Fantasy The Sundering Star

[TheLoyalAcorn]

Raebyrn grimaced, as he watched his most recent... summons die at a small hamlet. They didn't heed his words and treated this like a great adventure. Thier skulls would adorn the palisade outside the towns wall and much to Raebyrn's scorn a constant reminder of a failure.

"I told you they would die." Lyian spoke as glided across the room. He crossed his arms as he watched the beyonders meet their fate. A look of disgust crossed his face. "Didn't you tell them not to go to Equitor?" Raebyrn grunted in response before pushing past Lyian. He grabbed a box full of chalks on his way out to the main room.

The main room was large with a domed ceiling. Book cases were shoved aside to allow space for a large magical ritual drawn in chalk on the cold stone floor. The ritual was drawn in a pentagram. Raebyrn walked to each of the five points to wipe away old symbols with new ones with a plethora of color and new chalk. All the while Lyian spoke.

"Summoning another group won't help. Few can survive our world if you haven't noticed. A group of those from our world usually end with violence trying to kill one another.... I'll give them 2 days no wait 3!" The barrage of complaints the mage worked uninhibited as he made precise strokes and sketches before speaking as he finished.

"My friend" Raebyrn placed a hand on Lyian's shoulder. "Have faith in me hmmm? We're here aren't we?" Lyian rolled his eyes as he walked away and grapped a soul stone from a table and tossed it to Raebyrn who deftly caught it. A smile crossed his lips as he gently placed it in the center of the circle. "Last one Rae"

"Then we better.... make... it count" Raebyrn paused each time to whisper or draw a new rune. He carefully walked out the summoning circle. The moment his feet crossed the boundary he saw the circle glow and change colors. A wind entered the room as Raebyrn smiled. Lyian only scoffed and leaned against the table waiting for the new 5 heroes to appear.

For the pair this was another mark on a dozens of summons. For the world, this was the mark on the annuals of history. For our heroes this was end of their lives as they knew it.

Spoiler

Raebyrn

Lyian

 

[Ashside]

Charles had been having a fairly regular day all things considered.

He woke up in his room of the soon to be established first ever “Lady Blackwell’s Home for the Unfortunate” it was a secret project of his that he had been funding for quite some time and though his mother wouldn’t see his honor of her memory he’d make sure that the chance that she gave him was one that he’d give to hundreds and then thousands of children from all across the globe.

He had looked about his temporary bedroom, soon to be permanent office, and noted that despite it’s vastness it was still lacking in furnishings, much like the rest of the “home”, with the exception of his instruments and his bed the room would’ve been an empty space of beige.
.
.
After going through his morning routine of getting clean, getting dressed, due the required maintenance on his instruments, and eat a light breakfast.

In the future he’d reflect on this moment, and wonder what his life could have been. He could’ve rejoined a professional orchestra. Maybe been a bit less of a cock to his little brother. Attend his mother’s funeral. However none of that would happen, because on that misty morning a fee minutes after a brief period of rain Charles Blackwell would vanish from this world.

He had placed his violin in it’s case and he carried it with one hand by keeping a firm grip on it’s handle since he was about to go tutor some rich person’s child on how to properly play the violin. Otherwise the brat would be learning from someone that wasn’t the best.

He was dressed in his rain coat just in case so that his dark blue vest, and pristine white dress shirt wouldn’t get soiled in the rain. His dress pants, shoes, and socks matched his coat in that they were all black.

He didn’t notice the runes appearing beneath his feet at first, but when he was suddenly unable to move he thought that something weird was happening, but he didn’t have much time to dwell on that because before he could even form the thought to question what was happening a column of blue light surrounded him, and he was gone.
.
.
.
When he exited the column of light he found himself in a room with people that he didn’t recognize. To test something out he tapped the side of his leg with his left index finger. Good. He could move, but that didn’t mean much given that he wasn’t much of a fighter. Instead he took this as an opportunity to see what exactly he had on his person with his eyes.

His violin was still in it’s case since he noted the all too familiar weight of the violin inside it’s case, and he had all of his clothes on him which meant that he was probably not in any sort of immediate danger, and his reasoning for this was this.

He was still in his own clothes, and he had freedom of movement. If he were to hold someone hostage or wish to do them harm he would’ve separated them from their belongings to ensure that they would feel no sense of security or familiarity and them being in their own clothes still in possession of their things would lead to a sense of safety one associates with their familiar belongings, and giving any prisoner or captive freedom of movement was a surefire way to inspire conflict within unless you were sure of two things. You could either easily stop them or you genuinely mean no harm.

Charles believed both to be true, and so he chose to wait for someone to speak up and hopefully explain what exactly happened to him. He doubted inaction would put him in line for any sort of harm brought on by....whoever the hell brought him here.

Spoiler: Appearance

 

[Meme Machine]

A sickening feeling came over Calista during a small scuffle inside the bar that she had so eloquently started. She had been trying to get a plan for where to head next on her journey to get away from her old home, the wind always catching its ashes to follow her.

A man in his late thirty’s had offered to buy her a drink, and while most days she would accept a small gulp for an unfamiliar buzz, she knew she needed to be good and sober in order to get an early start on her journey the next morning. Besides, she was only nineteen. This resulted in him attempting to push harder for a drink, and eventually he grabbed her. Calista, having already had a bad day, shoved him off of her and declined more sternly. The second time he grabbed her, she punched him in the face. A bloody nose and some profanity’s later, several men and two of the serving women were wrapped up in a brawl. It was uncharacteristic for Calista; she was usually very nice and friendly.
Calista herself was strong, not so much that she could be a heavy lifter or even be thrown into the pits and gladiator fights she had heard of. No, only the type of strong that allowed her to well hold her own against a drunken fool. She only had a small cut on her cheek from a piece of broken glass that had gone flying, and a slight bruise on her shoulder from being slammed into a wall.

Calista dismissed it as a simple headache from being shoved into the wall and being flipped over the bar table itself, until she felt a strong punch to the gut, and she was thrown across the room (again). The feeling lasted for a few moments, until she appeared in a new room. She rolled across the room a little, and on reflex came to her knees. Her head reeled, and whipped her cheek with the back of her hand, smearing some blood across it and her face. Before her stood three men, all with dark hair and two had warrior like stances. At first, Calista believed they found her, the evil people from her not-so-past-past. She leapt to her feet, drawing from the sheaths strapped to her back twin sickles, each having black leather handles with instructions scribbled down in runes, the blades no bigger than the length of her forearm to her thumb. She balanced herself so her stance was strong, and she had a good distance from the men.

“Who are you? Are you with the Kithin? How did you find me?” She fired off questions in a slight Spanish type accent, her eyes searching for any threat. Books were placed in cases all around the dome shaped room, with few weapons that Calista could see. When she saw no immediate threat, she calmed down a little. However, she didn’t know who these people were, and as a reaction stayed in her defensive stance. Her sickles were welded with experience, almost 16 years of it. As she waited for a reaction, she allowed her eyes to size up the people in front of her. She knew if they wanted a fight, she would loose. There was no doubt about that. But one of them seemed almost as confused as she was.

Spoiler: Calista

Calista has two of these.

 

[TheLoyalAcorn]

Raebyrn clapped his hands as much to his own surprise 2 summons had arrived in only what could be assumed as a few hours. He gave a slight bow ignoring their shocked faces before introducing himself. "I'm Raebyrn the man who summoned you here. Its known as... the Scholar's paradise. My friend here is Lyian." Raebyrn waved his arm around the huge room. It would be more apt to call it a library upon itself. It did stretch out for a reasonable distance in every direction.

"I have a task for you. Alas, I'm sure you have many questions so do ask. I would be a terrible host in my country if I let you wallow in ignorance."

Lyian crossed his arms and looked at the two summons. A look of displeasure crossed his face before he spoke. "Hardly the best catch we've fished from the worlds" he walked away heading to the arms room.

Raebyrn was undeterred his face wearing a bright white smile. His right hand clutched his staff while his left laid idly by his side. "And to answer your question. I know not of which you speak, and I found you in what can only be explained as a very.... unrefined way."

 

[Ashside]

What. The. Fuck.

Charles hadn't exactly been expecting the rest of the day to be normal given that he had apparently summoned to another world if the man with the staff, Raebyrn he mentally corrected, was to be believed, and he was inclined to do so considering that he just saw a woman seemingly appear from practically thin air, and roll and pull some sort pair of mini scythes from her back. Reflexively he took a step away from her too stunned by the very present threat to his personal safety being the, most likely, Hispanic young woman with the very sharp looking weapons in her hands. Though once he saw her relax slightly he stayed a healthy distance away from her as he looked at the man who, presumably, summoned him here. Since he told him to ask away well then ask away he was going to do.

"I have a few questions. Why was I specifically summoned? Who is she? How were we summoned? Was it magic, or science? If magic do we have magic? Can you send me back? Is anyone else getting summoned? Have you summoned people before us, and are they still alive?" After listing off just the questions off the top of his head he decided to take a moment to eye the girl with the mini scythes once more not feeling entirely safe with her having those things out.

 

[Meme Machine]

Calista raised an eyebrow at the man with the staff, the one calling himself Raebyrn. She relaxed in her stance, but didn’t dare put away her weapons. A slightly confused look came over her features as she took a look around the room. The dead were everywhere, but they weren’t bored or angry as she usually saw the spirits. They were happy, and curiously reading the ghosted versions of books they had in their clutches.

Usually, Calista wouldn’t allow such a thing to bother her. The dead were a normal part of life for her. But something about how many of them were here and just in general what they were doing was..... confusing. She wanted to voice her confusion in a question he probably wouldn’t know the answer to, but then again, she knew nothing about him.

“I..... I am Calista. And to be honest, I must thank you for summoning me when you did. I’m was caught up in a bit of a skirmish and you might’ve saved me from having to harm someone.” She stood up straight, her speak for some reason elegant, however low class she looked. A slight smile graced her features as she ran a hand through her thick, curly hair, putting one sickle away as she did.

“And if you aren’t one who worships the Krithin, then I believe I have more to thank you for.” The scorched emblem on her forearm was slightly visible to anyone who looked, and a scar across her back was obvious with her higher cut top. She continued to look across the room, more specifically at the ghosts. Then she eyed the third man standing there. He asked a multitude of questions, and she laughed slightly. She then saw his unease at her weapons.

“And don’t worry, person who asks to many questions. I won’t harm you unless you give me a reason.”

 

[Felis]

Marguerite swiped away the call on her phone. Not now, Mother! She sighed in annoyance. Marguerite was a grown woman, and yet her parents kept calling her several times a day, usually when it was most inconvenient. Right now, she was at least not in class or in a meeting, but she would not be late to archery practice because her mother was nagging her whether she was eating properly (she was), doing well with her studies (again, she was) and that she should make up her mind whether she'd pursue engagement to her boyfriend or break off the relationship (no thanks to either option, but she'd make some agreeable comment nonetheless).

Her phone beeped again, but it was just a message this time. Telmo was asking whether she was free for dinner tonight. Marguerite typed a brief "sure", then added some emojis that hopefully conveyed excitement and a romantic mood. Could people please just let her go to practice now? The clock said twenty to three, so she'd be cutting it close already, anyway.

A look outside the window promised a sunny and mild afternoon, so Marguerite left her jacket on the hanger. A cardigan and scarf would be warm enough today. Marguerite put on some loafers, put her phone in her bag and half sprinted to the bus stop, only to see the bus drive off. So she would be late, after all. With a sound of frustration, she pulled out her phone again to tell the coach she'd be running late, when suddenly, a strange glow lit up all around her, temporarily blinding her.

Marguerite blinked and almost dropped her phone when she saw the unfamiliar scenery. Where was she? How did she even get here? Even though the domed ceiling reminded her of some cathedrals she knew, the architecture didn't fit. Was she dreaming? But this was way to vivid to be a daydream, and she hadn't even been feeling sleepy before... Also, she apparently still had her bag and the same clothes she had been wearing - that didn't sound like a dream to her.

There were other people here, too, most of them in clothing that definitely wasn't anything you'd normally wear in modern day Europe, but the weirdness of the whole situation and the fragments of the ongoing conversation she could hear made Marguerite hold off on thinking about that.

"...and are they still alive?" "...harm you unless you give me a reason." Yeah, nope. Whatever Marguerite had managed to wander into, this didn't sound like anything she wanted to be a part of. She didn't need any of those kinds of trouble, she had her hands full with the problems of her perfectly mundane peaceful life, thank you very much. Forget about how she had ended up here, leaving was the priority for the moment.

"Euh," Marguerite began, "Pardon the interruption, but I think I got here by mistake. If you could tell me how I get back to... anywhere near the campus, really, I'll be on my way. Sorry if I intruded on anything..." She held her hands up (one of them still holding her phone) and waved them slightly, gesturing a blend of "no thanks, leave me alone" and "see, I'm harmless".

Spoiler: Appearance

I'm really awful at finding pictures for characters... the one below kind of fits her hair colour and hairdo, though, so I'm using that one for the moment.

 

[TheLoyalAcorn]

Raebyrn smiled as he saw the trio before him. The newest member joining like a specter. This was unusual, many summons typically had a rough time during the summoning process. He turned to face the young man holding a case to address his questions ignoring everything and everyone. He learned long ago giving into the hysteria of the summons ended worse then if he acted like a benevolent wise man.

"This land is rich in magic. I don't know if you can perform magic, but we can find out easily enough. We will speak more on that once you all arrive."

Raebyrn pointed his staff at the young ladies with a wave intentionally looking uncaring at ripping the youths from their worlds. "I don't know who you are. A summon this... complex only leaves me a lot of guess work. None of you are special in truth, but your task is what makes you special."

Raebyrn began to pace around his new charges. His staff making pronounce thumps on the floor each step perfectly measured. "Yes there were other summons. A few of them live, A few not, a few I cannot tell alas that is the problem with age and experimentation. You forget each and every summon. I cannot send you back. I could explain why but I don't believe you would understand. It appears your time has little magic as I see you yourself asked if magic is real."

Raebyrn circled around them forcing them to move their bodies our heads if they wished to continue to see him. He ignored the fiery young woman and her earlier remarks to the curious one.

"Alas your gods no doubt have no power here. At least in the Scholars Palace. Only Salieri holds true strength here in the brightest of libraries." With a wave of his staff the room morphed with the domed room turning bright with golds, silks and other elegant materials. The book cases remained where they were, but now the room seemed to stretch even farther. The summoning pentagram lied still stretched and marked on the floor only on beautiful tile floors. Raebyrn used the parlor trick to then turn to the scholar holding a block in her hand.

"I have whom Salieri has decided I need. A harmless person does not mean they have a harmless mind."

The wizened man then stopped pacing in front of the scholar. "Now have I answered your questions?"

Spoiler

 

[Meme Machine]

Calista gasped at the size and extravagance of the room. The shades and ghosts were everywhere, acting like the room was a normal occurrence. She brightened up when he spoke of magic; She began to beg to whatever god reigned over this place that she had lost her own magic. Finally, she could hold in her own questions no longer.

“You may have answered his, but I have one of my own.” She stated while looking in awe around the room. “Why are there so many dead here? And can you lose magic when you come to this place?” They were only two questions, but they seemed to have a deeper meaning than just curiosity. The first question was a little...... bold. And definitely odd.

Finally, after several gazes around the whole room, ceiling, the floor, walls, all of it., Calista came back to gaze upon the man with the staff. She finally put her other weapon away, and gazed expectantly at the man.

 

[TheLoyalAcorn]

Raebyrn turned and twisted away from the other woman to speak to the younger. "My dear we are what you would call no doubt in your culture... an after life. Each ghost you see is a scholar who devoted himself to his work in his world, reality or realm. They gave their heart to find the truth and were blessed with knowledge and insights. When their time came Salieri gave them on final blessing. A chance to uncover every truth, lie and dream that could ever be imagined. A place outside of the trap known as the mortal realm"

Raebyrn backed away from the young woman. He calmly strode around the room to inspect a globe that had appeared during the transition. A look of boredom was on his face as he answered the second question. "You can see the dead can you not? Your magic is just as strong. In my reality, that's a highly advanced ritual to undergo. Without your patron God, you may find your magic a bit more.... tempermental" Raebyrn smiled as a way to reassure. He was glad he would not have to tutor her.

 

[Meme Machine]

Calista snarled when he mentioned a god. The Krithin had given her these powers that she didn’t want. It was no god of hers. She crossed her arms defiantly, and spoke in a tone like silk with venom lacing it.

“Patron god..... bullshit. I’ve learned how to..... wait. “ Her tone changed from hate to confusion. “Your.... reality? Do you mean to imply that this isn’t our reality?”

She uncrossed her arms, and looked at the man quizzically.

 

[TheLoyalAcorn]

"Ask the dead if you wish necromancer. You could spend days searching this world for the end of the library. You will not find it. This is the realm of a goddess. I intend to send you to my reality."

Raebyrn grabbed a spectral book from a ghost who hair hair seemed struck by lightning and threw it at the young woman in hopes she could catch it. He continued talking "I doubt your reality has the laws to allow such ghosts, such books and such a world be manipulated at a wave with little to no payment. I would also advise you serve your patron God well. Evil or good, alive or a whisper in the winds of my world. You'll need all the help you can get."

Raebyrn saw Lyrian return a scowl on his face as he held a leather bag slung over his shoulder and discarded it on a nearby table. The ghosts looked up from their reading annoyed and whispering to one another out of spite before slamming their books and walking away.

 

[Meme Machine]

Calista cackled as he said to serve her ‘god’. She laughed until her sides hurt and several ghosts gave her odd looks.

“I refuse to serve that thing. I don’t even want these powers. I have no idea what a necromancer is, but where I’m from, people like me are murdered.” She was blunt, that’s for sure. She had an air of happiness and kindness, yet she seemed like she could change in an instant.

Catching the ghost book, and flipping open some of the pages, she found she couldn’t read whatever was written there. She watched the ghosts get annoyed and walk away, and tilted her head slightly.

 

[Verena]

There was a nasty gurgling sound as Verena jabbed the dagger into the man’s trachea and dragged it across his neck, spewing blood all over his desk, documents, and florally patterned wallpaper. She almost felt bad for the maid that would have to clean this gruesome mess up in the morning. Verena held onto the man for a couple of seconds until the spasms subsided, then pulled her dagger out and gently lowered his head upon the desk. The poor sod almost looked asleep after a long day of work. Reaching into his coat pocket, Verena pulled out a small handkerchief and started cleaning her blade, all the while glanced over the contents of the bureau.

Aside from blood-stained papers and ledgers, she was quick to spot an intricately carved wooden box. Right next to it was a now crimson sealed letter. Returning the dagger back to its sheath that was located at her back, just under her black long coat, Verena picked the letter up. There was fresh ink just above the seal that read: “Deepest apologies, my love”, at which the killer simply smirked. Even though it was the countess who had made this contract, she would probably still want to read it, if a bit late. Verena slipped the letter into an inside pocket and turned her attention to the box.

Because this type of box was usually meant for jewelry, she already had a basic idea of what it might contain. What she found inside astonished her nevertheless. Sitting upon a velvet lining was a stunning golden necklace embellished with whole ten lapis stones. Verena carefully took it out of the box and examined it near the candle, admiring how it glistened and gleamed against the light of the flame. Perhaps the countess didn’t need to know about this apology letter and gift after all. It wouldn’t benefit either of them in any way, only lead to regrets. Leaving them here was also entirely out of the question. What a shame it would be if the investigators took it as bonus pay. No, Verena knew plenty of shady characters eager to take something as valuable as this off her hands, for a hefty sum of course. Unless specified otherwise, people like her usually got to keep what they found for themselves – only one of the many perks of the job.

Verena bunched the necklace up in her palm and was just about to pocket it into one of her belt pouches when she noticed the runes. She immediately tried to step away but found her feet as if nailed to the ground. Cursing her carelessness, Verena struggled to free herself but it was to no avail. A column of bright light grew around her, depriving her of sight. Because her eyes were already well adjusted to the dark, it took her a moment to regain her vision.

The first thing Verena noticed were the three other people standing close by in a large circle of runes. She quickly took the step back she was preparing all along and glided her left hand to the handle of her saber, ready to unsheathe it at any moment. Her other hand carefully slid the gemmed necklace into the pouch and went to the concealed dagger at her back. This distance allowed her to observe the rest of her surroundings, namely the other two men, one of which was clearly a wizard of sorts, and the massive library. Verena was outnumbered, that was more than clear, but her escape routes were limited as well. She would have to observe and listen.

At the very least, her outfit provided her with adequate identity protection. That is until she spoke. Currently, Verena could very well pass for a male. The hood and the mask of the black long coat were covering her facial features and the armor her more feminine attributes.

Spoiler: Appearance

My profile picture is about what you can currently see of her face.

 

[TheLoyalAcorn]

"To serve is a reward upon itself, you would be wise to always keep options open." Raebyrn was unbothered by the laughing necromancer. He was here to guide not demand. "Young woman. Where I'm from your kind are hunted ruthlessly. You would find better company in Kvitova"

"My friend please come out of the shadows and into the light." Raebyrn instinctively knew when one was summoned due to his personal connection to the ritual. He hoped he felt the correct sign or he may embarrass himself in front of the new summons.

 

[Verena]

Mages always made Verena extra cautious. The few ones she had met so far always spoke with such kindness, oftentimes even accompanying their words with a pleasant but deceitful smile. They also never did or said anything on a whim. Summoning them here wasn’t random at all. Seeing as a reaction was expected of her, Verena knew she could hide no longer. “You first.”, she answered simply, not changing anything else about her posture or demeanor.

 

[TheLoyalAcorn]

With a slight nod in place of a bow Raebyrn spoke, "I'm Raebyrn of Venn'dar. My friend here" he gestured to Lyian "is Lyian of Venn'dar. I summoned you for a... task I need done. My friend Lyian is here for...." a glance between the pair left Lyian rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath.

"I believe you came from my world. You will no doubt do us a great service to show your fellows how to navigate such rough... waters that is our planet."

Raebyrn casually showed her his left vambrace allowing the light to catch the seal of the Venn'darian Crest. He searched the new traveler for any sign for her coming from his world. The only tell was the usual fashion of the Kvassian Empire for more... successful guttersnipes. The only sign she came from his reality was the place she was summoned at. The runes for his world glowed brightly before it lost its luster. It wouldn't be the first time his runes... acquired one that wasn't what he wished.

 

[Ashside]

This was a lot to take in, and to his credit Charles thought he was taking it rather well all things considered. Honestly could you blame the guy? He'd just been whisked away by some magic man to some sort of afterlife, and apparently magic was real. His grip on his violin case tightened as he tried to keep himself calm as he closed his eyes, and took some calming breaths. Which weren't really that effective in calming him down all things considered, and honestly hearing that he couldn't go back home was very frustrating, and he would've had to fight the urge to pester the man with more questions, but he knew that at this moment in time there was no point in asking him anymore questions on how to return since if it was such a hassle to summon them in the first place then he probably wouldn't be able to-

And then another person was apparently summoned, but they were a ninja. Cool. Great. Awesome.

Deciding that since he was no longer in any sort of danger he decide to go to the only other relatively normal person in the room. He outstretched his free hand for a handshake deciding that he’d at least try to befriend the one other regular person in this supposed group of summons. His smile was sympathetic since her confusion at no longer being home was something that he could very much identify with.

 

[Felis]

Magic, summons, Salieri, necromancer... The terms spun through Marguerite's head where they failed to organize into anything that remotely made sense. Even assuming she'd found herself in the middle of some sort of fantasy story like the ones she read to relax, she didn't exactly have the qualities of a protagonist, did she? Was that Salieri being the local deity? If so, she apparently had an odd judgement of character. If only this turns out to be a dream.

Library was the most favorable part of the whole situation. Under different circumstances, Marguerite would have been itching to take a look at the titles lined up on the shelves. Right now, though, she felt like she was about to lose her mind, mostly thanks to one sentence: "I cannot send you back."

"What do you mean, you 'cannot send us back'?" she blurted out. "How else am I supposed to find my way home, if I may ask? I have work to do, appointments to keep..." She trailed off and ran her free hand through her hair. Yeah, it wasn't likely anyone here particularly cared about the deadline for her master's thesis or anything else of that sort. She might as well forget about these things herself, seeing as returning to them was apparently not possible any time soon. Merde. Merde!

Marguerite forced herself to breathe, slowly, in and out, trying to ignore the hammering of her heart that she could feel up to her ears. She hardly noticed the hooded person appearing in the room at first, but she did catch the names that the robed man gave afterwards. Venn'dar... was that supposed to be a place? Or some sort of order, maybe?

One of the other assumedly summoned people, the man in the dark coat with similarly dark hair, approached her with an extended hand and Marguerite reflexively stretched out her own to shake it. Was that an instrument case he was holding? The sight of a somewhat familiar object was comforting, and she managed a small smile of her own in return.

 

[TheLoyalAcorn]

Lyian spoke up his voice rough from years of telling at the top of his lungs and ushering harsh commands. His eyes flicked to the odd pair. The two probably came from similar worlds if the hand shake had anything to say about it. There was no hesitation, and the two immediately knew what to do for the social exchange. A moment Lyian noticed as in Venn'dar no one shook hands but hugged instead. A social interaction he quickly learned to be... uncommon.

"What Raebyrn means is he won't send you back and before you make death threats. Only your summoner can send you back to your world. I was Raebyrn's first summon." He rolled up his left sleeve to reveal his summon tattoo. A required tattoo for those summoned by a mage in Venn'dar.

"If we were in Savos, you would all be required to have a tattoo like mine. You're Raebyrn's property. I haven't seen my home in 3 decades." Lyian crossed his arms and searched for the beyonders reactions. Lyian forced the questioner to meet his eyes as he dealt the final death stroke.

"You are a slave for a lack of better terms. You aren't bound by pain, misery or some contract written by a layman. You are bound by the wish to return home. You're appointments no longer matter since only Raebyrn can decide to send you home."

Lyian's voice was cold and harsh. It was best they learned immediately. A lie only created hardship later down the road. A idea Raebyrn never understood.

 

[Verena]

“Another world, huh?” Verena glanced over the other summons. While the appearance of the curly woman didn’t really concern her, although the two sickles looked rather menacing, the two others certainly looked out of place. Their clothes weren’t familiar to her and both were holding some sort of strange objects Verena couldn’t recognize. Then again, mages had access to all sorts of weirdness. However, if they truly were from another world entirely… That would explain the odd greeting they exchanged. Her curiosity grew the longer she was observing them so she turned her attention back to the summoner and his assistant. At least the three of them were from a similar space in time. In this case, Verena wasn’t too concerned with going back home. They clearly weren’t summoned here to be sacrificed in the name of science. “I suppose an invitation would have been too mundane.”, she said with a hint of sarcasm and relaxed somewhat, her left hand just resting on the pommel of the sword and her right on her belt. “I’m called Morinia. This task of yours… We’ll be free to go as long as we complete it? Then let’s get to the point.”

 

[TheLoyalAcorn]

Raebyrn's face twisted in a smile at Morinia's forwardness. Ah perhaps, she will become the leader. Raebyrn gestured to the one point of the pentagram that laid dormant. Its siren song yet to catch its charge.

"You are missing a companion. I'm afraid you'll just have to tell them later what your task is." With a wave of his hand a scroll flew to Raebyrn's outstretched hand. He handed it to Morinia's hand.

"Are you familiar with The Sundering? Ah! Of course you are! I'm assuming you're old enough to survive at least 7 of them. What if I told you this Sundering would be worse then all of the Sunderings you've survived. Daemons larger than mountains! As numerous as the workers in the Kvassian farms! And the weakest as strong at the Nysinian's Tempered Scions?"

Another wave of his hand and ghost like miniature Daemons appeared across from a human army. The Daemons wailed in silence as they attacked their foe and tore apart the enemy ghost army fighting below the ankles of Raebyrn and his summons. The human army was all but routed. With another wave the miniature armies and prophecy disappeared.

"Morinia, I may be returning you to our world of Savos leaving you no reason to continue to serve me, but i believe you have a trusted interest to protect civilization as we know it. My task is simple. Prevent the world from burning"

Location: The Scholar's Palace
Interaction with: Verena

 

[Felis]

Well, the good news was that there was at least a chance to be sent home again, Marguerite supposed, but the rest of the new information was hard to swallow. As her initial confusion and panic receded a little now that she had more information, she fought down tears of frustration and anger which replaced her earlier emotions. It was infuriatingly consistent with her life that when something extraordinary happened to ordinary her, it was only so someone else could tell her "you're doing this now because I say so", certainly complemented with a package of expectations for attributes and achievements.

"Got it. Great," Marguerite replied flatly. Anything more and she'd either start screaming or break down crying.

She tucked her phone - likely but a very expensive brick here - back into her bag and took her first conscious look at the woman with curly hair and the one who had just introduced herself as Morinia. The first one had a pair of short scythe-like weapons, and had she heard correctly that she could see ghosts and use some sort of magic? Morinia carried a sword, as well. Marguerite could think of reasons why Raebyrn would summon the two of them. The man who had greeted her - well, if he was a musician, that might be an odd reason, but a reason nonetheless. Why had she herself been summoned, then? Aside from classical philology, anything she could do was on an amateur level, and nothing other than her still rusty archery skills came to mind, anyway.

Morinia asked about their task, and Raebyrn proceeded with an explanation. While Marguerite wasn't familiar with any of the terms he mentioned, "Sundering" sounded ominous enough on his own and the miniature armies he projected got the point across well, too. Saving the world. Of course. And what else would you like?

"At the risk of repeating myself, I really don't believe that I'm a person you intended to summon," Marguerite argued, fidgeting with one of her earrings. "You say you can't or won't send any of us back, well, I'll have to live with that, I suppose, but I'm not a fighter, and there isn't even any magic where I come from. I don't even know anything about your world, so what exactly do expect someone like me to do about your crisis, this 'Sundering'?"

 

[Verena]

Verena nodded and took the scroll. Before she could unroll it to see what knowledge it contained, Raebyrn spoke again and she listened. She had, of course, already witnessed a handful of Sunderings – first from afar, then as part of the resistance. With each passing event, the demons seemed to be getting stronger and more dangerous. Verena had already lost friends and colleagues to the attacks and was more than willing to help put a stop to it. However, if Raebyrn’s predictions were true, then what possible chance did they stand against such a threat? If the matter was not as concerning as this, she would have watched the tiny illusion at her feet with amusement. Sure, she could hide and wait it out but for how long? Would humanity even be able to recover after this?

“And you’re putting the fate of our world in the hands of five strangers?”, she finally spoke. Verena was certain that some of the summons haven’t even seen a demon with their own eyes. The strangely dressed girl with the unusual object she now put away confirmed her suspicion. Verena could only hope that the last of the summons was more experienced in the matter. “Do you at least have a plan or are we to go in blindly?”

 

[TheLoyalAcorn]

Raebyrn turned to look at the scholar. He pointed to the runes he delicately placed where she originally appeared from. Three runes stood out unique. A book, an eye and lastly a sun "I asked for a scholar. One who could understand my world. One who would have insights to make a difference without destroying what and who we are. A chance for hope amongst these dark times."

At the feet of each summon was a rune or two. He crafted the beyonders runes most delicately. They were not equals and weren't meant to be equals. They were meant to fulfill a task and that was it. He looked into the focused eyes of Morinia. His eyes displayed the twinkle of intelligence that led him to the Scholar's Palace in the first place.

"I do have a plan. You no doubt have heard of the Tempered Scions from Nysinia? They single handedly destroyed two of the 13 fallen stars. Each time they destroyed one the next Sunderings were weaker. I want you to destroy a fallen star. I would recommend building an army first. The Tempered Scions lost thousands each time and they are more.... skilled at such task than your friends."

Lyian spoke up from his isolated position. "The nations might be able to survive this Sundering, but we are at a tipping point. After this Sundering, it'll get worse and worse. All the while our nations squabble Kvassian. Now, Equitor has joined the ranks of these Daemons. I don't believe I need to spell out the problem with the Shield of the Sundered Wastes changing sides."


Location: The Scholar's Palace
Interacting with: Lyian and Raebyrn
Felis
Verena