Fantasy Dark Omens (Main)

[Enkerzed]

DARK OMENS



Neath a faltered sky.
Cross loam-less plains, and watered blight.
Ah! Where gone those days?
Once glory shone so bright!
Fallen 'neath baleful wings dark as night.
Ah! A moment give to me.
Hark! Shall none hear this soul's tale,
Of a land, benight?
​

RULES​

• Do not post in this thread unless your character has been approved by me.
• Do not control, kill or cause harm to anyone else's character without their EXPRESS permission through the OOC or pm.
• Do not write anything OOC in this thread.
• Tag anyone who's character you are interacting with.
• If no one posts within 3 days after the last, I will to move things along.
• Keep track of mana and any use of abilities at the end of each post where your character has used one. Refer here for details.

Dunan Bram awoke with a cry, gasping for breath as though having struggled free from the grips of the night hag. Still dizzy with vertigo from the Magician's time spell, the brown haired youth, once a raven haired man, continued lying on his side in a pile of muddy hay where he had apparently collapsed. Slowly, slowly, he rolled over and raised himself up on his elbows so his golden eyes could take in the immediate surroundings. Cold cobblestone floor, dawn light seeping in through an open door and the long forgotten stench of horse manure. This was it, the stable where he used to work ten years ago in the city of Liotra. The spell had worked!

No, wait, he thought as he tried to stand, his legs shaking with the effort as though being used for the first time. Is it the right day or even the right year? And what about the others, where are they?

Closing his eyes, Dunan attempted to recall what the Magician had said before sending him and all the other Champions of Gaia back through time, or at least all the ones who were left anyway. Try as he might however, the entire event was difficult to remember despite it happening only a moment ago. It was like trying to hold onto the fleeting memory of a long dream, quickly forgotten once it was over. He could not even picture what the Magician had looked like, despite him being an actual deity in the flesh. Dunan did however remember the task he had been charged with. Meet with the others in the city of Liotra and prevent the assassination of the king. But where to meet exactly and how would he recognize them?

Or how would they recognize me? he thought as he rubbed his chin, noticing a distinct lack of stubble anywhere on his smooth skin.

Dunan was fuzzy on the details and could not remember much of the plan, or if there even was one. For now however, he knew that he had to move. With great effort, he finally mastered full use of his legs and his first course of action was to test how much of his power had been retained. As he suspected however, the only ability he possessed was the one he was born with as he soon confirmed while passing his hand through a wooden beam, slipping in and out like air through cloth.

Not much good hanging around here, Dunan realized as he heard the city beginning to awaken, footsteps and voices filtering into the stable from outside. Feeling naked without a weapon, he rummaged through a knight's saddlebags hanging by a stall door and fished out a gleaming dagger.

"Hope you don't mind," he said to the horse behind the door as he left the stable and walked out onto the streets, making a beeline for the city square with the dagger tucked into his belt. Hopefully, the others who had been sent back in time would have the same idea, though he was still unsure of how to signal his identity to them and tried to think of a way as he walked.

As if the very consideration of his current appearance triggered it, a memory of the Magician's sonorous voice came to mind and Dunan remembered his warning, "There is a chance your younger self may not understand who you are and what you must do."

What could that mean? Dunan wondered as he entered the city square, the fountain at the centre of it as grand and ornate as ever... before the madness of the future had taken it.

Dunan used Intangibility. Mana is now 9/10.​

 

[Lekiel]

All she remembered was the peculiar feeling of displacement as if she were in two places at once. Being wrenched and stretched across an inexorable distance in a swirling myriad of colours and whispered mumblings. The forlorn cries of aeons of anguish zipped by her fevered consciousness in a flash as she tumbled and roiled within herself. A nauseating experience that could only be described as an unending rolling fall, her insides churned and folding in on itself, every part of her flipping. Converging. Until finally, a skull-cracking rap in the centre of what must've been her forehead. Her vision went white with a tinge of red, a choked gasp catching at her throat. Then all was still.

She was breathing again. Alive and in one piece. Not scattered all across multiple instances of her past life, an idea that unwittingly popped into her head when she had tried to grasp what exactly The Mage was proposing. She had agreed to it before asking questions of course, typical of one named Solandis. She almost regretted her decision. Almost, except for the fact that this last attempt was all they had left.

From the ruins of the forsaken future they came from.

Dimly she heard the voice of one speaking. At first, she wasn't sure if it were some ghostly residue of her journey through time. But as she could now hear the beating of a very real heart coursing through her ears, she figured she must've made it. Landed somewhere. Gaia knows where.

She opened her eyes. Strands of golden wheat framed her swimming vision. A piece of wood. No. A table.

"Solandis! Heyyyy lady!" A rap thunk against her back, causing her to startle and whip her head around. She immediately regretted it. She barely caught sight of a face that made her heart skip, before she was dry heaving into the dusty ground.

Gods... this is awful... She wiped at her mouth, noticing the gauntleted hand.

"By Gaia, I won't be surprised if I saw pigs flying! The others surely won't believe this... Lady Golden Bow asleep on duty! AHAHA!" The all too familiar voice jeered on. The hearty laughter tugged at her heartstrings, as nostalgia flooded her veins.

The worn soldier extricated herself from the ground, and stood on wobbly feet to finally regard the raucous poltergeist that hounded her ears. She looked him full in his rugged boyish face. The clear blue eyes. That mop unkempt of salt and pepper hair. She could feel the tears brimming in her eyes.

"Coren!" She immediately pulled him into a deep embrace, somehow managing to keep the tears at bay. He was her first regret. The very first ghost to haunt her dreams. She rued the day she lost him, all because of her callow naivety.

"Whoa! Whoa!" The other soldier was taken by surprise, his frame rigid with the sudden show of affection. But Solandis didn't care. She clutched his armoured form close to her, hands digging into his frame as if languishing in his very physical existence. An existence which she missed so dearly.

"Sol... I think all that training and lack of sleep must've finally gotten to you.. heh... heh.. you really should take a break." Except for a stray sniffle, Solandis finally managed to regain her composure. Rubbing to clear her eyes behind his back, she finally released her dear friend. Coren had been like a brother to her. The two became fast friends on the very first day they joined the army. A friendship that would last until his untimely death.

"You know what... I think you should head back. There's still maybe an hour or so before we switch our posts, but I think I can cover for you." Coren was speaking again.

He was alive... that meant... She glanced out at the Aegean blue sky through the window of the little guard post. It looked to be sometime in the very early morning. She was beginning to have an inkling to where she was now. And when. They were right on time. The Magus' spell had worked perfectly. She looked back at Coren, the kindling flame that had always been in her heart, even in the direst of situations as was the place she had come from, now flared with renewed hope. They had to prevent the King's death. And by doing so, they would save all. Coren... Papa... the memories of their lifeless eyes shall never haunt her dreams again!

"Uhh... Sol? You're zoning out again-"

"Thank you!" She grabbed her friend by the shoulders, startling him once more with her intensity.

"Wha-... I mean sure, any time Sol! But please make sure you get enough rest-"

"Don't worry about me. I'll be heading off now. Please take care of yourself." She beamed at him, before pulling in for another embrace. She wished she could stay, but they had a task to do. She offered him one final beaming grin then she was off, leaving behind a rather perplexed Coren.

It was surreal. Walking through the cobbled streets of Liotra all over again. She wanted to just stop and smell the freshness of the air. Untainted by the bitterness of despair, clear of ash and the metallic tinge from rivers of blood. And she did take a brief moment, just long enough to instinctively check that her weapons were still with her. The golden shaft of Dawnsinger and the hefty weight of Trollsbane. She unsheathed the latter, a brief cloud of darkness passing over her features as she looked at the still gleaming blade. It had yet to bathe in the blood of the damned.

There was no moment to tarry. With resolute strides, she made her way towards the city square. With any luck, some of the others might see it fit to meet up at that common point. It was the most logical choice of action after all. And if not there, perhaps the gates leading into the palace. Solandis wondered how she might distinguish them. Would the decade make all the difference? She wondered how she looked herself, wishing she had time to pause and check a mirror somewhere. Perhaps the fountain at the square? From what she could see of her hair, it was back to its blonde days. A funny thing that... after all that she had been through, to worry about the colour of her hair.

Enkerzed xrakkax Severinus Kharmin SilverFeathers Epiphany

 

[Kharmin]

The incessant buzzing in her head and the sensation that it might explode finally woke Marie-Louise. It wasn't her first concussion and she was sure it wouldn't be her last. She tried to open her eyes, but the kick to her stomach clenched them shut as her breath wooshed from her body.

Voices were speaking, but she couldn't understand the words that echoed just below the buzzing. Another kick and the tone of her assaulter was more clear. Had she finally taken on too many at once? And what of her armor? Why were these blows getting through?

The attack stopped with such abruptness that she unconsciously flinched at the next blow that never came. "That's enough," a boy's voice pierced through to her. "I'm sure the bitch has learned this time."

Marie-Louise tried again to open her eyes, but managed only one as the other had swollen shut. She tasted blood from a split lip but paid it no further attention. Five lads, in their late teen years, stood in a crude semi-circle around her. The muck from the alley smeared in Marie-Louise's hair, clothes and covered her face where it hid bruises from the assault.

Wait she thought. This scene was all too familiar. Against odds, Marie-Louise had fought the more nefarious denizens of Loitra ever since she and her family moved to the city. They had preyed on the younger, weaker kids in the quarter until Marie-Louise had arrived and stood firm against them with her special fighting talents learned years earlier.

Only this time, if memory served, it had been a ruse. She had been led into an ambush and was not prepared for the violence that her attackers had brought to bear. She had managed to fight several of them off until she had been able to escape the trap. But not this time?

Does that mean.... ? It had worked? Had Marie-Louise actually been brought backward in time, to... do .... something I was supposed to do?

She moaned as she started to push herself up from the detritus of the alley. The five boys took a step back at her resilience. One, more brave than the rest, started to move toward her but was pulled back by another.

"C'mon, she's had enough," he pleaded. "We're supposed to teach her a lesson, not kill her."

"Maybe that is the lesson," the brave one said as he ripped his forearm from his conspirator's grip. Marie-Louise pushed herself up to her hands and knees. Through a veil of mud-caked hair, her one, good azure eye watched his approach. She wondered if her talent still remained and if it would be enough to escape with her life; otherwise, the entire trip to the past was all for naught.

Epiphany

 

[Severinus]

One moment the last survivors and hope of all remaining humans had stood together, as the Magician performed his final ritual to give them the chance to change history, the next moment the world had started to spin around him. His hopes to save not just the world, but the most important person of his world, Lourayley, had been at the forefront of his mind. But now they were replaced by feelings of confusion, disorientation and dizziness, as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath – or rather wanted to take a deep breath. The moments between him making the decision to breath in deeply and the actual breath being taken seemed to stretch unnaturally, as if one tried desperately to wake up from a dream which was still clinging to his mind.

Finally, the air filled his lungs and the horrifying feeling of being unable to breath subsided. His blood pounded loudly in his ears covering all noises for the moment. After the second deep breath, a female voice reached his ear above the subsiding noise of his own blood - a voice which he had not heard in many years. „Olivoyr Riodan, what are you doing?“, his mother scolded and the use of his full name made him aware of how annoyed she was. „People are already staring at us!“, she hissed in a softer voice which only he could hear.

Finally opening his eyes, Olivoyr was surprised by his surroundings. Instead of their small lodge in the woods they were in an inn with dozens of people sitting closely at several tables. Still a bit dizzy and confused, the young man stared at his surroundings, before comprehension caught up with him. This was the time of their annual trip to Liotra to visit Lourayley. As he felt a hand touching his forehead, Olivoyr flinched violently, before he realised that is was his mother. Her tone had changed from annoyed to that of a concerned mother, as she asked him: „Are you alright, Oli?“

While she fuzzed over him, his brother sneered condescendingly. How on Gaia could he ever have this …? Catching himself mid-thought, he immediately felt guilty. The last he remembered of them, his loving mother, his taciturn father and his slightly arrogant brother were their burnt and mutilated corpses. He should be more happy to have them back again, alive and well. „You really look sick“, his mother sounded truly distressed by now. „No fever. Did you eat anything bad?“ Shaking his head, Olivoyr started to think how he could get away and start this endeavour of saving the king and the world along with him. „Maybe I should go and see Lourayley“, he suggested feebly. „She studied all this … stuff“, he struggled with his thoughts and words. After all none of the family had never comprehended what their smart daughter or sister studied. „If you don't know it, it could be something strange and dangerous.“ He was on dangerous grounds now, as his mother was the village herbalist and knew how to diagnose and treat any ordinary sickness. Not insulting her and getting her to agree that he could go to his sister was important for him.

After eyeing him worriedly for several more moments, his father intervened in one of his rare moments of speaking a decision: „Let Lou take a look at the boy!“ Breathing out almost too audibly after holding his breath, Olivoyr beamed at his father. His mother was bound to agree now which she did reluctantly. Leaving the small bowl of porridge on the table, he turned to the stairs which would lead him to the common room upstairs where they had rented a sleeping place as every year.

The moment he stepped into the common room and his eyes fell on the bow and quiver he had discarded onto his bed quite unceremoniously, he remembered the episode which had taken place only yesterday, but which now seemed like a lifetime ago. His father had intended for him to join the guards of Liotra and wanted him to use the chance of their visit to the city to apply for such a position. Obediently, Olivoyr had applied for the position and been among the best when it came to his skills with handling a bow. But as he was supposed to fight with a sword, he had been completely lost never having held a sword in hands all of his life. Maybe with the skills he had acquired later as a scout for the army he might have stood a chance, but his 16 year old self was completely overwhelmed. After dodging the first few blows he had fallen for a feint and been disarmed within seconds. The disappointment in his father's eyes still hurt him. Even though all the events which had happened to him in the meantime made this a rather irrelevant episode, yet he blushed nonetheless in shame.


Hiding his bow, quiver and backpack under his cloak, he sneaked down the stairs and tried to stay unseen by his family. Of course, he could not fool his mother who waited for him at the bottom of the stairs. „Stay safe!“, she whispered, as she pulled him into a hug. „And don't do anything bad.“ For a moment, he felt a pang of guilt for the way he lied to his parents now. Then, his more practical, older self took over and focused his thoughts on his mission. Somewhere in Liotra he was supposed to meet the others. However, he did not know either the city or the background of his comrades in this endeavor well enough to really know where he should meet with them. The last days he had spent in Liotra in his future or past life depending on the perspective had taken place in a completely different, partially destroyed city. But, he had a plan for this scenario. He would involve Lourayley and tell her the truth about his mission. His smart and noble sister would know what to do and which places where reasonable for meeting here in the city.

Enkerzed xrakkax Kharmin SilverFeathers Epiphany Lekiel

 

[Epiphany]

Aymeline came awake on her horse.

It wasn't the first time, to be honest. Growing up on the Frontier as a rancher's kid meant long days (and nights) in the saddle, chasing cattle. And long days on the front away from anything resembling a bed had caused the kind of fatigue that only sleeping in stirrups could cure. But this was something else. She was already upright, still cloaked to ward off chilly mornings but without the weight of the sword she was used to at her side. No mail on her either.

Aymeline blinked a few times, slowly, registering the clean taste of sunlight on a brisk morning. Her horse, Tanaya, trotted on past surprisingly intact homes clustering a satellite town off of Liotra, just outside the main gates. Nothing was burned. People were everywhere, more people in one place than she'd seen in a year. And ahead lay Liotra itself, its walls somehow miraculously intact.

It'd worked.

She looked down at her hands before tugging off a glove and marveling at the lack of battle scars. Glancing back up, Aymeline strained to remember...why was she here? When was she here? It took a second or two but a quick peek behind her confirmed the leather-bound courier case was strapped behind her saddle. This was the day she arrived in Liotra then, to deliver the demands of the Free Peoples of Veriteri to the King. A King she'd never actually laid eyes on. She'd been put off for the day, was told she had an appointment in two days time but he'd been dead by then...

He wasn't dead now, though. There was still time.

"Heeya!" With her heels to Tanaya's flanks, Aymeline coaxed more speed from her mare as the pair sped down the road towards the city.

~

If the trade town had felt claustrophobic, Liotra proper was panic-inducing. The sheer press of people, so many living people, was like a palpable presence. Aymeline found herself gasping slightly as she rode. It was impossible for them to actually breathe all the air up but it felt that way to her, like there was no air left in the world for her. Minute by minute, she passed by streets and lanes, cutting down alleys to avoid traffic and making marvelous time.

It should be impossible, of course. This was technically Aymeline's first time in Liotra. But she'd been here so many times. First, in planning to infiltrate the city, then sack it, then burn the remnants out, then retreating to remains when monsters came for her and those she led. Their last stand had been at the city square. Or a last stand, anyway. Would everyone meet up there?

Kharmin
Aymeline cut down another alley, only to find herself facing the backs of half a dozen thugs. Boys, really, but a decade of war had long since taught her that anyone could be deadly at any age when given the chance and an element of surprise. This time, she had surprise because they weren't waiting for her. Instead, they'd ringed a young brunette woman, battered and bruised and still rising to her hands and knees anyway. Aymeline smirked in appreciation. She could relate. She'd never known when to quit either.

Then her eyes went wide as she recognized that veil of blonde hair, the width of shoulders, a single blue eye sharp and deadly with focus despite the battering taken. Marie-Louise lacked the armor and weapons Aymeline remembered and that hair seemed shorter and darker but there was no mistaking the young woman. This hadn't happened last time. It'd be years before they were supposed to meet at all, and only then when they were on opposite sides.

Aymeline smirked as she remembered raising up a wall of rock to bury the Warrior beneath it. Marie-Louise had promptly zipped right out of the surprise avalanche's path and they'd fought their first, brutal fight. She hadn't looked nearly as bad then...or wouldn't have looked nearly as bad then? The whole concept of tenses became a confused mess when Aymeline tried to think about it, so she quit and focused instead on dealing with this.

"Hey boys, you might want to rethink that."

Aymeline's smirk turned self-reflective as she called out, well aware she'd had a frontier twang at this time and surprised not to hear much of it now. Still mounted on the back of her horse, the Frontier girl sat up straight as some of Marie-Louise's bullies turned to see who'd come up on them. The first thing Aymeline tried was to throw up a Earth Wall between them and their victim. Only...it wouldn't come. The memory was there but magic just wouldn't spark.

"Nice horse," one of the boys said. Definitely a local tough and not much younger than her. A couple of them eyed Tanaya warily but the others seemed a bit nervous. Time to take that shaken morale and turn it into a rout.

Aymeline spotted a bit of broken masonry from a crumbling wall and lifted it into the air with a single thought. Several of the toughs blanched immediately at the blatant display of magic. "She's a witch!" one muttered.

"A Magician," she corrected, though back in these days she wasn't good for much beyond moving rocks and drawing up water. The stone began to spin slowly, catching all of their attention as it bobbed with deadly intent. "You might run along, boys, before you really get hurt."

Five at once might be too much for her alone. Maybe. But she wasn't alone. And as she stared down the gang, her eyes flicked past them to the rising form of Marie-Louise.


Magic: 9/10

 

[xrakkax]

Moonlight shined in Julian's eyes when they fluttered open. Familiar shapes of his coat rack, trunk, mounted weapons, mismatched armor, and two piles of clothes in the corner defined his modest room. For a single blessed moment Julian thought he had surfaced from the depths of a nightmare found only in the wildest recesses of the mind. That breath of peace vanished, leaving him colder than the air seeping through his broken window. Tightening the blankets around him did little to improve his condition.

A cry from the room across from his own split through Julian’s heart. “Shae.” He whispered hoarsely, his throat wound tight. Julian stilled, listening. Silence. Frightened that this was the nightmare and that he would wake soon to a world where those he loved lived only in his memory, he sprang from his bed. Julian paid no mind to creeping quietly. His door and hers flew open with a bang. There he stood at the threshold, wearing wool pants and a thin nightshirt, panting and staring in awe at his eldest sibling Lori by Shae’s bedside. The yellow of the candlelight danced in her glaring green eyes.

“Julian!” Lori hissed, draping another blanket over Shae’s trembling body. “Shut the door. And stop making such noise!”

Julian closed the door gently, as if moving too quickly might disturb the spell and he would lose these precious moments. He faced them again, his back against the door. Lori padded Shae’s sweaty brow with a hot cloth. His sickly sisters cheeks flushed an unnatural red.

Scarlet Fever. Julian recalled when this happened.

Two lives went to Gaia that year. While they had all gotten it, it hit Shae the hardest. He remembered more now. Shae had wanted to venture with him through the woods for a game of hide and seek. He brushed her off. The expression of hurt in her eyes came clear to his mind. Stubborn pride ignored her repeated requests and painted her as a nuisance to him. That was why Shae had visited her friend across the town instead, and unknowingly brought home the fever to the family. Julian figured the tightness in his throat must be what was left of the illness for him. Shame washed through Julian as he recalled missing out on some gambling in the tavern, only hearing about the winnings from his friend days after they happened. Julian blamed Shae when she was awake enough to comprehend his scolding.

“Lori.” Julian made sure to keep his voice low. “Why don’t you go to bed. I’ll take a turn.” While it was true that Julian had bettered himself in many ways since the bandit attack, what with putting in effort to train and help around town, he knew maturity had been lacking in his youth. There was no reason not to expect it, but seeing Lori’s surprise plucked a chord of pain in his heart.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” Lori set the damp cloth onto a plate and swiveled on her stool to stand. Julian moved forward. Before she could step passed him he pulled her into a hug. The suddenness confused Lori. Her hesitant return of his embrace turned into a worried hold as she realized he was crying. “Julian? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.” His shoulders shook. “It’s just--” He knew he couldn’t say, and apart of him hated the imposed restriction of time-travel. “It’s all my fault. Shae never would have gone to visit across town if I hadn’t-- If I hadn’t turned her away--”

“Sh, sh. No, hush Ju-Ju-Bee.” Lori patted his back. “No one knew. It could have come this far no matter what had happened. Come now, why don’t you go back to bed?” She shifted to hold his arm that she might lead him.

Julian gently squeezed her hand. “No, I want to stay.” He sniffed back snot. “You do a lot for the family Lori.”

“You do a lot too, Jules.”

“Not like this.” He shook his head. Julian lead Lori instead. “Not like I should.” He walked Lori to her room. “I’ll make sure Shae has everything she needs if she comes out of her fever. And don’t worry about me.” He could tell it was a question in her mind. “Just have a good rest, okay?”

Lori didn’t know what got into Julian. Maybe it was the sickness? In any case, she had been up for so long. Weariness weighed her lids. “Alright. . .good night.”

Once Lori closed her door Julian spared no time in going back to Shae’s room. He made sure the water wasn’t tepid, that her brow was dappled dry when too wet, or padded with warm water to keep her chilled skin from freezing. Occasionally when Shae let out a cry of discomfort he gently rubbed the hand he held to calm her. Julian wavered from consciousness twice, but held on until dawn. All the while he ugly cried over his situation. Knowing how much he would want to stay, but how important it was to leave to Liotra.

Sunrise broke over the mountains on this the morning Shae’s fever finally did. Julian saw his closest siblings eyes brighten at the sight of him. Her voice like gravel, whispered, “Jules?”

“Hey Shae.” Julian smiled.

“Your eyes are so red and puffy.”

“Uh, allergies.” Julian wiped away a stray tear. “And I was worried about you. . .” He frowned. “Shae, I should’ve just played that old game with you. Maybe that wouldn’t have stopped all of us gettin’ sick, but I still should have, just for the reason that you’re my sister.”

“Am I still in a fever dream?” Shae quirked a weak smile.

Julian gave a breathy chuckle, “No, you heard me right.” He mussed her hair. “I’m glad you feel good enough to poke fun.” This was how it should have been, Julian reflected. He did his best not to dwell on the version of his past where Shae was left crying after his verbal lashing and spent the day hidden in her room without an appetite. “Are you hungry?”

“A little.” Shae nodded. “Do you have water?”

“Do I have water?” Julian meant that to be the rhetorical question just before he handed her a cup of fresh springwater, but he turned and found it empty. “Oh. No, I don’t.” Julian stood up with the wooden vessel in hand. “One moment.” He got to the door and looked back at Shae. She had shuffled to a sitting position, puffing her pillow for support. Julian made a mental note to keep these little moments in his memory before opening the door and closing it behind him.

Julian drew up water from the barrel in the kitchen. The house grew steadily louder as the others woke while he also grabbed a bread roll from the cabinet above the icebox. Just as he turned to exit his mother walked in with Jack, her kestrel, on her shoulder. Again his heart thumped painfully. Julian felt his nose sting and leak. His eyes swelled once more with tears. Was this going to happen for each of them? Julian noted the surprise and confusion on his mother's face. Quickly he said, “Shae’s fever broke! She’ll be alright!” That would have to be sufficient explanation. Then Julian hastily ran past while saying he’d catch up later.

One face after another brought forth a waterfall of emotion that Julian couldn’t control on his way to Shae’s room. By the time he entered, he was sobbing. Wordlessly he handed his worried sister her refreshments and went about clearing up the mess of clothes and such, all the while failing to keep his scrunched face from exposing the bottomless pit of unearned joy pouring from his eyes, and subsequently, his nose. If Shae had doubts about her brother’s love for her, they were swept away from her mind now. Julian insisted he was fine and encouraged her to eat while he did his best to control himself.

Shae finished her bread roll first. The water, she nursed slowly. “Julian, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Julian said quietly. He managed to get a hold on himself enough to wash his face with the remaining water in the wooden basin. Shae’s suspicious expression had him chuckling. “I know, I know, it doesn’t look like it, but. . .you’ll just have to trust me. I’m very happy, Shae. You’ll never know how much. Well, not unless I find the words to explain.” That was all he could say without giving away too much. “And. . .” It would be coming out soon anyway. “. . .I guess I am sad because I found out I have to go on a journey, starting today, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Liotra.” Julian answered, but didn’t satisfy her following questions of ‘What for?’, ‘Who with?’, and so on. Shae, ever curious, did not appreciate not understanding it all. In the end, Julian told her. “Just know I love you. All of you.” He got up and gave her a kiss on her forehead. “Do you want me to get Lori?”

A little grumpy, Shae nodded, “But tell her to bring fruit.”

“Will do.” Julian smiled. He looked and saw a sketch she had made of a chickadee; her favorite bird. He asked to keep it and she agreed. Once more Julian paused before he left her, just to get one last moment stowed in his mind, before doing as he promised.

Julian spent the morning preparing for the journey. Then he sat down and wrote out several letters with dates indicating when to open them. Once finished, he set aside all of his gear and selfishly took the afternoon with family. Julian accepted that the scar of his loss must have been too deep for even he to grasp and allowed his tears to flow when he felt it come over him. The confusion he caused both amused him and set a sorrow in his heart. At the end of each session he took a momento from that person; a kestrel feather in honor of his mother, one of his father's amethyst beads, Lori’s first hand-stitched handkerchief, Nereth’s old dagger, Nelwen’s favorite song, Cedric’s old silver chain, Vennek’s raven’s pin, and of course, he had Shae’s picture.

Finally Julian sensed the time had come. First he saddled his horse and hooked a small wagon with all of his stuff, including what he’d need for his sleepy owl, Skye, to the back of his old equine friend. Julian informed his family of his plans to travel to Liotra for an unknown time. Similar questions Shae had asked resulted in about the same responses when the others took their turn in interrogating him.

Frustrated, Cedric said, “Jules, something has happened.”

“Why can’t you tell us?” Vennek frowned. He held up the envelope addressed to him. “And what is this? Why do we need these then?”

Julian sighed, “You guys. . .” He cut his eyes away, coincidentally toward his destination. “What I have to do is important.” Julian looked back at them all, memorizing their clothes, the way they held themselves, the concern in their eyes. “And I do it because I love all of you. It’s just a long trip and back.”

“You don’t sound like you’re taking a trip.” Nelwen clutched her letter, now feeling her own eyes pricking with tears. “This sounds like a goodbye.” A trip to Liotra any other time might not have caused them alarm, but what with Julians crying and the suddenness of it sent red flags up in their minds.

The hesitancy to reply and the quiet uncertainty in his voice gave them no comfort, “Never goodbye. . .We’ll meet again.”

Their mother handed her letter to her husband and hugged her son. “Jules. If you don’t come back to us, I’ll hunt you down.”

A sad smile reached Julian’s blurry eyes. He breathed in the reassuring scent of a mother whose apron dried his tears and whose hands had healed many of his wounds, whose voice lulled him to sleep and who took on what pain of his she could. “I’ll do my best not to be difficult to track.”

Once Julian's mother let go his father wrapped an arm around him, “She won’t be alone.”

“I know.” Julian took the time to feel the strength in his father’s arm, the beat of a heart far more worthy of glory than even the Champions of Gaia that Julian knew.

Finally Julian loosed from him, from them. And without knowing if this would be the last time he beheld them, he mounted his horse with Skye asleep in his cage. Julian had business with a few people in Gloverton before heading to Liotra. Young Julian had an unhealthy obsession with a few boxing rings of ill repute. Epic adventures didn't come cheap, and he had a feelin' Lady Luck was coming to the ball with him tonight.


[Might: 10/10;]

@Enkerzed Lekiel @Severinus @Kharmin @SilverFeathers @Epiphany

 

[Kharmin]

The distraction was exactly what Marie-Louise needed. The stranger's voice was unintelligible in her current state, but that didn't matter. Bruised, but not beaten, Marie-Louise focused on the boy closest to her. Her muscles tensed as she steeled herself for what was to come.

As the woman on the horse spoke, Marie-Louise called upon her talent and, from her crouched position, launched herself at the boy. The speed that she had called upon never came but her action still caught him unaware. Her shoulder buried into his midsection and the two of them crumpled against the far alley wall in a tangle of limbs.

Marie-Louise extricated herself from the boy and threw an elbow against his temple. The boy's head snapped back and cracked against the slime covered bricks behind him and he slumped into unconsciousness.

In agony from her earlier abuse, Marie-Louise rose to her feet. She was unable to stand to her full height due to the injuries but her azure eye bored into her next target. She willed herself to endure; pain was but one aspect of victory.

Two of the boys turned their attention away from the newcomer when their cohort was felled. They charged Marie-Louise. One pulled a long knife from under his shirt and thrust it at her. Marie-Louise used her instincts and her flow talent answered the call, albeit without the usual flair and panache.

Marie-Louise stepped aside of the attack. The knife tore through her shirt but didn't cut her. As the knife passed her by, she slugged the unarmed boy with a vicious right hook to his jaw. He didn't have time to react or deflect the blow which spun him around. He lost his balance and fell to his knees. Without giving him a chance to recover, Marie-Louise snapped a kick to his head. The boy flipped in place and laid still.

Marie-Louise turned just in time to parry the knife with her arm, which took a nasty slice for her efforts. She paid the wound no mind – in her future self, she had ignored many such cuts – as she allowed the boy's attack to carry him past her. She stuck out her foot and tripped him. The knife skittered away in the muck of the alley and the two clawed at each other to prevent the other from recovering it. She grunted with the effort of fighting the boy and was disappointed to not only be in this present position, but not to have yet ended the melee. Her body just wouldn't respond to her martial tactics as she had expected it to.

"A little help here!" she called out to the mounted stranger. It was then that caught a glimpse of her rescuer in her long coat and wide-brimmed hat and noticed the floating, rotating brick. Could it be? she thought as she continued her struggle for the long knife. Ayme?

Memories flooded and threatened to take her focus from getting to the knife before her attacker. Their last encounter had ended in a draw, for which Marie-Louise had been grateful at the time for she hadn't been sure that she would have prevailed against the magician had she more tricks. That was before the woman had turned and put her talents to work fighting with the Champions rather than against them.

The boy grasped the knife first and Marie-Louise clamped a strong hand on his wrist in an effort to keep it pinned to the cobblestones. Somehow, it has to be her, she thought and she drilled deep to find her reserve strength to keep the knife at bay. If she could only hold out, then she knew her ally would finish the other two boys and then be able to assist her.

[Magic: 9/10]

Epiphany

 

[Epiphany]

Marie-Louise was already up, kicking ass and taking names before Aymeline managed to react. Not because of a lack of initiative but because of an overabundance of it. These thugs were kids, younger than even this younger Aymeline. But all of her instincts, all of her reflexes were hardwired to kill. She'd been going for the kill for so long, it literally overwhelmed her mind for a moment as she had to discard every single offensive stratagem her thoughts could conjure up.

"Look at her, she's scared!" jeered one of the thugs.

Beyond the stand-off with the two young men, Aymeline saw Marie-Louise take a knife to the arm. The sight of blood kicked her into motion in a way the prospect of non-lethal violence hadn't. With only a slight tightening of the eyes, the Magician made the rock wobble in mid-air. Both sets of male eyes shifted to it before flicking back to her, slow smiles on their faces as they moved on her. They thought it was a sign of weakness.

For Aymeline, it was a simple test of control. Back in these days, she'd never used her Rock Barrage ability for much more than killing wolves (and recreational target practice). She'd levitated a dozen stones or more but had only projected them in a straight line. Ten years of bloody warfare had made her so much more lethal with it, though, and she'd never had that kind of control. But was control a matter of skill or a matter of magic? A bit of both, as it turned out. For when she made the rock wobble, she also felt the shape of it, the limits of her precision. More than she'd been now, less than she'd someday be.

But enough for this.

"A little help here!" called out her ally. One thug put his hand on her saddle, the other reaching for her leg. So Aymeline smashed him in the face with the rock. Not hard enough to break his skull, only his nose, and a highly satisfying spray of red sluiced the side of the alleyway as he went down.

The other thug's mouth dropped open. He went for a knife. She went over her saddle, launched herself off her horse and bore him to the ground with an ease that almost felt familiar. When he hit filthy pavement, Aymeline hit with him and drove her knee into his stomach, using a combination of her descent and her weight to knock the breath right out of him. Gasping, his knife flashed in her face and she caught his wrist, twisted, and kicked the blade away with a heel before it even touched the ground.

Cocky. Too cocky. The thug landed a solid punch to her face while she was showing off and it rang Aymeline's bell but good for a moment, enough for him to shove her off. Her body was strong and quick, conditioned by a lifetime ranching on the Frontier range, and her mind put her into a roll that got her up on her feet before he did. The thug staggered slightly.

And Aymeline whipped her hand down towards the pavement, levitated the brick again and used it to slam his head between it and the nearby alley wall.

Then she spun in place and sent the brick sailing into the back of Marie-Louise's last thug.

A second later, it was over. Aymeline realized she was breathing hard. From this? This was nothing compared to the battles she'd been through. Yet an unpleasant ripple of pins and needles ran across her skin, her head felt light and high off the ground. Aymeline dropped her gaze, spotted the blood spatter of one of the thugs and promptly threw up her breakfast.

By the time that miserable consequence was done, Aymeline wiped her mouth with the back of her duster's sleeve and turned to face Marie-Lousie who'd doubtlessly climbed back to her feet like the indomitable, brass-plated bitch she'd been. Would be. Will have been?

Wincing at the paradox, Aymeline managed a smirk for the other woman and said, "You look like I feel. But then, I've never been in fight until now. Not with people, I mean. I remember...but I guess my body doesn't." The Magician winced again as she took in the extent of Marie-Louise's battered form before tossing her head back in Tanaya's direction. "Look, we can't stay here. Get over here so I can bandage you up and get you on my horse so we can leave before a local magistrate asks us questions we have no good way of answering."
Kharmin


Magic: 7/10

 

[Kharmin]

Marie-Louise scraped up the long knife as she stood slowly with fatigue from her injuries and the brief use of her flow talent. She was surprised that using her talent would have been so taxing when it appeared that Aymeline's magic worked without effort.

It was going to take some serious training to get her martial skills up to where her experience said that they should be. Of course, having been teleported through time in the middle of a fight in her past life probably wasn't the best choice. Her mistrust of magicians was reinforced yet again.

She regarded Aymeline with a skeptical eye. With things as they were now, in this time, were they on the same side or not? True, she had pitched in and helped to defeat these miscreants, but what now was the cost for her services? In Marie-Louise's experience, few magicians did anything for free.

"I look how you feel?" Marie-Louise responded. She raked her grime-covered, dirty-blonde hair back with the fingers of her weaponless hand which exposed the swollen eye, split lip and bruised visage to plain view. Then, she shrugged. "I've had worse, I'm sure." She chuckled. "Well, not yet anyway." So it seemed that the magician was a little drained from the encounter after all. Unless she were lying. Magicians were known to do that, too.

Maire-Louise took Aymeline's suggestion about leaving the scene and staggered toward her. She placed a hand on the alley wall for support and regarded the cut on her bicep. "Don't worry about it; it'll be fine," she said as she approached. "Let's get out of here."

[Magic: 9/10]

Epiphany

 

[Epiphany]

The righteous warrior was determined to tough it out?

Aymeline smirked a little at the sight of the battered woman's seeming indifference to her cut arm, or the rest of her injuries. Marie-Louise had been a hell of a warrior ten years from now but obviously not all of that made it back to now. Not that Aymeline herself was much better. She remembered the fighting moves she'd picked up or learned, more or less, but magically she wasn't up for much more than levitating rocks right now. And even that with some effort.

She paused as she stood by her horse, hand on the reins, turning her attention inward to the well of power she'd learned to feel. It took inexplicably longer to locate and there wasn't much of it. Aymeline still had a few more throws in her, maybe half a dozen or so, but that was a pitiful resource to work with. How the hell was she supposed to stop an assassination if she had trouble with a handful of street punks?

With help, obviously.

"I can't make you treat or cover up a wound that's going to draw attention to us or slow us down, today of all days." Aymeline stepped to the side, reins still in hand, causing Tanaya to sidle to the right and around to allow easy access to the saddle and stirrup. "But I'll be a Liotran farming on the prairie before I let you walk. People are going to think I beat my slaves or something and I'll never live that down back on the Veriteri Frontier."

The bitter twist on the young woman's face was familiar, in a way that face itself wasn't. The Aymeline that Marie-Louise had fought had longer hair, a broad scar across the ridge of her nose along with a number of other minor nicks that came with years of fighting without a good healer around. This Aymeline lacked the hard lines that'd settled around the corners of her eyes or the creases near her lips carving that freckled face into a permanent glower. Evidently, if you make a face long enough, it really will freeze that way. But it hadn't, yet.

"Come on, let me help you up so we can make the rally point."

Not that Marie-Louise would. The Warrior would doubtlessly ignore the offered hand and mount Tanaya herself. Of course the woman had been both resilient and self-reliant and it was just habit by now. Of course it had nothing to do with wanting nothing to do with a murderer. And Aymeline was under no illusions about that perception. For all that she'd fought with the Champions of Gaia in the end, not a one hadn't faced her on the other side at one point or another.

Maybe they could save the King and save the future. But there'd be no salvation for her. Truth was, Aymeline didn't even much mind.

Happy endings were for heroes.


Magic: 7/10

 

[Enkerzed]

Epiphany Kharmin

With a groan, one of the thugs picked himself off the ground and struggled to stand, but only managed a hunched hobble whilst holding a fist to his back where Aymeline had sent a brick flying into it earlier, knocking all the breath out of his body and shattering a rib or two. "Fucking witch! I'll fucking kill you!" he strained to shout as he looked around for his knife, eyes frantically darting about then widening in panic as he saw it in the hand of Marie-Louise.

Spitting a final curse, the youth turned and limped away as fast as he could without so much as a glance for his fallen companions. By the time he exited the alley, he had gathered enough strength to run and so he did, rushing pell-mell through the streets with a wince in every step.

Lekiel SilverFeathers

As Dunan approached the fountain looking for somewhere to sit, he saw a young blonde haired woman already there. A soldier of the city judging from her equipment, gazing at her own reflection in the water's surface. For a moment, Dunan briefly considered walking on past, not wanting to seem conspicuous by loitering around. It was not as though it were unusual for people to gather there at that particular spot, but at that moment, Dunan was all of a sudden too keenly aware of the stolen dagger tucked into his belt and the last thing he wanted right now was to be questioned about it. Just as he was about to make a wide berth around the fountain however, he caught a glimpse of the soldier's bow and saw that this was no ordinary weapon, nor its wielder an ordinary guardswoman.

It was a golden bow. The Golden Bow, Dunan realized and he looked again at the back of the woman's head, hair darker than he remembered it. His eyes now shining with recognition, he approached the woman and spoke her name... or so he intended to. What came out instead was a confused and meek voice that was his yet not at the same time, "W-who are you? What am I doing here?"

He did not realize it, but for the briefest of moments, a look of panic had flashed across his face before vanishing as suddenly as it appeared. Abashed from what he thought to be a slip of the tongue, Dunan lowered his eyes and muttered, "Wait, that wasn't what I meant to say."

Before he could say anything else however, he heard someone swearing loudly and turned to see a mean faced lad stumbling across the square after having bumped past an offended looking old man.

"Watch where yer goin'!" the elder shouted crankily.

The lad paid him nor anyone else any heed as he lurched his way towards the nearest guard post on the other side of the square. He did not even notice the blonde haired guardswoman in full uniform sitting by the fountain as he staggered past, so single-minded was his focus. Before long, he reached the street leading towards his destination and disappeared around the corner of a small building. 'The Twelfth Leaf' tavern, as named by the sign hanging above its door.

Wonder what that was about, Dunan thought before returning his focus to Solandis, the Golden Bow. A fellow Champion of Gaia.

Severinus

Still somewhat dazed about Solandis's behaviour earlier, the soldier named Coren had just taken over his friend's post when a dirty, grimy and clearly injured youth came stumbling in, doubling over in pain with a hand pressed against his back.

"Can I help you with something?" Coren said drolly as he waited for the lad to speak, expecting to hear him bemoaning himself as a victim in some brawl on the streets that he had probably started. The usual song and dance.

After enough panting and wheezing, slightly exaggerated for effect, the boy finally caught his breath and said, "Witch. Attacked. My friends."

"Witch? What... You mean a mage?"

"Yes!"

Oh damn, this is serious, Coren considered as he replied in a matter of fact tone, "Okay, I'm going to need some details."

After a few questions and pointed reminders for the lad to stay on topic, who did his best to dramatize the entire affair, the guardsman sent him on his way and then made all haste to contact the nearest royal mage. There was a chance the teenager might have been lying, but in a situation like this where an outsider mage had used her powers to assault people within the city, only another mage could get to the truth of the matter and deal with it appropriately. It was not a light accusation to make after all, so Coren had no choice but to treat it seriously.

When he reached the Office of Magi near the king's palace, he made his report to the clerk there and then promptly returned to his post now that his part in all this was done. With any luck, the whole situation would be resolved within the day. Though unfortunately for the mage who would have to resolve it, the timing could not be anymore inconvenient.

"Can't someone else do it?" Lourayley complained when she received the report. "Today is to be the day I see my family."

"Do you see anyone else around?" the clerk replied, as annoyed as the mage. "You're the only one who ever comes back this early from training. Either deal with it or don't, but I'm not going to take the blame for you not doing your job. That's on you."

"Fine, but I will do this quickly."

"You always do," the clerk muttered as Lourayley departed from the office, dressed in the full attire of a royal mage and on the hunt for an outsider mage with a wide brimmed hat, as well as her accomplice by the name of Marie-Louise who was apparently known to whoever reported the incident in the first place.

Of all days, Lourayley seethed as she thought of her brother, Olivoyr, who she had not seen in a year. Who would dare risk the wrath of a mage of Liotra?

Dunan has not used any abilities in this post. Mana is now 10/10.​

 

[SilverFeathers]

Althea Isa Lunerf | Phantom Mask
Just as the Magician spoke his last few words with an uncanny smile, immediately setting off warning signals in her mind, Althea's consciousness was thrown into a turbulent whirlpool of chaos. Her brain felt as if it was being ripped apart and condensed at the same time, whilst she was being forcibly pushed and pulled in a billion different directions. It felt as if someone was throwing her around like a ball in a game of catch, except her speed and sensitivity levels were through the roof. Just as she began numbing and adapting herself to the abrupt situation, she was flung into what felt like a brick wall reinforced with steel. She silently cursed the Magician with newfound hate as her consciousness quickly faded to nothingness.

Althea silently awoke in her new form, not moving an inch as she surveyed her surroundings with her eyes closed. The faint smell of succulent meat sizzling in a pan immediately confused her, wondering if this was a new illusionary ambush from the enemy. She couldn't even remember the last time such a mouth-watering smell existed within her encampment: they were forced to subside on carefully controlled rations ever since the farms and pantries were burnt to the ground. Thea couldn't help but grit her teeth at the temptation, wondering how the Trickster's lackeys gained this never before seen ability. The smell wafting in alongside the fresh scent of flowers faintly reminded her of something, of one of the things she had lost very early on in her lifetime of tragedy...

Immediately, Althea bolted upright at her realization. She couldn't believe it, that old deity's trick worked? She... was back? In utter disbelief, she felt around her environment and discovered that she was in a bedroom of some sort, presumably her own. The bed she lay in was awfully clean and soft, the stark opposite to the cramped and wrinkled cots she was used to. She would've used her other senses to guess her situation as per the norm, but for some reason, they weren't responding to her that well. It seemed her old body's limitations would take some getting used to, alongside some intense training.

Her hands trailed alongside the soft bedsheets, the familiar study desk and her little bookshelf. She could almost imagine her old room again, with the flowery curtains, little lantern hanging on the wall and the meticulously clean windowsill, with fresh flowers just resting in the box connected to it. These peaceful smells and sights used to greet her every morning a very long time ago. But now it only felt too good to be true. Suddenly, she realized that no matter how much she shook the thoughts away, the vision remained stationary in her mind. It was so eerily vivid, almost as if she could see again...

Finally, Althea broke down, losing the strong and calm front she had put up for herself. Tears streamed relentlessly from her eyes as she clawed and rubbed her eyes out, unwilling to believe in the miracle before her. Her bright grey-green eyes, filled with vitality and innocence, flushed red and swollen from her harmful actions. It was like a dream: she never remembered colours being this blinding nor such intricacies being so easily seen. For a while, she sat on the floor in wonder, appreciating the smallest things she never cared for in the past, like that one dent on the desk's corner, or the detailed yet delicate patterns running across her curtains.

She couldn't believe the scene before her, she refused to. So many of her comrades had perished before her eyes on the battlefield, with screams and the stench of blood ever-present in the air. Their sacrifices were definitely not just a bad dream. Clenching her fists, she strengthened her resolve to protect the current peace. She knew they didn't have much time, she had to find her allies as soon as possible. Although the king's death was announced a few days later, they had no proof it didn't happen earlier. Perhaps even today.

Immediately, she set to work rummaging through her wardrobe for a simple outfit to change into. Unfortunately, the delicate female from her past vastly enjoyed wearing dresses and pretty things, making her task a little difficult. Thea luckily managed to find a simple dark green tunic and leather breeches at the rear of a drawer. Although her other, more innocent self resisted at the back of her mind, she paid her no heed and quickly slipped out of her nightgown into her new clothes. They were a little tight, restraining her movements slightly, obviously having been abandoned at the back of her wardrobe for a while. She frowned at her body's weakness, somehow being restricted by such a thin layer of cloth. She had a lot of training to do in order to reach even a tenth of her future self's abilities.

Pulling on a dark grey cloak, seemingly more suited for winter wear than unscrupulous activity, she silently pondered how she'd get her teammates to recognise her. It'd be way too strange to wander around in her namesake, a mask, during these peaceful times: drawing attention to herself was what she wanted to prevent the most. In the future, it wasn't too bad considering injuries and scars were very common, hence wearing a mask to cover such wounds wasn't too weird.

As she pondered this, a faint memory surfaced in her mind, of one of the initial reasons why she began wearing masks. Enlightened, she hurried over to her bedside drawer and took out an old masquerade mask, deeply buried beneath letters and other ornaments. It was silver, with little flowers and leaves spiralling around the eyes in a delicate yet elegant fashion. She was lucky her past self wasn't too much of an idiot, buying one of those brightly coloured, attention-seeking masks for a mere party. Back then she treasured the fact that she was even invited to a masquerade ball: she faintly remembered repeatedly thanking Lilian, a noble's daughter, for inviting her along. Although the mask was nowhere near as useful or sturdy as the mask she used as her future persona, it would have to do for now. Thea tied the little mask around her belt straps letting it dangle slightly from her waist, faintly hidden from sight by the edge of her cloak. Her comrades were all powerful Champions of Gaia: she trusted that they'd be able to recognise her using this method.

Quietly, she left her room and dashed up the stairs towards her parents' bedroom. Owning a business naturally meant defending against thieves and burglars seeking to profit off another's good fortune, like herself. In a hidden compartment by the side of the bed, she fished out a deadly dagger and hid it in one of the empty pockets of her belt. She hoped her parents wouldn't hate her too much for 'borrowing' this for a bit. Whilst making her way outside of the little house connected to their family tavern, she swiped a few sharp knives from the kitchen, carefully avoiding her mother who was cooking breakfast and humming a jovial little tune. The sight of her violent but loving mother instantly made her heart bleed and eyes redden, but she couldn't afford a confrontation with her family yet. She knew very well her resolve may weaken and crumble against the people she had longed to see for a decade, hence she had avoided every single one of her family members carefully, planning to disappear without a trace, no matter how much they may hate her afterwards. Silently, she embedded their warm and happy appearances deeply into her mind, before exiting out of the tavern's back door.

Walking a short distance towards the city square, she found a familiar figure almost instantly. Her appearance hadn't changed much at all, apart from her hair colour and absence of battle scars, somewhat making her smile. The tall warrior even had the same weapons from ten years in the future. Once a knight, always a knight. She thought silently, as she watched another messy character approaching the old warrior. After squinting a bit at the new figure, a fellow trickster no less, her smile widened, immediately wanting to poke fun at the bare-faced youth. Suppressing her urges, she approached her comrades with a restrained playful smile on her face. Her other confused self was screaming in her mind, in awe at the grand appearance of a noble warrior whilst being disgusted by the messy stable boy covered in horse dung. She stood in front of the pair quietly for a few moments, trying to suppress the idiot in her mind. "Long time no see!" She squeezed out warmly with a slight wave, whilst discreetly allowing the mask on her waist to sway from side to side.

Inwardly, she was incredibly shocked at the friendliness in her tone. She knew full well her future self was incapable of showing such warm emotions, meaning that this was due to the influence of her younger, more naive self. She remembered the warning the Magician gave about their past selves not understanding their objectives, but she thought for sure that she'd be able to suppress the naive girl of the past. It seemed that adjusting to this would be more difficult than she thought.

Mana: 10/10

Enkerzed Lekiel

 

[Kharmin]

Marie-Louise listened to Aymeline as she neared the woman and her horse. "If anything draws attention to me, it certainly won't be this scratch." She indicated her visage with the elaborate bruising and her hair and the rest of her body caked in alley-muck. "I already look a fright, I'm sure."

She turned as the boy swore and cursed at Aymeline. Inward, Marie-Louise smirked. She'd heard much worse from soldiers in the field, usually just before she impaled them on her sword. This lad was still young and inexperienced in such matters. Marie-Louise shook her head in disdain as he hobbled away from them.

She held the knife in her off-hand and accepted Aymeline's assistance in pulling herself astride of the horse. It was not the most graceful of mountings, but then with the pain that lanced through her from the beating, Marie-Louise was grateful to be sitting and not having to move.

Rally point? She thought as Aymeline's words echoed further into the more coherent portion of her mind. "Oh, right," she said and didn't fight to hide the fatigue in her voice. "In all of the ... excitement, I had forgotten what we're here for."

"Um... exactly what are we here for?"



[Since the scene hasn't fully completed yet, I'm keeping her Magic: 9/10]

Epiphany

 

[Epiphany]

The way Marie-Louise, the Knight herself, casually dismissed a brutal beating brougth a smile to Aymeline’s face. “You’ve looked better, Marie-Louise. But you’ve looked worse too.”

Then the “Fucking witch!” remark turned the aforementioned witch’s head and she just gazed impassively at the bloodied, beaten thug. When he turned to run, a smile came back to Aymeline’s face. “Smartest thing he’s done all day,” was her parting remark.

Helping Marie-Louise into the saddle, Aymeline fetched a length of rope and tied a lead to Tanaya so she could lead her horse through the city’s crowds. Then she moved them out, concentrating on forward motion instead of the limp, bloodied bodies she’d left behind in the alley. Enough forward motion might dispel the lingering sick in her stomach, the clammy sweat on her palms or the pallor in her cheeks.

I didn’t even kill them. I’m better than this sick child I’ve become again.

Or maybe this is my chance to reclaim some of the innocence I threw away so long ago.

As they walked onto the main thoroughfare, Aymeline considered Marie-Louise’s question. It took her a minute to respond to it. “It’s fuzzier than I expected it to be. But I remember how it all starts. It starts with the King. Something’s going to happen to him. And we’re going to...hope someone remembers more than I do. Otherwise, we’re going to have to get into that castle and...I don’t know, try to find his killer? Stop them before the guards stop us?”

Ahead, Aymeline spotted the town square. And several suspicious sorts lingering about. Her allies? Would she even recognize them? Or they her?


Magic: 8/10

 

[Severinus]

As Olivoyr stepped outside the inn and passed around the first street corner, he started to regret his plan. He could barely jump out of the way, when someone emptied a chamber pot into the street without even looking down. The street was already bustling with townspeople and he was just pushed along, before getting a proper sense of orientation in which direction to get to the Mages' Academy. Only when he finally managed to get out of the pushing throng of humans, carts, horses, donkeys and oxens who aimed for the main city gate which had opened not too long ago after being closed for the night or from the city gate in the direction of the main market place, could he finally breath out in relief.

Learning from this experience, he stayed off the larger streets and kept to smaller side streets where at least he could walk more freely. The problem with those labyrinthine alleyways was that neither his younger nor his older self knew the city well enough to navigate through them precisely. Within a few more minutes, the young man realized that he had absolutely no idea in which direction to continue towards the academy. The previous advantage of having hardly any people around became a disadvantage now, as there was noone to ask for directions.

Sighing in regret, Olivoyr decided to return to the larger street or at least the closest one with a workshop, shop or tavern where he could find someone to ask for directions. The noise on the busy street gave him a good indication of the general direction, even though he was lost in the labyrinth of small alleyways and blind alleys. Loud hammering and a sign indicating a smithy in one of the grimy side streets caught his attention. He knocked on the door and waited, until realistion dawned him that knocking would not be heard with the constant noise from the hammer. When he wished to correct his first mistake a few moments later by opening the workshop's door, he noticed a movement close-by out of the corner of his eyes. While his younger self wondered what that was and thought of a rat or alley cat, his older more experienced self chided himself for the lack of attention he had paid to the local populace.

As he whirled around, the little pickpocket was already darting off toward the end of the street. Feeling at his belt that his hunting knife had been taken, he instinctively darted after the thief. A deep rage seemed to take over his mind. This was the knife his father had gifted him for his sixteenth birthday, the knife which had accompanied him all his previous life until the very last battle, until the Magician sent them back here. This knife had been his reminder of his family in this past life which seemed like a nightmare to his younger self. When they had all been dead already, this knife was the lasting connection – also between his old and new life. Losing this knife was not an option.

Although the young pickpocket knew the city better than Olivoyr did, the youth had te advantage of age, as the boy who had stolen his kinfe could not be older than 10 years. Jumping garbage heaps he closed the gap between him and the thief with every leap. When the boy turned around yet another corner, Olivoyr shouted: „Give this back! Please!“ As the son of a game keeper rounded the corner himself a split second later, he just caught a glimpse of a dirty shirt sleeve and skinny hand passing over a small wall. If that kid could scale this wall, so could he. For sure, he would not give up his father's present. Olivoyr had climbed the wall so quickly that he jumped down on the other side, before he had fully become aware of the situation.

„Like a fool you ran into a trap“, his older more battle hardened self chided his younger self mentally, while the teenager looked from one knife to the next, all four held by children a little younger than himself and all of them pointed at him. „Turn yourself into a fearsome beast and attack the thief“, a ruthless part of himself suggested driven by the pain from the loss of his beloved keepsake. I cannot change in front of people and hurting someone would be a sin! His younger self was horrified at the mere idea and confused where these darker and more violent tendencies originated from. But one thing was true: unless he turned into something, anything more competent at melee fighting than Olivoyr was himself at that time, getting back his memorabilia would be the least of his worries.

The children threatening him at knife point had not moved yet, as his older self seized control over his thoughts violently and desparately. This Olivoyr had used his abilities granted by the Trickster more than once, even against other humans – for the greater good. This Olivoyr decided that he would turn into a wolf along with clothes and everything – that form should be familiar enough for his younger self that nothing could go wrong. After years of experience with his ability he had been able to change not just his body itself, but his worn equipment along with it. In wolf form, he should be able to make short work of those children and regain his father's knife.

But as soon as Olivoyr focused on the change of his body, he noticed that the shift of his shape did not happen as he had intended. His younger self had no grasp of how to merge his clothes with his hair into a thick fur coat. As his older self tried to direct his younger, inexperienced self, Olivoyr became more and more confused by the two struggling personalities and lost focus, until he stopped the shift in the middle of the changing process. The result was a grotesque looking creature with wolfish ears and a snout with pointed canine fangs merged into a human head. His fingers had turned crooked and clawed and the hair on his hands and neck much thicker like a fur.

The gang of pickpockets was frozen in shock and horror. A full tranformation into a wolf could not possibly have shocked them more. The smell of fear and urine could be picked up by his sensitive wolf nose. As he wanted to demand his knife back a second, a vicious snarl escaped driven by the deep rage which still burned deep inside him. Werewolf!“, one of the kids on the semicircle shouted and courageously leapt forwars to stab towards him with his knife, scratching his arm. Driven forward by the pain induced rage and this darker part of himself which he had not known before, he leapt toward the one which dared to threaten him with his own knife. Clawed fingers grabbed the boy's arm leaving bloody scratch marks, as the pickpocket cried out in pain and horror. Without struggle, he collapsed to his knees and begged for his naked life, while his companions fled in terror of the beast.

The child's sobs seemed to bring Olivoyr back to his senses. Horrified at himself, he changed back into his own self. The changing process was a hard one to reverse as this shape had not been his intended one. What was wrong with him to turn into a monster and attack children? Was his mother right all along that he would fall prey to the darkness of the trickster's way? No! He was supposed to save this world and Lourayley in the name of the Magician, another part of himself. How was a monster like him supposed to save anyone?

Remembering his own humanity inspite of his desperation, the Olivoyr made a conscious effort to focus on the situation at hand. Crouching down in front of the sobbing child whose arm was still in his grasp Olivoyr muttered softly: „Forgive me. I didn't mean to harm. I just wanted my knife back.“ With tears in his eyes, he struggled for words. „It's a present from my father – to remind me of him when he is gone. Please. Give it back.“ Without a word or even loking at him the boy dropped the knife and held his breath waiting, hoping that Olivoyr would let him go.

For a moment his older, more rational self took hold of the situation again. „You and your friends will not tell anybody about what happened today and you will not come after me!“ The words might have sounded intimidating, if his older self had spoken them gruffly. From the young Olivoyr who choked on his own tears, they sounded just strangely out of place. As he let go of the boy's arm, the child was too wary to move at first, before turning around and darting off towards a side street.

Olivoyr required some more time to come to terms with his internal struggle, the shock about his ruthless other self's monstrous intent, his loss of finesse in using his abilities. Tears welled up in his eyes again as a memory surfaced that he had already fought this internal struggle before. The last time when he had lost his innocence, he had also cried and prayed. What had happened after had changed his life forever and was so painful that his older self did not want to remember and his younger self was only overwhelmed by the feelings of guilt, grief and remorse. But he did remember the person this memory revolved around: Lourayley.

Flinching, as if he had been struck by a whip, the realisation hit him. He was wasting his time, while he should go to Lourayley and get his wise and intelligent sister's advice on how to proceed. Jumping to his feet, his mind focused on his task more intently now. He followed the noise of people to get to the biggest street or market place nearby. From there on he would be able to ask for the way to the Mages' Academy.




Olivoyr used Shapeshifting Magic: 9/10

 

[Lekiel]

The lines of crows feet had smoothened out from under her eyes, as did the scars on her face from cuts so dreadful even her resilience couldn't prevent it. But oh how wonderful it was to see that Aurelian locks of shimmering wheat crowning her head again! Solandis would unabashedly admit that she could be a little vain sometimes. It'd started all those years back when she spied the older girls at the temple playing with flower paints and marking their eyes. Growing up alone with an austere yet kindly smith had been more than enough for her, but the lack of another female interaction from a young age served to only deepen her curiosity for the finer yet comparatively superfluous arts. In fact, as she grew older, the old man had begun to encourage it. She suspected he had begun to worry that his daughter would never find a partner.

But it was a worry that she did not really share, as her duty had taken precedence over everything else. The soldier's image reflected in the fountain's waters bit at her bottom lip. Her thoughts floating on a reverie, crossing leagues out into the quaint old dale. Crackle of embers and hiss of cooling metal teased at her ears. Her father would be up by now, firing up the forge for a day's work again.

"W-who are you? What am I doing here?" A shy voice shattered her stupor like the cry of a Morningcrow.

Solandis whipped her head around in her surprise, her hands surreptitiously straightening her raiment and tucking her hair back into place before she even realized who had spoken. And when she did, her sharp gaze caught the brief flash of panic that played across the youth's face as he faced her. It was almost akin to the mask a guilty person would wear. Something within her latched onto that expression with the alertness of an enthusiastic guardsman. But Solandis reigned herself in before she could pounce on the hapless individual for questioning. A confused look unwittingly flashed across her face as it was her turn to appear disorientated.

"Wait, that wasn't what I meant to say." The boy was muttering to an open-mouthed Solandis.

Why did she just suddenly feel like someone was wrestling control over her own body? And why did this guy look almost frightened to see her when he was the one who approached? Who was he? Some random person? They stood awkwardly for seconds that lasted far too long before the boy's attention was caught by a kerfuffle off to the side; she, however, continued staring. It was then that it struck her. He might look much younger now. Barely older than what would be considered a child even. But one thing never changed.

His eyes. Those windows that shone into the soul would never lie.

"The Trickster with the heart of a warrior." Solandis beamed, relieved to finally come across someone she knew. From her time at least. She clasped at his arm with a firm grip, her eyes appraising his ruddy appearance. He'd always been covered in crap. Amusing as that thought was, being covered in actual crap was vastly better than the lifeblood of friends and dreaded foe. Her lips pressed into a sober smile.

"You look... young, Dunan." She appraised him, using his actual name.

"Long time no see!" As if a ball had been set rolling, another greeting called out for their attention.

Solandis swung her gaze over and beheld a young woman with bright emerald eyes garbed in a dark grey winter cloak. A masquerader's mask hung on her belt as she approached them in a rather relaxed stance like how a long time companion would.

Problem was, Solandis could not place her face for the life of her. Even her eyes... no, it wasn't quite the same.

"I... well met..." Her voice faltered, though she kept up her friendly facade. She wasn't quite sure what to make of this new development. Having just identified Dunan, she felt certain that the girl would be a fellow champion. But while several items did fit the bill to a particular individual, a few other distinctions were just too large to ignore. Solandis decided at that moment that she'd rather not call out to the wrong person. A case of mistaken identities would be the least of her worries as she quickly remembered why they were here. Who knew how far back the Trickster had been planning? For all she knew they could be already surrounded by his agents of darkness.

Magic: 10/10
SilverFeathers Enkerzed

 

[Enkerzed]

Severinus

Marching down the street with determined steps, Lourayley made her way towards the location of the reported assault and reviewed the details in her mind. If the report was to be believed, the assailant was at the very least capable of manipulating earth and her accomplice, this Marie-Louise, was armed with a knife. Whether she also possessed abilities was as yet undetermined, but there was no doubt in Lourayley's mind that the outsider mage would prove to be the greater threat.

Admittedly, the royal mage had little experience in real life combat. In cases like this, a simple display of power along with a squad of guardsmen was usually more than enough to subdue miscreants, but if it came to blows then Lourayley was uncertain whether she would emerge unscathed. Still, she was no novice anymore and at some point or other, she would have to stand on her own two feet without relying on others. This was as good a chance as any other. Now was the time to put all her training to use and prove that it was not for nothing that she had been the top of her class at the Academy.

In the midst of her thoughts, a group of youths came rushing past from a dark alley and for a moment, Lourayley thought of accosting them, demanding to know why they were running about. The reason however became quite clear when she saw the glint of blades within their hands. No doubt they were some street gang fleeing the scene of a recent escapade. With contemptuous ease, the royal mage gestured towards them and lifted the cobblestones beneath their feet so that each one, all three of them, went sprawling onto the ground. Burying their feet and pinning them down with the very cobbles used to trip them over, Lourayley called out imperiously to surrounding bystanders, "Tie them in bonds and send for the watch. I've another matter to attend to."

Without further ado, she proceeded onward towards her quarry. Had she been in just the next street over, she would have heard a wolf like snarl emitting from the alley where the armed youths came running from. As it was however, Lourayley heard no such noise and thus went unhindered.

SilverFeathers Kharmin Epiphany Lekiel

​

Dunan returned a warm smile as Solandis clasped his arm, but before he could respond, a cheerful greeting caught his attention and he turned to see a girl in a grey cloak rushing to join them. As Solandis spoke, Dunan caught the hesitation in her voice and for a moment he too was wary, but then he noticed the mask hanging from the girl's waist.

"Althea," he said simply without reservation. There was only one person he knew of to have a fondness of masks and that was Althea Isa Lunerf. Otherwise known as the Phantom Mask. Ruthless assassin, master of infiltration and nothing like the girl standing before him now, but perhaps there was an explanation for this.

"You seem different and not just the way you look. Is this a side effect of the time spell?" he wondered out loud, furrowing his brow as he considered the Magician's warning. All of a sudden, what he thought to be a slip of the tongue earlier took on a more concerning dimension. In that briefest of moments, had that been his younger self seizing control of his body? Had he... they been struggling for control since back at the stable? Perhaps this was still happening even now.

Deeply disturbed by the thought, Dunan rubbed his head in frustration and realized he was feeling the beginnings of a headache. "None of this seems real," he said as he kneaded a palm against his temple. "It's like at any moment we'll wake up and this would have all been a dream... but, at the very least, I'm glad to see you two."

Or four, he thought as he saw two figures approaching the square, one sitting astride a horse and the other leading it with a rope. There was something different about them from every other passerby in the city, especially the one wearing a wide brimmed hat. Fellow Champions perhaps?

Lorayley has used Rock Barrage. Mana is now 9/10.​

 

[Epiphany]

Enkerzed Lekiel SilverFeathers Kharmin
xrakkax

The wide-brimmed hat was tilted down, to shield Aymeline’s face from the sun and to shadow her expression from casual notice. She wasn’t in a good mood but then she hadn’t been in a good mood for years. All these people weren’t helping. Yet, despite the irritation of pushing through crowds, Aymeline couldn’t entirely ignore the way her heart beat faster at the sight of so much life.

Liotran lives.

Even so.

Once she’d walked her horse and her partner into the city square, Aymeline chanced a look up. At first, the faces didn’t quite register anymore than Marie-Louise’s had. But most everyone else here had business, were passing through to get somewhere or were a few kids playing or chasing things. It wasn’t particularly difficult to spy the trio of young men and women who didn’t have somewhere else to be.

From there, it was only a matter of a minute’s gaze to figure out who they were, who they must be.

“Dunan,” Aymeline said, naming the young man as if confirming rather than knowing him. “Solandis. And…” her eyes dipped low to the mask on a young woman’s waist before smirking. “Althea.”

They weren’t friends. They’d barely been allies a decade hence. Not when a decade of war lay between them, not when she’d fought for the Trickster until nearly the very end. But this younger, less blemished Aymeline’s smirk unexpectedly turned into something warmer and more genuine.

“So it wasn’t a dream. There’s still a chance.” She spoke to herself as much as to them. Then her indistinct eyes focused once more. “It’s Aymeline. Just Aymeline now, or call me Amy. I’m sure you know Marie-Louise, who had a bit of a scape getting here.” An understatement probably, given the battering the mounted Warrior had taken.

Aymeline looked little more than a frontier girl from out of town, leading one of the famed Veriteri horses. But despite the friendliness of her greeting, there was little mistaking the cold in her golden eyes as she continued.

“So, while we wait for the rest of us to rally, who remembers what? Do we have a plan yet?”


Rock Barrage: 8/10

 

[Enkerzed]

Epiphany Kharmin

Dunan nodded in acknowledgement towards Marie-Louise before returning his attention to Aymeline and replying, "I think that is the plan at the moment, see who else will join us. Though I'm not sure how long we should wait."

Truth be told, he had always been somewhat afraid of the mage. She had a dark reputation long before becoming a Champion of Gaia and among the refugees who fled the wars following the king's death, including Dunan himself, there were many who were forced to live such a way as a direct result of Aymeline's actions. No doubt to her own people, she seemed a hero, but to the citizens of Liotra she was only a villain. A maker of widows and destroyer of homes. The Witch of the West, some called her. A well hated name.

Of course, things changed when the Trickster played his hand and years of grinding warfare between nations became a desperate last stand against the monsters of myth and legend. In the face of such a nightmarish existence, all the death and destruction wrought by Aymeline's hands seemed a petty thing and even she became a welcome addition to the ever dwindling strength of humanity. Even so however, Dunan could not think of her as a friend. An ally perhaps, but no more than that.

Still, for better or worse, she was here. Along with the rest of the few who were lucky or strong enough to survive until now. There were too many who could not. Surely some of them were in the city at this very moment, alive and unaware of the terrible battles they would fight in a future yet to be. That would never be if Dunan could help it.

With thoughts of the future past, Dunan remembered that he still did not even know where he was in the present and so he asked, "How much time do we have anyway, does anyone know?"

 

[Kharmin]

Things had started to come clearer to Marie-Louise now that she was able to take the time to look around and consider her current situation from the back of Amyline's horse. Tall, stone structures scrambled over each other as they reached toward the soft, white rolling clouds above. The buildings acted as sentinels to the denizens that were entrapped in their midst and gifted only those in the higher, open windows with a fresher air. On the streets, Marie-Louise had a more personal relationship with the stench of the many pressed bodies that undulated around her and her escort.

Liotra, Marie-Louise concluded. So, the city still lived – or yet lived as it seemed that the spell to send her and the other champions back in time had worked. The buzzing in her head had begun to subside and with it more coherence emerged.

She took her eyes away from Amyline's back and looked around them with a more critical eye. Much of the activity that surrounded them was reminiscent of her days in the city prior to the fall. We have time, she thought, but how much?

"Thank you," she finally managed to say to Amyline. She didn't really expect a reply from the magician – they were above such mundane proclivities; however, that didn't mean that Marie-Louise couldn't be civil. Amyline had stepped in and saved her from an untimely end.

Her gaze panned around them as she sought out the potential threats to their tour through the streets. It seemed that some old habits remained regardless of her failure to actually flow through her opponents earlier. Perhaps, in time, her memory of her talent would return in full which assumed that they actually had time.

She studied the people gathered in the square as Amyline guided her and the horse toward them. Marie-Louise knew that she should recall them, but like her they appeared younger that when she had met them. Some features were familiar and became clearer to her as her companion called out and named them.

Marie-Louise took the opportunity to slide down from the saddle when Amyline mentioned her name. The move was clumsy and Marie-Louise almost fell to the ground had she not maintained her grip on the saddle. Of all of them gathered, she appeared to have born the worst of the experience thus far.

"I don't know about any plan, but I could use a drink," Marie-Louise said in response to Amyline.



[Magic 10/10]

 

[Epiphany]

Dunan's suggestion that they wait to see who else arrived made eminent, practical sense. Aymeline settled against a nearby wall, post or well to wait.

And within a minute regretted it. Patience was never her strong suit. The notion of killing time with a bunch of Liotran patrioits was not remotely how she wanted to spend the next hour. But her other option was to spend time around, well, more Liotrans so damned if you do, damned if you don't. Besides, it was unlikely the heroes here were all that eager to spend time with her either. They were allies now but too much blood lay between them to be more than that.

Enkerzed
The young man with the golden eyes asked a rather good question, though, and Aymeline flashed him a brief smile to show her appreciation. "I woke up outside of Liotra this morning. As memory serves, I went up to the castle today to present a list of demands from the Free Lands of the Veriteri Frontier to the king. His court officials put me off and I spent a day or two cooling my heels in the castle before I woke up a couple of days from now being told the king had been assassinated."

"The short answer is a couple of days. Maybe it happens tomorrow, maybe the day after. Pretty sure it doesn't happen today, though."

Kharmin
At Marie-Louise's suggestion, the cowgirl with the cowboy hat chuckled and brushed a little road dust off her duster. "Best idea you've ever had," the Witch of the West said. "I think I see a tavern over there. What say we get a beer? Kicking the asses of a bunch of punks always gives me a thirst, anyway. Hell, it's on me. You coming, Dunan? Anyone else?"


Rock Barrage: 9/10

 

[Lekiel]

"Althea?" Solandis repeated in wonder when Dunan identified the infiltrator.

She turned towards the person in question, a tinge of wonder brightening up her fair face. "But your eyes-?" There was no doubt that the Phantom Mask who stood before them had full visual capabilities. It was the only reason why she hadn't put two and two together, despite how familiar the blonde woman looked. It was not unbelievable of course. Quite clearly whatever had caused the woman to be blinded by the time they'd gotten acquainted was not something so far in the past. Clearly their journey back in time had some perks; possibilities more like. The ramifications of which made her head hurt and the warrior stifled her errant imagination before it went too far. They'd come back for one purpose, they'd best focus on it.

"It's good to have you both." She offered a smile to the mask totting woman and Dunan in turn.

As if on cue, two other familiar faces turned up at the square. A woman with a broad-brimmed hat leading a horse upon which another sat. She recognized them by sight not a moment later, and the names offered filled in whatever gaps to bring back the appropriate memories. The tanned brunette was the first to speak and Solandis nodded cordially when she was greeted.

"Aymeline." There was no break in demeanour as the warrior named the mage, though her amber eyes glittered as honed metal at the one who was the cause of many of the refugees she herself had saved. Solandis was not one to hold grudges and deep down, the purity of her soul still remained untainted such that she could not bring herself to hate the mage. It was the reason why she'd left the guard so early on in the civil war. Any leftover resentment had been eradicated that the first day she knew Aymeline had joined them in their fight to save the land. But that didn't mean they were best pals.

She watched the rest of the interactions with interest, but could not offer much to the conversation herself. How far back had they gone? She woke up on guard duty within the walls of Liotra and given the current weather, the best she could come up with was that the King would be assassinated any day from now till a couple of months later. The warrior was about to speak when the Veriterian put forward a much better estimation.

"I think heading to a tavern or any place to discuss our next course of action is a suitable idea. If Aymeline's estimation is right, we cannot tarry any longer. Anyone who comes after will just have to keep up... We also need to do something about your face Marie." Solandis chuckled good-naturedly. A fellow warrior was always a welcome sight and though they hadn't the chance to know each other personally, having fought and bled literally side-by-side on the same patch of ground made for quite a special camaraderie.

"You look better than I last saw you." The irony of her jest was that it was likely the truth. Fighting on the front was never kind. Solandis handed over a rag from her pouch so that Marie-Louise could at least clean a bit of the grime and blood.

Magic: 10/10
Epiphany Kharmin Enkerzed SilverFeathers

 

[Enkerzed]

Kharmin Epiphany Lekiel SilverFeathers

Two days.

Dunan was shocked to learn how little time they had. If there were any other Champions not already within or near the city of Liotra, then they would be too far away and too late to affect anything. As it was, there was already too little time to plan and prepare for the king's assassination. Could the Magician not have sent them further back in time?

"That's not enough," Dunan muttered under his breath.

Broken out of his reverie by Solandis's bantering, he watched as the Warrior offered a rag to Marie-Louise and was shocked again to realize that he had thought absolutely nothing at all of the state she and Aymeline were in. He had been so used to seeing his comrades in various states of dishevelment that it hardly registered as abnormal at all. Reminding himself that they were now in the past and 'a bit of a scape' no longer meant an encounter with a patrol of ogres or demons, Dunan asked, "Just what happened? You didn't use your powers to fight, did you?"

Catching the sideways glance of a passerby, he immediately regretted speaking and continued in a hushed voice, "Let's just go find a tavern. The bigger the better, I think."

Scanning the streets for just such a place, Dunan's eyes briefly alighted on 'The Twelfth Leaf' before passing it over in favor of a larger establishment marked as 'The Last Stop'. It was a two storey affair with whitewashed walls and a stone chimney, much like any other drinking den in the city, but more importantly to Dunan it was one he had never been to before. One where he would hopefully not be recognized by anyone, such as the stable master who might be wondering where he was right now, or the owner of the dagger currently in his possession.

"How about that one?" he said as he pointed it out to his companions. "We might also want to think about how to let others know where to find us. A message or something like that."

 

[Kharmin]

Marie-Louise nodded her thanks to Solandis as she accepted the scrap of cloth. With visible effort, and a grunt, she knelt beside the fountain, leaned over the edge and plunged her head into the water. She scrubbed her face and hair for a moment before she came back up for air. She wrung out her hair and then used the rag to wipe the rest of the grime and water from her face and neck. The result of her ablutions had an immediate effect on her demeanor and her non-swollen eye sparkled anew in its more typical azure hue.

She cleaned the rag in the fountain as she listened to the talk around her before she twisted the water from it and handed it back to Solandis. "Thanks," she said with renewed vigor in her voice. "I'm not sure that I would even recognize myself at this point." She chuckled.

She glanced in Dunan's direction. "If I had any powers to use, I wouldn't have ended up in this condition," Marie-Louise stated as if it were an undisputed fact. "Not that it wasn't for lack of effort," she added. "I ... well, I wanted to. Let's just say that the results of the attempt didn't help my situation. Something is definitely not right with that. It's as if the knowledge is there, but its waiting for the actual ability to catch up."

Marie-Louise followed Dunan's hand as he pointed out the tavern. "I have no objection other than the fact that I didn't bring anything back to this time with me." She showed the long-knife that she had taken from the bullies in the alley before she secured it at the small of her back with her belt. She allowed her shirt-tail to cover the weapon. "Figured I'd need it more than its previous owner," she said with a smirk.

She nodded toward the Last Stop. "So, do any of you have any money?"


[Magic: 10/10]

 

[Epiphany]

Lekiel
The golden-haired girl with the golden bow looked no less impressive in the past than she had in the future. Definitely younger. Prettier, maybe? Or maybe just not ground down by catastrophic war. She's cute. The stray thought cost Aymeline some of her smile but her ire was directed at herself. The same can be said for Marie-Louise, now that she's cleaned up.

What the hell was wrong with her? Aymeline had never had much of an issue with her libido. Too busy until now with ranching and mastering her skills and in the future romance only got in the way of all the killing these people deserved. The Trickster's treachery put her on the same side with these Liotrans but when Aymeline had been thrown back in time by the Magician's last gambit, the last thing she'd expected was to notice anyone as cute.

The easy camaraderie between Solandis and Marie-Louise finally shook the Witch of the West from her inner reverie and she physically shook her head to clear such inexplicable thoughts.

Enkerzed
Dunan's muttered comment showed he had his head in the game, which Aymeline desperately needed to do as well.

She looked away from the two distracting women and focused on the wolf-eyed young man. Younger than her, seemingly. Aymeline hadn't noticed in the future, war had a way of grinding everyone down, but he was at least a few years younger than herself now. And yet, he was asking the good questions. For the first time since the encounter with the thugs, Aymeline was forced to consider the consequences of her actions. At the time, she'd seen an ally in danger and reacted accordingly. Hell, those kids were lucky to be alive.

But in this time period, Liotra still had an intact army. Still had police and patrols. Maybe Magicians? If word spread of what she'd done, it might bring trouble down on them. If so, it was trouble she could manage. Easy enough to claim self-defense, particularly in light of Marie-Louise's injuries and Aymeline had taken a couple of hits to show it hadn't been all one-sided. If someone did catch up with them and weren't of a mind to be dissuaded, she could always cut herself loose from the team and deal with the matter directly. The kind of investigation that led to a trial would, without question, tank her timeline for saving the King. But if it came to it, she'd make sure only she was tanked. The others could still save the day, if she didn't pull them down with her.

She held her tongue while the party moved on towards the Last Stop. At least the name on the tavern could make her smile a little. "A note's not a bad idea," she said to the latter part of Dunan's remarks. "Maybe we draw the sign of the Magician on something? I suppose I could leave Tanaya here by the fountain. She doesn't like anyone but me so no one's likely to make off with her without a fuss I'd hear. Open to better ideas, though."

And once they were well and truly underway, Aymeline admitted "Some people made trouble for Marie-Louise so I made trouble with them. With rocks." An innocuous enough remark, on its own, but the Witch of the West would someday be known for rising up stone in battle or burying enemies in avalanches of rock. The meaning was clear enough to anyone who'd known her. "Don't sweat it. It's over and done with. And if it's not, I'll handle it."

Kharmin
As they walked to the Last Stop, Aymeline glanced in Marie-Louise's direction and said in a soft voice, "You clean up good, kid."

Then she frowned at the Warrior's observation. Worth adding to. "She's not the only one," Aymeline said to the others. "Rocks were about all I could manage. But then, that was about all I could manage before things went to hell. Like she said, the memory's there but the body know what I do. It's weird. Maybe we can figure out a way to work past it. Maybe it'll come faster this time around, either way, because we know what we're doing now."

Marie-Louise's last question drew a rueful smile from Aymeline and the freckled girl with the wide-brimmed hat tipped that brim at the Warrior. "Drink's on me. Least I can do."


Rock Barrage: 10/10