starting to be burned away, little flecks of rectangular black particles dissipating from where lightning met flesh. It was hard to tell if it was working, but it at least did seem as though he had drawn all the energy to him.

“Fuck!”

Even having braced himself, the agony that ripped into his body drew a cry from Isidore’s grit teeth as he stumbled away from the depression, his left hand twitching and spasming from the energy that surged and circulated within. Already, the flesh looked like it was carbonizing, tips blackening and flaking away, the sort of irreparable cellular damage that would have meant a lost hand back in the modern era. He had been aware of it of course, had even expected that he’d lose more than just the tips of his fingers. Had been resolved to it, knowing that magic which could heal existed in the world.

But, just like how being pepper sprayed would cause even the most hardened badass to cry, and just like how being tasered would cause even the most roided up goon to fall, there were some sensations that overrode all control of one’s body, through stimuli alone, and for a moment, Isidore found himself wholly willing to eject that lightning out once more, to simply report this area to Vasserasa, so that more knowledgeable investigators could puzzle out this incident.

And yet, he didn’t.

Because he wasn’t dead yet, and because he hadn’t exhausted every other option yet. His teachers thought Isidore as violent. His subordinates thought Isidore as merciless.

His wife knew him as stubborn.

His right hand clamped over his left, as if to physically pin the lightning there. Heat continued to rise and even in the gloom and shadow, Isidore saw his flesh began to swell and redden. So what? His skin was already stone. His blood was already fire. His stomach was already a furnace, his heart already an engine. If he could not claim dominion over what this artificial body of his was, how could he claim to accomplish any more than what he had in his previous life?

Eyes squeezed shut in concentration, mind forcing away the sensation of pain, both hands clenching as tightly as they could, Isidore refined his visualizations, picturing the scarlet lightning that had shot into his body, the lightning that he had tried to bottle. Batteries though, must not have truly captured lightning. No, lightning was not something to be captured to begin with, not when it moved faster than any of mankind’s creations. Sorcha flashed through his fevered thoughts, so swift that her physical form could blink out of existence, the distance between the two closed between the beats of his heart.

Lightning was not stilled. Lightning was constantly in motion, so long as one granted it such. He would grant it such.

Isidore knew nothing of the fine profession of electrical engineering, but he had stripped copper from wiring before to make some spare change. Electricity traveled through copper. Circuitry guided lightning. So he would guide it too. From the furnace of his stomach, he envisioned the smelting of ore, golden lines gleaming bright, materializing within the fiery veins that boiled within his left hand. Rudimentary circuitry, all connected, all coiled, forming an endless pathway for that cursed lightning to travel through. Now, all he had to do was to connect it.

A breath. Blisters were forming now, bulbous and grotesque, pus geysering out. Two hours away from civilization if things continued to go poorly. Couldn’t totally trust that Octavia wouldn’t attack him if he showed too much weakness either. And this was only the side effect of whatever creature had wrought so much damage.

Fuck off though.

Isidore still hadn’t hit his limits.

“Switch on.”

Engine beating. Blood boiling. Fiery breath. Every engine he possessed had activated, straining against this foreign energy that Isidore was attempting to tame. His body was screaming, burning, telling him to release, yet, stubborn as he was he did not.

From his fiery blood, the crimson lightning would begin traveling through his body. Up his arm, now that he was guiding it it seemed to be burning him less as it moved. Was that the secret then? Perhaps so. From his arm, it would then travel down the left side of his body, towards his stomach. Now he could even see a visible effect on the surrounding area as the amount of crackling energy and lightning seemed to lessen the more he drew it in. From his stomach, it would travel up towards his heart. A dangerous notion, letting electricity near such an important organ.

Yet, it seemed to indeed be working. As long as he kept the energy moving, it seemed he’d have no further adverse effects save for excruciating pain in his hand, and mild burns upon the rest of this skin where his carapace would start hardening to protect him…but then, what would he do with this energy? He had taken most of it, and it seemed like it’d start burning, disintegrating him again if he let it stay still. Perhaps there was a way to absorb it into the engine he had so carefully made himself.

If it was just pain, that made it easier. Sweat continued to bead down his brow, stinging into his eyes, but Isidore gradually released his grip over his own wrist. That energy was circulating properly now, his veins converted into circuitry, fireblood into molten metals. He had given lightning direction. Now, he needed to give it a function.

Gathering his feet in front of him, Isidore sat in a cross-legged position and maintained his deep breaths. In and out, tension leaving his jaw as he forced himself to relax. The fervor left his heart. The flames faded to coal within his core. His shoulders sagged slightly, and he turned his scorched left hand upwards to the ceiling, resting close to his navel, while his right hand turned downwards, overtop his left hand.

Fuel. Furnace. Engine. An engine that generated further power, but directionless power. Now, with lightning still wrecking havoc, still cooking his left hand from the inside even though it no longer disintegrated his body, Isidore continued to up his ante. The heart, the engine, granted power. But the nerves, both autonomous and voluntary, granted movement and finesse, sensation and adaptation.

The circuitry reworked itself, disassociating from his blood and seeping into his flesh, spreading out from his heart to connect with the innumerable nerves that truly controlled the contraction and contortion of his muscles.

If the heart was the engine, the nerves were the steering system, the dashboard, the pedals. He had already risked his body thrice over for the purpose of amateur experimentation. What was another go?

A thin, nervous smile crested his features, a smile that he could only allow because Octavia couldn’t speak. To imagine that this was just the first day in Old Naraheim. To imagine that this was just him collecting a sample of a suspicious phenomenon.

Isidore allowed it to flow.

The energy coursed through his veins. Seething, burning…but controlled. A few errant sparks would blast from his hands, sparking and arcing between the two until eventually the pain would ebb away. It seemed as long as it circulated through his body in some manner, it was harmless enough, but there was overall no telling what exactly this energy even was in the end. A brief look at his hand, Isidore would note that the tips of his fingers had…well, disintegrated. Miniscule, rectangular cuts where the lightning had burned them. It seemed this lightning itself was responsible for those rectangular holes, burning - or perhaps completely disintegrating whatever it touched in such a precise fashion.

Perhaps he could do this exact thing with other magical energy somehow?

Goddess Note

Skill Acquired: Mana Redirect
A skill allowing one to redirect magical energy tossed at them from any supernatural source. Rather than absorbing and meshing it with your own, you redirect it to some other purpose, thus weakening its effects upon you as you turn it towards something else. Generally, this will work with everything but some sources of energy would be far too strong to completely deflect, and some are easier to work with then others.

Skill Acquired: Crimson Lightning (???)
You’ve absorbed some unknown power. This power is constantly burning within your body, what exactly it is you don’t know, but it no longer at least seems harmful to you and seems to self-replenish enough for you to use it. Just what is the nature of this stolen power? You can likely release it if you wish, and turn it on your foes. However, it does not travel far through the air - it seems like it travels further through physical medium.

Regardless, Isidore would have seemed to succeed, but unfortunately for Isidore, as he’d refocus on his surroundings he’d feel Octavia pulling on the leg of his pants, whining and tugging harshly on his leg to get his attention.

Perhaps he should have thought that whatever made this was still nearby.

There was a hum of energy, crackling under him. More of that red lightning as the whining, whirring sound of electricity would fill his ears. A flash of red in the distance, shooting from the forest floor into the sky, before arcing right towards him!

Senses twitching, synapses firing, nerves ablaze with stimuli. No time for emotion to rise, no time for thoughts to crystallize. Scarlet light reflected in Isidore’s eyes, his right hand swatting Octavia away from him as his left hand rose up to meet the near-impossibly fast bolt.

Do or die. And no matter the result, don’t look back.

Isidore would raise a hand, attempting to deflect the bolt of crimson lightning. However - he would find that quite impossible. The moment the lightning would impact his left hand, instead of some ethereal, intangible power it would grab something quite solid.

“Tch, of course…”

Amidst the electricity he heard a voice, very briefly as the object in his grasp would twist slightly, turning in his hand. Next, was more pain. Something slammed into the side of his head, electrical burns as he was quite literally blasted yards away from the impact, landing face first against a tree root. Blood ran down his face. Something felt broken. The bolt of lightning would would continue its trajectory, landing right on the ground where he had been, slamming into the ground and soon dissipating into the ground beneath it.

Revealing…a…human, in its place.

Well, they looked vaguely human. Pointed ears. Black horns jutting from their forehead, tipped with a crimson red. Red and black thigh-high boots and heels. Long, pink hair in a braid fell to her feet. She was dressed in what seemed to be some sort of corset, with a leotard underneath in perhaps, some mock of what Isidore would know to be victorian fashion. A cloak hung from her shoulders, covering what little she seemed to be wearing elsewhere.

No visible weapons were seen on her, save for a cage hanging from her belt. Under her feet where she landed, the ground seemed to disintegrate into those little black rectangles as the same red electricity arced across her own body, leaving burn marks on the ground where she’d walk.

The source of the crimson lightning was likely to be this demon, then.

“First that bitch has the audacity to wake me from a nap, then I find some dumb bugs in the forest that won’t leave me alone, and finally some human wanders in here.” She’d laughed, but she wasn’t smiling. “Well, unlucky for you, I’m in a foul mood. Don’t worry, I’ll put that blood of yours to good use after I beat it out of you.”

She’d crack her knuckles, flexing a hand. Isidore didn’t have long to recover from the blow to the head.

Emerald Odyssey — An MMO Isekai RP (Now Accepting!)

Kokoma
Aluvera

---

"Heheh, aren't you a cute thing." Kokoma would take her time a bit, not wanting to spook the cub a bit too much. There was a method to this sort of thing, wasn't it? In the game she'd just have to defeat it under special conditions, or rarely find the egg or cub of some creature since she doubted this was some special thing like an Arachne. Hmm, well, since this was no longer looking to be a game...Probably no different than treating it like a normal wild cat? Slow, gentle...and then if it decided to get feisty, just look bigger and if it turned out that wild cat was a lion - pile drive it into the ground and show no mercy.

Wait no, that wasn't right.

"No need to be afraid. I'm not gonna hurt ya. Where are your parents at?" She'd question, stopping her attempts to free it for the moment. Instead, she'd get low to the ground, crouching not far away and holding out a hand. "See? I'm a friend! Not scary in the slightest!"

Dead Gods Dream: A post-apocalyptic divine action-adventure RP

Alasayana

---

Ah, such a lovely forest.

Calls of beasts, ripe for hunting. Birds, insects, flitting about freely in their domain. Unidentifiable noises, likely of some animal or beast that would make for a fine hunt. Ah, it was hard. Hard not to just break away from the group and do just that. As the Goddess of Hunting, the prospect of hunting something she had never hunted before was a powerful compulsion, to ignore it was practically driving her crazy. If she hadn't managed to get a good workout on those humans above, she might just find herself dragging her benefactor through the forest on a hunt. A good thing she didn't, since Flora looked like she was ready to pass out any second now. Thankfully Ashte had taken care of giving the girl a helping hand. She was a bit annoyed she couldn't do it herself, but she was better suited to handling anything that came their way than looking after mortals currently.

Was it bad to hope they were accosted by a beast?

"Ah, this forest almost reminds me of the forests surrounding the desert...Though the trees feel larger and creatures unfamiliar..." Alasayana would idly comment, having decided to take point. If nothing else, her keen senses would be able to detect most immediate threats before they were attacked, hopefully...well, supposing they hadn't entirely degraded as the rest of her abilities had. She could at least tell, there were large creatures further in. "I'm curious to how the beasts of this era would fare against I."

Dungeon Clearer! A Fantasy Adventurer RP

I shall attempt posting tomorrow

Dead Gods Dream: A post-apocalyptic divine action-adventure RP

Same

Will do a post tomorrow

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

Warlord and a Skill Seeker

---

@Crimson Paladin@VitaVitaAR

---

The trek back would be simple and easy, the forest not impeding their steps as they’d travel. The hunters would obediently follow their captors, not wanting to risk their lives any more than they’d have too. If nothing else, they did indeed seem entirely pacified. That just left what to do with them, and if Akando was right…that meant exile.

The only interruption they’d hear, is the sound of some commotion and the bright flash of some light descending somewhere to their south west towards the obelisk where the majority of them had found themselves first in this world at.

---

@PKMNB0Y

---

“Heheh, if there’s something I’m good at, its doing things under pressure. Probably. Never actually been under any sorta time constraint before.” Lazhira responded with a grin. “So, what are we doing?” Lazhira would ask Misaki, before quickly grabbing the fox girls hand and dragging her out of the tent seemingly forgetting that her life had just been likely in danger not too long ago. At least she was in eternal high spirits it seemed.

Soon they had come back to Lazhiras cabin. The loss of the water was, well, annoying but could easily be gotten again. Many of the plant had been rendered unusable, but there was maybe enough for at least, a single sheet left to show off.

“I think…you were boiling water?” Lazhira would question, though Misaki wouldn’t get many seconds to answer before a familiar fawn would nearly tackle her when it came out of hiding from the other side of the house. She could sense a faint hint of worry and relief with it, and also a bit of perhaps regret at not being able to help her itself.

Of course, this might have been briefly halted by the light show clearly going on at the Obelisk. Understandably, Lazhira’s eyes seemed fixed on it, and Misaki could clearly see the girl had an obvious desire to see what was going on over there.

Her Majesty

---

@Click This

“No problem, at all.” Mie would grin. “Its my job to make sure my customer is taken care of.” Which would leave Narkissa with the tools to do work with. So she’d get to work getting the rest of the tools together. A large cloth bag was easy enough to find, one that could hold a large quantity of blackpowder. There was also a mortar and pestle among the tools that could likely be used to grind everything up.

Wood was similarly likely easy enough to find again, either back at the lumberjacks place or cutting it down herself. Anything else, though, seemed like she was going to need a few custom tools, though she could likely find some applicable at the craftsmans place.

There was also some sort of odd lightshow going on at the Obelisk. Wasn’t that where Leannah was heading?

A Traveler
@PaulHaynek

---

The knife would sink into the skeletal hounds head, cracking bone as the knife was driven into it…though, what exactly the knife was meant to do to a skeletal being, remained to be seen. It would at least, however, give a whine of mild annoyance and release his leg long enough for Nicholas to scramble for his next action. A makeshift flamethrower.

A sip of oil…and a stream of fire would launch itself from the torch. Firebreathing in such a way was fairly easy to do by trained professionals back on earth…but Nicholas was neither trained or a professional. As the stream of fire sailed through the air, landing right on the hound that had bit him it would give a hiss of pain before clearly backing off. The second that had missed the lunge from earlier would turn, only to be met with another jet of flame from Nicholas.

They were certainly burned, and it seemed their canine instincts had taken over a bit, cautiously now looking at Nicholas like he might not be worth it…and thankfully for him, it seemed like they wouldn’t be pursuing further for the moment. Raising their heads towards the village and towards the snow field, they’d quickly lose interest in their current quarry before barking and heading off.

It was now that Nicholas might realize it felt like the edges of his mouth and cheeks had been burned slightly - the gout of fire backfiring a little, quite literally. It really was lucky he didn’t get hurt more than that.

It would be easy enough to follow the red hooded figure. They had left a rather obvious trail leading into the forest.

---

Back to Roots
@Guy0fV4lor@Crusader Lord

---

Back to Beginnings

Donovan grunted as he rose to his feet, stretching his arm and back as he turned to welcome Akando, "Ah, there yah are Akando, an' with good news tah boot!" the large man chuckled merrily. However, before he could question the hunter further on what he'd learned from the questioning, a familiar voice caught Don's attention.

"Honestleh aye'm more of ah dog person meself, but that ain't important right now. Th' lass is ah friend ah mine, an' she's someone weh can trust tah help what we're doin." he'd respond to Eirhild before waving back to approaching feline.

"Leannah! Didn't know yah were in Dawn! Aye'd ah found yah sooner if aye did!"

The female feline raised an eyebrow at Eirhild, but as she approached Don she gave a small laugh as she looked the man over. Intact and alive. Far more than she’d had hope for a few days ago. Even so, she gave the man a simple hug before stepping back. Was enough to show how happy she was, if her swishing Bastelian tail was not already any indication.

”Donovan! I would have done the same if I had known you were around! Even Malphas if I ran into him at this point. Feel like I was a tad harsh back there, as new as it all was.

Just glad to see you alive to be honest. Even walked along with Narkissa and ran into a scholar and gracious host in Dawn who has been...more than kind to be frank. Giving us housing and space, food, and even magic practice. It’s...ahem.”

Her words trailed off a little as she thought of Lazhira, spacing out slightly before shaking her head and trying to get to the point.

“Basically it's been a hell of a lot busier since, well, we were all in ‘that’ place. Might have tried to fight that Guardian there before running. Learned a bit of the history about it in the last few days even.”

Leannah gestured toward the obelisk with her head, a sigh escaping her lips.

“Seems I am a member of a not-so-well-loved race when it comes to locals too...maybe more, with how your other companion seems to look at me. Also played a game with the mad God of Knowledge and got half burned trying to not die to get information.

To even try to summarize any more of what I’ve seen and heard any more would take a lot longer than it seems you might have the time for though. You probably have your own stories to boot, and frankly you seem to have something going on right now at that.”

“Eh, sorry lass didn’t mean anything by it.” Eirhild said with a sheepish smile. “We don’t really know much about Bastelians. Us dwarves, that is. We keep to ourselves mostly. We occasionally trade harpy feathers with them - make pretty good pillows - but otherwise we give ya’ll a wide berth. Don’t wanna end up in some raiding party…”

Leannah glanced over at the sheepish dwarf, before the Bastelian rubbed the back of her own head. The Sage’s warnings, if she remembered correctly, came most definitely to mind. Do not just go about blabbing the full truth to everyone...could be a very bad thing indeed. Could put her on the hit list of some beings in this world.

Still...

“Truth is, I’ve never known my own people. Not that one or two things I’ve done have disproven what people seem to think about Bastelians. But whatever the case, I’ve only ever been about humans so far in my life.

From the sounds of it, it seems the rest of my kin are something of raiders and pillagers and not very hospitable to be around...or on the wrong end of their ire to be sure. Want to head over and see what they’re like with my own two eyes one day, but before then I have some things I need to get done.”

“More help is always welcome.” Akando would respond in turn. “Er, Leannah was it. Akando. I’m helping Donovan…” He’d turn his head to the older man. “The other two are heading back to the village with the others. They said something about a seal and that they were just doing what they thought was best…” He’d relay to the other man. “But what are we doing here? Mostly no one but Lazhira comes here. That thing…spooks people sometimes.”

The Bastelian raised an eyebrow for a moment, but swiftly chased off the look of curiosity as she nodded toward the Hunter. The fact it was two hunters, the same amount who had come to try to nab Lazhira, that had returned to the village left a slightly sour taste in the feminine feline’s mouth. It confirmed Akando had been kept out of the loop by Soyala and the rest of the Hunters, that was for sure. However, now was perhaps not the time to break the news to him about-

Donovan listened carefully to what Leannah said, tapping his fingers rhythmically against his chin as his eyes took on an almost gentle luster. He’d need to ask Leannah a bit more about this host of hers after he’d secured what they came here for-- as it was highly likely that any further magically skilled individuals in Dawn had connections to the seal’s sabotage.

"While aye’d love tah swap stories bout’ what weh been through since leavin’ ‘that’ place, yeh seem tah alreadeh know why weh don’t got tha’ time tah do et. Th’ seal’s on tha’ verge ah bustin’ wide open, an’ there ain't much time tah stop et… Based on what Akando’s said, seems mah gut feelin’ were right after all. Someone’s playin’ tha hunters an’ Kyrnith against each other, tryna buy time fer th’ seal tah break before they can be found out. Ain’t sure if et’s th’ Illuminator er not, but one thing’s fer certain… That seal’s gonnah break, an’ ain’t none of us can stop et… They’ve alreadeh won."

Donovan paused for a moment, raising a single finger as a wry grin crept across his face, "But what if aye told yah we got a new seal readeh tah throw down on top ah th’ failin’ one? Aye, et’ll take a bit ah work fer th’ final preparations an’ activation… But weh’d snatch victoreh from right under th’ enemy’s nose. Now, aye dunno bout you-- but if aye been spendin’ years on ah scheme, got victoreh in mah grasp, onleh tah find out some bastard were about tah turn th’ tables at th’ last moment on meh, aye’d come runnin’ tah stop et… Now, that there obelisk es connected tah ah ruin what’s got exactleh what weh need. Ah replacement fer th’ seal ripe fer th’ takin’. Weh make ah show ah headin’ over tah use it... Well, aye think our culprit’ll beh forced intah th’ open--” Donovan explained, his smile giving way to a far more serious expression as he went on to explains the risks, "But th’ ruin we’re headin’ intah is FAR from safe. Last aye saw there were ah big ol’ demon plant fightin’ ah pissed off pile ah livin’ rocks in there, an’ aye didn’t stick around tah see who won. Best case, tha both of em’ are dead. Worst case, weh gotta cut our way through ah fuckton ah nightmarish plant things that can cause yah a fate worse n’ death… Now, aye got means ah puttin’ tha damn things down an’ clearin’ they taint from folk-- but aye need tah know that tha lot ah yah understand what we’re headed intah, an’ won’t regret followin’ meh in here… So then, Akando, Eirhild, an’ ah course you included Leannah since yer here-- will yah follah meh intah what might damn well be hell tah save this village?"

Leannah froze in place, a cold chill running down her back at Donovan’s first revelations. In her mind, the fact that the seal was going to collapse anyway was far from good news. The Goddess had secured enough chaos in the village already, though the catgirl nearly would’ve hugged Donovan again at hearing his plan. She had been behind in a lot of areas, but it seemed the man had enough of an idea to help with the problem...and by driving out the root of the issue it would make punching it in the face far easier.

“Well, it’ll be the second time for me so I’ll join along. Just...if the big guy is still roaming around, let me buy you all time.”

That thing was not going to play nice, but neither was she if it was still around. If it was. For all she knew the place had time passing differently within and was already rotted away. All she knew was the Illuminator’s divine realm was something strange, those monstrous things were potentially wandering around as well, and if there was a chance she could get a spear or her old one back that would be nice. On the note of the Illuminator and things, though...

“...And, ah, Donovan. I will need to talk to you and Akando on the way back after this little adventure. Very seriously.

But if we wait any longer right now and that seal breaks, there won’t be a moment to talk in the first place.”

“Well, Donovan.” Eirhild would say. “I already agreed to help. Might be able to find some rare materials here…but I don’t see any sorta ruin or nightmare plant? You sure we’re in the right place?”

“I’m already here. I see no reason to refuse.” Akando would say with a determined nod.

"Right then," Donovan would respond with a nod of his own, pulling off his necklace with his right hand as he approached the black obelisk at the cliffside, "Get them torches readeh. Anythin’ that looks like tar– burn et. Once weh get in, call out any an’ all movement yah see, even if yah think it were just ah trick o’ tha light. If yah get wounded by somethin’, tell meh immediately… Else yah might end up as ah demon thrall if aye don’t cleanse tha’ taint quick enuff… That’s all aye got left tah warn yah bout’, aye’m gonna open th’ path.”

Holding his emblem to the face of the obelisk, Donovan closed his eyes and began his prayer; his magic surging through every syllable that passed his lips. "Oh Suthainn, aye call upon yer power– may th’ path long forgotten lay open once more. Show us th’ way to th’ land ah twin moons… Guide us tah where this journey began. Take us home again; tah our place ah beginnings. Amen."

Donovan’s gathered group would nod in, at least, some understanding even if they weren’t a hundred percent sure what he was speaking about.

So Donovan would start to entreat his divine patron. A simple prayer, really…but sometimes the simplest things were the most difficult things to achieve. A few seconds after he’d finish, he would have his answer. Suddenly, that little bit of stored divine mana he had would vanish near instantly. A small prick of light would appear at the bottom of the obelisk in the center. The emblem would start becoming hot in his hand, as more of this prayer would drain more and more of the magical energy Donovan had, and as more was drained, the small prick of light on the obelisk would slowly travel upwards, forming a line heading for the top of it.

The only concern…was that he wasn’t going to have enough energy by himself to do this. He had already completely spent nearly half, and it was barely a third ‘open’. It seemed like the obelisk was completely eating his stored reserves now.

As she noticed the light stop moving upward on the obelisk, Leannah felt an inkling that something was wrong. Not with the obelisk perchance, though she needed to ask who ‘Suthainn’ was eventually, but with what little she knew of ‘magic’ here she had a suspicion this was taking something out of Donovan as well. Like some magic ritual….in that case, he wasn’t going to be alone!

The Bastelian hurried over to Donovan, placing her hands on his back and closing her own eyes. Focus. Concentrate. Channel her own magical energy into the other man, like the flow of a river. It wasn’t a spell that should go crazy, it was related to light or the sun at least, but just moving that magical energy into him nice and evenly and smoothly was the focus. In. Out. Like focusing on her martial arts training.

Leannah would focus on transferring her own magic into Donovan. Her own breathing. The beating of her heart. The sounds of the ocean below…the feeling of her own magic, moving within her. It would take a bit of focus but she could eventually feel that of Donovans - and she was right to be concerned. It was attempting to suck out nearly every ounce of magical energy from him.

Like filling a bucket with a hole, she’d start pouring her own into Donovan - though it was draining faster than she could fill it. Would it work? The line of light traveling up the obelisk was moving faster, now about halfway.

Donovan would feel his entire body grow hot, and the emblem in his hand even hotter. Flesh searing and burning into his right hand. Sweat would form. His legs would feel weak, not wanting to support his weight. His stomach wanted to throw up whatever it was he had eaten recently. He could barely keep his own arm held out, as though his entire body was simply rejecting this action.

Ever so slowly, the light would continue moving up - and for a brief moment…it would look like to the both they weren’t going to have enough, even combined. The light had peaked just under the apex of the obelisk. Akando and Eirhild were shouting something, likely out of concern, but he couldn’t exactly make out what. His hearing had temporarily left, ears ringing with the sound of gears grinding, the pendulum of a clock swaying. There was definitely something keeping him standing…something tightly coiling around his legs, keeping him upright.

And then, with a final lurch the light would finally ascend to the apex of the obelisk. All at once Donovan would lose his footing, unable to stand anymore, whatever it was holding him up releasing him.

The ordeal of opening the path felt as if it took a small eternity to Don. Any thought he’d had was replaced with the sound of mechanisms and clockwork combined with the absolute agony that had become his reality. Even as the flesh of his own palm bubbled, blistered and burned, the man couldn’t even muster a scream; his breath violently ripped from his very lungs. He wanted to fall, to collapse, to faint– anything to put an end to what he was feeling. No matter how much he may have wanted to fall to his knees, to cry out, to lurch away… He couldn’t. Only when the ritual had reached completion did the man’s knees finally give way, Donovan’s body collapsing onto the snow-covered ground like a child’s discarded toy as the world faded from his vision.

However, Donovan would not get too long to rest.

The moment the light reached the top of the obelisk, it would grow in size to that of a small baseball, a sphere of light that would suddenly shoot a thin laser of light at the base of the structure.

“W-what did you do?” Eirhild would shout in question. Akando said nothing, merely quickly dashed over to help Leannah support Donovan so he didn't crumple on the ground like a rock.

The laser would quickly travel across the ground in a straight line, until it would shoot towards the horizon, far out at sea. A blink of light from far off. The image of a large, black tower would flash in the distance. The laser would travel upwards more, until it was completely vertical and shooting towards the distant sky.

“Sages blood…what on earth…” Eirhild could only watch the proceeding event as a pillar of light would descend upon the Obelisk. A flash of monochrome. The base of the Obelisk would slowly start to move. The smooth stone slowly splitting, moving apart at the middle of it, the sound of stone clacking against each other as they would magically be pulled apart, until they would rearrange themselves into what was ostensibly, a doorway.

Through the door, one could see not the interior or other side of the obelisk…but a monochrome colored world. Perhaps, though it was the other side of the obelisk. If one happened to take a moment to look, it was easy to see - the way this cliff connected to the otherside of the door was far too contiguous to be coincidence.

Regardless, Donovan seemed to have completed that which he set out to do. The door was large enough to get the carts through comfortably - but at the same time, it did not seem like the door would be open for long.

The Bastelian appreciated the help from Akando to support Donovan, though as soon as the gate was open the feminine feline grimly gritted her teeth and gestured with her head toward the cart with her head. She did her best to try to put one of Donovan’s arms around the back of her neck, mostly so she could support one side of the man and Akando the other. It was go time.

“Donovan, you absolute idiot!

Akando, help me get Donovan into the cart for the moment. Then please stay with him to keep an eye on our rear in case anyone approaches.

And Eirhild, can you steer the cart through the portal? If that was a sign to anyone that we’re up to something here, then that was one. So we have to get moving fast if we want to get this seal and get back out in time.

I can explain what this place is later, but safe to say I and Donovan have been there before. So take these warnings to heart.”

If things went as Leannah tried to help organize it, she would help load up Donovan before moving back toward the front of the cart and motioning for the other two to follow in it. She would stop at the front of the Gateway for only a few seconds to speak in turn before she would head through with the cart and company right behind her (optimally).

“I’ll head through with you, but will be in front and the first to pass through. Just in case anything lies ahead of us right as we go in. If you see anything that looks like demons or something that was once human, aim to kill. They won’t give you the time of day.

If you see a giant stone golem walking around, you leave it to me and take a different path in a hurry and don’t look back.

If you see ancient weapons lying on the ground, feel free to pick them up for your own use or something but don’t get stopped by it. This path doesn’t seem like it will last too long.

If anyone tries to come up behind us or after us into this place, assume they are a threat that wants to stop us. No matter who or what they are, familiar or friend or unknown alike. For all we know the one causing the trouble in Dawn is going to approach us if they get here in time…or will try to keep us from getting out in time if they can get here in time.”

Leannah didn’t have to tell Akando twice. He’d grab Donovan by the shoulder, lifting him to his feet and with the help of the Bastelian and dwarf he’d soon be slumped over on the cart next to Eirhild.

“Gotcha lass, moving in.” The dwarf would respond. While she had many questions, she also knew better than to ask anything now it seemed as she’d give the reigns a little pull, and the Kin pulling them would give a complainative huff before starting to move towards the gate behind Leannah. “Stone giant, dangerous. Plants also bad. Sounds like a bad night after drinkin’ too much in Gloomhaven.” She’d chuckle. “Free weapons though, that sounds fun.”

“The village definitely noticed whatever…this was, but if we hurry no one should be able to come to us.” Akando would say, grabbing the reins on the second cart and urging the beast to move forwards.

As the carts began to move, Donovan found himself unceremoniously jettisoned from the void of unconsciousness and back in the waking world. The man stirred with a groan as his bleary eyes hazily scanned his surroundings. "Eugh, aye know that weren't gonna beh pleasant, but aye didn't think et'd be that bad… Guess weh know why them scholar don't let nobodeh near th' one in yer hall ah records eh Eirhild?"

Donovan managed to force a weak chuckle before it devolved into a small coughing fit. "Aye… Aye think aye'm gonna take ah wee bit yah get meself sorted… Just get us in there fore' that damned thing closes."

The large man lifted his palm to his mouth, and pried the emblem from his palm; melted skin sticking to the metal like overcooked cheese. Don slumped back in his seat and closed his eyes; the emblem held tightly between his teeth. He felt drained of life. Completely damned empty. A walking husk. But… Around him he could feel that familiar buzzing energy, slowly working it's way inside him with every breath. Only-- it didn't seem to be helping much… Compared to what even a fleck of what the small bit of divine magic he'd managed to stockpile earlier, what he was taking in now was like drinking day-old water to rehydrate during a sweltering day in the sun. It was a damned shame it took so much effort to get it to co-exist with the regular stuff… But what if there wasn't any regular magic to butt heads with? An idea surfaced in Donovan's mind… One that had the potential to make the backlash from that hellish ritual work to his benefit instead.

He couldn't help but smile.

Passing through would cause their skin to feel as though they were moving through some sort of thin film, a shortness of brief breath as they’d ultimately pass through the gate. Leannah and Don, returning to where they had been a few days prior. As he was pulled along the cart, barely conscious, Donovan would turn his Focus on the emblem, he would attempt to channel whatever energy he could through it, and return it to himself.

In. Out. Steady breathing. It was a rather dangerous thing to attempt. He could feel his strength start slipping further the moment he began. Converting it outside of his body seemed to be more tiring than when it was inside, like trying to breathe in a vacuum, but the moment he contained it within himself he’d notice the effects - that is to say, it was working, at least somewhat. It would return to the miniscule amount that it had been earlier, and soon, it would be more. Nearly doubling in the amount contained - and then it would abruptly stop becoming less like sucking and more like attempting to breathe despite one's lungs already full.

Regardless though, it seemed the brief focus was able to completely return his mana to him plus a little extra.

Goddess Note

Ability Gained: Divine Meditation (lesser)
A simple enough skill. By focusing ones meditative attempts through faith and divine imagery, one may both increase the speed at which ones energy regenerates and perhaps, house just a bit more. Be warned, however - such power is not without risk to ones humanity.

In total, it would take about five minutes fully to get his energy back. Not something useful in the midst of full combat, but overall something useful indeed.

“What…on earth is this place…” Akando’s voice would break his concentration as they’d arrive back in the field where they had fled for their lives earlier. At least, what remained of it.

It was now a massive sinkhole, leading right down to where that demonic plant had been earlier. The stone golem lay there, dead, lifeless, with vines and plants having restrained it. The joints in its body though, still glowed a faint blue occasionally. Oddly, there didn’t seem to be any thralls left…none alive at least. It was hard to make out from at the top of the sinkhole, but there seemed to be numerous corpses of what were once thralls. The plant itself had wilted completely, the flowers petals all having rotted and withered away, leaving nothing but a lifeless husk.

“...oi, are these dwarvish?!” Eirhild would ask, hopping from the cart in her excitement and heading over to where a few weapons had been scattered. “I think they are! These look like the old weapons those dumb scholars keep under lock and key in their vaults!” She wasn’t seeming to refer to any one in particular, but rather, the entirety of the weapons left here.

Unbeknownst to the group however, a little fox had followed them in, quickly darting to the old guardhouse while they were focused on the area in front of them.

---

@Pyromania99

“Well, since I already have a decent grasp of what you can do,” Rullphana would say with a nod. “We’ll start by pushing those talents of yours to the limits - creatively, at least. Magic, if used creatively, can overcome any obstacle. Don’t worry, you won’t be in danger.”

Leuca was currently concentrating hard on her own task, frowning. Augusta could tell she was channeling magic towards the pile of earth, but it was weak. She definitely wasn’t used to using it, but still…a few seconds later a small sprout would rise from the earthen mound.

“Ah…I did it!”

“Indeed…now do it again. Faster this time.” Rullphana would say to Leuca. “I want a different plant in each of those pots by the time I return. The seeds I have are highly reactive to magic, and will change depending on what sort of mana they're exposed to. Get to it.”

“E-eh!? O-okay I think…I can do that…”

“Augusta, if you’ll follow me…” Rullphana would lead Augusta to the back wall of the tower, where a door would quite literally, just open in front as the wall of the giant mushroom would pull back, leading to a set of stairs that headed upwards. “You’ve managed to successfully, somehow, blend both healing magic and fire magic. Some would consider this contradictory, but those who understand the nature of both of these elements will see that they are not quite as incompatible. While I don’t think you showed me what you are fully capable of…you clearly have both the basics and control down, and at least understand the fundamental ability that magic can shift depending on the will of the one casting it.” She would fix Augusta with a quizzical, expectant gaze. “But before I go on, what do you expect to get out of learning magic? And is there anything specifically you wish to learn? I will offer guidance where I am able, but ultimately if you’re at this point discovery will rely on your own intuition or sharing what I know.”

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Send Feet Pics
@Cu Chulainn

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And fish he did.

He’d sit there, edge of the water, contemplating his situation. Whatever went on in there? Well, only he knew in the end, and perhaps, even the divine beings of this realm since they seemed the curious and invasive sort. The gentle breeze would chill his skin with a wintry, sea air as he’d think of these things.

What really did it mean to be human? Love life? Indulge in ones pleasures, as they saw fit? Simply believing in oneself above all else? If so, then, what of his previous cult. He made people believe in him above all else. Would he let their faith go to waste so easily? Or was this him furthering such things, believing that he was indeed, a human of peak perfection?

Only time would tell, in the end.

Suddenly something would snag on his fishing rod. Something strong enough to cause him to temporarily struggle as the line was pulled. But soon, he would indeed, pull it up, landing his catch.

A fish.

An absolutely massive fish, from the look of it. It was about as long as his arm-span and about a foot from its belly to the top of its spines. Heavy too. Perhaps it was a sign of success…but that would mean he’d even think such things exist. No, this gargantuan fish would be all thanks to his expertise and human ability, of course.

“Gods…that’s one of the rarest fish in these parts!” A nearby fisherman would shout. “Normally they’re only found on the long days…” Before Malphas had a chance to consider his victory though, an Oni would make his way over.

“Fishing, huh…respectable pastime.” It’d comment. “Nomura, Lady Mie wishes to see you.”