Fantasy A Guild of Heroes: Song of Champions

[One Mean Ghost]

Ki'Tavi

Location: Guild Hall
Interacting with: Veth Fable

"What exactly is the purpose of this?"

Two sets of eyes locked onto her as both Kit and his clone looked at her, and then each other before both heaving a sigh. "My hope was to come up with a way to preserve Cyrus instead of offering him up in this asinine trade, but if you can see so easily through the ruse, there's no hope of fooling Turneval" The Kit in front of her spoke as the other vanished. Whether by luck or intuition, she had indeed been addressing the real Ki'Tavi. He scratched his chin as he looked over the map once more, the markings still indicating the locations he had predicted Turneval would strike.

"If I had more than an hour, then maybe I could modify my magic enough to create a physically identical copy, but producing an identical soul would be nigh impossible for me, given I've never attempted anything like that before...." He explained, his tail flicking behind him as he tore his gaze from the map to look at Veth. "I suppose my efforts would be better spent figuring out how to take this six month reprieve and give us half a chance with it" He admitted. He had been able to predict Turneval's moves, if only moments before they were made. Maybe, just maybe, that meant there was a way he could turn this war into a chess game. Even if they had to start without a Queen, there was still a chance of victory, albeit a slim one.

"I don't suppose you've got any tricks up your sleeve?"

 

[Fable]

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[/div][div class=flex][div class=text][div class=header]Veth[/div]
[div class=tags]Location: Guild Hall, Fort Black | Interaction: Ki'Tavi ( One Mean Ghost ) | Nearby/Mentioned: Krysten ( StoneWolf18 )[/div]
Veth actually hadn't been sure who the original was, but as her assumption had been correct, it was enough to dishearten her rival regarding his plan. She honestly didn't think making a clone of himself was the most sound plan. "While this one can appreciate your desire to save Cyrus, the decision is now out of our hands and in his own. Let him decide his fate, even if we do not agree with it. The guildmaster also wishes to keep this matter silenced and just between those who accidentally overheard the negotiations."

She glanced at the map where he had positioned markers, she wasn't much of a strategist in this manner. She had only ever followed orders for tactics and never made her own. "This one has no tricks. Tricks are perhaps also not the best way to approach this type of foe. We barely had time to plan regarding Xhorhas, but we had managed to somehow - against the odds - overcome the enemy forces. Perhaps it was luck alone, but the enemy has shown he would rather destroy a city with their loss than give us a single victory. Even if we managed to plan perfectly in these six months, the threat of another projectile being launched is a reasonable assumption."

Veth picked up one of the markers and curiously looked at it, though her facial features didn't change, she had a somewhat inquisitive gaze. "If we could find a way to deflect any projectiles back to its origin... they perhaps wouldn't be so inclined to constantly us them against us. We also should determine what factors resulted in the momentary victory in Xhorhas. These are just rambling thoughts of this one. You should inquire with the guildmaster after she speaks to Cyrus."

She set the marker back down where it had originally been crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded Ki'Tavi. "This one believes perhaps the only chance is to do what the wizard originally desired. Go into the Dark Forest."[/div][/div][/div]
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[/div][div class=flex][div class=text][div class=header]Drui[/div]
[div class=tags]Location: Guild Hall, Fort Black | Interaction: Bem ( Noble Scion ) Armad ( Airagog ) | Nearby/Mentioned: Elizabeth ( Noble Scion )[/div]
Drui just smiled at Bem before she laughed at Bem's comment about striking her with lightning. While Drui could curse someone with increased bad luck that might lead to such an event, she didn't really care for those types of curses. "No, nothing like that," she laughed out. "It would be something fairly harmless." Bem was distracted and turned back to the weird man who had upset Bem by insulting her spear. She shook her head as Bem asked what hugging and cuddling was, the poor girl was going to get very easily taken advantage of at this rate and Drui wasn't sure this man was the best instructor for human ways.

This thought was confirmed when he latched onto Bem as he thought Drui was going to harm her, saying he knew her 'tricks' and she wasn't sure if he was being insulting or complimenting her by saying beautiful women were dangerous. Drui pondered for a moment as she looked at the two, she didn't need to curse or bless Bem, no her target had switched to the man who was clutching to Bem without an invitation. Drui approached and flicked Armad's forehead with her middle finger, "Any time you hug someone against their will, you shall fart. Let's leave this curse for a day. And just for any bright ideas you have of hugging me and farting in my vicinity, you must remain three feet from me for a day as well."

Drui ignored the older woman as she left, even as she said 'perhaps another time.' Like hell Drui would want to be around her another time.[/div][/div][/div]

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[Archdemon]

Leonidas
Location: Gestal
Action: Talking with the great Seer, upgrading his Spartans, and heading out for the Guild of Heroes

Leonidas talked with the Mage in his home, he was curious about the crystals and whether their magical properties could be integrated into Spartan Equipment. The Mage confirmed this very much and would easily upgrade the equipment of all the Spartans with Positive and Negative energy which would prove extremely useful in the coming days against both undead and living creatures. The Mage also made mention of a Guild of Heroes which the Spartan should seek out, for now darkness is descending upon the world and the guild is the only one that can stop it. Leonidas knew what he must do, if he was to protect his people, he would have to fight in this world's war.

He had his army upgraded with the crystals, their armor made so that they could regenerate their health should they get hurt in battle, and the attacks of the undead were much more weaker. They had two spears now, one to fight against the undead more effectively and one that could hurt the living even more. Leonidas saved some however, once he learned their was a master blacksmith in the Fort Black, home of the guild of heroes. He would bring some Greek bronze as that was the only material available to the Spartans in their new home. Soon 225 Spartans set out, leaving behind the rest to guard the town.

The Spartans marched off to war.
Birdsie

 

[Birdsie]

Alteras Hanarei fluticasone Swire LostHaven Bakuyoshi Octo Girl CrimsonEclipse Graystone713 Reinhardt Noble Scion Sea Jay Kylesar1 Axel The Englishman Archdemon LoneSniper87 Ms. Sparrow Kylesar1 Fable One Mean Ghost Goretiss Howling StoneWolf18 Inheritance Rumble Fish Prince_ Airagog Kiyoko Tomoe Yahhah

I removed several people that haven't posted in a long time and probably won't. If anyone is unsure where to jump in, go ahead and ask me. Kylesar, this is your cue to get in, as is for many other players. Chapter 3 will be very accommodating, as it will take away from the large war and will move it to the background -- replacing it with not one, but two adventures -- and in the light of that all, without further ado, let's get on with it.

​

Chapter 3: Board With Pawns
Outside the Fort, a single knight in black armor waited ominously for her target to come out. Her sword was dug deep into the earth and her hands rested on the pommel and crossguard. Cyrus approached the dark figure without his usual staff and held out his hands, to find a pair of magic-restricting manacles on them.

Darkness, like a fog, swept across them and they disappeared.

Cyrus was not heard from again in the coming week, save for the artificial intelligence he left behind in the Guild Seals to guide the heroes.

A day later, Verraketh himself would make an appearance in Bowerstone.

Unarmed, not hostile. Nevertheless, he came under diplomatic immunity and signed a peace treaty in the name of King Turenval, that was to last six months (183 days,) with King Antilles and the Guildmaster of the Guild of Heroes.

Later, several foreign dignitaries arrived with no warning and asked for similar mercy related to matters of war in their own countries, but Verraketh coldly refused and left as mysteriously as he arrived; fading in shadow.

The Guild and certainly all of Albion received some reprieve, but would such a twisted peace bring abundant fruit, or would it prove to be a miserable, last harvest?

The forces of darkness, however, scored a pyrrhic victory at Xhorhas. The city, once a beacon of hope in the south, had become a symbol of fear and grief. People across all of Albion asked themselves: 'If this happens to those who resist, is resistance worth it?' Public support for the king and Guild fell in the week very considerably as the rumors spread and people lost faith. The riots in Nachtholm got bloody when the Crownsguard was given orders to intervene.

The Guild could do nothing without risking international conflict and perhaps even assimilation into the state.

The age of freedom was replaced by an age of restrictions, and the Dark Lord's armies, halted by the peace treaty with Albion, began to invade Espania.

The dark forces are stronger than anyone could have feared, and we are weaker than ever...

***
One week later...​

​

Verraketh leaped across the sky. The leader of the giants ran from the other side of the battlefield and the two met. The giant prepared to swing his club, but the death knight was faster and more precise. His sword cut a gash, staining the giant's flesh black where it had hit; on the upper torso. The death knight landed five meters further, rolling and then springing to his feet.

The giant fell to the ground with an earthshaking thud. The rest of the giants, fearful, turned back and began to run across the plain, only to be taken down by ballistas, archer fire, and coordinated magic attacks. Zombies and skeletons ran past Turenval, beginning combat with the platoons of paladins waiting for them uphill.

Verraketh reached out across the battlefield with his mind and gave a telepathic order to the necromancers present to focus on converting dead bodies into soldiers; fight fire with fire. A pair of paladins charged the death knight from two sides and he swung his in a wide arc from right to left and carved the two in half.

A hail of arrows fell from the sky but the warlock was unconcerned, rooted to his spot, as several arrows lodged themselves into his head and shoulders. They simply crumbled away into dust seconds later.

Verraketh raised his arm and it glowed with a malignant, green color. There was malice in the movement -- intent to kill. As if on cue, pillars of green power fell from the sky like artillery and decimated the paladins and their archers.

He raised his sword to the sky. "Charge!"

Zombies growled and scurried forward to pick off the injured and convert them. Revenants rushed out at inestimable speeds and disemboweled the survivors with no hesitation. Squads of skeletons aimed their bows upward and replied with a cloud of arrows of their own. Verraketh watched the merciless extermination with his eyes, and not a brow flinched under his helmet.

"Onward," he said, voice carried by magic so all could hear him. "Raze the villages. Leave no survivors. Don't hesitate."

Darkness swirled next to Verraketh and Jaeyna popped out. She walked beside him. "Report."

"No survivors like you asked," she answered. "I made sure of it myself."

"What about Martin?"

"You would not enjoy Martin, sir," she responded stoically. "He is fundamentally unsound."

"I'm aware. I'm asking where he is."

A young golden dragon fell from the sky, along with its paladin rider. A humanoid being clung to its neck and ripped out its throat with his hands, screaming: "DIE!" over and over.

The paladin got up from the creature's back and began to run, before the being flashed with green light and teleported in front of him, to place its hands on his head and popping it off like a bottlecap. The being laughed with glee.

"There he is," Jaeyna noted blankly.

"I am not blind."

"Very insightful," she sassed dryly, not a hint of emotion in her voice.

"I am not blind to puns either." Verraketh looked at the mad knight and yelled: "Get over here, scum! I have a mission for you, Martin. It involves slaughter!"

Martin's head seemed to cock up at the word 'slaughter.' He approached slowly, his armor rusting since long ago. Nobody really bothered making him a new set, as he wouldn't put it on anyway. All that he was concerned with were service and cold-blooded murder.

"Excellent. Now listen you two. This is an undercover operation that I am about to assign you."

Verraketh, underneath his helmet, couldn't help but grin.

***​

Meanwhile, at Fort Black...​

 

[Fable]

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[/div][div class=flex][div class=text][div class=header]Veth[/div]
[div class=tags]Location: Ki'Tavi's Bed (OH MAI) | Interaction: Ki'Tavi ( One Mean Ghost ) | Nearby/Mentioned:
(This was discussed OOC ;p) [/div]
Veth shifted slightly as she began to wake up, feeling still slightly groggy as her body still struggled to fully wake up. It didn't take long for her to notice the very awkward position she found herself in, being very intimately held by none other than Ki'Tavi, her mercenary rival. Her body stiffened as she forced herself to hold still and not waking the sleeping mercenary. She needed to find a way to sneak out of this position.

She wondered when she would learn her lesson and stop making foolish wagers, especially ones where she believed there was no way for her to lose. They'd entered into a bet regarding who was better at knife throwing. Veth was decent and figured it was enough to go against Ki'Tavi. Unfortunately... she hadn't heard any information regarding his ability in this matter and he took great joy and showed little mercy as blade after blade, he hit his marks.

She did well, managing to stick a few into the target, but a third of them bounced back, resulting in a humiliating defeat. She had agreed to his nonsense wager thinking she'd win and now she was stuck in bed with him. At least she made sure to clarify that 'sleeping' was exactly that, sleep and nothing more. However, she hadn't expected to wake up to this, or to have even fallen asleep at all! She assessed her position, trying to determine how to wiggle her way to freedom.

Oh the rumors this would start! People would greatly misunderstand! Veth began to slowly and very carefully shift her body to scoot away from Ki'Tavi and out of his grasp. She could only hope he was a deep enough sleeper that she'd manage to avoid disturbing him.[/div][/div][/div]

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[Birdsie]

Holo-Cyrus | Bedroom, somewhere | Fable One Mean Ghost

Suddenly, Veth's Guild Seal would release three, loud beeps and brighten with blue color. It would then proceed to create a blue projection of a very familiar wizard with his signature equipment; a hat, pipe, and a staff. He was projected on the ground, roughly a meter big. The hologram spoke, "Awaken, Veth! You are going on a secret mis----" the hologram suspended abruptly. Holo-Cyrus' eyes widened a notch. "Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting something, or...?"

 

[One Mean Ghost]

Ki'Tavi

Location: In his bed
With: Veth Fable
Getting peeped on by: Cyrus Birdsie

The past few days had been rather taxing. They had won their reprieve, and in the ensuing days, Ki'Tavi had sought to make the most of it. His Phantoms he had sent out to strategic locations to prepare traps and fortifications to give them a fighting chance of withstanding the coming war, while he himself set about running hundreds if not thousands of scenarios through his head of what may come.

Veth, for her part, had been an excellent sounding board for his ideas. Even still, they needed a way to destress now and again, and that's how the bet started. He couldn't recall who had suggested the wager, but he knew that, should he lose, he'd be wearing a very.... let's just say "interesting" dress for a few days. Knife throwing, though, was something Kit was quite good at. Truth be told, he wasn't at all put off by Veth's absolute insistence that the bet be purely for sleeping in the most literal sense. Frankly, he was more of a cuddly bastard than he usually let on, so just getting some cuddles was enough as far as he was concerned.

He woke when he felt Veth start to stir against him. Opening his eyes, he turned his gaze down towards her with his arm still around her. "Isn't it still a bit early to be getting up?" Kit murmured as he rubbed his eyes on the back of his free hand.

"Awaken, Veth! You are going on a secret mis----....Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting something, or...?"

Kit's ears perked up towards the voice as he sat up with Veth. "Just interrupting sleep, I suppose.... Though you should knock... or ring a bell, or something next time before you just pop in..." Kit answered with a yawn. "What's this about a mission now?" Kit inquired, looking from Cyrus to Veth, wondering if the elf knew anything about what Cyrus was talking about, or if she was as in the dark as he is.

For the moment, his arm remained wrapped around her, though not entirely by his choice. Truth be told, she had been laying on that arm to the point it was completely numb. Not that he was going to complain about it or anything. Perhaps he was handling this better than she was. Then again, he didn't think there was anything to be humiliated about. They just slept in the same bed, after all...

 

[Noble Scion]

Elizabeth Cain - Hallways/Faust's living quarters

Spoiler: Appearance

The lady in white turned a corner and finally came across a place she recognised, an old friend, although that term was rather debatable as their relationship seemed a little different that most. Elizabeth rapped gently on the outside of the ancient door that appeared as though it would crumble with a flick, yet the energy she detected seemed to indicate otherwise. "Fist! Are you in there? Wait no.. Frost! Fraun? Skeleton!" she called in her sonorous tone that had been fine-tuned over the past few decades. "I came to say hello, ask a few questions! Maybe we can catch up on things? Do you still have some of that stored blood around? The people round here seem a tad unwilling if you ask me.. But I'll get round to them eventually. They can't say no forever, unlike me." she joked to the hallways with a gracious laugh that seemed to hold the authority of a queen, as though she were talking to her subjects "Also don't think about pretending you're not in there, I can hear you moving stuff about in there, and you never really let people into your room, as far as I can remember." The vampire giggled as she waited patiently for her old acquaintance to open the door for her, her arms crossed over her chest and a sweet, almost unnervingly calm smile adorning her face while the single red ruby that was her eye watched every centimetre of the door
LostHaven​

 

[LostHaven]

Faust Windfallow -- Living Quarters -- Interacting With Some Other White-Haired Hoe Elizabeth ( Noble Scion ) -- Mentioned ( Reinhardt )
​

In the time that the guild had been making peace agreements with the enemy, Faust had been preoccupied with his own shenanigans. The first was to send out one of his undead ravens to stalk the homunculus maid back to her master's hideout, as Faust would need somebody to repair his mask, and Faust had on that particular day, decided to pester that scientist-mage guy about it. Ragna or something, if Faust's memory was correct. Those books in the guild library was a mildly amusing read.

Whatever footsteps Elizabeth would've made while walking towards Faust's door would've been completely drowned out by Faust's fumbling of his crates and boxes. The living quarters the guild had given to Faust had been transformed into some twisted little haven where Faust mucked around with necromancy. There was a single desk in the corner of the room, and a bench big enough to fit a person on it. Other than that, the rest of the space in the room was completely filled with boxes storing various bones, and grotesque items. Heck, at one point, Faust even had vials of blood stored somewhere in his room.

Suddenly, Faust heard an irritating tapping at his door. "Ignore it, and maybe it'll go away..." Faust muttered to himself, continuing to look through his collection of bones. But that infuriating voice continued to call out to him, and to Faust's annoyance, failed to get his name correct, and settled on calling him 'skeleton.' Then, it began demanding that Faust show himself and give up trying to pretend that he was elsewhere, and asked for any blood vials he might have. "Yeah, I too can say no forever," Faust replied to Elizabeth's joke, which Faust would've found relatively amusing, had it come from somebody else. "Don't even try to be humerus, it won't get you anywhere with me," Faust advised before he shrugged and walked towards the door, purposely making each footstep particularly loud, and walking very slowly.

Waving his hand over the ice that sealed the door completely shut, a hissing noise was produced from Faust's side of the door, as the ice dissipated into mist, completely skipping the liquid state, seeping through the small gap in between the door. All the ice turned to gas, and Faust undid the arcane magic that had held the door in place. It fell forward, clearly intended to collapse over Elizabeth, and the cold mist crept through the open door, and began to crawl across the hall. A headless Faust emerged from the doorway, and the gaze of his floating blue orbs fell on to vampire that had annoyed him. "Human blood isn't easy for me to obtain either, and I'd be more interested in using them on ghouls than giving it to you to drink." Faust uttered in annoyance, crossing his hands. He was still completely oblivious to the fact that he no longer had his head, In fact, he had completely forgotten that he had even handed it to Lucius some time ago. Only god knows where his head could be now. "Did you only come here to pester me for blood?"

 

[Noble Scion]

Elizabeth Cain - Hallways/Faust's living quarters

Spoiler: Appearance

View attachment 448361

"Ha, Humerus. Good to see you haven't lost your funny bone yet, Faust." Elizabeth giggled as the door creaked it's way forward with a loud hissing, before attempting to attack her, which she was fairly used to at this point. Everything seemed to dislike her since she had become one of the undead, including other undead. Lady Cain simply took a small leap backwards, out of reach of the door as if such an action were as easy as batting an eye. She simply ignored the cold air billowing out towards her, cold things didn't feel so bad once your blood stops moving.

"I came to meet my favourite guard of course! Of course the scent of blood also brought me here.. But what's a few droplets of red between friends?" Elizabeth smiled as she stepped up onto the recently un-frozen door to gaze into the two floating spheres that appeared to be his eyes for the moment. "How's immortality been treating you? I'm sure you've been living it up in this little... hovel you call home. Are the relics still safe? Or did you forget about them?" she grinned devilishly, taking a few stabs at him, but meaning no real harm. "I'm sure I can repay you in another form later, I've just been thirsting quite a bit lately.. You know how it is. Had to travel quite the distance to get here too, never had the chance to drink. Petty humans wouldn't take me in their carts.. Showed him who's boss, but didn't have a driver for the cart, and I myself don't know.. But I'm sure you'd rather hear about anything else." she rambled on before returning her attention to the headless guardian of the vault. "Oh.. Where's your head?" she asked simply, the mist fading away to reveal his lack of a skull.

"I've come to enter the guild. Can't leave the fighting of the lich to a bunch of mortals, and your wonderful self, as well. I find it hard to believe that the humans can resist your oh so irresistible personality and refuse to give some blood" she laughed "If you were recently resurrected I'd take a bite out of you myself, my dear, but alas, nobody has tried killing you just yet. Now then, may I enter? I have a bit of catching up to do and I'm sure you can tell me all about it." the vampire asked, her joking manner suddenly fading as she returned to her motherly aesthetic, once again.
LostHaven​

 

[Fable]

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[/div][div class=flex][div class=text][div class=header]Veth[/div]
[div class=tags]Location: Ki'Tavi's Bed > Veth's room| Interaction: Ki'Tavi ( One Mean Ghost ) Cyrus-Copy ( Birdsie ) | Nearby/Mentioned:[/div]
Veth attempts to sneak out of Ki'Tavi's bed and room were destroyed as Cyrus appeared. No, not Cyrus, the copy he had made of his mind and implanted into the guild seals. The sudden loud announcement caused her to jerk up into a seated position and look at the imitation-Cyrus in shock; one of the few times she'd let her mask slip. While Cyrus wasn't entirely to blame for awakening Ki'Tavi, he sure as hell didn't help the situation and now she feared rumors would begin to spread and cause a misunderstanding.

She scrambled away from Ki'Tavi, off the bed and hastily leaving the room with burning cheeks, but not before she turned to glare at Ki'Tavi with a warning, "You speak of this to anyone and you'll get a new reason for an unflattering nickname."

It was when she had managed to return to her own room that she realized she'd forgotten her shoes! She flopped down on her own bed and let out a humiliated groan before she began to try and steel herself against her emotions. She shouldn't allow herself to be bothered, she was above rumors. Veth breathed steadily and her blush faded away and her trademark stoicism was back in place. She pulled out her guild seal, intending to speak to Cyrus alone.

"What you saw was nothing intimate," she explained calmly, "This one lost a bet which resulted in her having to spend the night, nothing more was done that this one accidentally fell asleep and let her guard down. It shall not happen again."

She quickly moved on to the matter he had come to discuss with her, "You mentioned a mission."[/div][/div][/div]

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[Birdsie]

Holo-Cyrus| Ki'Tavi's Room | One Mean Ghost Fable

Holo-Cyrus' view of Veth and Kit as sophisticated grown-ups decreased exponentially; during his times, you'd marry a woman before bedding her. Doing otherwise was seen as lustful and deemed a social depravity. However, he understood that times change, so he drew on his memories and reflected, scanning through them, hoping to find a story or saying to give them advice. Outwardly, the hologram appeared to take a huff from his pipe.

His visage breathed out a ghastly, holographic vapor. He looked forward at no one in particular, melancholically. "In my times, a gentleman would marry his mistress before going to bed, but I suppose things change over time." He nodded slowly, taking another whiff from the pipe.

That's when Veth scrambled away. And since he was in the Guild Seal, his hologram was moved along with her, but without moving his feet. As his visage floated behind Veth toward the exist, and after she gave her warning, the Holo-Cyrus said: "Bye, Kit."

Veth defended herself with the stoicism of Rogal Dorn. Cyrus, now much smaller like an action figure and standing on Veth's Guild Seal like a platform, shook his head. "Veth, Veth, Veth. I'd have thought my lesson not to accept bets from one who's made bets his entire life wouldn't fall on deaf ears, but it appears yours were plugged." He gave her an unimpressed look, like that of a disappointed parent.

Elsimore / Ellis | Small Town > Fort Black | Fable

The silver figure looked down at the cowardly bandits. Their leader was formidable: a mage. But despite his skills, he found himself a bit surprised when Elsimore drew upon his full power and blasted his shield away with one, silver-white fireball.

Villagers watched, rejoicing from the sides of the street.

"Kneel," he ordered them. The bandits complained and whined, but when he raised his hands in their direction, they submitted to the command. The body of their barely-living leader was next to them, too injured and busy with squirming in pain to comply.

Ellis felt his meridians being strained like the lungs of someone who sprinted across a kilometer with only a ten-second break in the middle. During the fight with the bandit leader, he had to improvise as his enemy was a trickster with a nasty penchant for teleporting to avoid attacks.

In fact, the entire thing started with a rumor. He heard some peasant spout about his hometown being overtaken by bandits; the villagers were used as slave labor for almost a week. Chaos, resulting from the war. The funny thing is, the villagers would both outweaponize and outnumber the bandits if not for their mage leader. Just another reason that magic was a source of evil.

Ellis was about to put manacles on all of them and hand them over to the villagers, but something unexpected happened.

A dagger plunged into his side. Ellis recoiled and stepped forward, then spun around and haphazardly lashed out at whatever attacked him, rolling his hand from the right and releasing a wave of wind. The bandit leader, still alive, stood unhindered. The villages gasped and hid.

"I'm a trickster, remember? I always have an extra trick up my sleeve. Like an illusory duplicate."

Ellis dropped to the ground and lost concentration; almost all of his silver concealment fell down. Ellis stood up quickly, followed by the rest of the bandits. Adrenaline kicked in. Surprisingly enough, the knife wound didn't hurt that much. The problem was that his disguise fell, except for the face, which Ellis managed to keep screened.

"You are beaten," he stated. The bandit leader smirked. "What's your name? I really wanna know where you learned that silver trick."

"I'm Elsimore, what's yours? And I didn't learn it, bozo," he insulted. A moment passed and the bandit leader scowled. "I'm a sorcerer. It's inborn."

"I am the first son of Woguran, and my name is Cynco..." he said with an insulting smile. "Say, any chance we could negotiate? Teach me that silver power for us leaving this village alone?" The bandits gave him judging looks, as if he wasn't supposed to do that.

"After you dug a dagger into my back?"

"Side," he corrected.

A moment went by. Elsimore was unimpressed. "I don't think so. No deal." The village had to be protected, but he couldn't even teach the spellfire to him. It was impossible to copy such a power with ordinary magic.

Cynco sighed. "As I presumed. Then let's rumble."

Elsimore metered his mana. He could keep up the silver screen on his face for four minutes at most, and he had enough energy for another blast. Against a teleporter, it was too risky, and Cynco was using his bandits as living cover to ensure he didn't deliver the attack.

Therefore, an alternative was needed.

His goal was simple: save the village at all cost. Every single person had to survive. The bandits were the antagonist. They had to go away, permanently, or the village wouldn't be saved. Ellis knew that.

So he came up with an idea. A very dumb idea. He needed fifteen seconds. He had a spell, an incantation, but he needed to modify it. Metamagic on the fly was hard. Too hard.

Ellis sighed, defeated. Then he had to go with plan B.

He reached for his sword but it seemed stuck in the sheath.

Shit...

"Heh. Wait one moment, urm..." He pulled again. "One moment..." And again. Ellis looked down at the sword and kept pulling, but it wouldn't budge. Unimpressed, Cynco approached and cast two magic missiles, enough to put Ellis out of commission. The bolts struck his chest and killed him.

"What an idiot," Cynco commented.

...

Then, Ellis' body disappeared, fading like a hologram. An illusion. Cynco gasped and turned, only to find himself pulled inward as if he was a shard of metal flying toward a magnet. It was like a reverse version of the thunderwave spell; instead of pushing away from the epicenter, it pulled people in.

Elsimore appeared behind the bandits who were now stuck together. The bandit leader didn't have time to prepare a spell. Ellis rigged his Guild Seal for Mass Recall and jumped into the lump of human beings, then turned it on without hesitation. And the mass of coalesced human beings disappeared with a blue flash.

Instantly, the entire group of bandits and Ellis were teleported to Fort Black. More specifically, the courtyard.

Sixteen bandits dropped to the ground, followed by their leader and finally Ellis, who triumphantly dropped on the mountain of confused and hurt brigands. He stepped off and delivered a strong kick to Cynco's jaw, hoping it'd knock him out... but he was wrong.

The tip of his foot hit the leader's nose with a thwack and made it bleed. Cynco grunted in pain. "Agh, you asshole!" he screamed.

"S-Sorry," Ellis murmured faintly and after waiting a second, he repeated the action. Once, then twice, in quick succession. The second kick was sufficient and Cynco was unconscious.

He dropped his disguise as confused golems approached him and all kinds of commotion began to gather. A golem asked him, and Ellis explained he beat these bandits and brought them in to be held in the dungeon before they could be transferred elsewhere. He explained the situation, including one of them being a mage, and promised that the villagers could testify against the bandits.

The satisfaction that the Silver Sorcerer enjoyed was short-lived, as he remembered his curse. He asked around and looked for Drui

 

[LostHaven]

Faust Windfallow -- Living Quarters -- Interacting With Elizabeth ( Noble Scion )​

Faust's reaction was one of disappointment, barely able to listen to Elizabeth's irritating words. Her tone was not unlike that of a noblewoman, or even one of regal stature. "I'm sorry princess, did you expect me to live in a mansion or something?" He retaliated to Elizabeth's teasing, oblivious to his missing head until the white-haired lady decided to ask him regarding it. Placing his hands over the empty space that would have been his head, Faust finally realized for himself that he had misplaced a rather important part of the human body. "Oh shit, my head's actually gone..." Faust groaned, turning back and retreating to the safety of his room. "I don't know how you're walking around comfortably with that holy barrier set up around the fort." Faust unwillingly gestured to Elizabeth, inviting her inside.

Inside Faust's quarters, it was noticeable that the holy ward had been completely nullified, replaced by a deathly aura, much more suited for an undead. "I can't play around with necromancy while that barrier is there, so I set my own unholy ward here and in the vault entrance," Faust explained, reaching for a drawer under his desk. His hand grabbed a vial, filled with red liquid. It took a while, but Faust had collected all of the blood he spilled from butchering Natalie over the floor with a pipette. "I don't know if banshee blood is even drinkable..." He handed the vial to Elizabeth. Then, he sorted through a crate filled with human skeleton parts, bringing out a skull and attaching to his own body. A temporary replacement, though Faust still intended on finding his own head. "The only person that had came close to killing me was some fucking angel. And it ended horribly for him. So, it's been five decades, what's new?"

 

[Noble Scion]

Elizabeth Cain - Hallways/Faust's living quarters

Spoiler: Appearance

"You underestimate my ability to hold up a façade, my dear faust. It feels like I'm strolling through a desert without my umbrella, I doubt I could fend off a fly!" Elizabeth laughed jokingly, with a very small, yet audible hint of pain hidden within the sound. "I envy your abilities, It's a shame I'm such a low-level undead, can barely walk around under that.. Maybe I could hunt down the one who turned me and challenge them for the title of vampire lord... But that's something for another time." Elizabeth planned as she entered in after him hastily, almost with a sigh of relief as she entered the nullified area.

Elizabeth grasped the vial and tossing it's contents down her mouth. She cringed slightly afterwards due to the taste, but seemed rather content now that her vampirism had at least slightly been sated. "Seemed drinkable enough if you ask me, much appreciated." she hummed pleasantly to his back as he sorted through.. whatever the contents of those boxes were. "I have yet to be hunted by a true angel.. Have seen many bounty hunters in my life though, the living have something against me in particular.. Probably because I have become quite the entrepreneur. I have a chain of inns around the place and they seem to gather me quite a lot of money. Those humans do like their sleep it seems.. I find it difficult to remember what that was like. Aside from that, I have been living up my un-life, traveling the world, tasting different bloods.. It's become something like a hobby." The vampire monologued as she took a seat upon one of the many boxes strewn about the place, content with giving the sound of rummaging a song of words. "The world's gone to hell, Faust, since Turenval's arrival was announced. Nobody trusts each other and everywhere seems like it's on the brink of war, and that directly conflicts with my interests. It's not a good time to be an undead." Lady Cain sighed sullenly, her face dropping momentarily. "My contacts are refusing to respond, and there are a lot less travellers, meaning my business isn't going well. I took a risk getting here, but all I see are the young faces of children rather than hardened warriors... but I'm sure you knew all that, who doesn't?" She simply sighed, before her signature gentle smile adorned her beautifully pale face once more, gazing upon the back of at least one person she recognised. "Now then... What's all this about cyrus?"


LostHaven​

 

[LostHaven]

Faust Windfallow -- Living Quarters -- Interacting With Elizabeth ( Noble Scion )​

"Yep, I seemed to have severely underestimated your acting abilities, huh?" Faust commented, coming to the realization that Elizabeth was in fact, greatly affected by the holy aura that had enveloped the fort. Listening to Elizabeth's admittance to her envy towards Faust's power, he could only nod lightly in response. "My power came at a hefty fee..." Faust responded, almost whispering, a tiny tinge of sadness lining his words. However, his air of melancholy was soon replaced by one of slight interest, after hearing Elizabeth's idea of challenging the vampire lord who had turned her. "Ho? You plan on fighting some unnamed vampire lord?" Faust chirped in amusement. "Vampires are such weak undead. Your kind are vulnerable to sunlight, have an unquenchable thirst for blood, and if I remember correctly, susceptible to silver." Faust continued to explain his opinion on vampires. "In fact, if you ask me, I think a vampirism is more of an incurable disease than undeath." A slight laugh escaped his teeth (or mouth, but he doesn't have one), as he pulled over the chair tucked under his desk, and sat himself down on it.

His amusement faded however, as Elizabeth began to mention the situation the entire world was in right now. Unfortunately, Faust found himself agreeing to the vampire's words. Both regarding the fact that it was difficult for one to trust undead at the given time, and that the guild seemingly lacked capable men to even defend against Turenval's servants. "Of course I knew that. If you want my view on the matter, we're totally fucked. Screwed. Boned. Turenval's playing solitaire, and we're the fucking cards." Shaking his head, Faust reminded himself how hopeless mortalkind's situation is. "Xhorhas was saved, but only after The Conjurer of Tirisgarde managed to pull a bloody miracle, and I'd imagine his meridians got a tad bit fried in the process. And then the enemy dropped a huge motherfucking bomb on Xhorhas, and I'm going to safely say that every last thing in Xhorhas got completely obliterated. The guildmaster managed to bargain her way to six-month peace treaty, at the price of hading Cyrus to the demilich." Sighing in disappointment, Faust leaned to the side of his chair, and pulled rummaged through the crate to the side of him once more, this time pulling out several small bones and placing them on the table. "I'm under a strict order from the guild to remain as the vault-keeper, and to never leave the vault, and neither do I have any intention of assisting the living. Frankly, this isn't my business until my own ass is on the line. I'm sure you understand that I keep morals very low in terms of value and usefulness, they're more like shackles than anything. They're fucking useless and only serve to hinder yourself. You understand, yes? In fact, if the situation gets seriously hopeless, I don't find it unlikely that I'll end up on the opposite side of this war. The only reason Turenval lost last time because William Black, and he's as dead as dead can be. Seriously, I won't even criticise you for joining Turenval's forces, since that is actually the smartest thing to do." After a while, Faust finally decided to end his meaningless rambling, and began to work on the bones he had picked out of his box. "I get most of those corpses from either the desolation, or off of murderers. Some of them pay decent money to cover up evidence," Faust explained, "forgive me for that little fit, I assume you're going to want something to keep that holy ward off you while walking outside? Give me about a minute, and if you could, do me a favor and find my head. The skull I'm wearing right now's cheekbones are lower, its got a squarer jaw, wider eye sockets, and its missing teeth. Last I remember, my head was somewhere near the infirmary."

 

[Reinhardt]

Ragna
Location: Ragna's Workshop
Interactions: LostHaven

In the span of a week, a lot of things has changed around the guild, and the world - which in turn, affected Ragna's dedicated area.

His arcane network, which he uses to transfer raw energy from one place to another, is somehow experiencing malfunctions every now and then for some reason - and after a quick analysis, it seems that some large-scaled light magic was causing this. With such inconsistencies occurring in his once perfect set-up for energy transfer and usage, he was forced to temporarily disable several of his security measures - including the shape-shifting labyrinth he crafted for days.

The various shipments he has ordered to restock on his alchemy reagents haven't arrived, along with the miasmic mandrakes he had ordered about a month ago. Without a decent supply on resources, he, yet again, is forced to put several of his projects on hold.

What's more, the homoncu-maid he has sent out, Louren, still hasn't returned. Delivering a simple message shouldn't take a week long, so what in the world is taking her so long? Well, the answer may be more profound that you expect - she simply got lost. Louren wasn't really exposed outside Ragna's workshop until recently, hence her knowledge on matters about the world outside her 'birthplace' isn't really reliable at all.

Finally, after the passage of a few hours, a voice was heard outside the fortified doors leading towards Ragna's workshop.

"Lord Ragna, please forgive my tardiness."

"Finally.", Ragna said. With a snap of his fingers, two more homoncu-maids rushed to his side and bowed. Without any word spoken, they pressed various buttons and switches, and pulled two levers simultaneously. The sound of metal clunking, and various mechanical noises reverberated from inside the doors. And after a few seconds, the doors finally opened wide - once it was, the two homocu-maids bowed to Ragna, then promptly left.

Entering now, was Louren. She stepped in, and bowed.

"What took you so long?", he asked without hesitation.

"I-I got lost...", Louren replied, her voice slightly trembling. "M-my deepest apologies, Lord Ragna."

Ragna sighed. He knew exactly the reason why that happened, but he was too busy working on his many projects that he had forgotten to look over his creations. "It's fine.", he said. "So, what did he say?"

"Um.", Louren's lips slightly twitched. "H-he said that you can kiss his ass because he has better things to do, and that you should go pick some roots in the Great Forest if you were seeking for mandrakes."

"What."

"I-I'm sorry, Lord Ra-"

"No, I'm not mad at you.", he said. "Has Cyrus forgotten that miasmic mandrakes don't exist there? What exactly is going on out there that a so-called genius like him to commit that mistake?"

"A woman he was with said something about Death Knights and cities getting destroyed.", Louren added. "I'm confused, Lord Ragna. What are Death Knights?"

Ragna was silent for a few seconds. "You'll know what they are soon. For now, go and help out your sisters."

"Understood, Lord Ragna.", the homoncu-maid bowed before leaving.

And just as he was about to close the door, he saw a strange thing flying just a few meters beyond his borders. He squinted his eyes. The flying figure grew closer and closer, until it was revealed to be a bird!

And not just any ordinary bird, it was a raven!
And not just any ordinary raven, it was a dead one! Made of bones and rotten flesh! Flying, straight towards his doorstep.

"Nope.", Ragna casually said, as he pressed one of the many buttons beside the opened doors. "I'm not getting my carpet stained by that." And within a second, a giant net fell unto the undead bird, causing it to drop on the ground, unable to escape as it struggles to break free.

Ragna steps outside the doors of his workshop, and approached the restrained familiar. "Now, who in the world would have sent this?"

 

[Hanarei]

​

Location: Guildhall
Seeking:
Ellis Birdsie
Mention
(Open for Interaction)

A flicker from the portal could be seen as a figure slowly emerged from the portal. Risa's hair looked a bit longer then from when she entered in, hanging an inch further down then it had been upon entering. Her eyes appeared blood shot, her hand slipping an object she had brought in with her away into her pocket. She blinked her eyes in an effort to try and moisten them having been a bit strenuous using them. She seemed a bit worn down given her somewhat disheveled appearance though she didn't seem to show it in terms of her body language. She wasn't the type who liked to generally show any sort of weakness, granted she tended to be less sucessful when it came to drinking. She couldn't deny her desire for a nice stiff drink right then and there but it was something she would have to put on hold.

Her eyes glanced around. It seemed so peaceful... at least as peaceful as it could be given the events that were occurring. As much as she wanted everyone to become stronger to address the new fight, she didn't want to wear them down ragged either. Positive moral was important, and given what was going on in the outside world as it was, she knew full well how uneasy the guild could be inside if tipped just too far. To say recruit had gone down was perhaps an understatement. It wasn't that unexpected given the loss of Xhorhas and Cyrus having been taken away.

She didn't notice Ellis immediately. A light sigh escaping her lips. Since she had managed to spare him from being taken away she sought to make sure he repaid back the favor even if he had no say in the matter. If she could find a way to utilize the weave, it meant they had one more tool that could help them. While it could likely bolster their enemy, they stood to have much more to gain by learning to utilize it. It was her turn to rest but she was going to make sure the boy made effective use of his time. Still, she had to at the very least attend to guild matters of her own. She still had duties to do as the Guildmaster even if it seemed as much as far as diplomatic action with the world had all but vanished after the loss and the temporary peace deal she managed to broker. She began to walk through the main hall looking for Ellis though not opposing anyone who wanted to speak to her.

 

[Reinhardt]

Bianca Ensyreia
Location: Room Balcony → Guild Hall
Interactions: Hanarei

It's been a week since the incident at Xhorhas. The guild's morale has been damaged with the absence of the renowned mage Cyrus. Even though losing him gave the guild six months to prepare, with how things are looking, such little time wouldn't be enough. And if the guild can't even handle Turenval's minions, what hope is there for Albion's survival?

Bianca gazes upon the seemingly calm sky, standing on the balcony of her room. She may have found the resolve to draw her blade back then, but she could not keep her mind from worrying about the price of her actions. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, subconsciously telling herself to do what must be done, when the time arrives.

She heard the sound of flapping wings, growing louder and louder, as if it was getting closer towards her. Upon opening her eyes, she sees a pigeon perched on top of the balcony's railing. As she stared at it, the pigeon began to glow, and suddenly in the blink of an eye, it exploded into dust - which then glowed brilliantly as it slowly formed the crest of Espania.

Bianca was speechless.

Before the dust could dissipate, it gave off a weak magical pulse, which seems to have only affected Bianca - her head suddenly ached, and a distorted voice echoed in her ears repeatedly. Despite the voice being distorted, the repeated message it gave to her was very clear.

"Return to Espania, Einherjar. Your land needs you."​

The noise dissipated a few seconds shortly, and the aching of Bianca's head subsided quickly. She knew what that meant. But was she willing to return to a land which deliberately tore apart her 'family' and disowned them?

Bianca clenched her fists as she turned, and headed back inside her room. She won't throw away what she has learned during her time with the other Einherjar, she will not discard the honor and dignity they once had. With a sigh, Bianca has finally decided what she has to do. Hence, she dressed up, and left her room.

Bianca headed towards the guild hall, hoping to find the guildmaster. And with enough luck, she manages to bump onto her.

"Boss.", she said, a grim tone clearly evident in her voice. "I need a word with you."

 

[Noble Scion]

Elizabeth Cain - Hallways/Faust's living quarters

Spoiler: Appearance

"This disease has its benefits. I would have died many years ago if it were not for it, and it improves my physical abilities, when I'm not in the sunlight, but yes, most certainly an incurable disease than a blessing." The vampire said optimistically, attempting to view more of the bright side of what she'd been living with for many years than the negatives. "Blood is more abundant than food when you're poor, it kept me alive for a while, but that was back when I was merely a child." she smiled gently, lost in the past briefly before turning back to the present and paying more attention to the fellow undead's words.

"Six months is something, I suppose. But it's a mere blink of the eye to the immortal, like me, you or Turenval. I can't foresee a timeline where this 'Guild of Heroes' win without Black." She mumbled, taking note about the small battle than seemed to have occurred already. "Morals are a petty thing mortals like to cling to for some strange high ground. Once you see enough death, risks seem more like an inconvenience if they don't serve to give some other form of benefits. They detract from logical thinking and are a bad mindset for business. I didn't get this far relying on the morals of others, and I don't suppose anyone else should rely on mine." Elizabeth chuckled, finding the whole concept of doing good for the sake of good as rather silly. "Then again, I supposed ripping into peoples' flesh to stay alive isn't exactly a good way of keeping other people's safety as your main goal" the laughter went on, the simple thought of the situation she was in and had been in for many years catching up to her.

"That's my final resort. If there is no chance we win against Turenval, I plan on bargaining to see if I can switch sides and maybe serve him some use. One of the few benefits of being undead and immortal, I suppose. If he declines, I'll be murdered, if he agrees, I'll be in a bad spot with all the other dead on his side, but at least I'll be alive.. Or.. Well, as alive as a vampire can be, anyway." she explained, crossing her legs over one another as she enjoyed the fact that she could rest after all her travelling. "A ward would be wonderful, if it isn't too much hassle, and don't you worry, I'll keep an eye out for those wonderful cheekbones of yours" The pale woman flirted jokingly, still thinking about the leftover taste in her mouth and pondering the state of her dwindling business. She'd ordered all the hotels be closed due to the lack of travel to save money, which would probably put those that worked in them into poverty, but she didn't really care. They were most likely about to die to Turenval in a couple of months anyway

LostHaven​

 

[Birdsie]

Interlude -- Prisoner #1

Seven days.

Cyrus' white hair and beard were murky and muddled with brown specks of dirt. His bag, dagger, hat, and even pipe were all taken away from him and placed in a chest in a room opposite of his cell. The heavy iron collar on his neck disabled meridian activity, like a poison that prevents your body from resting, but for the soul. His mana couldn't regenerate.

Seven days did Cyrus last in these conditions with only scraps of bread and bleak water to keep him going.

His discouraged eyes flashed with hope when he heard the rattling of iron as a tray with food was put in through a slit in the door. A loaf of stale bread, a cup of water, and what looked like a chunk of uncooked or poorly cooked meat.

Cyrus threw himself at the meal, with no silverware -- just hands -- and devoured it voraciously. The wizard was hungry. He was fed like this only once every two or three days, depending on the humor of the warden.

The bread was stiff, a bit rocky in texture, but edible. The insides were stale and fusty. The water was just that. Water, probably taken from a stream somewhere in the forest and later purified for mortal consumption. The meat? Cyrus didn't even want to theorize. It tasted bland and it was chewy. It would probably be hard to cut through with a fork and knife. In fact, teeth and hands seemed more reliable in this department, at least hypothetically.

When he was done, he put the tray back through, indicating to the guard that he was done.

He spent the rest of the day in the cell, hopeless. He despaired that his time to depart this world would come soon. As soon as Turenval decided to research the spellfire, that was.

And that time came when a guard came and locked manacles on his wrists, then dragged Cyrus away.

After going down a mechanical lift, the wizard found himself in a very long, narrow street. It was mostly empty, save for pale humanoids walking around. Most, he theorized, were humans or elves once upon a time, or at least descended from them. But now, they were necropolitans -- similar to zombies, but sentient and less rotting. Nonetheless, they were undead.

These necropolitans had to live here, in the suburbs of the city. They were a higher race -- not mortal -- but still lower class. The higher classes lived near Turenval's palace, with delightful gardens full of colorful flowers and illusions that made the dark sky appear blue and clear. Rewards of the Dark Lord. A way to show that Turenval detests mortality, not beauty.

The buildings were very tall, taller than at least five stories each, even though the part of the city that Cyrus was in was actually considered to be the suburbs, outskirts. The streets were very minimal in size, only enough to fit two or three people walking shoulder-to-shoulder. They felt cramped and the towering stone constructions around Cyrus made him feel claustrophobic. The sky above was clouded.

Cyrus supposed that people moved through the buildings, rooftops, or some underground railway system rather than the streets. For what reason, he did not know.

To be fair, the city, for all of its darkness, had some sort of undeniable charm. The way it was built, with clear efficiency in mind, gave it a very taut and collected appearance. When you build a room on the ground that is five by five meters wide and long, it takes exactly that space. When you build three more rooms on top of it, adding floors, you multiply its actual space four times without limiting the space on the outside further. This arrangement and architecture was very logical, even if not very decorative.

The guard behind him hastened him onward by pushing him with the pole of his spear. Cyrus walked where he was directed and ended up having to go right to one of the buildings, then up a flight of circular stairs until they were on the building. There was his answer.

It looked like every second city block had a small magic circle. Teleport, Cyrus thought. Efficient indeed. Even with his soul fettered, he felt the connection of the local mythallar with these teleports. A very efficient and effective system with minimal components. No additional and unnecessary systems; everything not required to work was cut out to have additional resources to allocate elsewhere.

Across the city, Cyrus saw it. The Grand Palace. An ominous, commanding spire of black obsidian. A jagged monolith that exuded ancient hatred, surrounded by dozens of dark, winged beasts that watched over the dreary skies. At the very top of the tower, there was a white ball of light. The mythallar that gave the city its magical energy, possibly. It must have been responsible for the sky illusions that Cyrus saw earlier near the center, as well as for the teleport network. And as an educated guess: it was responsible for a great other many things.

Cyrus walked into the circle on his own and he was teleported without the guard. The wizard found his arms moving on their own and he was instantly shackled against the wall. No circle under his feet. Delivery teleportation? Damn... I'd have said I'm impressed if Turenval wasn't a total bastard.

He took a moment to scout his surroundings.

His manacles split and were now connected to a wall of large, gray bricks. The room was well-lit, with torches and candles overlooking grand bookshelves with mystic tomes that even he could barely dream of. A wooden table laid across the room with a slightly upturned top and a comfortable chair -- a reading spot.

Not far away from him, there was a menacing metal table with adjustable shackles for the hands, ankles, and neck, just big enough to fit a human, elf, orc or any other humanoid with a similar body. Next to it was a table with various tools, some magical and some surgical.

In another corner of the room was a huge kettle, constantly burning with a green flame underneath. The water in it steamed with whatever vile potion was being prepared in there. Next to it was an area of considerable size, with an anvil, furnace, and smithing tools. There were supply crates next to it, full of various dark-colored metals and colorful jewels.

Cyrus waited for several minutes, waiting in trepidation...

And then, he walked into the room.

 

[LostHaven]

Faust Windfallow -- Living Quarters -- Interacting With Elizabeth ( Noble Scion ) -- Mentions ( Prince_ )​

"Go fuck yourself." Faust replied, unimpressed by Elizabeth's flirtatious comment. "I mean, I guess you're better than Natalie in every way, shape, and form though." Faust raised the undead part he was working on, and inspected it. He had arranged the bones into the shape of which was more recognizable- it was a hand. Next, he channeled a huge amount of negative energy into it, so much so that it was almost unnerving. The fingers began to move on their own, and Faust held it out in front of him. "Good enough." He muttered, as he placed it back on his table, and put some 'finishing touches' on the trinket.

"Ok. Should be done now." He muttered, placing the hand on Elisabeth's shoulder. It clasped onto her shoulder and remained there. "Uh, yeah, it's supposed to constantly channel negative energy into your body to counteract that holy magic barrier thing, I have no clue if it works, have fun, I'm immune to turning." Faust then pointed toward his door. "Ok, you can get out now, I'm out of blood, that thing's got enough negative energy to keep that holy ward off you for about 16 hours." He told her, standing up from his own chair. "I need to be somewhere else soon. If you find my head, just drop it on my desk. Depending on my mood, I might find blood for you when I'm bothered."

 

[Noble Scion]

Elizabeth Cain - Hallways/Faust's living quarters

Spoiler: Appearance

View attachment 448949

Elizabeth simply laughed the laugh of a young woman that had seen too much death in her life-time already in response. "I can handle a bit of unholy magic. I'm a bit more.. capable than your average zombie. Age has given me strength, but my classification is still the same, for now." She explained needlessly as she placed the charm around her neck, shuddering for a couple of moments afterwards, but recomposing herself soon afterwards. "Much better and much appreciated."

"I should be able to fend for myself for now, just between the travelling and the holy ward I couldn't do very much. I shall repay you for this later, if I am capable. For now, I shall take my leave. Thank you my lovely~" Elizabeth smiled sweetly as she un-crossed her legs, stood up and made her way to the door. "I'll keep an eye out for the skull, if you need me, just stab someone and I'm sure I'll smell it." She joked, half-humorous, half-serious as she strode her way once more into the hallways, her footsteps calm and methodical as though she were in perfect control of everything. "I bet this Natalie girl wouldn't be too happy with Faust's comparison.." Elizabeth mused before disappearing round a corner, unsure of where to go, but assuming that the infirmary would be the place where the scent of blood was strongest, and as such, simply followed her nose

LostHaven​

 

[Alteras]

[div class=EmilyFlex] [div class=EmilyImage][div class=EmilyImageInside][/div] [div class=EmilyTitle]Emily Chevalier[/div] [div class=EmilyMentions] Character Sheet
Location:
Guild of Heroes
Emily's Bedroom > Hallway
Interactions:
Open to Interactions. [/div][/div] [div class=EmilyContent]Inside a room filled with books, texts, drawings, randomly tossed articles of clothing, and quite a number of empty mana potions laid a body, rested a body that hasn't moved in days. But soon, a voice could be heard emanating from it. "ma.... na..." The person stirred a bit as her long ears began to twitch. "Need... mor... mana..." Soon, the body began to rock side to side. "Need... more ma— BLUGH!!!"

Emily's body shot forward and immediately to the side, placing her chin over the edge of the bed before spewing out a rainbow of atrocities. "ha... ha... goddamn mana exh—BLUGHHHHH!!" The biological weapon continued to increase in intensity.

After several minutes of doomsday, Emily managed to make it out of bed. She casted a barrier to contain Armageddon before putting cleaning herself up. Who changed me into my night dress? The thought wandered through her mind as she slowly changed into her standard attire. Just as she finished clipping on her earring, she turned to look at the calamity beside her bed. Clasping and unclasping her fists, she began to cast a spell to clean it all up and eliminate the scourge of humanity. As End Times was thrown out of the window, Emily turned, walked out of the door, and leaned against a wall for support. "Ugh... This is why I keep telling her we need more Arcanists."

Emily began her slow walk to find someone to explain to her what has happened, how long she was out, and who changed her clothes. [/div][/div] [class=EmilyFlex] width: 100%; max-width: 1000px; margin: 0 auto; justify-content: center; align-items: stretch; display: flex; flex-flow: row wrap; box-sizing: border-box; [/class] [class=EmilyImage] position: relative; width: 300px; max-width: 100%; min-height: 300px; background-image: url('https://orig00.deviantart.net/f69c/f/2013/081/9/3/da_brocade_custom_box_background_by_gasara-d5ag4ls.gif'); background-color: rgb(218, 212, 218); background-blend-mode: multiply; background-repeat: no-repeat; margin: 5px; [/class] [class=EmilyImageInside] position: absolute; top:0; bottom: 0; left: 0; right: 0; background-image: url('https://www.rpnation.com/media/3822838135964a2c83e4ec0027-1499767526_waifu2x_art_noise3_tta_1-png.36357/full'); background-size: 120%; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: center 0%; [/class] [class=EmilyTitle] position: absolute; bottom: 0; height: auto; width: 100%; padding: 5px; box-sizing: border-box; height: auto; text-align: center; font-size: 45px; font-family: 'Cormorant Upright'; color: #e73359; background-color: rgba(218, 212, 218, .5); [/class] [class=EmilyMentions] position: absolute; width: 100%; height: 100%; top:0; padding: 5px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Philosopher'; color: #e5e5dd; opacity: 0; background-color: rgba( 0,0,0,0.65); transition: opacity .5s; [/class] [class name=EmilyMentions state=hover] opacity: 1; [/class] [class=EmilyContent] position: relative; min-width: 200px; flex: 1; height: auto; padding: 0px 15px; margin: 5px; font-family: 'Philosopher'; [/class]

 

[Birdsie]

Alteras Hanarei fluticasone Swire LostHaven Bakuyoshi Octo Girl CrimsonEclipse Graystone713 Reinhardt Noble Scion Sea Jay Kylesar1 Axel The Englishman Archdemon LoneSniper87 Ms. Sparrow Kylesar1 Fable One Mean Ghost Goretiss Howling StoneWolf18 Inheritance Rumble Fish Prince_ Airagog Kiyoko Tomoe Yahhah

The Guild Seals flared up with magic, vibrating and glowing bright blue. "Priority report. We have received statements of Verraketh's goals in Espania. The Councilman reported the Death Knights are there to seize an artifact in the Dungeon of Caballero. Suggested course of action: Send in a mobile team to seize the relic before the forces of darkness can. Estimated time until arrival: eight hours. Dungeon marked on holomap, available through Guild Seals."

 

[LoneSniper87]

Vesryn glances at his seal, wiphich was still clutched in the arms of the woman from Xhorhas. He walked over and gently pulled it from her hands, looking to see what the message was for. "Hmm." He hummed aloud, setting his seal on the table as he sat back down. He was unsure if going was the right choice, but also he felt he would be needed, as always. Perhaps he would be alerted of the others that would come.