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Fantasy God Slayer [IC|Closed]

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Name: King Leonhardt Animaeus
Race: Demi-Human
Date/Time: 9 A.M.; Spring; Morning of the Next Day
Location: Land of the Titans
Tagging: Axel The Englishman Axel The Englishman Ramjammer Ramjammer RI.a RI.a _Line 213 _Line 213 fluticasone fluticasone Euaion Euaion


With the fall of The Centurion and the retreat of the Children, the world became quiet and still. A momentary reprieve after a battle, or perhaps the calm before the storm? Circling overhead and shattering the brief quiet, was a red crow. It passed over the heads of the God Slayers, cawing.

Caw! Caw!

Its caws then became words:

Slayers of the Gods! Caw!

Slayers of the Gods!
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The bird exclaimed over and over. Ydis sees through the earth. Hears through the soil. Feels through the dirt. Knows through the sediment but he does not know the sky! Caw!

The earth shook and quaked. It vibrated and hummed loudly as though a giant were rolling over beneath its crust. The flat, cracked earth rose, billowing and rising into an enormous mound. The peak of the round hill touched the clouds and its circumference was greater than multiple gladiator arenas. Dirt and rock rolled, cracked, and crumbled as a seam split the mound at its center. The hill parted, revealing a green and glass-like surface. The surface reflected the overcast above and descending toward the seven God Slayers was a deep-green circle, and at its center was endless darkness. The circle scattered in ray-like patterns and the darkness at its center swelled. The God Slayers would then realize that they were gazing upon an eye!

The ground then rose about them. Two ridges divided the slayers and between them, the soil began to slide and dump into a fissure that had opened. From the fissure exuded a hot and humid breath strong with the smell of wood and dirt. Teeth of sandstone parted as the ground was swallowed and among the sliding sediment was Leonhardt and the prince. Leon paled. Baring his teeth through the ache of his muscles, he hopelessly spread his arms and dug his fingers into the sliding terrain. He was headed straight into the darkness.

I can’t escape! Leon thought. He gazed ahead at the slanted terrain and saw the prince unconscious and subjected to the same fate. Leon’s pupils swelled in horror. “NO!”

The red crow dove, and as it neared the ground, the bird grew in size. Its talons reached out to snatch up first Leon and then the prince. Flapping its wings and scattering dust, the bird rose out of the fissure and flew over the heads of the others, lowering its talons like hooks for them to grab on.

Come with me into the sky! Ydis does not know the sky!

Once the other heroes took hold, the red crow ascended away from the earth and the further the earth shrank beneath them, the more the God Slayers were able to see the face of the true god. It was half of Ydis’s face. His eye slowly rolled in the red crow’s direction and the god’s voice rang out as though a mountain had spoken:

You who water the earth in my children’s blood, you will not escape! I will swallow you whole! Let the sky be your eternal haven for as soon as you touch the soil, the ground will be your grave!

Leon was folded over one of crow's claws and protectively underneath his arm was the prince. The lion gazed down in awe at the god as its eye and mouth closed. Its face sank back into the ground and was erased from the wasteland. And here, they all had thought The Centurion was Ydis. Leon could not find the words to even speak! How were they supposed to defeat that?

The red crow cackled: “The Witch’s Shallows be on the water. Fool god. He cannot touch us there.”


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GM Award
Players can only choose one option:
Magic +1
Abilities +1
A Witch's Gift
 
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Name: Ynyri/Niri Allementhium
Race:
Demi-human; snake.
Date/Time: 9 A.M.; Spring; Morning of next day.
Location: Land of the Titans.
Tagging: @.everyone

Niri sighed softly, glad that Leon was able to wake up and even respond. Though, his announcement made her check over his body once more, to make sure that theres no other problem. Finding nothing of concern, she sat back onto the abused bedrock to give Leon some space.

Her eyes lingered upon his face, noticing his sullen expression. "Don't fret. Everyone seems more than capable of finishing the job." Niri comforted. "Especially Ost, as distracted as he is." She glanced to the slowly rising piles of battered titans. What a lively one he is.

As exhausted as she was, there was no time to relax when a titan is roaring in pain behind her. A spear through the head might settle him once in for all, but her eyes caught the gleam of Anne's blade. 'I wonder how her magic works.' Niri mused, ignoring the way Luna had practically sent the prince off to his peaceful subconscious.

Thr sorceress watched her intently, her eyes shining in curiosity and hints of worry. Anne was an admirable human, whose presence was comforting among the chaos; but her eye, the magic she wields, interested Niri greatly. The intangible images that danced around the woman would make any sane man uneasy, but Anne... She remained calm and indifferent to them. It was uncertain if it was because she was used to it, or because it was her own power she had awakened to.

Everyone here had their curious beginnings that Niri wanted to explore right away, but everyone seemed fairly guarded - or just did not care too much. With the exception of Band'lur, who was all too willing to take the lead in conversation during dinner.

Tension rose within Niri when she saw a familiar gathering of light glimmering from what she thought was the Titan. Her panic was short lived as she came to notice that it came from Anne's sword. The ability to replicate attacks is rare, and Niri had never seen such skill before, but the very concept of mimicry was always fascinating.

Anne's focused control and natural proficiency with swords had made her performance seem effortless and beautiful. Like a dance with the light of gods. Niri was in awe of such power. Brilliant streams of white, red, and purple streaks painted the sky and ground as large molten rock had fell. The trembling earth made Niri unsettled but she kept her composure as best as she could since she rose to her feet when Anne had fell to her knees, hunched over as the specter vanish. "Someone watch over the Lion!" She shouts out above the rolling earth, only labeling Leon as such due to his armor.

Niri rushes off to the kneeling knight but doesn't make it half way. The cries of the red crow overhead stopped her in her tracks, alarmed of the brilliant color of its feathers and by how it can speak.

Confusion settled upon her face, then realization. She wasn't given time to let it sink in when the ground shook once more, panic rushing through her. She didn't fall over until the ground became a raising hill that was too steep to stand on. Niri began to slide down the side until she was caught by an earthy arm of a stone monkey, whom took hold of her carefully. The vibrations made her sick, but her eyes wildly search for Anne. The knight was surely far too injured to save her fall. "Anne!" She calls out, her worry rising with the fact everyone could be in great danger.

The eyes of her summon had looked up at the descending crow, reflexively cradling Niri closer until it noticed it intented to carry her away from danger. Niri was lifted up and she easily twisted her body around the crows talons to take up less space for the others to join in. The thunderous threat from Ydis sent chills down her spine, her heart almost stopping as she gazed into the eye of a god. Were they ever capable of ever sending such a thing to the afterlife? She gripped onto the crows leg tighter, adjusting herself as it swooped down repeatedly for the others. Once everyone was gathered, she immediately checked on Anne. Placing a gentle hand over her seared arm, the pain eased and her flesh meld together into a pinkish scarring. Niri looked up at the crows head as it mocked the retreating god below them. Witches Shallow. The coven came to their rescue?

Anxiousness stirs within her belly, adrenalin slowly leaving her with exhaustion taking its place. She leaned against the base of the crows leg, hanging tightly with her arm and legs. Her other arm laid upon Anne's, warm magic soothing her continuously. Her mind raced with thoughts and questions that only made her restless during their moment of peace. Who knows how long this little break will last?

「 niri accepts the witches gift 」
 
Band forumpost.pngName: Band'lur Wallbreaker
Race: Demi-Human
Date/Time: 9 A.M.; Spring; Morning.
Location: Land of the Titans
Tagging: RI.a RI.a _Line 213 _Line 213

Band'lur eyed the spoiled Prince with a critical eye, chuffing in amusement as his declaration. "Don't threaten a man with things you can't do yourself. If you want this old hide of mine, you'd best be ready to take it with your bare hands, boy."

The Prince's survival was continuing to prove a conundrum for the Lizardman. On the one hand, his survival meant that Band'lur wouldn't have to bear the guilt of his parent's grief. On the other, Band'lur couldn't say he'd mind at all if the Prince didn't make it home alive.

The Lizardman could only shake his head and sigh as Luna tackled the Prince forcefully to the ground. For a runt, the girl had a lot of spunk. It stood to reason, the smaller you were, the more you had to fight to get anywhere in the world. He wasn't sure how Luna would have turned out had she lived among Band'lur's own Clan. The Condors would have likely made short work of her, but something told the Lizardman that she'd have made the birds regret picking a fight with her at all.

As it stood the Prince didn't seem to be putting up much of a fight at all. It was almost shameful. He could have at least had the decency to swing back at Luna. Not throwing a punch at your opponent in return was downright rude. The boy's hesitance cost him the ass, and Luna laid him out with a single blow to the surprise of damn near nobody.

"I almost wanna scold you for picking a fight with someone weaker than you." The Lizardman said dryly. In truth, he should have scolded her, and himself for failing to act while the wounded Centurion struggled to right itself. Band'lur's arms still hurt mightily, and they trembled constantly. 'Guess I really am out of practice.' The old Lizard mused bitterly. When had been the last time he stood on a battlefield like this? Before the fall of the Meteor most certainly. Had he really grown so soft in such a short amount of time? The thought alone was shameful. Hell, he wasn't even that old! Band'lur growled softly as if the act would scare off the offending thoughts. Rusty or not, the battlefield was no place for a pity party. He could feel sorry for himself back home.

He sucked in a breath, attempting to center himself as he worked both arms and shoulders repeatedly to get the blood flowing. Stretching both arms above his head, the Lizardman groaned audibly. It would take more than one strike to fell the Centurion, he knew that much. Luna had since leaped back into the fray. Band'lur spotted the shadowy trail of her magic as she tangled with another Titan and he chuckled softly. Yniri was tending to the fallen Knight, and Ost was...Well being Ost. Far in the distance, Band'lur watched as one Titan fell after another. No doubt the work of the unhinged Knight.

"Crazy bastard has gotta be havin' the time of his life." The Lizardman muttered.

An ominous rumbling brought Band'lur's attention back to the struggling Centurion. It's balance was obviously askew. Tattered stumps were all that remained of its arms, and they bled molten rock in endless streams leaving the ground burnt and singed in its stumbling wake. The Centurion lurched ever closer, its dead-eyed gaze affixed firmly on them. If the thing knew hate, Band'lur certainly couldn't tell. If anything the God seemed devoid of all emotion, all thought. Moving in a mechanical manner, and driven by instinct. Nothing that took the shape of a man should be so devoid of higher thought, and yet there it was. The Lizardman shivered slightly and righted himself to better face the oncoming Centurion. He looked round, hoping to find Anne somewhere among them, but she was gone.

'Now where in the Hell is that woman?' Band'lur's thoughts were a jumble of confusion. She'd been there just a moment ago, and the Lizardman knew that if he planned to tackle the Centurion looming over them that he'd need Annelia's help.

Apparently, Annelia felt otherwise.

She hadn't waited. Not for him, not for anyone. The glint of steel and magic caught Band'lur's eye, and there on the battlefield, she charged forward. The Lizardman huffed in mild annoyance, but he internally admitted that she was right to go ahead without him. That annoyance was abruptly crushed and replaced with awe, as Anne struck the first of many devastating blows to the Centurion. Band'lur whistled loudly, impressed by the woman's grasp of magic and her capacity to wield it with such deadly intent.

It was awe inspiring to watch Anne take the Centurion to task, but there was a deep primal horror lurking just underneath. The Centurion roared and buckled. Chunks of stonelike flesh rent from its body, as Anne's magic cut through it like a hot knife through butter. The sheer wrongness of it all was not lost on Band'lur. They'd been called, yes. Called to action, and spurred not long after. And they'd each risen to the challenge. Mortals, fighting the will of the Gods was nothing new. It was a tale as old as time itself.

But Mortals winning that struggle, and making the Gods themselves bleed? It was nothing short of a cosmic mockery. What good was a God that could be killed by its own creations? What right did anything have to call itself a God when the title could be stripped away so easily?

For what had to be the hundredth time that day, Band'lur once more found himself on the brink of awe and fear. The Centurion had fallen, never to rise again. All around its children followed it to the grave. They'd won, and yet the Lizardman did not feel the familiar exhilaration that came in the wake of a well-fought battle. Only cold and distant worry.

What could possibly come after this?

He got his answer. And had Band'lur forseen it at all, he'd have never bothered to ask at all.

The earth beneath his feet did not care, however. This much was clear. Whether he liked it or not, the ground answered and knowing was forced upon all of them.

First, there was a mound, and then there was a hill. It rose and rose, climbing towards the sky and a mountain sprung forth as if it'd simply always been there. Imposing and stern, the mountain's face stared blindly out over the fields, littered with corpses big and small.

And then it was no longer blind.

Band'lur stood frozen in place by fear, only watching in dumb silence as the mountain's eye opened. It stared down at them, distant and glassy. The Lizardman felt as if his own soul was on display, being weighed and judged by the silent colossus. The eye was unnervingly Human. Seeming to possess an intelligence that exceeded that of everyone present combined. And indeed sentience breeds emotion, as the gaze changed from one of frightful indifference to all-consuming fury.

It spoke, and the ground opened, a fissure so wide that Band'lur could not see the edge. His feet came from under him, and the Lizardman struggled to regain his balance. Waves of soil fought his every move, cascading down into the newly opened abyss like a raging waterfall. They were falling, all of them. The earth was going to swallow them all, and understanding dawned on Band'lur like a knife in a gut. This was Ydis. This was the God of the Earth. Lord of all that walked upon or burrowed beneath. Band'lur fell ever further into the dark and the God spoke. The Lizardman felt the words, more than he heard them. The sound vibrating down to his very bones.

The voice was old. Older than him, older than the stones that made up all the world. Deep, deep below Band'lur could hear. Stones grinding against one another, great shifting plates of the earth rumbling further down than any man had a right to consider. There was no light down there. Only death awaited them all, and Ban'lur scrabbled uselessly against the cascade of earth. His claws could find no purchase on the soft ground, and the Lizardman roared in frustration. This was not, on his list of preferred ways to die.

The cackling of a Raven reached his ears, and Band'lur felt a surge of mild irritation. "Great! 'm gettin' ready to meet my damn maker and even the birds are laughing at me."

A shadow loomed over the Demi-Human, blocking out what remained of the sun overhead. Band'lur canted his head back, trying to get a better view of what was going on above him. Was it one of Yniri's constructs coming to save him? If it was, it certainly lacked manners. The cackling only increased in volume, and something yanked forcefully at Band'lur's tail. The Lizardman thrashed in alarm, but the grip remained tight. He was being lifted. Out of the dark, out of the widening fissure and into the sky.

Band'lur dangled there uselessly for a moment, a frown etched deeply into his features. From what little he could see, a large red bird had grabbed him. Something he was eternally thankful for, but he wasn't particularly keen about being hauled off while hanging upside down. To his left and right, the Lizardman could see his companion. Each of them hanging from the talons of an equally large bird. The cackling continued in earnest as the Ravens carried them off, mocking the impotent rage of the God below them.

The Sky was certainly safer than the ground, but Band'lur knew that they'd have to land sooner or later. Apparently, the Ravens had prepared for that. One spoke of a Witch, somewhere on the water that would help them. Normally, being snatched up by a large bird that promised to carry one to a witch's home would be cause for skepticism and concern. But given the day that he'd had, Band'lur was willing to take the risk.

He just hoped that the trip wasn't long.

[Band'lur gains +1 Magic]
 
9146DC67-EB52-4859-A4F9-C6F0109934C9.jpegName: Wil Ostberg, the Marshland Halberdier
Race: Human
Date/Time: 10 A.M.; Spring; The Next Morning
Location: Land of the Titans
Tagging: N/A

Ost drew ever more closer to his prey. But he was growing short on pikes. Only two were left, and he dared not risk losing his prized halberd just yet. That was reserved especially for a God. Ost would just have to make to do. The Centurion was only so many yards away by now.

But before Ost could even lay a finger on the God, he noticed a faint glint of white from behind. But the light did not forever stay dull. It soon became intense, so much so Ost was forced to shield his eyes behind his gauntlet. When the light had withered away, he noticed what had happened. The Centurion had been dealt a devastating blow. Likely far more than he could have ever inflicted. His feelings of such power were conflicted. Indeed, the display was admirable, but it was magic; foul and dishonourable no matter who wielded it. But Ost has no time to process such thoughts. Yet another arc of light blinded him once more. This time it was fatal. The Centurion was splintered into a sequence of gore and what would have been blood. The beast, after this, was no more.

Something certainly seemed off. It all seemed too easy. A God felled by mere mortal magic? It was as if it was a fairytale. Surely it wasn’t going to be this easy?

Ost soon found his answer. The peace that was had only been temporarily. The land had given way to something even far greater than before. Aye, even greater than the Centurion. Dirt and grass were soon sucked away into a dark abyss. Ost was thrown off the red stallion that served him well moments before, slipping into the dark below. What once was bravery had not devolved into primordial fear. The horse bolted away from the battle, eager to escape the nightmare that now was reality.

Ost couldn’t help but contain his laughter. He cheered in content. It seemed that the true God was now ready to play. There was still a God to slay.

“Could a God ever meet its maker?” He yelled, hoping to capture the attention of Ydis. “We’ll soon find ou-“ Ost was snatched away before he could finish. Snatched away by a big red speck of shit. Or if one were to go by appearance, a crow. A crow that was taking him further away from the battle.

“What are you doing!? Ydis still breathes!”

[Ost gains +1 Ability]
 
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Name: Luna/Tatiana Yurievna
Race:
Demi-human
Date/Time: 9 A.M.; Spring; Morning of the Next Day
Location: Land of the Titans
Tagging: Everyone
Luna huffed as she stood upright amongst the titans corpses. Her sword lax in her hands as she let her guard down just a little knowing that it was over. The centurion had fallen and the squad of god slayers could rest and recuperate, even if it was just for a little.

Titan blood splattered on the ground, sliding off the blade as she sheathed her sword on her back effortlessly, having done this over thousands of times. It was the moment she had enough relishing the feeling of victory and walked back towards Band and the others that the ground started shaking violently. She had thought that it was her own body at first, perhaps collapsing from fatigue. But the continuous rumble told her otherwise. What's happening now!?

The increasing magnitude broke the ground and a massive crater formed. Luna lost her footing several times, feeling weaker each time she managed to get up. Whichever piece of earth she stepped on crumbled and fell into the abyss seconds after. Even her speed couldn't help keep her from being swallowed. "Shit!

Something was emerging from the darkness. She didn't know what it was but it's anything but good. And of course it turned out to be Ydis. Despair overwhelmed her. How were they supposed to slay that! It took nearly everything just to beat one of its bigger children! A giant red bird swooped down towards her. Great, she was going to be bird food. But instead of snatching Luna into its mouth, it held its talons out to her. Familiar faces all latched onto parts of its legs. Her own kept shaking as she fell with the ground. With one last desperate jump, she leaped with a cry. Her arms reaching out towards the claw.

Latching on to the bird's feet, she clumsily cambered up so she was able to sit next to the lizardman.

"Band'lur... Is this Yniri's magic?" She asked, her voice hoarse as she looked around. The snake woman was with Anne, Ostberg demanding to be let down to fight the god, and the shiny Knight held on to the prince; whom she glared at. Even in his unconscious state, he sure was a pain in the ass.

[ Luna gains +1 Magic ]
 
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Tagging: Axel The Englishman Axel The Englishman Ramjammer Ramjammer RI.a RI.a _Line 213 _Line 213 fluticasone fluticasone Euaion Euaion


The red crow flew north, carrying the tired and worn bodies of the God Slayers. Some slept, while others remained awake the whole way. The journey took an hour and a half—quicker than what would have taken an entire day by foot. The bird passed over light-blue shallow water. Through the glass-like liquid, one could see reefs and sand shelves and standing on stilts above it all were bungalows. There were five bungalows total. Two were in the front and three behind them. Planks connected them all as walkways. A lone chimney breathed a gray tail of smoke into the sky.

The crow lowered, flapping frantically as it descended over a plank. It waited for those capable to drop off and to take the resting and unconscious with them before it flew toward the door of the rightmost bungalow, shrinking as it did. Red feathers compacted, twisted, and shrank down to a small, cloaked figure. Two arms spread from her cloak. Her left hand clutched a wooden staff and her right disappeared into a drooping sleeve. Potion-filled bobbles hung in a rope from her shoulders and sacks from her belt. When the hunched over figure hobbled around to face the seven, she was a sight that made eyes sore. Sunken eyes, missing teeth, and a long pointy nose, she was the witch from fairytales. She was what Humans told their children at night to scare them into doing what was right. She looked from Ostberg to Ryland, and then Band’lur to the resting Leon and unconscious Destinian. The corners of her mouth rose like a coy girl as she giggled, “So many handsome young ones.” She then looked at Luna, Annelia, and Ynyri and teased, “You won’t find finer husbands these days.”

The old woman’s shoulders shook with another laugh before she turned back toward her hut and instructed, “There are three huts in the back. That is where you will sleep. I do not care how you arrange yourselves. Take the sleeping there and take those in need of healing here.”

She hobbled over to the cloth door of her hut and continued to inform: “Ydis cannot see or hear us here, but there are other gods to be weary off and so do not speak their names. I have a ward on this place, and I can only assume that it works. I have not been found or attacked, so rest while you can for I may know a way to destroy the Titan god.”

The witch passed through the door flap into a round room. The furniture was wood. Scrolls, candles, vials, and the bones of mysterious animals covered every table and shelf, and filled every space. A cauldron was in the center of the room, residing in the center of a large pentagram. The old woman hobbled over to her crap-covered tables and shoved everything onto the floor. Instead of a loud crash and clatter, the objects seemed to vanish and reappear upon the shelves.

“Place your wounded on these tables. I will examine them,” the hag instructed.


GM Note: Feel free to ask the old hag questions. See this as a mild sandbox time where you can have your character go wherever they want on the shallows. If they leave the shallows, they may be seen by Ydis if they touch land or…another god.
 
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Name: Luna/Tatiana Yurievna
Race:
Demi-human
Date/Time: 10:30 A.M.; Spring; Morning of the Next Day
Location: Witch's huts
Tagging: Everyone
Luna wasn't sure when she fell asleep, or how she managed to hold on to the bird while unconscious. The sudden jerk against a hard chest woke her. Within a second she struggled in the scaly lizardman's arms till she was free and standing on her own. Her feet sunk into the soft warm sand, the sound of soft waves behind her and she frantically looked around, a little taken aback to see where they were. Where were they?

Removing her mask, she wiped the sweat and grime stuck on her face, her gaze shifting towards Band'lur awkwardly before muttering a 'thank you'.

She watched the large bird shrink into the... Elderly woman. Luna rolled her eyes at the woman's cheeky comment about husbands. She offered them beds to rest, treatment for the wounded, a safe space from the gods, and even a way to beat the titan god? The girl raised a brow in suspicion. This is awfully convenient. But they needed it. Luna went over to Anne and Yniri, supporting Anne towards the room the hag went into.

Magic wasn't new to Luna, she used a form of it herself. Moreover she witnessed several different ones her allies used. But the elder's magic intrigued her. She could turn herself into a large bird, and capable of healing and several other feats. Were they all the same kind of magic?

She took the liberty to ask what most of the group were probably wondering. "Who are you? Why are you helping us?" Was it rude to question their lifesaver without thanking her first? Probably.
 
Name: Annelia Lastelle du Lema
Race: Human
Date/Time: 7:00 A.M.; Spring; Morning
Location: The Land of the Titans
Tagging: Euaion Euaion , Ramjammer Ramjammer , RI.a RI.a , The Black Knight The Black Knight . Axel The Englishman Axel The Englishman


For the entirety of the journey, Annelia offered only slight, even breathing, the rise and fall of her chest obscured by cloth and metal as the awe-inspiring sight of the great magical birds was denied to her by sleep. Pain found her, ever so briefly, as Niri pulled her armor away and did what she could to mend her burnt skin. As her brows furrowed and her heart quickened, her flesh shifted and reformed, pink, weaving, raised shapes and scars now forever marking her earlier trial. And yet, not even that was enough to wake her, no doubt in part to Niri's constant soothings, the demi-human's magic slowly easing her back into a greater, more restful sleep as they continued far above the land and their greater monster.
---​

Annelia seemed no closer to waking by the time the journey ended. Instead, sleep had wrapped even more of its endless arms upon her. Injured though she was, she was in no danger; her body had little strength left to it. Even for she, someone who had held her home's final gate for man a year, what they had experienced was far beyond anything she had seen before. She seemed vulnerable in her restfulness, the soft, neutral expression now upon her at great odds with the hardened features of her face and wakened demeanor. Her hair fell where it willed, long strands of near-white framing her face and splaying in long arcs and lazy spirals upon the wood. It was only once her position forcefully shifted, once the gentle upward and downward motions of their sudden caretaker were no more, that she finally seemed to begin returning to life, albeit slowly. The witch-woman had long disappeared into her abode once Anne began to stir, her two eyes opening slowly, only for her discolored one to instinctively shutter as her mind returned.

She shifted her injured arm, hissing as sensitivity shot fresh pain through the limb. Her other hand moved to press itself against her forehead as she slowly sat upward, realizing rather quickly that she did not have it in her to move the rest of the way. Niri and Luna; the names of the two figures nearest her slowly came back to her, though they went unsaid, her one eye looking to her now-disfigured arm, lightly twitching the farthest joints of her fingers as she tested her discomfort. Luna had begun helping her to her feet before she had the chance to protest, bringing her toward the unfamiliar building, her free gaze wandering across their surroundings entirely silently; though she rose, she had no strength for asking questions, not immediately. The burning desire for answers barely registered within her, the entirety of her initial efforts focused on taking as much of her pace into her own hands so as not to burden the demi-human beside her any further.
 
563774Name: Band'lur Wallbreaker
Race: Demi-Human
Date/Time: Spring; Morning.
Location: Witch's Hut
Tagging: Open _Line 213 _Line 213 RI.a RI.a The Black Knight The Black Knight Euaion Euaion

Had he traded one indignity for another? Indeed it seemed that way to Band'lur. The massive Crow spirited the gaggle of heroes away to parts unknown. Space was extremely limited, and the Lizardman had always taken up more than he rightfully should have. He dangled beneath the bird helplessly, his tail grasped in a massive talon. The wind knocked Band'lur about tremendously. But that was a minor inconvenience in the face of the sheer drop hundreds of feet below him. The Lizardman was a man of the Peaks, through and through. But there was a marked difference between being up high with a hand and foothold to secure you, and being at the whims of an unknown bird.

Speaking of unnecessarily large birds, Band'lur was forced to grapple with the primal urge to twist his body to bite the damn thing's ankle and force it to let him go. The giant Condors native to his home had made a habit of swooping down and making off with the smaller members of his Clan. Anyone quick and flexible enough could reach around to bite at their legs, startling the damnable things and forcing them to let them go. But that window of opportunity was small. The higher you were taken, the greater your chances of dying from the fall.

Band'lur was far higher than he was comfortable with, and he knew that struggling would only get him killed. The Lizardman tried to quell his instincts, the better functioning parts of his brain reminding him that the Crow was an ally. It had spoken to them after all. Meaning the bird was able to reason. All things considered, it probably wouldn't like being bitten . Especially after taking such pains to save them all. An unwelcome reward that would be.

It took Luna shouting at him over the rush of wind to draw the Lizardman's attention to her and away from his musings. He shook his head, though it was doubtful that she could see the gesture. "Y'niri's? No, I don't think so. She'd have told us otherwise."

The scenery rushed by below them all, and Band'lur knew that they were moving at a remarkable clip. Wherever the Crow intended for them to be, they wanted to get there in a hurry. It was undoubtedly so that this 'Witch' they were being ferried to wouldn't be kept waiting. Band'lur knew that Humans had strange notions about Magic and even stranger notions about the people who practiced them. He recalled that anyone calling themselves a Witch, or having the misfortune to be branded as one weren't held in high regard. Odd, given that one had saved them all. But Band'lur had long since come to the conclusion that Human's weren't very consistent either.

He dangled from the Crow's talons for near two hours before anything changed. His companions were in varying degrees of wakefulness and Band'lur counted the ones not conscious to be lucky. The landing wasn't rough by any means, but it was certainly awkward. Once finding his feet, the Lizardman stood shakily on the wooden boards beneath him. Water surrounded them for as far as the eye could see, and the Lizardman scowled plainly. It was safer here than on land by far, but deep water made the Demi-Human nervous. Swimming was unsurprisingly, not in Band'lur's skillset and he resolved to try and stay on the boardwalk as best he could.

The Crow all but dropped his Companions, clearly tired of hauling them around and Band'lur couldn't blame it in the slightest. He also couldn't quite make sense of what he saw next. Feathers melted away before his eyes, quick as snow under the sun and all that was left behind was a small woman. She grinned cheekily up at them all, sunken eyes alight with mischief in her wrinkled face.

"Oh." Was all that the Lizardman could manage in response. Conjuring giant birds was one thing. But it wasn't every day that you watched one turn into an old woman. Band'lur shook his head to cast off any doubts settling over his mind. Given the day that he'd had, he shouldn't have been too shocked. Instead, he listened to the old woman, his head cocking as he eyed her with renewed interest. " A way to destroy Ydis? Well if it's anything like that trick you just pulled then I'm all ears. Let me just uh...help these folks up I guess."


Band'lur set about picking up who he could. Yniri had managed to get her bearings and was fussing over the injured and so he felt safe leaving them in her care for the time being. Sleeping on wooden boards for a few minutes wouldn't hurt them any more than fighting Gods had. His eyes fell on Luna who had fallen asleep sometime during the flight, and the Lizardman tucked her against his chest with one arm. She was remarkably light, which made his task all the easier. He frowned when he set his sights on Destinian. The Prince was still out of it, and would probably be so for a while yet. Band'lur debated leaving him laying there on the floor, but his good nature won out marginally. He also admittedly, didn't want to hear the brat's whining when he woke up to find that he hadn't been moved to a bed.

Band'lur sighed balefully and moved towards the man. Somehow his motions jostled Luna awake, but oddly being dragged through the sky by a large bird hadn't. 'Kids.' The man thought to himself. He let go immediately when the woman began to squirm, obviously wanting to be put down. She dropped to the floor and offered the man a cursory thanks in response. Band'lur only chuckled ruefully at the girl, reaching out to ruffle her hair with a large clawed hand. "Good, you're awake. We need some extra hands around here."

He reached down to snag the Prince in an arm, tucking the unconscious man under an arm like a sack of potatoes. Once Band'lur was sure Destinian was secure, he hauled the man to one of the huts that the Witch indicated. It was a small and modest thing. Sparsely decorated and weathered. Band'lur didn't mind in the slightest. The aged wood, dusty furs, and the warm breeze reminded him of his homeland somewhat. It was small, and it was simple just the way he liked it.

Standing at the door, Band'lur lifted his arms and chucked Destinian at one of the beds. The man's body struck the mattress heavily and bounced several times before settling.

"Nice."

He left the Prince there, figuring that all would be explained once he came too. Band'lur wasn't sure as to what they'd do with the boy. The couldn't just send him back home now, not when they were so far from land. And Ydis' threat had not been forgotten. The moment that any of them touched solid earth, they were done for. It was a bit of a conundrum, made all the worse by the fact that they'd have to be looking after Destininan for longer than they'd planned on.

Band'lur sighed, coming upon Leon's prone form. He was still sleeping too. The Lizardman knew that Yniri had tended to his wounds at the battlefield, but he figured she could take better care of him in the Witch's hut. Picking the man's prone body up was a slight struggle, a rarity for Band'lur. He wasn't that big, and his armor reasonably shouldn't have been much of a burden to the Lizardman regardless. 'Come to think, my arms are still a bit tingly from blocking that spear.' He brushed off his concerns after that, merely resigning himself to carrying Leon towards the Witch's hut in both arms. Leon suddenly looked the part of a sleeping Princess in his present state, making Band'lur the handsome Prince. The Lizardman didn't exactly mind the concept, but he figured Leon would and he hurried to set the man down inside lest he awaken and get upset.

The Witch's Hut was cluttered and messy, unsurprising to the Lizardman. Vials, bowls, jars, and vases covered nearly every square inch of the space. Each filled with plants, animal parts and all manner of interesting things. Tables had been cleared for their wounded and Band'lur immediately set Leon down on the one next to the table Annelia was residing on. The woman was in bad shape, and he winced as took in the sight of her injured arm. She'd borne the brunt of the final assault and struck the killing blow. An honor if there ever was one. But it had come at great cost, and Band'lur was worried for her.

He didn't say it out loud or show it in any manner. Because he was a manly man. And Annelia was incredibly manly despite being a woman. Crying because she'd been injured would have been disrespectful, even though he kind of wanted to.

Instead, Band'lur settled for gazing around the Witch's cramped hut, his eyes wide with curiosity. The small space, strange reagents and air of mystery reminded him of the Shaman's hut back home. There you were only allowed in if invited, and touching things was forbidden save for what the Shamans allowed. The Lizardman dutifully kept his hands to himself and wandered around the small space to take everything in. Some of the herbs and mushrooms he recognized. The animal bones too. But there were many things he didn't recognize. Plants from places he'd never been. Strange insects pickled in large jars that he'd never even seen before. It was all very interesting.

But the Lizardman kept the lessons of his home in mind above all else. He gave the bubbling cauldron a wide berth, knowing that whatever was inside wasn't meant for him. Moreover, he didn't want to be in the way any more than he was. Band'lur seated himself on the floor, watching the diminutive woman work in silence for a moment before deciding to speak.

"So uh...Where in the hell did you bring us exactly? And how'd you know to come get us at all?"
 
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Name: Ynyri/Niri Allementhium
Race:
Demi-human; snake.
Date/Time: 10 30 A.M.; Spring; Morning.
Location: Witch Shallow.
Tagging: @.everyone

Ynyri felt lightheaded. Her nerves were relaxed enough to feel exhaustion weigh on her shoulders. A gnawing worry filled her stomach as she gazed at the passing clouds. Ydis is certainly going to be an formidable opponent, but he did not scare Ynyri as much as Ellua did. Her father was still at the forest; and while she did leave behind notes and maps for him, it was still worrisome to leave him to fend for himself against the goddess. She was cruel beyond compare, sparing no one from her 'games'.

Ynyri blew against the wind, her magic swirling into the shape of a small bird. A silent request sent it on its way, disappearing among the clouds. She hoped for good news to return. With that, she took her rest, occasionally checking on Anne until the landing above a very beautiful sight.

Ynyri was never really around the edges of the land, only a handful of times had she seen the sea. It was serene. Her eyes gleamed against the shining surface, a wondrous look upon her face upon the coral and fish below. It was like a moving glass painting. Had Ynyri not known any better, she would've thought it were all constructed by magic. She marveled a little longer until landing came. She moved sluggishly to unwrap herself from the crows feet, muscles somewhat tense from the ride.

Ynyri looked off and around the area, her tilted head indicating her curioisty of the little homes. It was somewhat similar to the huts she lived in among the high tree tops. The sorcerer turned her attention to the crow, not too surprised of her transformation. She remained quiet, only listening to the old witch speak. Her cheeks dusted lightly with pink at her comment of husbands, making her look off to the water below. Is this really a time to bring up such thing?

Hesitation prevented Ynyri from following the witch, but seeing Band'lur carry the prince off and Luna helping Anne to her feet, she eventually got her legs to move forward, assiting the black cat and knight. The sorceress wasn't quite fond of witches, mostly because of the fact they dabble in darker magic. Or so she has heard. While its better not to place judgment upon those who saved you, Ynyri remained guarded. Ynyri exhaled in attempt to ease her weariness just enough to tolerate the idea.

Entering the hut changed her mood quick. The vast collection of herbs, minerals, and even preserved creatures struck a childish giddiness in Ynyri. Her mother had various of things in her room once, being the main reason she had come to learn so much about such things. She recognised more than half of what lined the walls and shelves, taking note of things she did not. It was as if she was back home again. Her nostalgic trip ended when Band'lur stepped in with Leon cradled in his arms like a prince carrying their princess. It was hard to hide a smile, but a turn of the head would suffice enough.

Ynyri went to Anne's side, coaxing the knight to sit and relax. Her hands were careful not to disturb her still fresh wounds, delicately moving strands of pale hair out and away from her injured arm to the other. "I can assit you in their recovery if you need a hand." Ynyri says to the Witch. Her hands fold over eachother in front of her as she stands next to Anne. "I hope to check over everyone - just to be safe." She adds, giving a cursor glance over her allies.
 
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Name: Ryland Nustram
Race: Human
Date/Time: Spring; Morning
Location: Witch's Hut
Tagging: everyone

When the earth began to shatter beneath his feet, resignation rather than panic was the first emotion Ryland felt. It was only a moment though; forcibly ignoring his body's fatigue, he grappled with the soft ground for purchase. Pain resonated along his left arm as a boulder pelted its encased form. Just as the pain was about to overcome his strength to hold on, a voice called to him and his comrades. One that seemed to come from a crow. After the battle, he no longer questioned the sentient bird; as others grabbed on, he did the same. If this was a trap, so be it. They would've certainly died had they chosen to take their chances in the chasms below.

As they flew higher, a rumble resembling the earth itself and a voice that belonged to what could only be a god spoke of warning. Despite his overheated body, he felt a chill run down his spine. They'd already struggled to beat the Centurion, thinking he was Ydis himself. The gravity of the situation settled like a rock in his gut. There was nothing he could do about it, nor about the cocky creature he and the group currently rode.

They were at the mercy of the witch who had chosen to rescue them.

[ Ryland gains +1 Ability ]


The ride wasn't comfortable. Though the wind reminded him of his childhood days at sea, the somber mood made it impossible to enjoy the nostalgia. He wanted to dismantle his armor, knowing that the result wouldn't be pretty. But someone else was in more dire need of help - Annelia lay breathing beside him, the small sounds of pain she made in her sleep had him wincing in empathy. As Ynyri worked her magic, the pain obviously eased, but it was obvious to anyone that the lady knight was in no position to walk, much less slay a god.

They were moving quickly. Whoever the witch was, they were at least smart enough to know not to tempt fate by dallying. They soon arrived, and the landing could only be described as awkward. Somehow, he couldn't even find himself to be shocked as the crow turned into the witch. It had seemed too articulate to be a simple familiar, far more intelligent than the ones Ynyri had summoned in battle. He didn't bother to comment on the witch's statement, knowing he was old enough to be a father to some.

As the others helped the less capable into the huts, Ryland stood still on the planks, breathing in the smell of the sea. Homesickness for a place that no longer existed. His lips formed a thin line. Everyone had gone inside, and he knew he shouldn't brood in his thoughts much longer. Wishing for the past was a fruitless exercise.

Reluctantly, he followed after the rest. The home was sparse in furniture, but filled with an assortment of items he assumed was for potions and such. His arm protested as he tried to raise his left hand to look at a bottle; emotions had temporarily dampened the pain. The boulder had probably done a number on his arm, though without his armor he probably wouldn't even have one anymore. With a grunt he took a seat in the corner of the room, beginning the meticulous process of disassembling the intricate armor. Others had already began their interrogation of the witch; he couldn't blame them. Rye would be right alongside them if he wasn't busy trying to off each piece with only one hand. Instead, he simply echoed their sentiments.

"Same questions as everyone else."
 
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Tagging: Axel The Englishman Axel The Englishman Ramjammer Ramjammer RI.a RI.a _Line 213 _Line 213 fluticasone fluticasone Euaion Euaion


Setting down her staff, the witch waddled about on her bad hips. Even with all her magic, she could never undo the time that weighed on her old bones. She began going through the jars on her shelves. She opened one that looked full of a green mold and gave it a sniff before her nose wrinkled and she returned it to the shelf. It was to be expected. Anything that resembled mold shouldn’t have had a pleasant smell.

Who are you? Why are you helping us?

The old hag opened another jar and inside it was a dip stick. Grabbing the stick, she stirred a thick gooey substance that was tan and resembled earwax. Closing the lid, she responded to Luna as she walked over to Ynyri: “What an ungrateful child (everyone was a child to her). You should be saying thank you!”

Handing the snake woman the jar of odd wax, she said, “You wanna help, then spread this over whatever wounds you find. I don’t have an endless supply of salve so if they aren’t dyin’ then don’t waste it.”

The hag stepped over to Annelia then and raised her hands, hovering her palms over her body. She closed her eyes and frowned in concentration until Band’lur questioned her next. “Hush!” she scolded.

Humming softly, the old woman’s frown deepened and moments after, she lowered her hands. Opening her eyes, she reached a hand over to Annelia’s right eye and rested her index finger and thumb upon her eyelid. Spreading her lids apart, the old woman inspected her eye and then revealed, “This one has a witch’s eye.”

It was all the old woman said before she released Anne’s eyelids, allowing them to close. “Her life must have been arduous. Humans never understood magic, and they considered the Magi to be evil. Some of us grew addicted to the power and lusted after it. Because of them, we were driven from our lands and loved ones. Anyone born a Magi was to be killed or exiled. Alas, there not be many of us left. Since Meteor, the gods have hunted us into extinction, fearing that we would rival their power.”

She glanced around at the seven who stood and laid around her. “When I saw a group of fools actually opposing the gods, and nearly succeeding, I knew I had to help. Some of you use magic and yet you’re not Magi. Some of you possess impossible power, and yet, you are not gods…”

She brushed at a few hairs protruding from a black mole on her chin. “Hm…interesting.”

She moved over to Leon next, and while he slept, she held a hand over his chest, hovering as she did with Anne. “I am Gwendolin. I am Magi, but to ignorant Humans, I am a witch. I may be the last, but unless the gods destroy Beloriel, I know I will not be for long. What a sad time for those born Magi…they must not only contend with the gods but the Humans.”

It seemed Gwendolin only answered their questions when she wished to: “I have brought you north to the edge of the Crystal Sea. The Last Kingdom is southeast of here.”

Lowering her hand, she reported: “This one needs rest. His muscles are completely torn to pieces.” She clasped her wrinkled hands behind her back and walked over to her empty cauldron to gaze at it thoughtfully, “I will need to prepare a tonic lest his liver fails. His armor does more harm than good. He will need new ones.”

Narrowing her eyes, she muttered to herself, “I may have just the thing…”

She fell silent for a moment and then walked over to another shelf to start messing with her jars of oddities. “All of you should rest and heal. We can discuss Ydis tomorrow. Me and the Skinny One (Ynyri) have some work to do.”

They were going to be cooking potions late into the night.


GM Note: This is a resting period for the characters to heal and recuperate. Unless some writers opt to sandbox for a few posts, the story will continue on the next GM post.
 
Last edited:
569236Name: Band'lur Wallbreaker
Race: Demi-Human
Date/Time: Spring; Morning.
Location: The Witch's Hut.
Tagging: Open.

Band'lur balked slightly as the Witch commanded him to be silent. Much as the Lizardman wanted to protest he held his tongue. He'd long since had the lesson of respecting one's Elders beaten into him. But that didn't make it any more fun. Instead, he settled for loafing about on the floor of the Hut, listening intently to the wizened woman all the while. Annelia's eye was a point of interest to him, and the Demi-Human couldn't help but scoff.

"Yeah Humans are just like that. Always afraid of what's different. As if they aren't all a bunch of weirdos themselves." He trailed off momentarily, eyes finding several of his own Human companions. "No offense meant to present company, and all that."

The Lizardman couldn't understand why Humans were so afraid of Magic. It was useful in his own opinion. And it wasn't as if Anne's own version of it hadn't saved all their sorry asses. At least until Ydis had showed up anyhow. Band'lur shuddered slightly as he recalled the God's titanic form. He wasn't sure there was enough magic to defeat that, but the Witch seemed positive she had the answer. And even if she really didn't, Band'lur wasn't really in a position to doubt her or deny her help. She had saved them after all, and was even going through the arduous process of patching them all up.

Or most of them anyway. Band'lur shooed Yniri away when she approached intending to tend to his arms. "No, no! I'm fine! Look after the idiots on those tables, I'll survive."

Stubborn as he was, the old Lizard didn't much like the thought of being tended to while others were in greater need. It was unseemly! And a bit unmanly too. He frowned as Gwendoline mentioned Leon's state in particular. It didn't sound like the man would get up soon. Much less walking or fighting. He hunkered down and lumbered across the floor on all fours, coming to a halt at the side of the table that Leon rested on. Chin placed against the surface of the wood, Band'lur eyed the unconscious man with a critical eye. He certainly looked worse for the wear, and the Lizardman wondered when or if he'd ever wake up. He reached out with a large clawed hand to prod him gently in the head, but it was to no result.

"Yeah, the poor son of a bitch is really out of it."

The Lizardman huffed lowly, his nostrils flaring in response. Band'lur wasn't exactly surprised to hear that the man's armor didn't help. Armor was about as pointless to the Demi-Human as any other kind of clothing. All battles were meant to be fought shirtless and screaming. Not encased in twice one's body weight in steel. It was a shame that Band'lur wasn't shedding. He was sure that some of his own scales would have been helpful to the sleeping man. But he had none to spare. He resolved to gather them up once he started, that way everyone could have a few for added protection.

Watching Yniri and Gwendolin was interesting in its own right, and Band'lur would have liked to sit and watch. But another, significantly more pressing issue suddenly caught the Lizard's attention.

He was hungry.

Fighting the children of the Gods took a lot of out of a man. And it worked up an appetite like nothing else could. Deciding to leave the two Magic users to their work in peace, Band'lur stood up with a quiet murmur about finding some lunch and lumbered out of the hut. There was no land for miles around, and even if there had been the Lizardman wasn't in much of a position to go hunting. He grumbled to himself, looking left and right for a solution and was met by sparkling blue water on all sides. He supposed that fishing was a perfectly viable option, but he had no desire to go swimming. He wasn't great at it anyway, and the deep waters filled the normally brash man with a sense of dread.

A sharp screech drew the Lizardman's attention to the air. There in the blue sky, he spied a flock of Gulls drifting merrily along. Band'lur was suddenly struck by an idea. An idea he'd put into practice before and would allow him to put forth the minimal amount of effort a man required to get a meal.

He shuffled back into the hut and searched the shelves for the supplies he needed. Namely, a rag and some oil. Lantern oil worked just fine. The Lizardman set to work, polishing his blue scales to a lovely sheen. Once he was finished they practically glittered in the low light, and Band'lur nodded with a hum of approval before heading back outside.

He scaled the walls of the Hut easily, coming to perch on the roof like some misshapen Gargoyle. The sun warmed Band'lur's scales nicely, and he allowed himself a moment to relax. Here no Titans could get him, and this was a place that Ydis could not reach. He purred in contentment, the sound akin to rocks tumbling in a pepper grinder. For a little while, Band'lur was free to enjoy peace. He knew that it wouldn't last forever.

But he pushed aside such philosophical musings in favor of a more pressing matter. The Gulls had finally caught sight of the Lizardman's scales flashing in the sun and drifted lower to take a gander. It was common knowledge, that birds were complete idiots. They knew nothing at all and were drawn to shiny objects the same as any other creature. The perched atop Band'lur, taking comfort in the warmth that his sun heated scales exuded. They set about preening themselves and warbling in their silly bird speak, while others pecked curiously at the Lizardman's glossy scales.

One Gull, wandered onto Band'lur's head and gazed about in that strange bobbing way that birds did before stepping onto the man's snout.

It was sadly, the last thing the Gull would ever do.

The Lizardman struck faster than the eye could follow. His jaws opened wide, startling the Gull into flight. But it was too slow. Crushing jaws found the poor creature's feathered body and crunched down, sending the rest of the small flock into a frenzy. The escaped with their lives, at the cost of their fellows. Band'lur crunched and chewed, humming in contentment as warm blood stained his jaws, dribbling down his chin and onto his chest. He occasionally spat out feathers as he ate the unfortunate bird live and while, his tail flicking in obvious pleasure.

A single Gull wasn't exactly filling for the Demi-Human, but it took the edge off of his hunger. Besides, the sun was warm, and the breeze pleasant. The Lizardman was content to sit in the sun and let his scales be warmed. And he knew that all he had to do was wait. The Gulls had taken to the sky in their fear, but once the Demi-Human fell still again, they would return. They always returned.

Because birds were complete idiots.
 
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Name: Ryland Nustram
Race: Human
Date/Time: Spring; Morning
Location: Witch's Hut
Tagging: no one

Ryland listened without speaking, his right hand finally working on the last joint of his armor. The wi- Magi answered each question as it suited her; or didn't answer them at all. In normal circumstances he would've been more insistent she, but the wreck that was his left arm made him still. Burst veins, wounds where chinks of the armor embedded into his skin and the entire thing an ugly blue-black bruise. Still, it could've been worse; without the armor, he may have lost use of the arm entirely.

The witch passed by him as she collected her ingredients, paused at his side as she assessed the damage. Without preamble she handed him a salve and some cloth, assuming he would know what to do. Considering he was perfectly lucid and one arm was perfectly functioning, he saw no need to request their help. He headed over to to a bucket of clean water, grabbing using one of the clean rags to disinfect the wounds. Returning to the table where his armor lay in pieces, he looked to the small jar. Gingerly he opened it; a far more pleasant and familiar scent emanated from the salve within. He remembered using something similar as one of Belvedere's commandants once ran an apothecary. However, the smell of the mold-like substance that was being used on Leon was quickly overpowering his sense of smell. He had a suspicion that the stench would stick if he remained. Quickly slathering his own salve on, he placed the jar back where he saw the Magi take it, and turned to their elven comrade and their savior.

"Ynyri... Gwendolin," He inclined his head in respect to the elder. "I'll just be outside. Call if you need some help."

The Guildmaster stepped out, and instantly he felt relieved. He didn't dare admit it, but the smell was the last reason why he wanted to leave the hut. It was because the atmosphere reeked of death. If not that, then the reality of their finite lives. He breathed in the smell of the sea, and instantly felt just a touch calmer. He found a seat constructed of some driftwood, its polished top looking well worn. He imagined Gwendolin occasionally sat out here to admire the view of the ocean as he did now. It was a greener sea than the deep marine of Ascott's, but the feelings it evoked were all the same. Idly he wondered where everyone was, briefly debated looking for them, then decided against it. If they'd wanted to talk, he'd made no secret of his current location. They would find him if they chose. For now, he was content to simply absorb the moment of respite they were given.
 
Name: Annelia Lastelle du Lema
Race: Human
Date/Time: 7:00 A.M.; Spring; Morning
Location: The Land of the Titans
Tagging: Euaion Euaion , Ramjammer Ramjammer , RI.a RI.a , The Black Knight The Black Knight . Axel The Englishman Axel The Englishman , fluticasone fluticasone


This one has a witch's eye.

The woman's words seemed to echo far past their existence, resonating within Annelia's mind several times over. Even in her pained state, the brief betrayal of surprise flickered across her mien, disappearing as quickly as it came. This figure, forever far away from home and civilization not only opened Annelia's eye without fear of what she might find within, but also spoke of it with familiarity, as if in that moment she had found a long-lost heirloom in the hands of a new caretaker.

There was nothing Annelia knew or could say that countered the witch-woman. Her eye had brought her little solace over the years; even now, closed and unused, the orb seemed to burn in its socket, spurred and livened by the elder's recounting. Strange, it was, to have encountered what might amount to a kindred soul in a very different home and body.

Annelia maintained her silence, partially out of respect, and partially due to her inability to pull herself away from her own churning thoughts. Lema and the surrounding mountains were home to craftsmen and townspeople; magic to them was the skill with which metalsmiths worked their tools, the flickering of forge-sparks leaping from coal and flame, and the glinting of the rarest treasures of the earth. The sparse library of the forward keep spoke of magic only in whispers, and though she could only imagine what books might line the many shelves of the Chateau Lastelle, there was doubt in her mind that there were books on magic even there. If the world beyond Lema did indeed carry the disdain recounted by the aging woman, then there would be no telling whether even the greatest libraries within the Last Kingdom's castle would possess as much knowledge as the witch right before them.

Annelia had barely placed enough thought towards her eye to keep it covered amidst her many thoughts, sheer habit serving as the only safeguard against fleeting illusions with the loss of her eyepatch. Even her Truesteel blade was gone, lost to the sudden churning of the ground that revealed their supposed victory as mere survival. Even with those assembled, power alone likely would not be enough to best such a monster. It was a wonder that its power over the earth itself did not extend to the kingdom.

What blessing could possibly lie upon that city?

By the time the knight had finally brought her mind back to her body, several of her prior companions had split off to find their own forms of rest. Her single seeing eye tracked the slightly-scaled demi-human as she tended to wounds, before slowly rotating to lock itself upon the witch-woman instead. "Honored Elder," she said, the timbre of her tone lacking in its natural command and gravity, pain and fatigue taking its toll upon all aspects of her body, "I know you wish to speak more of Ydis and other such matters next sun. But I would hear what more you can tell me of this eye as well, that I may use it to greater effect." She momentarily clenched her now-scarred hand, perhaps hoping she could somehow feel her own recovery. "And perhaps avoid making mistakes similar to this one in the future." She pushed herself to her feet with a grunt, forcing herself to stand on her own as her hand slowly abandoned the support of the nearby table. "If I might aid you in your healing and preparations as repayment, please allow me."
 
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Name: Ynyri/Niri Allementhium
Race:
Demi-human; snake.
Date/Time: Spring; Morning.
Location: Witches Cove.
Tagging: @.everyone

Ynyri fumbles with the salve for a moment, startled out of her thoughts. Her focus shifts to the contents in the jar, curiously tilting her head as if to question what was in it. But she hadn't commented, so not to be rude. Gwendolyn, the witch - the Magi, spoke of things she never heard of before. At least, not in a humans view. Had humans always suffered ignorance?

Ynyri glances over to watch Anne's face, coming to a conclusion on why she is so aloof and stern. She had to make herself stronger because her own kind couldn't understand her. Weighted sadness burdens Ynyri's heart at this thought. Everyone had faced hardships beyond what she had gone through; before and after the calamity. And for this, she cannot fathom the pain they had all gone through. Her ears perk to the sound of Rylands voice, turning her heas towards him. Her eyes catch his arm and she mentally kicks herself for not being attentive towards him. Her brows furrow but she gives a gentle smile, nodding. "I will be right out to give a proper examination of your arm." She tells him just before he leaves.

Ynyri is ever gentle in applying the salve, her eyes occasionally looking up to Anne's ever stoic face for a sign of discomfort. Little was to be concerned over thankfully. At Gwendolyns request, Ynyri had made due with just a tiny dollop of the salve. Before she could admire her work, Anne pulls herself up to stand, alarming Ynyri.

"Anne, wait. You're not in proper condition for this." Ynyri frowns, her hands up in case she must steady the Knight.

Concern shifts to curiosity as Band'lur seems to have returned briefly, rising the question on if he had second thoughts to his examination. A moment later however, all was answered as he plucked a somewhat clean cloth and oil off the shelves and proceeded to rub it onto his scales. Ynyri chokes on a breath caught in her throat. She looks away quickly, hiding her face with her long hair. If she wasnt cold blooded, she would be flushed red like a cherry.

Band'lur's footsteps leaving made her look slowly back towards the front of the hut. Was this something she was going to have to get used to? Ynyri thanked the stars above that there were other females within this party. She sighs softly, calming her nerves just enough to tune back into what was going on.

Though, Ynyri wouldn't ever say it, Band did have some beautiful scales.
 
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Tagging: Axel The Englishman Axel The Englishman Ramjammer Ramjammer RI.a RI.a _Line 213 _Line 213 fluticasone fluticasone Euaion Euaion


Gwendolin was frank with Anne. “What more do you wish to hear that you don’t already know? I was not there when you were conceived. You and the eye have grown together. I just know a witch’s eye when I see one. I must tend to this one with haste, but perhaps in the morn after I prepare your party with Ydis that you will show me what your eye can do.”

When she spoke of aiding her, Gwendolin uttered a short laugh. “Do what you feel you must.”

Before Sunrise

The night hadn’t felt rough until Leon awoke with a startled gasp. When his eyes opened, he saw nothing but darkness. To his right by the entrance, he could see a dull, blue and white hue of the creeping dawn outlining the door of the shack. The wooden table he barely recalled laying on was still beneath him. Wherever he was, the entire room was as quiet as a mouse. When he attempted to even raise his head, he felt the sharp, painful tug of his damaged muscle fibers that immediately screamed at him to stay down! Swallowing some mild anxiety, Leon’s pupils thinned to slits and the darkness gave way like parting overcast. As a demi-human, he could see and his amber orbs swept the room for the others. There was an odd, potent and peppery smell on the air. His eyes lowered to his chest and he detected it smeared all over him, seeming more like a vapor rub than a cure to his pain.

The pain made him breathe a little harder through his nostrils. He couldn’t move. He was bedridden for sure. Was his quest over? No. Leon scowled. There was so much more he needed to do. It couldn’t end here. He had barely done anything! Ydis and the rest of the gods were still alive. His lips rolled back, baring his sharp teeth as he attempted to move his limbs out of frustration and stubbornness. The fingers of his left hand walked and clawed at the table top, reaching the edge where they curled and tried to shift his shoulders over the table. He felt so heavy and paralyzed. He felt his muscles pulling like rubber bands waiting to snap. He got the edge of his left shoulder over the side before he had to stop to breathe. He was panting swiftly, his heart was racing.

Stubborn fool…

The voice made Leon jump a little in startle. A warm, fiery glow bloomed at the base of a large cauldron in the center of the hut and from behind the great pot was a small, old woman. She hobbled over to him. Her bone trinkets emitted a hollow clatter. “Your body needs time to heal,” said Gwendolin. She set her staff against the table and rested her bony hands upon Leon’s shoulder. Leon’s eyes were wide in fright at the woman’s wrinkly and aged face. She looked like a dried date! Unfortunately, Leon had slept through the exchange of pleasantries.

“Unhand me!” he hissed.

Gwendolin simply slapped his shoulder, causing the big cat to wince. She then shoved him back onto the table. “Perhaps I should have let you succumb to your injuries. You were dying. Did you know that? You were in a dead man’s sleep. If not for the tall beautiful lass and the slender gal, then you would have passed on. They stayed up late with me until we were able to stabilize you, but if you keep trying to move, then you’ll continue tearing your body apart when it’s trying to heal.”

Leon stared surprised, lost and confused at the ceiling. “Did everyone live?”

“Their injuries are minor compared to your own. They should be resting like you.”

Leon closed his eyes as tears escaped the corner of them to slide down his temples into his hair. “I won’t be able to fight, will I?”

Gwendolin grabbed her staff and stared at him solemnly. “That depends on you. You have a decision to make. You can allow your friends to go forth and destroy Ydis without you, which would give your muscles time to heal. Or you could go fight…I have something that will aid a stubborn one like you. However, it is the armor of a wicked man.”

Leon then recalled his armor. His eyes opened and his brows rose. “Where is my armor?”

“We removed it, and I stored it away. It was heavy and contributed to your injuries.”

Leon scowled. “And yet you would rather me wear this cursed armor?”

Gwendolin shrugged. “I would rather nothing, boy. I tell you only your options. If you wear your golden armor, then you may succumb to injuries again. You will not be able to move anytime soon wearing it either.”

“But I can with the other one?”

Gwendolin stared at him. Both of her hands clutched her staff as she rested her cheek upon them. She could see that Leon was thinking deeply about the proposal and she couldn’t help but cackle behind a smile. Leon glared over at her and demanded, “Why do you laugh?”

“Because you are such a fool,” she replied.

Leon’s nose wrinkled as his eyes gleamed. “For wanting to get off this table! For wanting to fi-”

Gwendolin slapped her hand over his mouth and her eyes narrowed. “Hush boy. You’ve already decided without realizing it.”

She removed her hand and turned toward the cauldron; however, it wasn’t the cauldron she evoked. “Come,” she commanded.

The steps were heavy. They thudded beneath the floorboards, sounding as though someone was climbing stairs. The floor next to the cauldron rose, folding in the form of a trap door. Posted against it was a black armored hand, which was connected to a full suit of armor. The armor was black, thorny, and hollow. It moved as though there was a person within it, but why would the hag hide a person in her basement? The black armor marched over to Leon’s tableside and halted. The ends of Leon’s blonde hair stood on end as though his hackles had raised. It felt so wrong. His animal senses were telling him that it was a bad idea. He swore he could feel the wicked presence emanating from it.

“Get it away from me,” Leon fearfully demanded. “Who possessed this armor? Why do you have it?”

Gwendolin held out her hand, waving at the steel shell dismissively. The armor turned and marched away from Leon’s tableside over to the wall. It turned until its back faced the wall and it sat, wrapping its arms about its legs.

“I do not know who possessed it. When Meteor fell, it came to me. I believed it to be fleeing the disaster and seeking shelter here. Whoever wore it has perished and his armor is all that survived. The one who died was an evil thing,” Gwendolin admitted. “Why do I have it? The armor came here and has done nothing more but rest. I have no reason to turn it away.”

“And yet you try to offer it to me.”

“I am offering you a solution to match your stubborn desires. You either rest here until your comrades return dead or alive, or you wear that,” she said pointing at the armor.

Leon closed his eyes and a bestial growl rolled from his throat as he shared his frustrations, “Why couldn’t you heal me? You’re a witch aren’t you?”

“That’s right. I am a witch not a doctor, priest, saint, or miracle worker.”

“What’s going to happen to me if I wear it?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re terrible at reassurance.”

“Because I reassure nothing. I don’t know what the armor does but move on its own. It needs a master.”

Leon fell silent, lying there with his eyes closed as though he were hiding from the decision. Everything about the situation made him feel uncomfortable and there was nothing that he could tell her. She said that he already knew the answer and she was right. He wanted to keep fighting, and he didn’t want the others to go without him. What if they needed him? What if they didn’t succeed without him? Then he would be without a powerful group to help him destroy the other gods. He had already given up so much; and now his body. He was still alive. The last thing he had left was his life.

“I’ll do it,” Leon declared. He opened his eyes and scowled up at the ceiling. “I’ll be its new master.”

Gwendolin looked over at the armor. The black armor was already on its feet, having heard Leon. It separated into pieces, floating aloft before it rushed to envelop Leon’s body.

The Morning

Gwendolin didn’t have much to offer for breakfast. She didn’t own any animals. She had only the ocean beneath her, and the shore in which Ydis guarded. She survived on very little being small and feeble, but her guests were probably used to surviving on much more. She could only give them a rice porridge. A congee. They had the option to put dried fish meat in it or to make it into a sweet breakfast with some honey. Congee, tea, water, or coffee was all she had. The table Leon had been laying on became the table for the meal. Leon was looking pale and the flesh around his eyes dark. His body was encased in his new armor, which had allowed him to move without putting weight on his muscles. His body still ached, but instead of drinking water, coffee, or tea—things he would have preferred to drink with the rice meal—he was instead drinking a strange tonic in a wooden vessel that made his face scrunch up every time he sipped it. It was his continued medicine that he was supposed to take to help heal his tissues and filter his liver and kidneys. Long story short, it made him piss like a race horse.

The witch had been preparing her cauldron. There was a concoction which on the steam that rose from it created images of the land. There was a vast mountain range that was difficult to make out at first, but Gwendolin revealed who it was in case the party could not understand. “This is Ydis,” she explained. Upon that reveal, the mountain range resembled a colossal man lying on his side. Half of his body was submerged in the ground as though it were slowly sinking and the range appeared to stretch for miles. “He is trying to become one with the planet so that he can rule it. His children are the Titans who you have fought and the Stone Men. The closer you get to Ydis, then the more dangerous he is. But not because of him. The Titans bud from his rock flesh and are created on his whim. You will face an entire army of them, but you should not focus your efforts on fighting them. His weakness is his Ore. There is a great magic, which radiates from it. I can feel it now. If you kill Ydis and claim the Ore, then killing the other gods will be much easier.”

Prince Destinian looked up from his porridge and blinked. “Is that it? You’re asking us to risk our lives, fighting through an army of those things in order to rip out the god’s Ore? How do you suppose we do that? It’s suicidal!” He was wearing the black eye Luna had given him, which was about the only injury from combat he had received. Compared to the others, he was untouched.

Gwendolin slowly blinked her eyes looking down at the prince (despite being shorter). Her attention coldly returned to the others. The prince’s mouth hung open in offense that she would ignore him. “I will fly you as close as I can. You will need to blow a hole in the god’s stone side. You should then be able to enter within him, but it is the Stone Men who will be waiting. If you thought the Titans were terrible, the Stone Men are much worse for their deceit. They can appear as anyone. They will appear as your comrades to fool you and stab you in the back. You…”

She pointed at Anne. “You should be able to see through their deception with that eye of yours. It will come in handy.”

“And you…” she looked to Niri. “I have something for you.” The witch removed from her robes a necklace with a small glass jar on the end. Within the jar was a glowing fly. It radiated light and darted about the jar. Gwendolin walked over to Niri and held it out to her. “This is no ordinary insect. It’s magic. The sun fly has the power to light the way. Use it when you are lost. Use it when you are seeking someone. Use it to scatter the darkness and bring clarity to the mind. It will protect you and the others around you from madness. You can use this to find the other gods if you wish or to find someone you’ve lost.” Dropping the theatrics, Gwendolin muttered, “If you are wise, you would use it to find the Ore.”

Gwendolin said what she needed and expected questions. She looked to Anne, knowing that the girl wanted to show her what more her eye could do. She hadn’t forgotten. “Finish your breakfast child, and we shall convene outside.”


GM Note: This is a resting period for the characters to heal and recuperate. Unless some writers opt to sandbox for a few posts, the story will continue on the next GM post.
 
Last edited:
596001Name: Band'lur Wallbreaker
Race: Demi-Human
Date/Time: Spring; Morning.
Location: Witche's Hut.
Tagging: Open.

Sleeping hadn't been easy for Band'lur. The Lizardman hated open water, especially the deep kind. The Ocean was wild, it was dark and it was absolutely unpredictable. Not like the earth, sturdy and unmoving. Or, that was how it used to be. Band'lur used to be able to trust the earth. He used to rely on the stones, and was safe in the knowledge that the Mountains would never crumble. That their comforting shadows would loom over his head forevermore.

Clearly that had changed. The stones that the Lizardman once called brothers were now looking to grind him up, leaving nothing but dust. In all of his wildest dreams never did the man once consider solid ground an enemy. Nor did he ever think that the open ocean would be the safest place in the world for him.

Band'lur had tossed and turned the whole night, barely sleeping if at all. The wooden roof of the Witch's shabby Bungalow was a solid enough surface for him to lay on. But the lapping sounds of the waves and the constant smell of salt in the air served as a reminder of where he was. It was an utterly unnatural environment and no matter how much he willed it, the Lizardman's instincts did not allow him a moment's peace. Despite their Host's assurances of safety, it was certainly hard to feel that way. And the man knew from the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach that it'd be a very long time until he felt safe again.

And so, dawn had greeted Band'lur with the man looking grumpier than ususual. Breakfast was an incredibly subdued affair. Gwendolin wasn't prepared to entertain guests for an extended period, as evidenced by the meager meal she prepared for them all. It didn't really matter to Band'lur. Bad food was better than none at all, and given his lack of sleep he wasn't exactly spry enough to catch himself a better meal.

The Lizardman sat there, slumped over in his chair and looking positively miserable. Every so often he'd punctuate his half hearted meal with a yawn, exposing his fangs.

The only comfort he recieved, if it could be called that, was that his companions didn't look too much better. They'd been patched up admirably but it was clear that the aches and pains that tended to follow a battle had caught up with them. The only one who could claim to be mostly unharmed was the Prince, though the shiner that Luna had given him definitely stood out.

All in all they were a mess. Either bandaged heavily or looking too exhausted to be up and about, much less waging a war against the God.

Leon looked particularly worse for the wear in Band'lur's eyes and the wicked looking set of armor he wore wasn't helping his case. The thing looked rather sinister, a stark comparison to the gleaming armor the man had donned the day before. He didn't particularly like the look of it. All sharp edges and dark metal, the suit looked ready to come alive and stab Band'lur the moment he turned his back. And that was to say nothing of the smell. The Lizardman knew the stench of death well enough, and Leon's new garb reeked of it. The man inside looked about as happy to be wearing it as everyone else was having to look at it.

"That damn thing is cursed, isn't it?" He finally asked, chewing on a strip of dried fish as he eyed the blonde haired man warily. "I can't believe you got this boy out here runnin' around in cursed armor. If he loses his mind and tries to shank me, 'm gonna be real upset about it." The Lizardman groused as his tail thumped the wooden floor heavily. It was bad enough the ground that he walked on wanted him dead. He didn't really enjoy the idea of contending with one of his allies going off the deep end.

It didn't really matter however. Certainly not to Gwyndolin, especially now that the deed had been done. She was more interested in what lay ahead of them all more than anything else, and Band'lur bregrudginly resigned himself to whatever else the shrivelled old woman had planned.

The Lizardman peered into the wavering smoke, his brow scrunched in concentration as he beheld the sleeping form of Ydis. "Ugly sumbitch, isn't he?" The man huffed lowly. His gaze snapped momentarily to the Prince, and the Lizardman scowled visibly. "We don't have to take him with us, do we?" He groused before he resumed staring at God's shimmering image.

Fighting the children of the Gods was one thing, but fighting a God in full was something else altogether. Band'lur considered how they might do such a thing, and given that Ydis would spring forth a near endless font of his awful children, he knew that they'd all have their hands full.

"Deceit, huh? Well that's only good so long as they look the part, right? They can't possibly know everything about the person they're actin' as." The man mused aloud, a claw tapping at his chin. Finding and digging up Ore was easy enough. Band'lur had lived in the mountians long enough to understand the particulars of it. He was also far more at home in the cramped tunnels and passageways of a Mountain than out on the open sea.

"Well, we can figure that out once we get there. Fighting is easy enough. Not sure about blastin' a hole in the bastard though. I'm hopin' you have somethin' that might help us with that?" Band'lur leaned back in his seat to regard the witch with interest.
 
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Name: Luna/Tatiana Yurievna
Race:
Demi-human
Date/Time: 10:30 A.M.; Spring; Morning
Location: Witch's huts
Tagging: Everyone

The night felt a lot longer than usual. Luna felt drained and welcomed sleep to take over, but couldn't seem to escape to the unconscious. Frustrated, she huffed and got up. Silently climbing up to the roof, she hugged her knees as she plopped down, glaring at the neverending salty waves. The moonlight barely lit up the island. The only indication of life was the medical hut; soft amber light flickering through the windows. How long has it been since the only sounds in the night were nature (albeit foreign to the woodland girl)? Her pale skin was exposed to the night air in her sleepwear and the salty breeze knotted her raven hair. Her mind wandered to the day's events. The titans, the centurion, and the eye so big she had thought it was the depths of the earth; Ydis. The prince's bruised face, tugged her lips into a mischevious smug. Then the red raven who brought them here. She had thought they had defeated the god, but the centurion was a mere soldier. How were they going to take down Ydis? Were they strong enough? Or were they just fools? Even if the witch knew a way to defeat the titan god, Luna still had her doubts. After all, they suffered tremendous loss in their numbers, they were injured... and they retreated.

A dark, evil aura was suddenly unleashed, making Luna's ears pop upright and her attention to the source. What was that? A cold chill ran down her spine, making her skin pickle and her heart race. What is that?

She didn't know what it was, but she saw Leon engulfed in a dark armour that reeked of death and hatred on the witch's table. Did she just curse him? Should she warn the rest of the group? Anne and Yniri was still resting in the hut. The group was in no condition to run from the powerful magi. And even if they did, they'd be dead within mere moments. Not wanting to linger around the dark magic any longer, she retreated back to her own lodging. Unable to relax the rest of the night.

Luna was dressed in her suit and weapons as she stood near the door the next morning. Her arms crossed over her chest and her tired, red eyes glared between Leon's armour and Gwendoline. She didn't take a seat even after the rest of the gang gathered. Though her interest rose as the witch explained Ydis' weakness and proposed a strategy with images formed by fumes from the cauldron. The plan was easier said than done and the loudmouth prince was the first to complain. Maybe she should have cut off his tongue instead. Luna smirked at the lizardman's comment. "We can use him as bait." She added softly. She would much prefer to leave him here, but putting him in certain demise would be much more satisfying.

Band'lur also seemed to have noticed the evil seeping out of Leon's new armour... Or the stench. "Explain that thing, magi. Is he the same soul as he was yesterday or is that something else now?" Even without her feline instincts or senses, anyone could tell Leon didn't look like half the man he was.

"We're going to need to train together before we face Ydis again. We can't afford to fall apart during battle." Luna had meant they needed to be foolproof, her vocabulary may have put her argument in a roundabout way, but she was sure she got the point across. She needed to know that they could count on each other. The six of them had proved their individual strengths, so could they strengthen each other? Luna doesn't know. They did just meet 2 nights ago.
 
Name: Annelia Lastelle du Lema
Race: Human
Date/Time: 7:00 A.M.; Spring; Morning
Location: The Witch's Haunt
Tagging: Ramjammer Ramjammer , The Black Knight The Black Knight , et al.


It was unclear whether Annelia had slept at all the previous night.

If she had, she had awoken early, the clenching and unclenching motions she used to work her hand now a mere step away from nervous habit. She wore fatigue upon her features, yet her motions spoke in contrast, possessing her same natural briskness, as if she had found respite after all.

The one thing she clearly was for most of the morning, however, was silent. The weight of what it meant to face Ydis had sunk into her far deeper than she ever would have expected it would, her mind turning over the newfound gravity of their task long before their early briefing began. It was, indeed, all she could do to focus through it, her worry remaining buried behind her practiced show of nothingness as they all gathered around the table and beheld the Witch's knowledge.

This was not something that could be walked away from. Yet, Annelia could not help but find herself somewhat surprised that no one tried to do so--not even, it seemed, the most injured amongst them. Time would only tell whether the demi-beast would ultimately regret whatever it was about that armor that kept him standing--that is, if his injuries themselves did not win out sooner. Perhaps, in another time, Annelia would have commented in surprise, or even in shock, when she saw the man stride forth in markedly different, no doubt magical garb. Yet, given all they had suffered through already, it felt like little more than another cobblestone on the avenue.

Her attention turned quietly toward two of the others as they spoke, the briefing having concluded itself in a quicker, blunter fashion than she imagined it would have. As the Witch called to her, she snapped from her thoughts, only then seeming to recognize the meal she had taken with thanks earlier on.

There was much on all their minds, after all.

"...Given the strength that you showed in battle, one would think that you yourself would be capable of clearing our path," Annelia eventually said, her single open eye turning toward the lizard-man shortly after he spoke, "if you believe yourself incapable, then there is only one compound to my knowledge which might have the capability to perform such a feat. We know it well in Lema; light enough of it, and pack it tightly, even the strongest stone gives way. I know not if we will have time to make such a journey, or source what is needed to make it--" her eye flicked to Luna, then, "--especially if training sessions are in order. I do not know if my Eye would withstand the creation of such a thing, after yesterday."

The mention of their prior ordeal brought her mind back to the Witch, then to the bowl of food still waiting in her lap. She was not hungry, but an odd mixture of discipline, the knowledge of their tasks ahead, and the desire not to disrespect their host, somehow managed to give her the will she needed to down what she had been given as she returned to her prior silence.

She stood, eventually, setting the bowl aside (it would be hers to return to and clean, of course), before nodding to the old woman, and stepping outside. The sensation of such a breeze trickling in through the light garments she wore beneath her usual armor reached beyond the unfamiliar and into the strange, the lack of her usual mantles distracting her far more than the unfamiliar landscape as she took proper stock of all which surrounded the elder's hut. A sigh followed her long, deep breath as her mind turned to the sword she had lost after collapsing on the field.

It's a mere blade, Annelia. One of thousands upon thousands.
 
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Name: Ynyri/Niri Allementhium
Race:
Demi-human; snake.
Date/Time: Spring; Morning.
Location: Witches Cove.
Tagging: @.everyone

Yniri slept much later than her usual time, sitting out of the shared area for most of the night in hopes to see her bird return. It never did.

Upon morning, she appeared distant and barely touched her food for a while as a number of things invaded her mind. Questions on the whereabouts and conditions of her father, her ability to face Ydis and the other gods after him if they succeed, and why exactly was Leon up and about with some... menacing armor. Her eyes studied the gruesome armor, finding it alarming as it contrasted the knights original one. Band'lur's comment had her absently nod her head in agreement before she could stop it and she sheepishly poked at her food to avoid any further rude scrutiny over Leon's armor. She ate slowly as conversation continued.

The image of Ydis had cause Yniri to pause from taking another bite of her meal. Her brows furrowed lightly, a rising discomfort crawling on her skin. The nagging question on if she is capable as her other companions. Everyone was adept in close combat in some shape or form aside from her. She hardly ever engaged so closely with enemies or prey. Ydis' children are a standing hostility - and after him, the elven queen had many children of her own. Yniri twisted slightly in her seat, as if she were to stand up and leave but remained rooted in her seat. Her magic was slow and required much energy. She was hardly able to keep up with Luna, let alone Anne, whom wasn't completely reliant due to the circumstances.

The inner doubts and worries were cut off when Gwendolyn addressed her and handed her a necklace containing a beautiful firefly. Ynyri took it, eyes shimmering to the glow of the bug. "Beautiful little one." She chimes mostly to herself. The sudden lack of enthusiasm from the old one had made her stumble on her words and sink into her seat as if she had been scolded. "Yes ma'am." Ynyri nods obediently. Perhaps, after Ydis she can search for her father... She cups the jar where the fly dances slowly in the jar, watching it with a distant gaze.
 
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Tagging: Axel The Englishman Axel The Englishman Ramjammer Ramjammer RI.a RI.a _Line 213 _Line 213 fluticasone fluticasone Euaion Euaion


Leon turned to frown softly at Band'lur when he made his frank assessment. The lion's nose wrinkled and he replied, "I won't stab either of you in the back…" He mused on what he said and replied, "I won't let it stab anyone." He then explained, "I chose to wear it. It was the only way I could continue fighting. If any of you died without me, then I would be angered to know that I would have to endure this fight alone. We are all that is left of hope."

He then rumbled a growl at Luna when she suspected he was different. "I am the same. Nothing possesses me."

Gwendolin said, "There you have it. The same stubborn puss."

Prince Destinian huffed at Band'lur's complaint. "Of course I'm going you dried scab. I am a prince of the remaining kingdom. I must do everything in my power to save my people."

He then frowned at Luna when she insisted he was bait.

The witch answered Band's suspicions. "Aye. I have gunpowder but not much."

"A keg at least?" Leon queried.

"A small keg about the size of a melon."

"That may not be enough. We would need several pounds of explosives to blast a hole in a mountain. My light blade would only scratch it."

He then listened to Anne's proposal. "We could send a small group to fetch it. We don't all have to go. The rest of us can remain here."

"I fear we have little time. Ydis is blind to the water, but his children can search the world without sleep. He now knows what you all can do. He will comb the terra searching for the God Slayers while they are weakened."

Leon growled in frustration. "So we lack time now. If we use are last breath to slay Ydis, then the world will be blind to us. We must win back the land before he claims it!"

"Hush. You will prevail. All of you stubborn fools have survived this far. Do not worry. I have a plan."

Gwendolin met Annelia outside. Her staff thumped upon the floorboards and her bones and bobbles clattered. She walked several feet to stand at a distance before her. The ocean lapped and hissed beneath them. Gulls giggled overhead. "Open your eye, child. Let me see its magic."


GM Note: This is a resting period for the characters to heal and recuperate. Unless some writers opt to sandbox for a few posts, the story will continue on the next GM post.
 
Name: Annelia Lastelle du Lema
Race: Human
Date/Time: 7:00 A.M.; Spring; Morning
Location: The Witch's Haunt
Tagging: The Black Knight The Black Knight


The stone-like knight slowly turned part-way, her lone open eye swiveling to face the Witch's form as she appeared. With a slight sigh, she looked back to the open view, continuing to rest for another silent moment as she shut both eyes.

A light groan came from her as she opened both eyes, denoting the presence of dull pain as her Witch's Eye sprung to life. She reflexively reached a hand up toward it, only to slowly lower it again as she grew more accustomed to her brief distress. "...It tends to ache if used too soon after something like what I've done," she replied, brows furrowing as she continued to acclimatize to the orb's silent protests. With a deep breath, she raised her right hand, turning the palm upward as she looked downward into the water, studying what lay below in silence.

Then, she looked to her palm. Clear, crystalline water spilled forth from her hand, bubbling over the side before shaping itself into a simple sphere. Darkness swirled within the shaped water, taking the form of one of the strange, wriggling beings growing just beneath the surface of the waves, colorful in the clear replica of its surroundings. Stones shaped around it in turn as Annelia tilted her head to the side, taking another deep breath as she pushed the continued throbs of her supposed gift aside. The sides of the water-sphere crystallized slowly as a colored fish took form within, the manifestation of a noble's curiosity now sitting in her hand, filled with the riches of the deep lying just beneath the creaking boards upon which the two stood.

"...There is no reality to this," the illusionist finally said, the light glow of her revealed eye flickering against the ripples of her false creation. "If you touch it, it will feel real. The hardness of the glass. The coolness of the water within. It will spill if you turn it, and break if you drop it. Should I decide so, you will even see the oils of your fingers smudge against the glass as you hold it in your hands." She stepped forward, slow, and pensive, reaching the offering toward the Witch. "Yet, there is nothing it can do to you, not even if you were to shatter it and drive the shards into your flesh. It might hurt, and you may see blood, but no harm will come to you."

She slowly lowered her hand after the fish and its bowl had been taken, allowing the witch to observe the non-thing at her leisure, should she will it. "There are times when I can solidify what I make, though only for a moment, and...as I have learned lately, sometimes at great cost." The fingers of her afflicted arm twitched lightly, sensitivity present, yet the burning and pain that had wracked the limb for hours gone, at least for now. "I have long thought that all I am capable of stems from this eye; I know little of magic as things stand, but I have been unable to do anything else all the same."
 

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