Fantasy Rifts [IC][Closed]

[joshuadim]

Ser Broz listened first to Fraskia's explanation as she jumped in to create a suitable alibi for Ser Faralt, before Edoardo joined in afterwards to add onto it. He looked on wordlessly first towards the burnt knight then back towards the various faces of the group and gave a slow nod. "I hope your curse be lifted soon then, Ser." the Justicar then spoke to Faralt, before mounting his horse. It was hard to tell whether or not he believed the story, but by all accounts he seemed to not press the issue. "Come now, we can make it to Leskau by nightfall if we pick up the pace. Best to be off these roads by night."

Arnas and the others quickly boarded the cart once more and followed Ser Broz's lead as he went on a trotting pace. Chowder and Abdula kept the group's speed well enough as to not let one another out of sight as they travelled through the woods. The sun sank further down as afternoon became dusk, and the sights of the forest continued for a time without interruption. The woods were plentiful and green, as expected, but an unease began to fill the air as they came closer to their destination at last. Ser Broz shuddered and spoke with apprehension: "They say the very air is cursed around the city ever since that Rift opened near it. None dare live here now, out of fear of what might happen."

The woods thinned out to reveal untended farms, lost to the passage of time as well as the chaos of the Rift itself as pockets of dead soil marred the fields. There too were the strange sights of cracks in the ground, filled with arcane energies not of this world. There was also the sight of deathly pale crystals that jutted out of the corpses of long deceased farm animals, likely having perished when the Rift first tore through the region, and around the corpses as well. It almost seemed alive, in a sense, like how moss would grow on a felled tree.

THE ABANDONED CITY OF LESKAU

The only life that seemed to flourish were the plants, as well as the crows that sang their murder in the skies above. Ser Broz grimaced as he observed their surroundings and let out a sigh. "Too many lives were lost, and too many more lost everything they had here. Entire lives uprooted... some say the refugees were why this war started in the first place. But I would never put blame on victims of circumstance."

Arnas himself looked with his own apprehension at the many houses and buildings, once teeming with life, now reduced to husks of themselves. The same fate that now awaited Ember had already beset this place. So long as the Rift was here, this city would never be habitated again. "I can't imagine how terrible things were for the people back then. Having to flee to cities and towns they had never called home... I wish them all the best. Whatever good my wishes would do."

"Every prayer helps. Even if you might not think so, young Ser."

"I'm not a knight, there's no need to call me Ser." Arnas quickly turned towards Ser Broz, insisting on his words.

"Still you conduct yourself better than most knights regardless. Is that not worthy of praise?" Broz quickly replied out of sincerity, before shrugging. "Did the Guardian say where you were needed here?"

"At the Rift itself. That the Court Scholars might cause us some headaches on approach-"

Ser Broz let out a dry laugh at the notion of scholars presenting an issue. "They are no more than bureaucrats who flaunt their weight with their position. They'll buckle the moment that you present the Guardian's talisman to them. It's this way." The paladin led the group's cart forward as they circled around the city's exterior and went down a seldom trodden road through an abandoned strip of houses. Arnas remained quiet, but others perhaps not if they wanted to learn more of the history of this place from the Justicar if they so desired.

Arnalia Beann Breadman Chaos Gallant Oreo Cookie Worthlessplebian

 

[Arnalia]

Lucina Lux​

Lucina remained silent after the fight was over and all her companions cared for. Checking and rearranging her supplies over and over. A moment passed before she signed, and turned away to look at the sun finding it way through the thick trees. The wisp of a smile on her face. Among chaos and blood, there still was beautiful things. The priestess rested as best as she could before the cart stopped and shook her awake. The last to hop off, as the scene unfolded before her eyes. Lucina was in no hurry to arrive.

As the deserters were put to death, her shoulders lowered and she turned away ever so slightly. Even if it was the law, even if she understood, even if she saw it more then she would have liked. Lucina found such punishment cruel. Bloodshed to punish bloodshed, a life for a life, an eye for an eye. Did slitting the throat of your brother's murderer do anything ? Except provoked his brother to slit yours too, before the cycle repeated with your children. Not every soul would be saved, but she knew that most could. Why not those deserters ? Why was the only solution to violence and brutality was more of it and not less ? Brother Jo never made his opinion clear on what he thought of it all. But each time she brought up the subject, all she received was a sad smile. If only we could do more, he used to say. Lucina hated seeing him like this, resigned, defeated, hopeless.

Ser Faralt voice cut through the priestess broody mind. Back in the present, Lucina barely had the time to greet Ser Broz by a nod that Fraskia took the lead. The priestess instinctive response at her companion boldly lying to a paladin of Ragul was to frown. Then as Edoardo joined in, she held back and tried her best to look neutral. But the tightness of her posture and the glimmer of uncertainty in her gaze made it clear that she wasn't on board. At all. Servants of Ragul were supposed to be just. And would be among the few ready to disobey kings if they did not respect the spirit of laws, or have any moral or honor. Of course they could be ruthless if they felt it necessary. But Lucina also knew that otherwise they were understanding and kind.

Beside, Ser Broz seemed to be more informed then most. Aside from his age as a clear mark of experience, someone familiar with the guardian was probably not just anyone. At the blank expression the Justicar gave to her companions lie. Lucina had a hunch that the elaborate deception did not, in fact, work at all. She mentally signed and took note to deal with this later. Making an enemy of a paladin of Ragul was not something she wanted.

When the group arrived to Leskau, Lucina turned to Ser Broz and said. "I was far too young to remember what happened in details. But I learned it was a rough time for our temple and dare not ask further," she shook her head. "Ser Broz, is there anything useful or of interest we should know about this place ?" Lucina then sat closer to the Justicar and lowered her voice. "And...if I may. Would you happen to have any news of how my order is doing ? I- Well, I left on a mission when the war just started. Only the importance of the task given to us by the Guardian convinced me to put it aside. At least for now..." she crossed her arms, trying to reassure herself.



joshuadim

 

[Chaos Gallant]

Terrence listened as the clergy and magicfolk did their best to convince Broz that their undead companion was in fact not that. Terrence was already back in the cart before the conversation had reached its end, ready to make for a quick escape if the talks fell apart, but to his surprise Ser Broz had offered up his presence as escort. It was certainly a nicety to have an extra hand on guard, especially a paladin. However, the fact that this left more room for a discovery of Ser Faralt's true situation left Terrence feeling just a tad uneasy.

"Let us make way then, Ser Broz is right, and I doubt we need that reminder." Terrence shrugged remembering what had happened back in Ember. Once the party was aboard once more, he cracked the reins, ushering Chowder and Abdul's forward.

The sky grew dark as they made their way towards Luskau, the mood did likewise. Terrence only listened as Ser Broz explained what had happened in the area. The stories brought him back to thoughts of his home. He tried to keep his worries at bay, there was barely a doubt in his mind that a rift or two would be able to even make a dent in Dandolio’s walls, but the smallest of lingering uncertainties hid in the back of his mind.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Edoardo Vargas Melcher​

It seems that their duplicitous arguments convinced the Paladin, though Edoardo simply couldn't be sure. He wobbled over to the cart. His body had been distressed by the wounds, he all but crawled into the back. A noxious thought entered his mind that Ser Faralt's condition might be given away sooner than expected, but so far Ser Broz seemed to be of reasonable stock for a paladin. Edoardo has only met one before, but his name and order escapes him.

"I would take a moment's rest as well." Edoardo called, before gently slumping on his seat with back against the cantle. He fell softly into a slumber.

The rest did not last, actually it was a wonder he even managed to sleep with the sharp pains, but it did good for how little it stood. The skies melted into dark grays as they approached Luskau. The crocodile priest's internal ears listened carefully, and with a foreboding sense, as Ser Broz detailed this town's sordid fate. Quite a dreadful indeed, Edoardo's thoughts dwelled on his nation. They're a hardy folk, but they've never witnessed such an event. He wonders how they'd deal with it.

 

[joshuadim]

On Lucina's inquiry, Ser Broz scratched his chin as he collected his answers to both lines. "Of interest here? I wouldn't say *interest* but rather *danger*. The city itself is dead, but who knows what lies beyond the walls themselves." the Justicar spoke as he nodded his head towards the imposing defences of the city. Even without its inhabitants, they still remained strong and upright to do their duty. "I myself won't venture inside unless duty calls for it. But I could not fathom what duty would arise to bring me to the city interior. And I pray that I never have to."

The subject then changed as Broz turned attention towards the other inquiry that Lucina had brought up: "The Alandran Healers, bless them, are doing the best they can in a bad situation. Your brothers and sisters are overworked as is, but press on to save lives." Broz spoke with a reassuring tone to his fellow of the Faith before offering a solemn smile. "I'm sure they will understand that a task given by the Guardian and its importance beckons your attention."

The group went around a soft bend of the road into the view of the subject of their destination: the Rift of Leskau. A gaping hole into reality itself, swirling with power and energy, that had doomed this place twenty years prior. But unlike the one the group had experienced at Ember, this one seemingly peaceful as it remained static and in place. Like a dormant, or perhaps dead, volcano it stood as a testament to the destructive power of forces beyond mortal reckoning. It also visibly lacked the menacing red color, and was instead a much more peaceful appearing shade of blue. And it was now the subject of constant study by Merishian court scholars as several tents were pitched around the Rift itself and activity of robed scolares worked.

There too were guards placed to keep an eye on things, and when they spotted the approaching group they immediately sprung to action to block their entrance into the encampment. "Halt! State your business here!" one of the guards shouted, rather annoyed that they had to perform duties instead of lounging as they had been.

"We're here on business of the Guardian," Arnas quickly spoke up as he was eager to get this job over with and presented the figure's talisman that he had been given, "and require entry-"

"Any old sod can claim they're sent by the Guardian-" the guard retorted, initially not believing the story but was quickly rebuked by an intense stare from Ser Broz.

"Let them in. Or I'll have you for obstruction of duty, soldier." the Paladin spoke with a menacing tone, rather unwilling to be delayed in this matter that quickly shut the soldier up as visible apprehension overtook his face. He looked at the Justicar for a moment, before to Arnas and nodded: "...you can pass."

The guards stepped aside and allowed Chowder and Abdula to press onwards with the wagon in tow, with Ser Broz following alongside. Arnas himself was impressed by how quickly Ser Broz had instituted order in what might have been a messy situation, but Ser Faralt was less than pleased as he looked back to the men behind them. "...was that really necessary Ser?" he asked with a disapproving tone, "They have plenty reason to not trust our word."

"Then they have my word to go by, Ser." the paladin replied in a blunt manner, which made the burnt knight sight and not press the issue further. Arriving at the main camp at last, the group dismounted to look at their surroundings, noticing that the scholars nearby looked on to their coming with confusion as they were out of place. One of them approached hesitatingly: "Ahem, good evening to you all. Why are you, uhm, here?" the wiry man asked with concern.

But before Arnas could respond, the Guardian's talisman grew hot - too hot - and caused the young mercenary to drop it as a reflex. It shook and glowed with power, before an arc of energy from the Rift nearby shot out and struck it. Upon impact, it caused a small portal to materialize nearby which in turn brought out the familiar face of the Guardian through as he stepped out onto the dirt and grass. "Because I am needed here." the Guardian replied flatly, whose presence caused the other scholars to immediately shirk back in awe as well as additional confusion.

He turned to Arnas and the others and gave a nod: "Well done on arriving in good time."

Arnalia Beann Breadman Chaos Gallant Oreo Cookie Worthlessplebian

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Edoardo Vargas Melcher​

The warrior-priest of the Marshlands sat with his back straight. Or tried to, his posture was off from the injuries sustained. But his eyes were possessed of a cold, determined blaze. Though diminished, death will not claim him easily. The soft-bend in the road opened to the rift of Leskau. Edoardo stared intently at the swirling, contorting space-time wound. Its soft, sky hues pleased the crocodilean. A perverted sense of appreciation like admiring a weapon of mass destruction. A thing that housed destructive and terrible power, eliciting fear as well as respect or admiration for its construction. But one fact caught Edoardo's eyes, a minute but still erroneous notion: why are their tents so near the rift?

A claw, grey like a sea rock, meandered up to scratch Edoardo's snout with inquisitiveness. But figured that he'll get the opportunity to ask about it from one of the scholars there.

He remained deathly silent when the guard on post stopped them. Merely not wishing to create unneeded drama or delay or worse, especially if they react harshly to his species. However, it seems with the timely intervention of Ser Broz that there wouldn't be any further delay. Edoardo nodded his head appreciatively. Perhaps if his multifarious cohorts ever visited the ancestral lands then he could return the favour.

They stopped at the central camp, he watched the scholars be confused or curious at their approach. Like a pack of startled antelopes. The thought tickled his stomach with a mote of hunger. Banishing the odd cravings, he returned to the task at hand as he lightly hopped off the back. One of the braver scholars risked coming closer. Edoardo watched as Arnas was about to answer before the young mercenary dropped the amulet as if he grabbed a torch's blazing end. Edoardo uttered a silent prayer while his swordarm prepared his khopesh. Only to relax the anxious act when the Guardian appeared.

With the Guardian present Edoardo thought to ask his earlier question. "I recognize that the scholars would've perceived this, but" His finger gently pointed at the tents crowding the tortuous rift. "Is it really so safe to be so near? I do know certain magicks could radiate undesirable maladies." He asked, aware and edged with curiousity. Awaiting an answer, simple or complex from either the scholar or Guardian.

joshuadim

 

[Chaos Gallant]

Terrence nodded in agreement to Edoardo’s questions or the Guardian. “One would think there would be more caution when setting up camp around one of the devilish things. At the very least some barricades to form a perimeter. ‘Oh the lion is sleeping, let us gather round and have dinner, surely it well not wake to the scent of fresh meat.’” He shook his head in disapproval. The orc stared over at the dormant rift for a moment before bringing his attention back to the Guardian. “Now then, I get the feeling that while our original contract has been fulfilled, the ‘further employ’ clause you had mentioned is about to come into play. What exactly are we doing here?”

 

[joshuadim]

The Guardian shook his head at both the concerns of Edoardo and Terrence: "No. The original rifts have stayed dormant. If there were any threat of them erupting as they did in their inception, I would have closed them many years ago. I should close them regardless, but the realms who have a rift within them practically begged me on their hands and knees to keep them open. I would rather not deal with the headache of angry envoys and letters as there are more pressing matters at this time - as you know." the sorcerer explained before nodding to Terrence's next question. "While I investigate the rift here for any similarities with the one that appeared at Ember-"

An audible gasp of shock was heard from the head of the court scholars nearby as his face visibly paled. "There were other rifts?" he asked with worry, "Since when?"

"Not too long ago. Regardless, it is under control for the time being." the Guardian quickly spoke after a groan, shutting down that line of inquiry as he looked back to Terrence. "Now. As I was saying, I will be investigating the rift. You all will enter the town to see if any... anomalies have popped up. Anything that might stand out of the ordinary from an already destroyed region."

"Well, how are we supposed to differentiate that? We're not wizards like you." Arnas chimed in as he crossed his arms.

"Use your intuition."

The phrasing was blunt, but not filled with any annoyance or ill-intent as Arnas blinked a few times before shrugging. "Alright I guess..." he said as he looked towards the abandoned town nearby.

"If you have any other queries, do speak them now or else I will divert my focus towards the rift." the Guardian then spoke, looking for any additional questions patiently as he set his hand behind him.

Arnalia Beann Breadman Chaos Gallant Oreo Cookie Worthlessplebian

 

[Breadman]

The lie had appeared to have worked just fine. The others might object, but if they were truthful, they would be gambling with the life of their ally. Something they didn't have a right to. Now if the paladins themselves were to raise this as an issue, she'd take the responsibility for it. But that bridge would be crossed if they got to it.

Now they were once again working with the guardian and his whims. They were already in the lion's den and now he wanted them to go poke around for him while he plays around with the rift. Damn wizards. The knight crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"What if the anomalies turn out to be too troublesome for us alone? I doubt that whatever is out there is just a few misplaced objects or a odd looking tree."

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Edoardo Vargas Melcher​

The priest looked to the guardian with a face of confusion. Or as emotive as a face of hard scales and snaggleteeth could look. He rubbed the back of his palm against his forehead. "No, Guardian. I meant as in residual effects like... " Edoardo stopped himself, heading peeling off to look elsewhere. He found a way to illustrate an idea. "Like a campfire. You huddle around the flame, it radiates warmth. Warms your skin, your blood. Your bones. It is dormant, as you say, but even a dormant volcano may still sear the flesh off your skin. Is anything like that feasible? " The warrior priest waved a hand to the twisting sea-blue void noticeably.

Damn sorcererous ways. At least with faith, you'll know your benefactor and the gift.

Edoardo also nodded along with Fraskia's observation. However, the reptilian doubts severely if the Guardian would give a concrete answer, alluding to them needing to intuit their quarry, he mentioned moments ago.

 

[joshuadim]

"What if the anomalies turn out to be too troublesome for us alone? I doubt that whatever is out there is just a few misplaced objects or a odd looking tree."

The Guardian looked away to ponder the question for a brief moment before outstretching a hand towards Fraskia. In his palm materialized three small, identically smooth orbs that looked like oversized marbles. Wisps of color danced across their surfaces, like tumultuous clouds, and emanated a soft rainbow-glow from each that danced across the Guardian's skin in wonderful patterns. Fraskia took them as the Guardian explained their purpose: "If there is something blocking your path. Throw one of these at them and it will clear the way for you. Consider it fighting fire with fire - using energy from the Rift itself, samples I had collected years prior, to cancel out other riftborne creations and oddities."

Arnas took a glance at the little pearls out of curiosity before looking back towards the Guardian. "You managed to take a part of the Rift itself?" he asked with curiosity, "How does that work?"

"Think of it as skimming the top of boiling broth. The stew itself is potent and raging, but its surface is safe enough to harvest and pull out. Though, the scholars themselves haven't a clue about that it seems despite having decades of study." the Guardian commented, looking towards the courtly figure nearby who in turn looked away with embarrassment. The scholar visibly muttered under his breath to himself, lambasting himself as for not even thinking of such a thing in the first place.

"No, Guardian. I meant as in residual effects like... Like a campfire. You huddle around the flame, it radiates warmth. Warms your skin, your blood. Your bones. It is dormant, as you say, but even a dormant volcano may still sear the flesh off your skin. Is anything like that feasible? "

The Guardian then turned his attention to Edoardo's own inquiry. "It's as I said. If the Rift was dangerous even now, I would not have allowed it to remain open as it is currently."

"But could it become dangerous again?" Arnas then asked, positing a difficult question that the Guardian had indeed already considered in the past.

"I find it highly unlikely. It has been twenty years and not so much as any additional difficulties erupting from these ones." the Guardian mused, but then scratched his chin. "...but given recent events, it would be prudent to prepare for any eventuality. I will keep a closer eye on them." He then returned his attention back to the Rift and waved the group off. "Now, I will need to get to work. Ser Broz can be your guide through the town itself."

The Paladin looked unenthusiastic about entering the dead settlement, but he mustered himself quickly as he gave a nod towards the others he had escorted here up to this point. "Very well. Come. We'll be on foot, I'd rather not risk our steeds within the walls."

Chowder and Abdula were hitched on a post with the wagon nearby, allowing them rest after a day's arduous travels with well deserved water and food given to them. Once everyone was gathered, Ser Broz took everyone onto the dirt road that brought them towards the once illustrious main gates of Leskau. Before, it had welcomed travelers, merchants, and residents alike with its stony embrace. But now, it was a headstone that painted a canvas for the devastation that lay within. "Keep your weapons in hand, in case we run into any trouble." Ser Broz said as he kept a hand placed onto his scabbard.

Inside, the devastation was amplified to a greater degree than the abandoned houses outside the town's abandoned defences. Here, building had been either ripped apart by crystalline growths in their entirely or, in some instances, lifted up from the ground as the riftborne crystals grew inside and around them like a fungus. There were also a variety of newer, and far stranger sights that greeted the group. Streaks of energy painted the air like brushstrokes, emanating a glowing hue that pierced through wood, rock, earth, and stone; there too were bodies trapped in time in a picturesque manner. People's final moments immortalized as pale white crystals grew out of their skin and orifices, fear laced in their eyes towards an unknowable terror that had crept upon their home.

Large gaps in the earth opened up into large chasms underneath, filled with skittering insect-like creatures with flesh-like carapaces that fed upon the crystals that grew from the Rift itself. A product of worlds colliding in bringing different forms of life to this place. And there too were clouds of strange coloured gases that danced across the rooftops, as if moving of their own volition rather than from the breeze. As if they themselves were alive.

Further down the road, advancing into the town itself, the deathly silence gave way to a mass of tendrils that blocked their path. Fleshy roots that parasitized the crystalline growths had inhibited their progress, and so Ser Broz took one of the marbles that had been given to Fraskia and tossed it at the blockage. On impact, it shattered and released a quick flash of brilliant energy that settled across the surface of the tendrils. In turn, it caused the tendrils to melt and recede back into the ground to open the road to their passage. The Guardian's little trick had worked wonders, but now there were only two left to use.

The road opened towards the main square, which once housed a town hall a public gathering space, and a market, and in turn provided multiple avenues to explore the city in. "What are some of the places that might be of interest? To investigate, as the Guardian requested." Arnas asked towards Ser Broz, looking for some direction in the moment.

"Well, from here there are three places I could think of. The old church could be a good place to start. Despite the place being in tatters likely, it is still holy ground. Then there are the stockades... though I loathe to enter beneath the earth in this place. And then there would be the the town hall, which is just right here. Where you go would be up to you."

Arnas looked around for a moment, considering his options, before nodding. "I think I'll investigate the Town Hall then. Might as well get the easiest out of the way. What about the rest of you?"

Ser Faralt then spoke up: "I should like to visit the Church... or what remains of it. I... perhaps I could use a prayer for now."

"I shall keep an eye on things here, and shout if any trouble comes our way." Ser Broz said, volunteering for the job of being overwatch for the group.

Beann Breadman Chaos Gallant Oreo Cookie Worthlessplebian

 

[Chaos Gallant]

Glad to have Chowder and Abdula relatively out of harm's way for once, Terrence strode through the ruined town with the group, a hand resting on his ax per Ser Broz’s advice. The crystals that had grown throughout the ruins were a terrifyingly amazing sight, like nothing he’d seen before. “It is a shame such marvels are a product of catastrophe.” Terrence commented as they passed by a house that had sprouted from the ground with the help of the crystal that had grown beneath it.

With the group declaring their “desired” destinations for investigation, Terrence decided the second option was likely as well-off as any other place in the rift-touched area. “I think I will head for the stockades then. Anyone not seeking the path of least resistance, or to fulfill their clerical needs, is welcome to join me.” He gave a teasing smile to Arnas and Faralt, trying his best to keep the mood light before turning to Ser Broz, “Right then, in which direction should I wander aimlessly?”

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Edoardo Vargas Melcher​

With question answered, Edoardo granted assent to enter this derelict town of once renown glory. He drifted like one of the many ghosts that now inhabited this place. His footfalls were so silent, breathing so controlled, that it was like he was not there at all. His hand tenderly gripped the khopesh' handle. In anticipation of these threats that Ser Broz warned against. His eyes couldn't stop tracing the scenery, figuratively chewing on it like a bone with chunks of meat. It all fascinated him, he wondered how this even worked, but those questions can twiddle their thumbs a bit more.

"I shall take you up on that, Terrence." He rumbled lowly, not out of exasperation or irritation, but enthusiasm. The warrior priest feared naught what lurked 'neath the dirt, perhaps he should, but steeled and girded with his Gods to his left and right, gave him the means and he provided the courage. The Church would remain there once they finish, Edoardo is curious about its ecclesiastical differences, a fine opportunity to study once their task was settled.

 

[Beann]

Following quietly behind the rest of the group, Aelestra kept her hands loosely balled as means to ready her ‘weapon’ as instructed by Ser Broz. Once they passed through the main gates of Leskau, her eyes darted wildly at the sight before them. It was both beautiful and terrifying at the same time, yet her expression remained the same: unphased. She prolonged her steps as they passed by a few bodies, seemingly frozen and preserved by the rift’s capabilities. There was the slight urge to reach out and touch one of them but she was quick to reel in her curiosities and push forward.

After using one of the marbles provided by the Guardian, the group found themselves in the heart of Leskau. She glanced between Arnas and Ser Broz, wondering if it was really the best idea for them to split up and investigate. Even all together, they struggled against the rift in Ember. Her attention turned to Terrence as he mentioned he would investigate the least appealing option: the stockades. Aelestra’s hands moved to sign that she would join him but Edoardo was quick to take the merchant on his offer. She contemplated for a moment. Three’s a crowd.

Instead, she glanced over at Arnas and wordlessly shuffled over to stand beside him, signifying that she would be joining him to investigate the Town Hall.

 

[Breadman]

Damned wizard has an answer for everything. Fraskia marveled a bit at the orbs she was given by the Guardian. Pure essence from the rifts. The rune knight was silent for their short trek into Leskau. The marbles were nothing compared to what was hidden in the ruins. The tragedy had given birth to a unique and wonderful landscape, doted with interesting creatures. The scholars back at Castle Vrana would spend years studying this place. When it came time to split up, she chose to accompany their newer knight ally.

"I will go to the church as well. Less for soul searching, but more to make sure its not been defiled or harboring anything we wouldn't want to deal with."

 

[Oreo Cookie]

Per Ser Broz's advice and her own peace of mind, Vera's hand naturally found itself wrapped around the familiar comfort that was the hilt of her sword as the group traversed the ruins of Leskau. Her grip on the weapon only tightened as she observed the decidedly unnatural sights with a mixture of wonder and wariness—mostly the latter, especially when she regarded the crystallized corpses they passed.

"I s'pose I'll stick with the knights and head to the church too." The reticent knightess said, giving the briefest of nods to Ser Faralt and Fraskia. She was far from a religious person, with the very notion of stepping into a church being a novel one. Still, she held up some hope that the sacred destination would turn out to be relatively mundane compared to the rest of the town.

 

[joshuadim]

With the groups decided for checking out the locales for anything out of the ordinary that would be so in a setting as strange and otherworldly as this, each smaller party departed to their respective destinations. Ser Broz watched them all depart after giving directions, offering a prayer in his mind for their safety, before climbing up on an abandoned, long dry fountain. Lucina stayed nearby as well, opting to be on the lookout as well as well as her sight could give. The cracked stone was tall enough for him to see a decent distance as both the Church and Stockades groups travelled on their respective paths, while also providing some sight towards other parts of the ruined town amidst all the devastation. So far, everything seemed calm as trouble was a distant memory in these moments. The paladin only hoped that this peace would hold for the duration there were within the city itself.

---

For Arnas and Aelestra, their destination was only nearby as the ruins of the Town Hall loomed over them. The young mercenary was the one to lead the way as he approached the doorway with his companion in tow, but stilled at the old steps of the building. What greeted the two of them immediately was the sight of a desiccated corpse lying against the frame of the door. The entrance itself had been crashed open by an unknown force, as the wood itself had been shattered. Curiously, the splinters themselves remained affixed in the air - frozen in time - like floating daggers. The body itself was completely dry of any moisture, lending a mummified quality to it, that unnerved Arnas as his gaze slowly trailed towards the interior of the building itself.

He slowly released his blade, the metal letting out a soft hiss as it went against the scabbard to signal his own apprehension to the situation. A few steps more inside showed more bodies that had suffered the same fate, though some seemed to start to crumble to dust as small pieces of ashen skin flaked off from their bodies at a gradual pace. The room itself held the ruins of what appeared to be a reception area, as chairs and tables lay scattered about, while the shards of windows floated in orbit around an unseen force. "...whatever did this to them might still be here." Arnas commented with a hushed voice, trying not to speak louder than he needed in the moment.

A set of stairs led upwards towards the upper floors of the building, while two doors on the ground floor remained unopened. Their destinations unknown, Arnas crouched down as he pondered as to what direction to take, before turning to his mute companion. "What do you think?" he asked quietly, "Up or forward?"

Beann

---

Edoardo and Terrence followed the road per the directions given by Ser Broz towards their chosen destination. The stockades, which once housed those who violated the law, now lay as desolate as the rest of the abandoned town itself. The path was somewhat troublesome to navigate, as stalks of solidified air jutted out of the ground as various points while large potholes littered the once proud cobble street. Inside lay puddles of what was a black viscous substance that Terrence had the unfortunate luck of stepping into and staining his boots. It appeared like tar, yet smelled akin to vinegar, and appeared just as hard to remove as well.

Aside from the inconvenience, the broken homes lined the streets to fill the vista until arriving at a gated section of the city. The metal was warped and bent, as if it had been turned to liquid then solidified once more, to create all manner of intricate and abstract patters. Fortunately, the gate had previously been busted open to allow for an easy entry. And the prison itself was half destroyed; the right side of the building remained mostly intact, save for fungal-goo like growths along some of its walls, while the left side had appeared to have been lifted off the ground entirely. The ground underneath was elevated and pushed upwards, leaving it at an ominous tilt above the other half of the prison itself. And large stones that comprised the building floated gently in the air with a slow rotation.

As a result half of the prison lay inaccessible to the duo, which left the remaining half open to explore for its various quarters and cells.

Chaos Gallant Worthlessplebian

---

Fraskia and Vera both followed Ser Faralt, who in turn followed the directions given by Ser Broz towards the church, and moved past various similar vistas that both Edoardo and Terrence had encountered along the way. However, they also encountered the same sentient gases that graced the rooftops as it slithered through the sky above them before touching down atop another rooftop across the street. The burnt knight could not help but marvel at the sight, seeing it then feed on one of the crystalline growths that sprouted out of the building. "It is like a cow in a field... except it floats... and is a cloud." Ser Faralt commented as they moved past it, as his attention turned towards to growing sight of their destination.

Taller than the buildings around it thanks to its spires, the church of the town was in surprisingly decent shape when compared to its surroundings. Much of the structure remained intact, though some of the crystalline growths jutted out of some of its walls and one of its spires was detached from its base and floated above in the air. There was also noticeably less devastation in general in the immediate streets around the church, as only some abandoned carts littered the area to compliment the abandoned storefronts and homes that once were inhabited.

"In better times, I imagine its halls to have been filled with light and warmth." Ser Faralt lamented, "But now, its hallowed halls remain empty..." The burnt knight looked around and pointed towards the ornate cherry-wood doors that were closed. "We can enter through the front if the doors aren't blocked. Otherwise... if we are unlucky, we will have to go through the convent rear."

Breadman Oreo Cookie

 

[Chaos Gallant]

“Bah!” Terrence kicked at the ground to no avail as the tar like substance seemed to only spread more onto the bottom of his boots. “First my favorite traveling coat is torn in combat, and now my boots, tarnished by this forsaken place.” The orc spat on the ground, giving one more kick before continuing onwards with Edoardo.

Though the trek down the abandoned streets couldn’t have been longer than a brief walk, it felt like an eternity. The atmosphere of the desolate town kept Terrence uneasily on edge. The seconds seemed to be passing like minutes, and the minutes like hours. Once the stockades were in full view, he let out a chuckle as he looked from the elevated half of the building to the “intact” section of the prison. “It would seem this place does not wish to be buried just yet, perhaps it holds some life in it still. Let us ensure that if it does; we lay it to rest.” He drew his ax, trudging forward with the sobekan.

 

[Beann]

Following Arnas into the Town Hall, Aelestra observed their disturbing surroundings. The environment remained similar to the outside oddities, furniture and rubble frozen in time. However, the bodies caught in such an anomaly appeared to have had the life sucked out of them — quite literally. She only offered a few blinks at the flaking bodies, seemingly unphased as she struggled to find the sympathy for these souls. Her emotions would not bring them back and so she found no point in showing any.

Hearing Arnas’ words, she considered their options silently. The integrity of the building was questionable. If they were to investigate upstairs, the possibility of falling through the floorboards increased. However, if they remained on the ground level, the risk of being crushed by debris from above was also likely. Her eyes flickered back and forth between the stairs and the two unexplored doors ahead of them. After a moment, she looked back at Arnas and pointed at the two closed doors.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Edoardo Vargas Melcher​

Edoardo resisted the urge to trail a claw across the art-piece that the Gate had become, weary of foul magics. He'd move past it, sword at his hip when he heard the squelching sound of boot meeting tar. He turned his chest around to see Terrence shaking off the spreading stains of the tar. A deep chuckle resonated on the air, a bit unbecoming that Edoardo found humour in his companion's petty misfortune. "My empathy." The warrior-priest offered. It is true, his prized vestments, hailing from his people's seamstresses, were tattered way back at the town of Ember. He's been salvaging pieces of it as much as he could, but he would not lose sleep over it.

What is a priest without his holy attire? A priest in dire need of a tailor.

The brief jaunt through the streets stretched for far too long. An eternity and more, perhaps the desolation was playing tricks on their minds or perhaps they've went mad from some unknown effect. Whatever the case, the sobekan and his orc companion came upon the stockades. No chuckle this time, but Edoardo's eyes sparkled with the glow of amazement and restrained annoyance. It would not be simple. Looking to the intact section, he took up his khopesh as Terrance readied his axe. "Or perhaps unlife," He waved a hand, as if gesturing to the floating pieces. "If objects float, then who knows what fresh agony the Rift does to the living."

 

[Breadman]

"Perhaps one day it will serve its purpose again." Fraskia commented on the burnt knight's lamentations. She pressed one hand on the ornate doors to see if she could push them open that way. Didn't seem to budge. She next leaned he shoulder against it and started pushing. "Give me a hand here." She beckoned the others for assistance.

 

[Oreo Cookie]

"Might take a prayer to move these." Vera remarked in partial jest as she strode up to the ornate doors. Her free hand felt along the wooden surface, feeling for resistances. After a few seconds of this, she hummed a thoughtful grumble, took a single step back, lifted a leg, and proceeded to strike at the entrance with the heel of her sabaton.

 

[joshuadim]

Arnas gave Aelestra a nod towards her suggestion and wordlessly shuffled over towards the doors with her. The floorboards creaked softly under their feet as they advanced, taking care to not cause too much noise for fear of drawing attention. For a moment, it seemed they would travel through the building undisturbed but a soft crunch of glass underneath Arnas' feet made him still as he quickly looked down. The duo stopped for a few moments, waiting for something in the crushing silence of desolation to lunge forward at them - aggravated from its slumber - but relaxed in the moments following when nothing came. The first of two doors that both arrived towards was budged in place, as pushing against it led to nothing except the creaking of petrified wood.

Their attention was then drawn towards the second door, which opened easily and led into a larger office that once served as a meeting hall for the former mayor and his advisors who were now all seated as desiccated corpses, huddling with other nameless corpses in fear. The young mercenary looked around with abated breath, feeling a heavy staleness overtake his nose as he resisted the urge to let out a cough. Small skittering bugs that glowed green crawled out of the empty pores of a few of the bodies, fleeing at the sign of danger, while the windows were covered with a menacingly red coloured outgrowth of crystals. Its very presence stirred unease within both Arnas and Aelestra, and looked to be wholly unique compared to its immediate surroundings.

However, what also caught Aelestra's eye was a large scrawling book held in the clutches of one of the deceased. Arnas noticed it as well as he slowly walked over towards it and gently pried it out of the deceased's grasp. In response, the corpse's arms fell apart into dust almost immediately at the first sign of tension which took the young mercenary aback for a moment before opening the pages for the two of them to explore.

"...we have barricaded ourselves in the council chambers, but can not get out. Chaos reigns outside our homes." Arnas muttered, reading over the hurried text that had been transcribed as someone's last words. "The ground shakes and splits open like noxious wounds, and the skies turn to dust. The end times have come, and the gods have forsaken us. What have we done to deserve such wrongs..."

He flipped the page and noticed that the writing had become much more messy, before trailing off in its final words with a stain of ink. "We can not get out. It is coming."

A gust of wind, then travelled like a ghostly howl through the building and hit them from behind as if beckoned by this recounting.

Arnas was visibly spooked as he quickly turned around and dropped the book, causing a thunderous roar to echo from the wood below, before releasing his blade from its scabbard once more.

"We've overstayed our welcome here." Arnas spoke through gritted teeth.

Beann

---

Advancing towards the half of the stockades that was accessible to them, Edoardo and Terrence found easy entry through entering what once was a room before opening its door to reveal the interior of the building itself. Much to their surprise, everlasting torches seemed to burn without regard towards the time passed on the walls. Ample vision was provided to them to navigate the stone halls, as a large variety of doors presented themselves - sealed and untouched. The duo could easily disregard the wall lined with doors they had just arrived from, as it led back outside, and so instead they had three doors that presented themselves as viable options.

The first was at one end of the hallway, without any unassuming markings or damage done towards it. The second was at the other end, but unlike its counterpart it held a great deal of scratches and damage on its exterior. The third sat right in front of them, with a strange purple slime that coated parts of the wood. It was impossible to tell what was behind any of them until they actually explored it, and so the decision would have to be theirs.

Chaos Gallant Worthlessplebian

---

Fraskia, Vera, and Ser Faralt all took their turns - either separately or together - to try to open the way into the cathedral itself. However, it seemed that the doors would not budget at all no matter how much pressure had been put on them with their combined strength. Straining aside, Ser Faralt grew impatient as he let out a sigh from under his helmet. "We aren't getting anywhere like this. Looks like we will have to enter through the back... though I dread having to do so. It's unknightly to enter a convent as a man." the burnt knight spoke, "Abandoned or not, that's besides the point. Come along now."

Both Fraskia and Vera followed Ser Faralt around the building, arriving at an extension at the rear that very clearly once housed the priestesses that dedicated their lives in pious servitude to the divines. However, there was no light to be seen that once came through their windows. No songs of prayer to be heard in the deathly air that shrouded this town. Instead, there was only silence as, thankfully, the entry had been unlocked and in turn allowed them entry into the Cathedral itself. Their footsteps echoed through the hallowed halls, bringing some measure of life amongst such death.

For Ser Faralt he looked around quietly before nodding: "Very well... the convent itself we may search. I believe there is a prayer room, a reading room, and a kitchen to observe. But in the church itself there is also the shrine to whichever patron god once watched over this place, the pulpit, and the main altar."

Breadman Oreo Cookie

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Edoardo Vargas Melcher​

The Sobekon tapped the end of his jaw with a claw at the sight before him. Three doorways, three potentials. He looked to the nearest door, dripping a violet sludge that repulsed Edoardo by the very sight alone. Then he spotted the unblemished door and was equally suspicious of it as well, although that might have been paranoia and faulty logic to blame. "We'll take the middle." Edoardo accused the scratched door with his khopesh, looking to Terrence.

Actually neither option seemed safe, it is just as likely that they'll be ambushed from behind once they select one. "I'll watch the front, you the rear." Advised Edoardo, knowing that they'll likely end up in a trap regardless.

 

[Breadman]

Fraskia raised an eyebrow at Faralt's objection to enter the temple on account of being a man. Still he led them inside, those worries seemingly to be of no consequence when the whole church is an empty shell.

"Let's see the alter and shrine first. Oddities and aberrations seem to be drawn to them the most in my experience."