Fantasy Well of Wishes | Main IC | [Closed]

[Anne Boolean]

Master Elizabeth​

Elizabeth scowled at the rebellious words spewing forth from Leone's mouth. "You're far too old to be speaking like a defiant teenager! I thought at least by now you would have learned the world doesn't revolve around you! Though I guess I'm not surprised... only those who are childish and immature would be foolish enough to believe in the Wishing Well!

"Bah! I don't care what the higher-ups want to do to you! If I had it my way you'd be free to pursue your idiotic endeavors as long as you don't disturb my research! Sadly though since you're taking part of this nonsense in my domain I have to deal with you, otherwise my chapter would receive even less funding than it already does! I swear, the people running this organization have lost track of what it was made for! We're called 'The Inquisition,' not the 'Order to Keep People From Pursuing Knowledge,' even if what you all pursuing doesn't exist! I joined and worked my way up in the Church in order to make discoveries, not to chase after-"

Her rant was cut short when Leone sent daggers flying towards the knees of the apprentice mages leading the pursuit. She let out a gasp, watching them fall, causing the ones following them to topple over as well. "Hey! Watch where you're aiming those! I need my apprentices in tip-top shape to help me with my work!" The orb in her hand started glowing and a gust of wind blew from underneath the pile of mages to bring them back to their feet. It continued to glow as the daggers disappeared and the wounds on the apprentices' knees healed. "You better hope that your daggers didn't damage and joints or bones! Healing that will be time out of my day, and the recovery time will be less time those two will be able to work! I ought to make you all fill in for them, but I can tell you all are more trouble than you're worth!"

Elizabeth watched as one of the women drew her own dagger and started channeling magical energy around her. Before she could lecture her about wasting her time though, the scent of raw sewage filled the air. "Disgusting!" she called out, pinching her nose. A few of her followers recoiled as well.

"The snake has gone into the sewers!" One of the apprentices exclaimed.

"Well if they all follow I'm done with this chase. There's no way I'm going to go scrounging around in the filth down there to pursue some fools!" She turned to look at one of the guardsmen. "And my apprentices are coming with me! We have better things to do than wallow in feces! Besides, the only place the sewers will lead them is out of the city, where they won't be my problem anymore!"

"What if they just hide out down there and come back up once we're gone?" Another apprentice asked.

"Good point. We'll flood them out to the end of the sewer lines!" she stated with a cackle.

Unfortunately for Elizabeth though, at least one of her marks declared that she would be staying above ground and fighting. The master mage let out a groan. "While I think you're sensible for not going down there, I do wish you would quit wasting my time!" Before she could react, the woman sent bricks flying towards her. Thankfully they didn't hit her or any of the apprentice mages. "You're lucky those didn't hit any of my apprentices! I'm already possibly set back a few weeks because of what your idiotic friend did to Nora and Milo, and I don't need any more obstacles getting in the way of my work!"

When the same woman mentioned escaping to the Eastern Gates, Elizabeth's face lit up. "Yes! Yes! Go! Get to the Eastern Gates and then leave Whaleshell Port so I can get back to my work!" she said with a grin. "Quickly now! We'll even help you!" She waved her hand to send forth another gust of wind. It wasn't strong enough to send them flying, but was able to apply enough force to keep them from easily moving closer, and to hopefully nudge them in the right direction.

Jet Taigakitt Sarahspn EldridSmith

 

[Jet]

​

Ayana tensed when the master mage bragged about sadism, and she wondered'How can you love making others suffer?' The huntress couldn't understand, because Forest Elves were compassionate sponges who sensed emotions, and Number-two was the exact inverse — someone who maimed for sport. Ayana despised people who acted that way, and everything about the Inquisition... or whatever the church called themselves. She pegged them as hypocrites, who passed sentences over nothing, using amoral agents for personal gain.

The northern church was despicable, and mounting rage exploded when the pale woman collapsed. Grabbing her wound Vanessa screamed and screamed, shouting "Oh my god it burns" and "I can't stand up" as tears welled. Raw emotions flew from the bloody woman, slamming Ayana who stumbled back, before focusing on enemies and how revenge would manifest.

Thankfully they were only down one, her second wounded teammate had strong composure. Ayana could sense a huntsman-heart below his sleek exterior, and once escapes were over she would make proper introductions. Kuma was doing well too, entering the foray with grace. Both hand to hand combat, and magework were covered by the mysterious woman who slapped around inquisition warriors. She also sent ice shooting across the ground, trapping feet. A perfect setup for ranged attacks.

"We will do nothing of the sort! You may hide your face, but not your horrible personality! If you want us to beg, you can make us yourself after winning!" declared the huntress, eyes locked on Masked-woman. Letting off wind arrows, she knocked men back from where ice anchored them, rendering them unconscious. Through every attack she maintained her angry gaze, staring down the dangerous enemy.

Once attacks and staredowns were over, Ayana looked her teammates' way whispering "We need to swarm the evil masked one, together we can win!" and running forward she sent two flame-arrows at Numbered-woman, hoping she would dodge and leave an exploitable opening.

Sarahspn Anne Boolean Lost Echo

 

[BriiAngelic]

• Roland Marek || Savanna Elven Street Kid

• 
  
  
  
  Tags:
  Lorrin ( Pik ) Obsidian ( Anne Boolean ) Lyleve ( Aelia Aeldyne )
  Richard ( Jet ) Puppeteer Captain ( Taigakitt )
  

  ~ Outside Cafe Near Lodge ~
  Drive || Roland's CS File
  
  Death? No, this was just supposed to be a run of the mill job… he couldn't imagine how it got this bad. He hadn’t even got to get anything on anyone either. He had one job and that was to suss out their new allies, and because he couldn’t do so fast enough he was now excommunicated. Oh no. Helena! He couldn’t figure that either of them had done anything worth excommunication, after all, he was a mugger before but he’d not done any of that since meeting Helena.
  
  He wouldn’t be separated from Helena, she was all he had left. If he was excommunicated then that made sense, after all he’d done terrible things before, but Helena didn’t deserve that. Worse if they didn’t try to excommunicate Helena she’d think he abandoned her if he got caught.
  
  Things only seemed to get worse as the larger elf spoke up. He was having a conversation with him up until the child soldier came up to attack them. At least she sounded like one, but that's off the assumption that she was of a similar humanoid species. The mercenary, Or was he a bodyguard, had moved forwards shooting an arrow out at the larger inquisition members. At least he wasn’t the only one put off by another child coming to attack them.
  
  He drew out the daggers from under his cloak and dipped them into the volatile compound that Helena had kept on them both. He didn’t much understand what it was meant to do but he remembered her saying it would burn them from the insides. He didn’t feel right using it on another kid but he wouldn’t go down without a fight.
  
  He slashed at one coming in to attack them before falling back. He would keep distance between them as much as he could. He was a savanna elf he knew he could out endure against them. He would just need to find a good opening to flee and find Helena. Until then though he kicked the cafe’s furniture creating an improvised obstacle course for them. It may not block much but any protection was better than being a sitting duck out in the open.
  
  
  

 

[RedLeftHand36]

Sir Erik the Tall

Even in his later years, sleep came neither easily nor peacefully to Erik Berard. In the middle of the night, the fires of war still sounded in his mind. Noise that no one else could hear, with the clanging of steel and the screams of men, the sound of ground and stone breaking, and the roaring of flame. In war, even the victors lose. In his room, alone, the man who was once arguably the greatest captain the Marsh Gates had ever seen, stood by an open window, and stared out into the stars with a smoking pipe between his whiskered and scarred lips. Occasionally he glanced at the organized heap of darkly hued steel at the foot of the bed across from the chair he currently sat in. The back of his mind had always screamed at him to throw it away. Throw it all away. But he knew fully well that it was not so simple as to give it all up and walk away. The rising of the sun stirred Erik from deep within his thoughts and memories, and tired eyes looked out towards the direction of the sea. There had always been something about the morning that strengthened the smell and feel of the ocean-side. The large man basked in this feeling for some time before feeling the unease of a hungry stomach. A moment later, he sighed, and got up from the chair, which audibly sighed in relief from being freed from under his weight, before Erik donned his armor once more, and headed downstairs.

The knight remained silent during the breakfast meeting, and kept to himself, physically isolating himself from the others while remaining in hearing range for what details were provided. It was much to his dismay that there were so many others joining along. It was awful, the noise, considering that it was morning. The idea of splitting into smaller groups, even momentarily, was somewhat appealing. But even then, the company of others, no matter how many or few, tended to test Erik's patience. Underneath the discretion of his helmet, he moved his eyes to see who he was working with: One of the birds from earlier was going to be with him. Which seemed fairly interesting. He had interacted with the girl even less than the boy, which was to say he didn't directly interact with her at all, but she seemed less likely to irritate him than the other two who he would be travelling with. The mountainfolk comprised the rest of their little squad, and even though they exuded competent capabilities, they were loud, and even worse, a lovey-dovey couple. As Erik ate his share of eggs, bread, and meat with his bevor down, he could already feel his face tightening from having to simply register their existence... at least they were all going shopping for weapons.

The late morning air carried the smell of brine on it, and the mist above their head glowed white as the sun shone behind the vapors. It was all as he thought it would go, but nothing but the disrespect of his privacy and wish for quiet. Despite his being teased, he did his best to simply pretend he was alone. Their travels did not be seeming to take particularly long either, as the merchants they were targeting for decent bargains for such a department of goods were not all too far from the lodge itself. As they browsed the wares, Erik wondered about his own equipment. He had kept the same gigantic sword since his military days, originally a piece of decoration, yet forged into something fit for warfare, as Erik's size made most greatswords look more like simple longswords. His armor, however, was relatively new; A gift from Lord Albert Idris upon his swearing of fealty. Fancy gift for silly theatrics, a common thought between the two, yet also greatly beneficial. Despite the various dents and scratches, the steel was so incredibly well made, that Erik was likely to die of old age before having to replace such armor, with the putting aside of extreme circumstances, which were fairly rare in the first place, and even more so with Erik out of warzones with trebuchets and ballistas. There were always exceptions, and with exceptions came close calls. But those were always learning experiences. Even allowed him an appreciation for explosives. Looking at the stocks of weaponry, he wondered if he'd ought to replace his sword. But what with? None of these swords were large enough for his preference, so a sword was outright out of the question. All he could think about was how small all the weapons seemed to be as he scoured them. He needed heft, and nothing provided that. The warhammers seemed to be the closest thing to what he wanted, but he liked skewering people into the air too much. It looked bad-ass.

And suddenly a voice.

"Erik Berard, Bjorn Hamrammr, Freya Hamrammr, Pelea Artith; You have been excommunicated and sentenced to death for seeking what cannot be controlled, and what cannot be found. As since the dawn of men — guardians of reality and guardians of peace. Quaestiones Aeternum"

The storming of fast-paced steps on the hard ground offered the idea of how organized they were. There were... well... plenty to go around, certainly. The majority seemed like hapless grunts, for sure. Quaestiones Aeternum... the Order of the Inquisition? The revealing of red uniforms confirmed this, and more than that, revealed that the minority certainly made up for the differentiating majority. These had to be the Guardsman Elite. All too soon did axes fly as the mountainfolk simply charged right in for the fight, obviously with barely any understanding of the situation. The bird seemed feisty too, but, upon a realization of sudden horror, had flew off to save her brother, who, citing her own words, was someone simply too nice for his own good. A simple piece of meat fodder had charged the towering knight himself, all alone, obviously desperate to show the others their bravery, only to take a massive boot to the face. Putting the grunt onto the ground, Erik held him in place with his foot and his immense weight as he unsheathed his greatsword, and slowly pushed it into the poor man's throat and into the ground beneath, letting it stand on its own, before Erik shouted in his thunderous voice, a voice that, when loud, seemed to make the very earth tremble from its intense deepness and might. He spoke, not only far more regal than he previously had to what few others he had shared his voice with, but with such burning ferocity and glaring assertiveness that it practically put the conflict to a momentary standstill.

"My name is Erik Berard; Captain of the Marshgates, and its defender for forty years! Lo and behold, for I have been outnumbered far more greatly, and have killed far more many with naught but my own hands! I will allow you this one opportunity to retreat, and only this one chance. I will give neither gentle nor honorable deaths to those who still fight. Heed my words: Hell is kinder than I."

Some portion of the lesser fighters paused before advancing, and whispers floated between them.

"Thats Erik the Tall," one muttered, before another answered.

"I heard he slayed seven Teutonics without breaking a sweat!"

The next man mentioned Marsh Gate conquests, and number four whispered about exaggerated arcane powers. Fear spread as poison from these stories, and others lost courage, but Corvus ignored his pathetic underlings. He did nothing when charged energy became lackluster The only unaffected men who noticed, were Guardsmen Elite. The well armored knights knew who the massive enemy was, but they saw an opportunity where others found fear. This was their chance to defeat a renowned warrior, and three Guardsmen advanced under the brewing magical storm. Together they planned to defeat the massive knight, for personal glory more than anything else. At the very least, some small amount of the expandable foot soldiers had been persuaded of an inevitable death, or something of the like. Erik wondered how the Inquisition dealt with deserters. Several of the ones who seemed out of place, obvious mercenaries, decided the odds were not enough in their favor, and had indeed fled, not only due to Erik, but the ferocity of the mountainfolk as well. But ultimately, the odds had barely shifted at all. And it did not long for what odds that weighed in favor of Erik and the mountainfolk has very much decreased in the next few moments.

"I must admit, you are strong and decent people from what we've seen. In our next lives, may we battle together instead of against one another! But for now, you will travel no further than these streets... My name is Corvus Kade, master battle mage of the Inquisition. I come from Ocora City, and have fought one hundred times without defeat. Know my name as you perish, so we may find each other in the afterlife and battle again!"

A maelstrom of arcane power began to storm around the one named Corvus, a hurricane of indiscriminate and powerful violence that heaved the very streetways from the ground, swallowing structures into its mass, and even pulverizing and killing Corvus' own... something even Erik found simply evil. But his eyes widened with a certainty he hadn't had in a long time: This fight could not be won. Erik snatched his sword from the corpse, tugging it with great force to break some small bit of ground that it was stabbed into, and carried it as he looked around to find a way out of this. And he had an answer just behind him: A stack of barrels of oil, bound by rope. Erik turned his sword upside down, and clasping it by the blade, struck down into one of the barrels with the guard of the hilt before bringing the base of the blade right through the knot that kept the holding net together, letting the barrels roll loose towards the aggressors. As quickly as he could, Erik once again flipped his sword to grip it by the hilt, and scraped the floor with the pointed tip with some good amount of force to bring sparks up and into the gradually widening trail of oil that led to the still in motion barrels.

"FLY YOU FOOLS!"

Though Erik's shout came as he ran off as quickly as he could, without specificity within, the cry was for the mountainfolk to flee as he was. But such a choice was their own, and Erik was unsure if they would make the right decision quick enough. He only hoped, and this hope was poured into his command. Though Erik was far from the fastest runner, especially with his armor, it was all he could do to hope as he ran. For them all to make it out alive, and for his impromptu plan to succeed in buying them time. Erik, however, was heading northwards, first. He had to make sure everyone else would get out alive, as well, and he was going to start with the man who was now going to pay him a much more generous offer than what was previously decided if that man wanted to keep his innards intact.

 

[Sarahspn]

Number 2 gleefully smiled underneath her helm and observed the event unfolding before her. She had lost a few mages and militia but they were early replaceable. Although she would get an earful from that hag, Elizabeth. On the other hand, she would be able to torture new recruits. It all evened out for her in the end. She laughed as she heard the sweet sound of agony coming from Vanessa. Kiel had sent blasts of magic towards her and she stepped to the side, dodging them with ease.

“Number 2, they want them captured alive.” A guardsman spoke up.

“I know that you idiot. They’ll still be alive when we take them. Just missing a limb or two. ” She said, annoyed. She noticed the uninjured females' legs shifting and the mage raised an eyebrow. She went to attack but the annoying sound of a prisoner's voice interrupted her. Quickly turning towards the source, she found herself staring at the dark-skinned elf.

“Me? Beg you? I've never begged a day in my life and I never will. Especially not to elf scum like you.” She snarled, her hands glowing as her rage intensified. The elf whispered a plan to the others and Number 2 laughed a little. She had sensitive hearing and knew what they planned to do.

She watched as the elf ran towards her, sending arrows her way. Standing her ground, she used the orb to create a wall around her of strong wind blowing upwards. The wind caused the flaming arrows to be redirected away and the wall dispelled. Number 2 stood there, her stance strong. She conjured her bow again and shot an arrow towards Ayana. The close-ranged arrow sliced the side of her arm. It appeared that the mage missed but she wanted this battle to last a little longer now that she was enjoying herself. Drawing another arrow back, she aimed it at the elfs stomach and awaited the perfect moment to release.

Anne Boolean Lost Echo Jet

 

[Aelia Aeldyne]

Lyleve Ferchgwynniael - Lodge group​

"Oh, come on !"

The words were yelled, escaping rather than brough forth. The heiress' mood was just soured and someone was going to pay. After all those efforts, after this spinebreaking journey she'd had to go through to reach this... filthy, depraved, beneath her notice, horrid, reeking, nauseating place, all she had wanted was a good night of rest before going out on an adventure. And now they were being arrested and supposedly summarily executed by some freaks in uniform ? She thought about it for a split second, and then she snapped, violently. The meek noblewoman was gone, it was the monster's hour. They wanted her life ? They'd have to pay for it. Gold, iron or blood - noble folks were similar to whores, they just demanded higher prices to provide their services. I hate it, I hate them, I will kill them There was nothing to be done now. Only fight.

She slowly sashayed forward, her gait still that of an aristocrat, a sleek and formal motion if only a bit suggestive in the way she swayed her hips - till she reached the forefront of her group of adventurers. Her face was a blank, a mask of porcelain worn by the till recently slumbering atrocity laying underneath. A perfect shape, sharp-edged but smooth in its surfaces, a skin of a shade of pale that even dim candlelight could not offend through its pitiful shine, silky vermillion hair curling back around her neck in short locks, strands waving idly - like the ethereal fabric of a bloody spectre, woven from liquid fear and excised infected blood, magnificent yet repulsive - and the eyes, bottomless green lakes, dull emeralds without light, deep green tainted by evil and sin, the progressively darkening shade of the irises a circular swirl around the indistinguishable pupils, hidden in those abyssal pits of soon-to-be-unleashed venom. Last but not least, a pair of scarlet lips, dyed a pure red that shone gently with pulsing blood, sensual yet deadly - or so should they be - now they were as a red garnet upon a stone mask, magnificent to behold, but mortal in their inexpressivity. And yet.

Insects, cockroaches, enemies, corpses soon

And yet, even as she sported this expressionless facade, the sheer contempt in her eyes was burning, fiery as the flames of hell, melting the apparent indifference of this artificial visage and revealing limitless scorn. They were but ants to be crushed under heel, the dust be damned and dispersed like the prayers of an apostate. They would pay, they would die, they would burn Carrying her words, her serpent voice broke the dams, and rage flowed out like storm-winds, words piercing like hailstones, coldest and hardest expressions of spite and resent. The gaze was unwavering, but the voice was trembling, the strength of the rage too intense to be controlled. The first words, at least. Confidence gained later, the rhetorical razor blade straightening itself.

"Do you know..." Whisper-like, low and nearly inaudible, but menacing like a summer storm, restrained but uncontrolled "Do you have the slightest idea... The slightest storming idea of what I went through to come here ? To be on this quest ? And then you come here like flowers in spring believing that your fancy coats and your floating magical testicles give you the right of high justice over me ?" The last word nearly made her explode in fury, and her gaze strained, eyes ever so slightly narrowing. "I'll tell you", she said, she threatened "I'll tell you what I had to suffer to reach this fucking backwater warren..." Crush their bones, drink their blood, smash their faces

"One week through the Darkwood, fleeing forward to survive under the canopy, seven days without sleep nor rest crawling in the dark, hoping not to be found by the beasts of the forest. You don't know fear, do you ? I bet you've been pampered till you could use your swords like canes alone, without mommy master holding you so that you didn't fall ? Always someone watching your back, always someone to tell you how to live ?" The pretty face turned into a scowl at the last sentence, the words cutting into the air like an hair-broad steel blade, acute and relentless, cold and merciless. "I haven't had a meal that wasn't poisoned since I turned six. Helps building vigilance. But I bet you've never had to be wary, to watch over your shoulder and make sure your friends hadn't been snatched by a monster while you were yawning at your guardpost ? You could never understand the Darkwood, greenhorns. It's your worst fears made flesh, reeking of curses and sacrifices. The soil there turns rust-red in winter, when the snow swallows the dirt and the blood seeps out from beneath. They say there are more corpses than fallen leaves. The monsters breathe down your neck, watching your every step, playful, friendly, till you make a mistake and then you're meat on the plate."

She made a short pause, inhaling.

"I butchered them. Carved my way through the wooden hell, knife in hand and rage at heart, I made it through by killing anything that opposed me, brutally and painfully. I devoured them. Slaughtered like pigs, eaten as such. Cut them up, cooked them up, gulped them down. Everything, down to the chitin. I was alone, so I ate even the bones. Had to leave no trace. You're nothing compared to that. You're just arrogant little men who think their cause is justified when in reality you're just trying to give an excuse for your power fantasies. You're just fragile little shits who have seen nothing of the world, and you think you can arrest me ? Ha ! Let me talk about the pirates when I reached the sea."

Memories surged in her mind, her journey to reach Centos. The waves, hitting the sides of the ship, the thunder roaring up high, sending shivers down the redhead's spine even with their mere echoes on the saltwater tide, the shadows of the dark, monstrous clouds upon the sea reflecting like maladive ghosts, haunting the tempest as if in search of poor souls to snatch and drag down to the depths. There was an endless supply of anxiety provided by the spiteful ocean, gnawing at the roots of her mind, making her soul shiver in anguish - her nails were biting into her palms, and the warm amber ichor of the wasp princess seeped down slowly, dripping onto the wooden floor with an absent thump, nearly inaudible. She didn't like storms. Never had. Storms were blind rage, mindless celestial madness directed at people who mostly did not deserve to suffer it. And then the high tide rose, and she was sent against the wall. There was a loud shock close to her ears, and then the darkness.

The memory was vivid when it continued. Blinking, gaze hazy, rough voices heard. Tossed aside, pain in the shoulder. Kick in the stomach, spitting blood. Dull pain in the back of the head. First voice. "This bitch still warm, Lark. Don't damage her too much. We could sell her to some freaks on the coast. Stone shore fuckers, would shag a riftling if they got off on it." Second voice, lazy. "She's dead meat, Roz. Not even the sharks would put their dicks in that, and I know what I'm talking about - I've done some." First voice again. "Yeah, yeah, you're the oh so great Lark Who Fucked The Sea, I know the story you spit it every time you're drunk, ya fucktard. And I still say the same thing, don't damage the merchandise. It'll be bought." Third voice, more commanding. "Been a nice day, men. Those merchants had spices and silk, and the other passenger will give a fine ransom." She could feel them, the gnarly smiles, the missing teeth, the wooden pegs in place of legs, the cutlasses - pirates. Third voice again. "Now, you two. Lark and Roz. I need the first passenger. The papers I found say that she's worth a kingdom at least. Not very tall, redhead, wearing black. Seen her ?" She could feel it too, their faces paling, their voices failing them. Lark. "Y-yes captain. Found her at the mast, she's dead." Captain, wrath. "WHAT ?" Roz. "Think she got thrown during the storm, cap'n. Her head's all red, and I don't mean the hair." Grumbling. "Fuck it, then. Just throw her overboard. She ain't worth shit, if she's dead. And no, I ain't giving a jewel like that to the degenerates." Grunting, men lowering over her shape. Bonk. Lark, very close. "Why you hit me you dumb fuck ?" Roz, angrily. "Captain wants to waste that marvel, I ain't having it. Shut up and pack her up." Blood, falling from a man's lip into hers... red haze over her mind... utmost violence, fading only in sight of the coast, surrounded by corpses. Ship sinking, she had to find a way to leave - thankfully there was a shallop to escape.

The memory faded, vivid instants revived in less than one second.

"The gods of the ocean are merciless and cruel, and I survived them. The pirates are cruel and merciless and I survived them. Chance, fate, whatever, I survived. Hair's breadth of having become a whore to criminal sailors, or ransomed for my mother's queendom, or both. But I bet you have literally no fucking idea of that kind of dread, don't you ? You sweet summer children. Never been at sea, never travelled under a fucking highstorm to go thousands of miles away from your home to find your literal only hope of surviving the year ? But noooo, all you care about is safekeeping your little paranoid secrets. How many riftlings you keep in cages for study, I bet... Probably less than a hundred, more than thirty. Wouldn't want that to be known, amirite ? So who and what gives you the right to judge someone you know nothing about and whose sole crime in your blind eyes is to seek hope and a future ? Don't be surprised when people turn heretical, you crazy ass zealots. Wailing hells, I bet you'd find my entire continent heretical if you even dared to set foot on it - but no, you're too fragile to endanger yourself in that kind of endeavor, aren't you ?"

Rage and spite were flowing out of the perfect lips like hellflame out of a demon's arse. Kill maim burn, cut up the survivors and leave only blood-dry husks behind She would show them, what it meant to die. If they wanted to kill, they should be prepared to be killed in turn. Even if you try to escape it, the world will enforce equivalent exchange. Dread it, run from it, destiny arrives all the same.

One leg sweeping behind the other, posture assumed. Daggers drawn, the steely edge shining in candlelight as it reflected the faces of the people. They weren't works of art, but nonetheless of good make - not centosian, that much was evident. No ore on the continent had such a clear grain, no coal mined in Centos could give such a pure metal in the end. The western blacksmiths used a very special coal mined in the southern regions, harder than anthracite, but also greyer, almost silvery. Some said it was the rotten bones of the old dragon kings. Lyleve bent forward a little, fully entering the dueling stance - Stance of the Aspic, the first one her duel tutor, a Chevalier from her homeland had taught her. Two blades of equal length in an icepick grip, held slightly oblique as to mimic a snake's fangs. Head lowered a little, arms raised by the same, hiding the temples behind the muscle of the limbs.

She blinked slowly, and then... Suddenly, a piercing green gaze, an emerald hue as light as the snowclouds, barely veiling shrunk vertical pupils. Chilly air ran through the area, or maybe was it just an impression. There was a beast here, coiled and ready to strike, lips thinned up in a smirk, fangs yet to be bared - or was there ? The only thing the soldiers or the senior mage could see was a woman holding two blades/

An enormous snake, coiled around several buildings, slithering with a buzz. Looking closer, its scales were wasp hives, teeming with the lives of the swarms. Dark amber, moss green and black ash, wrapped into one monster, and it was staring at them, unblinking. Its eyes... They were not real, only spheres of deep red blizzard slit vertically, beacons of spite, yet mild amusement. Prey, they were prey, they could not do anything. It was made of smoke and mirrors, dry blood to fill the holes, rot and plague in its maw... It towered, and it smiled. "Prey", they heard, echoing - or did they ?

/She spoke again, very calmly, her furor replaced by implacable determination. Blood would redden her blades today, and it would be theirs. "If you want me dead, you'll have to come and try. Else..." she sighed. "Else I will haunt your nightmares for decades to come."



Jet Taigakitt Anne Boolean BriiAngelic Pik

 

[Anne Boolean]

Obsidian​

The little girl answered her question by dropping the name of "The Inquisition." Obsidian was certain she had not taken part in that organization, but it seemed like this girl wasn't willing to listen. The man with the bow called out to her and confirmed her hunch, just as the troops surrounding the girl started to close in.

Obsidian stomped on the ground before her and sent a stalagmite piercing up from the ground underneath one of the soldiers with their heads drooping. With another stomp, a solid piece of earth levitated up from the ground in front of her, which she sent flying into two other soldiers making their approach. Rounding out her combo, she ran towards another nearby attacker and gave a swift punch with her stone-covered fists into his drooping head.

She then turned to see how her companions were doing. Two of them seemed to be ready with daggers, the little boy she had planned on speaking to even moving forward to attack one of their foes. Her heart went out to the child. If she had her way he wouldn't be put in a dangerous situation such as this, but she had her own plateful protecting herself at the moment. Thankfully he seemed somewhat capable. Hopefully that slash wasn't just a lucky strike.

The other one was a chatty woman, who seemed to have a lot to say about how fed up she was with her situation and eager to fight. Hopefully her bark wasn't worse than her bite.

"Many of these soldiers don't seem to have the strongest morale," Obsidian pointed out, taking note of their drooping heads and zombie-like movement. She would have suggested reasoning with them and hoping to come to an understanding, but it seemed as if they weren't even conscious.

Her eyes then drifted to the young girl in crimson acting as their leader. The self-proclaimed golem couldn't help but find it somewhat strange that these grown men and women would follow someone so young and unintimidating. Of course the girl's looks could be deceptive, and she could indeed be powerful enough to have a following, but the fact that she only brought two wooden crosses into combat with her brought up some doubts. Perhaps they were a means of channeling magic, and this girl was a powerful sorceress. If that was the case it seemed she wasn't displaying her power quite yet.

Perhaps some testing was in order. Obsidian threw a fist forward towards the little girl, in this sense quite literally, as the stone covering it shot forth towards her, staying molded in the shape of the woman's fist.

Taigakitt Aelia Aeldyne Pik BriiAngelic

 

[Anne Boolean]

Kiel Shan​

"Swarm the masked one. Right," Kiel responded with a nod. He slowly stepped around the pile of bodies that Kuma was piling up between herself and the the crimson mage, all the while avoiding attacks from the soldiers who were still up and able to fight. Due to the arrow that had pierced his leg, his movements weren't as swift and lacked their usual nimbleness, allowing him to take a few more hits and slashes from swords and clubs upon his torso.

"Sadly this isn't one of my better performances..." he muttered, wincing in pain. Despite the damage he was sustaining though, he still had a determined smile on his face.

The light-blue-haired man watched as the crimson-clad woman used the orb she held in order to create a wall of wind surrounding her. The flaming arrows that the elf shot at her were easily redirected upwards and extinguished before falling uselessly to the ground. If those were too light, perhaps some large rocks would do the trick.

As he spun his staff, two large, solid chunks of the earth in front of him floated upwards. He looked past them to the woman in crimson and saw her send forth another arrow towards the elf. It just grazed her arm, but the mage readied her bow again, staring intently at the small woman.

While her focus was on his companion, Kiel stopped spinning his staff and took a hold of it with both hands on one end. He pulled his arms back before taking a swing at the rocks as if he was holding a bat, one after the other. He had aimed them at the mage's torso, hoping to disrupt her aim with the bow or even disarm her, but also planned for, if the updraft was strong enough from the wind, the rocks hitting her head.

Jet Sarahspn Lost Echo

 

[Taigakitt]

The Champion Lodge Group
Involved: Anne Boolean BriiAngelic Aelia Aeldyne Pik Jet
​

The girl ignored the archer named Lorrin's comments. The arrow he shot out never landed on the man he shot. A twitch from the girl's hand might have been perceived before the arrow whizzed just by them, smacking a stone building and clattering to the ground. The man that was about to be the victim of the shot looked up at the leader, nodding. A few of her own archers let lose their own arrows at Lorrin, enhanced with precise wind, but the source may not be known.

Lips twitched again as another of her head-drooping soldiers fell, pierced by a stalagmite. She had shifted one of her crosses so one was in each hand. One hand in particular was starting to squeeze the middle of the cross harder. The earth that was thrown by Obsidian at two alert soldiers seemed to shudder, and instead of smashing head-on into them, crashed at their feet. The two fell, though their damage taken was lessened. The one that was punched with a stone fist, their head seemed to have crumpled inwards before falling.

Her face turned to look at the shorter person named Roland. Her unseen gaze seemed to linger a moment before she spoke up, "Do not kill Roland. Capture him." The one that Roland slashed caught fire, but no screams came. They just fell with a thump to the floor. A small twitch in the girl's hard set mouth might have been perceptible. The drooping headed people fell away from Roland, leaving fully-alert guards to run around Roland's little obstacle course. They had gone from swinging with intent to kill, to aiming at limbs, and spells thrown his way were the binding type. One of the mages had used a wind spell to grab up the outdoor furniture, throwing it up and out of the way.

As her underlings shifted their tactics on Roland, Angered words seemed to have reached the girl's ears, so her hidden face looked in that direction. Those words spewed from Lyleve. A frown seemed to fall upon the girl's lips, a clear drop of liquid falling from behind the mask, trailing down her chin at some point during that long drawn, anger-spewing speech. Setting her jaw, though her piercing gaze could not be seen, she spoke, keeping her voice as hard as she could, despite the small quiver in the tone, "You. Don't. Get. It."

Her face snapped towards the stone going towards her face. The girl threw an arm up, though she did not make contact with the stone fist. It was thrown off course to not hit her, crashing through a building nearby, leaving a sizable hole.

Her scowl deepening, she widened her stance, lowering herself slightly, her arms up in the air slightly, fists tight on the crosses, she roared, tears rolling down her face from beneath her mask, "YOU DON'T GET IT! AND STOP DESTROYING MY PUPPETS!" If she didn't have a mask one, maybe one could imagine a bright red glint in her eyes. What was obvious, however, was the dark aura surrounding her, and the drooping headed soldiers snapped back as she slammed her arms down, suddenly acting even less human than they already were.

She conjured up flames, surrounding herself harmlessly, though quickly taking the roof. She shifted her left hand, a drooping-headed solider following her unspoken command. It threw its weapon at Obsidian, the one who had smashed the most drooping-headed soldiers.

Mages threw fire, not at all close to par from their leaders, at Lorrin and Lyleve.

Rangers let lose a set of arrows, dowsed in oil, set to explode on impact with any flames the mages had set.

The girl took a deep breath, letting it out. Her perfectly styled hair was becoming undone, loose blonde locks falling out of their buns. The fire surrounding her seemed to breath with her, "DIE DIE DIE!" She wailed, her feet stamping with her words. Like a tantrum. Though her tantrum seemed to be powering up the fire that surrounded her. She gathered some of that pulsating fire into a fireball, aiming it right at Richard, the cause of this giant mess.

 

[Anne Boolean]

Obsidian​

There was definitely something unnatural about these zombie-like soldiers of her. When they were hit there was no reaction, no grunts of pain, no screams... nothing.

When the girl mentioned Roland once more Obsidian turned to the little savanna elf. Well, she would make sure his life was spared, but being taken captive wasn't much better. She tried to move over to keep the conscious-looking soldiers from harming the child, but was stopped when strong gales lifted the furniture that was strewn about and scattered it further away. She put her arms up, once again covering them with stone, to defend herself from the oncoming projectiles. The self-proclaimed golem stumbled back as an oncoming wooden chair made contact, but was still standing strong.

Her journey to help Roland was once again stopped before it started when she heard the little girl speak once more. Turning to see her, Obsidian noticed the stray tear at the end of its trail, just before it dropped from her chin. Puppets? Is that what she had just called the zombies? It made sense now: the crosses were control bars for marionettes, with the puppets being the soldiers with their heads hanging low. The stone elf felt regret as the aftermath of her attacks on them flashed in her mind. Hopefully they were reanimated corpses or something, as opposed to people who were being controlled and were able to feel everything their body was being put through.

The puppeteering wasn't the girl's only ability though, as she was able to redirect the rock Obsidian sent her way with a simple arm movement. Despite the power, as she continued to watch the little girl burst into a tantrum it become obvious that she was still just that: a little girl. She had taken a fighting stance, not unlike the stance a child takes when arguing with their parent, and her puppets began acting more erratic. The fire she conjured around her seemed to be a physical manifestation of her temper, and though it left her and her soldiers untouched, it took quickly to the building they were fighting outside of and spread to the roof.

One of the puppets threw their weapon at Obsidian, which she was able to sidestep, but not without getting slightly grazed on the side of her arm. She winced as her other hand moved to cover up the wound, and her eyes returned to the girl in crimson as she stomped among her and her soldiers' assault.

The stone elf took a deep breath, and found a stance of composure. It seemed unlikely they would be able to overpower their foe in this case, so maybe a different approach was necessary. "We don't get what?" she asked in a calm voice. "What's making you unhappy? We're sorry for destroying your puppets, but you are playing very roughly.

"And your beautiful hair has come undone. Perhaps we can be more gentle?"

Taigakitt Pik Jet BriiAngelic Aelia Aeldyne

 

[Jet]

​

Noxious fumes washed over Leóne, raising goosebumps across his skin as sinuses burned, tears welled and nausea peaked — 'foul stench' was an understatement. Whaleshell sewers smelled worse than underworld torture chambers! And going inside would make almost anyone choke down vomit, as they no-doubt wondered how can anything smell this fucking bad?

Liam however, was not almost anyone. He dropped down without hesitation, which honestly impressed Leóne! But would the veteran follow along? Hell no, there was absolutely no chance! Wading through sewage sounded less appealing than bear maulings, and based on how Gwen stonewalled the suggestion, she probably agreed.

Leóne was happy someone else chose normal escape, especially her. He would have backup from someone trusted, and he would cover Gwen closer than strangers would. But good emotions were masked when another smell crawled from the sewer entrance, making Leóne's face furrow as senses were overwhelmed again. He could damn-near taste bacteria, and having had enough he stepped away from the horrible hole in the ground.

"I think I'll take my chances up here. A week-old battlefield smells better than that tunnel" he jabbed, moving several paces down the alleyway, and looking around the area he searched for something they could use for escape. From doors to cross-cuts through the narrow brick canyon, his eyes scanned for useful information. Gwen however, was more focused on assaulting enemies as she barraged with loose stones, but unfortunately she missed — an unexpected showing. Leóne wondered about Elizabeth when pondering the miss, had she changed attack trajectory with magic? That would make sense, because Gwen was correct about the master mage, she was extremely strong.

"She is one dangerous old bat, that's for sure... Escape makes more sense without Liam backing us up" he answered as Gwen tossed flames downrange, and as Elizabeth continued her disrespect. Leóne was sensing unreasonable disdain from the master mage, probably because she called him an idiot.

"You know I'm quite smart when you get to know me, I once placed the square peg in the square hole!" he joked her way, words bouncing between close stone-walls, only for them to blow back when Elizabeth pushed storm-winds through the alleyway. Pressing group members back several feet, the aggressive gale packed rock shards and sand, random trash and clothing from laundry-lines. A true variety pack of random matter, slapping across mission member faces.

The storm also sucked noxious fumes from the sewer entrance, sending another wave through the alleyway. This time Leóne pinched his nose, anchoring his free hand against the wall for support against strong winds. And so obnoxious was the narrow wind-tunnel, that words needed to be screamed when Leóne added "WE SHOULD MOVE NOW, THE WIND IS AT THEIR BACK! WHEN THEY ADVANCE WE REALLY WON'T STAND A CHANCE!!"

Grasping Gwen's hand with tender strength, Leóne was committed to escaping the master mage. Combat movements would be impossible when maelstrom pressure hammered against them; running made too much sense. Lucky for the mission group, twenty meters away a cross alleyway cut across. There they could turn from the main corridor and escape the relentless hurricane. But who was coming along? Leóne assumed Gwen was, but what would Liam choose? Would he decide against sewer escapes without everyone else? And what about Saiwa, what would she decide?

Leóne would find out, screaming — "WE NEED TO ESCAPE THIS STORM, THAT CROSS ALLEY IS GOOD, ARE YOU COMING ALONG??"

The loud words struggled over screaming winds, barely reaching the noble dragon. Whatever Yo decided, she needed decisiveness because inquisition troops were advancing once again, and this time they had wind power backing their strides.

Sarahspn Taigakitt EldridSmith

(OOC - We can split into two groups or stick together too. Liam can also enter the tunnels alone. Don't worry if you end up alone for a few posts @ eld It'll be very interesting and same to you taiga if Yo goes with Liam )

 

[Lost Echo]

Kuma had contemplated death before. At home, it was always a possibility. Any Tanaka knew the lives of their family went before their own. It would have been an honor. Instead, another failure. After, well, the thought had come. With each failure to find a solution; when the loneliness grew too strong. It was there, percolating. The how occasionally arose to the surface. Return to Ruligark, for her punishment by now would surely bring death, but the stain of her dishonor would permeate her pack. A quieter death, one where she’d seek out the fiery heat she’d heard the deserts had. It would weaken herself that any poison she mixed would be quick to reach her Hokwin. Would she feel herself melt? Lose control of her form completely and begin to drip? There were times these thoughts were hard to ignore.

She’d never considered to die like this. With an opponent she knew outclassed her. Without anything to guard, to protect. Why would the others not flee? What was wrong with them? If they separated, the sadist could only catch one at a time. Even together space might bore her into giving up the chase. The only thing they were protecting were their lives, which would be better cared for with as much distance between the red clad lunatic as possible. Instead, these, these idiots wanted to charge her?

Kuma knew she should leave. She should rendezvous with Nezumi, who she could vaguely sense having arrived at the lounge--evidently they were having problems with insane people as well, and leave the town. She signed no contract, her name on a volunteer list not enough to bind her. This Inquisition's issue with her was this ‘quest.’ This was definitely enough of a lesson to deter her from looking. She was desperate, but not quite that desperate. Yet.

Somehow she found herself advancing forward. As the pale male went around her wall of defense (random bodies), she shifted her strategy. Most of the fodder were either down or fled (smart bastards) but with their leader focused on the elf, which was better than Kuma, she focused at her feet. Humans preferred even surfaces, with their weak soles. Using her bo staff as a conduite (something that strained it if used too often) she slammed the end against the ground. While the large chunks of rock reached the wind barrier, the surface of the road splintered beneath. Shards of rock shot up with the force, some within the shield while others were caught up in the wind.

She offered up a prayer. “Fernal, guide our weapons to victory.” As a Sacoro for Kul, she was still taught the ceremonies of the other Sakra. In these strange lands, Kuma had expanded her worship. Alone, she was at each Sakra’s whim and their fickle ways had to be appeased. Minua had given her a path as chaotic as Kul herself. Though the predators were strange within this land, weaker in many ways, Kuma had chosen the strongest she had found, killing it in Fernal’s name. She had eaten it, taking the blessing within her body. She hoped that strength would be enough to guide her today.

Jet Sarahspn Anne Boolean

 

[Pik]

Lorrin Yumi

Tags: Taigakitt Jet BriiAngelic Anne Boolean Aelia Aeldyne

Lorrin was shocked when his arrow did not land where he aimed, it should have been a guaranteed hit but just stopped mid-air as if ....... something hit it. He didn't really have time to ponder this because as soon as his arrow thrown to the side of course the girl's dolls shot a good couple arrows his way. "Shit!" quickly he rolled out of the way with only a few arrows cutting into his coat leaving behind tars "sigh just had this cleaned." Looking back over at the fight Lorrin couldn't help but feel a bit useless even if he shot more arrows they would just be reflected away again. It was very clear they where outmatch given the circumstances they would need to go into a tactical retreat, whatever this girls deal is it would have to be dealt with on a different day and under the group's advantage. Though he did feel bad for having to leave her it's clear this kid has some issues. "Roland! Lyleve! take Richard and get to the meeting spot now! We can't stay here any longer. Obsidian! hold her toys back long enough for me to try something then were following after them." After yelling out his orders suggestions, Lorrin readied his bow placing three arrows on to the string. Normally this wouldn't accomplish much even with the bows magic but the damage isn't what he needs. Aiming up the magical sparks would light showing it was ready to fire. He would then shot the arrows off in their different directions one hitting a market stall causing everything to land on most of her puppets, the other hitting a wheel barrel causing it to tool in their direction. And the last one went for the kid's head, he knows if it ends up landing he will never forgive himself but see her ability at work he knows it won't land. "That won't stop her for long, run now!" he yells back at the others and just took into the crowed not even bothering to see if his plan worked not that it matters if it did it was a distraction after all.​

 

[Taigakitt]

Yo Saiwa​

Yo was grateful that Leóne and Gwen were very capable ranged attackers. She didn't have to do too much but watch out for any sharp objects coming their way. Though, this group seemed to enjoy magic. And sliced knees were suddenly healed. Convenient.

She jerked when she watched a manhole cover go flying past her, smashing into some mages. That was accompanied by a scent she wasn't used to. At all. There was absolutely no way she'd handle going down where she saw Liam slither down into. She felt like her hardly-brave face was starting to go green.

"Urp... I'm joining... you guys. But leave me in the back. Trust me." She didn't think to let them in on her defensive capabilities before they had gone out. It wasn't something she felt she needed to disclose since they were just going shopping. Fighting wasn't at all on her mind prior to all of this.

With their announcement of wanting to head to the Eastern Gates, the old woman seemed quite excited at that prospect. At that, the wind seemed to pick up, and since they were in an alley, it might have made it stronger. Her outfit wasn't the best against winds, and the hem was blown up. A shriek escaped Yo's lips, as she attempted to keep her outfit in a modest form. Not only that, but the sewage scent got stronger. "...Urp..."

She heard the faint words from Leóne, who was letting her know they were going. She quickly turned tail and followed after them, trying to keep her breakfast down. "C-coming!" No longer did she care about trying to keep her outfit down as she followed after the couple. A twinge of guilt tugged at her about Liam, but he was probably capable in a sewer and was probably able to maneuver just fine. She'd just be slow and it wouldn't be worth it.

Mentions: EldridSmith Jet Sarahspn Anne Boolean ​

 

[Aelia Aeldyne]

Medical supplies group​

The medical group were a scattered mess of flies, flitting about an open environment yet staying within a given distance of each other. The tallest slicked back and forth, further in the back while he that held no sight simply followed the tide like a droplet of water lost in the ocean.

Each and every one went about their own business in their own manner. Pozou engaged in some sort of dealings; solidifying a transaction of money for several herbs and other medicinal ingredients. It had been some months since he had last kept these in stock, what with The Remorseful Remedy having avoided docks and ports for several months. With these, he would at least be able to whip-up much needed medicine for aches, or rather large gashes, or something to take the edge off a limb being lost. He hoped that it wouldn’t have been needed for the latter.

Vaal popped in and out of various apothecaries- stuffing items into his satchel. The silent six-footer moved barefoot around the place while Helena scrutinized the various materials. She passed yet another stall claiming to sell the highest grade of sage yet looking closer proved that the herb itself wasn’t even sage but instead thyme. These fools couldn’t tell their own elbows from their knees yet they thought to sell fake medicinal herbs to a former member of the clergy?

Utterly ridiculous.

While in the back, Salazar remained distant, lagging behind. There was little communication and even less banter between the group as they all moved about their general own business, each moving in the same direction.

Upon entering a particular street is when Vaaltari squinted behind the multicolored mess that was his mask- noticing one charcoal hood vanish, while another appears. He brushed it aside at first as fashion, something common in any part of society; as what fool didn't want the latest trends? But as time went on- he began seeing a pattern. Tracked? he wondered, continuing to move casually, he now slowed his pace and walked behind the others at a minor distance. Uncertain what was going on or what was happening. It felt like they or someone in the group was being tracked but it was hard to tell. There were no immediate obvious signs but whoever it was, not all of their unit did a good job in hiding themselves. His head would shift to glance at items on an apothecary stand, but in truth his aim was to catch sight of whether or not he was being followed, or if they were being followed.

Suffice to say, he stuck with the group when the obvious became clear, and already began turning away the second he noticed the crowd shifting away from them.

The moment they were surrounded, was the same moment that it seemed to dawn on some of the others- albeit a bit slow, even late. The second he heard the word "death" in the sentence, Vaal slipped a hand into his cloak, snaked it into a pouch on his satchel, pulled out a pure white fuzzball and quickly began rubbing it between both hands.

The Quetzola felt his tail feathers press against him, the sudden sensation warning him that something was amiss. He turned, looking around him, only to feel the familiar heat of nausea return. Himself, along with newfound companions of his, had been surrounded by people in charcoal hoods, weapons drawn, energies circling in the palms of their hands.

Pozou could only stand there in a state of confusion and a terror gripping at his throat. He had believed these people, whoever they were, had caught up to him for his association with blasted pirates. Yet, everyone else’s name had been called, and he was sure--well, not exactly, but he assumed--the names of his companions had been sullied with crime or ill-reputation. Perhaps he was naive in thinking such things.

A dull detonation echoed in the air; he sniffed - smoke bomb, judging by the smell. Salazar’s brow furrowed.

Before Pozou could think to audibly question what was happening, smoke had descended upon them and the whole street was covered in darkness like a veil. There were words of ‘sentenced’, ‘death’, ‘controlled’, ‘cannot’, and he couldn’t peace them altogether in the chaos that had literally fallen upon them. Once again, the Quetzola hadn’t the capacity for quick thinking, only reacting, as something wrapped around his waist, and pulled him from his current position, Vaaltari's tail gripping him firmly and lifting.. He panicked, flailed against it, believing somehow it was these people in their strange hoods and outfits that had seized them. Though, upon reaching another alley, and realising the trail belonged to none other than the strange and silent Vaaltari, felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment at not coming to that conclusion earlier.

Though, Pozou’s mind jumped to another conclusion. If his name was called, and the others, and they were being sentenced to death...then what of the others? What of…?

“Pelea!” Pozou couldn’t help but cry out, trying to wriggle from Vaaltari’s tail again. Oh, by the mercy of Quetzocoatl himself, if she had been caught up in the same scenario, she’d have already been getting stuck into fighting against these cloaked figures. He had to find her before she had gotten herself kidnapped, or worse, killed. “I have to go find my sister,” he protested, still wriggling. Though, he forgot one detail, one small detail, that would have been needed in a disaster such as this.

Fighting prowess. Of which the Quetzola proved as skillful as a child wielding a stick against steel. No, perhaps that was an insult to the child. He’d have more skill taking down hooded men than Pozou would with his medicinal herb cutting knife.

The word: EXCOMMUNICATED? Leapt to mind instantly in the madness. Helena couldn’t help but feel fear creep over her. This was, oh no if this had to do with what she thought it did then she needed to get to Roland and fast. She reached down into her sleeve but before she could she felt herself being raised up as she was in the grip of a tail.

“We have to return to the lodge and quickly. They mean business if they brought out Master Mages from other cities. This has to be thanks to the damn employer we had the misfortune of meeting. How dare they excommunicate me, I’m a damn War Cleric!”

Vaaltari heard them but did not respond. Returning to the lodge was a terrible idea, they would look there- they needed to leave- and they needed to do it now. Senses heightened Vaaltari's pupils glowed behind the tint of his mask, seeing the world in a scale of colors, a light that saw through the smoke and gas.

Hurried, angry, feet struck the pavement without rhythm, chaotically. Heavy, sharply thumping against the stones. Armor. And then, in the back, the one I could see - magic reeking, soul flaring. Salazar sensed it. Before them, a pearl, an orb, shining in my Night. A mage, with a coveted item.

With a flick of the wrist, magic answered his call. Concentrated magic in his palm and dropping on one knee, slamming his open hand against the ground. Shadows slithered between the cobblestones, desperate begging hands aiming for the desired prize.

Just below the orb of channeling, at the feet of the mage, he let the Night loose, and its energy surged forth, conjuring a grasping limb of tentacles trying to snatch away the orb. Should it succeed, it’d reappear in his free hand. Which he slightly shook, sending a wave of Night at around torso height towards where he had judged the opponents were. Not enough to harm them, not even enough to scratch them - but it was a dull blade, meant to take the air out of the lungs via impact, made to knock them over to give us a margin of time.

Salazar just hoped the orb wasn’t soul-bound or anything. It’d then be pointless to try and steal it. He hated pointlessness.

He’d heard the others speak or yell - he didn’t care, to be honest. Excommunications and death sentences were like a collectible card game to him. Never had one from this one before. It’d make a fine addition to his collection.


Jet BriiAngelic Arcanist The Regal Rper

 

[BriiAngelic]

• ??? || Ninth Member of The Order Of The Nine

• 
  
  
  
  Tags:
  Helena ( BriiAngelic ) Pozou ( Arcanist ) Salazzle ( Aelia Aeldyne ) Vaaltari ( The Regal Rper )
  

  ~ Eastern Northgate ~
  Whims Of Fate
  
  "Helena Lis, Pozou Artith, Salazzle Starky, Vaaltari of Jata. You have been excommunicated and sentenced to death for seeking what cannot be controlled, and what cannot be found. As since the dawn of men — guardians of reality and guardians of peace. Quaestiones Aeternum"
  
  A mouthful. Wordy and stupid but he needed to repeat them in the excate words according to head bitchtits. He didn’t much see the need to be so theatrical when the church just wanted to make them an example. He himself understood their lingering curiosity for the unknown. Knowledge and power were always the sweetest temptations.
  
  He came with a sword attached at his hip, more for show than anything else. While he like any other liked a good sword fight, now wasn’t the time to play around. For one he didn’t want to fuck around and grow sympathy for them. Secondly it was going to be significantly harder to catch them if he wanted to play around. The armor was already hot and uncomfortable; he didn’t need more weight getting in his way. He dropped the sword as the group he called out turned his way.
  
  As the sword fell a wave of smoke appeared. Well well smoke bombs huh. Indeed they would receive zero sympathy from him. He started to charge up the orb and he tossed it in the air. He directed the energy down from the orb through him and punched forwards as the energy let a wave of wind out blowing away the smoke. With a grin he looked for them, he missed the shadowy tendrils coming for his orb up until they were already upon it.
  
  He let out a laugh as he forced the energy back into the orb before the energy propelled out in an explosion. Luckily it was high enough in the air that it damaged nothing belonging to the town. He’s not sure he’d ever hear the end of it from Elizabeth if he did manage to wreck her town.
  
  “Listen you little good boys and girls and unidentifiable Lizard the best option here for you guys is just to come quietly. I promise I'll even put in a good word, it’s been awhile since I had some new friends to play with.”
  

 

[Jet]

Sewage surged, shooting Liam through worn stone tunnels. And when stormwaters calmed a minute later, the young man was far across Whaleshell Port.

Looking past complete darkness with ease, Liam waded through unknown surroundings, but something nearby knew every nook and cranny. A beast born below ground inside endless tunnels, awakened by wind-disturbed waters.

Lurking behind the young man, the sewer monster watched with ravenous cravings. Weeks had passed since anything fresh wandered here, and the snake was large too. Liam was a feast, swimming without a care until low rumbles escaped the monster. Sending vibrations through water, the noise echoed across tunnel walls before the creature burst from the surface! Roaring loudly the abomination shook stone walls, and lunged down for an attack!

​

Local rumors call the creature Whipmouth. Standing seven feet tall, the beast has strong leverage, but only two legs support oversized weight. Swinging behind him waves a powerful tail appendage, good for both blunt trauma and cutting power (because of the sharp pointed end). Some speculate that the monster was once a man, mutated by a medical mage gone mad with power.



EldridSmith

 

[Sarahspn]

Gwendolyns eyes widened when her projectiles missed and hit the ground behind the troops. She had never missed a target in her life and she froze for a second. Looking over at Leóne she watched as his daggers hit his targets with precision. A frown made its way to her face and the feeling of frustration and a little bit of jealousy filled her. She gripped her staff to the point that her knuckles turned white. Leóne had spoken to her but she didn’t pay any attention to his words, her emotions taking over her senses.

She narrowed her eyes towards the master mage leading the battle and focused on the orb in her hand. She determined that to be the cause of her failure. She wanted to destroy it and restore her reputation. She prepared herself to attack but she was hit with a large gust of wind. Stumbling back, she regained her balance and looked back up at the woman. Leóne was yelling at the group but she couldn’t hear him over the howling wind. Keeping her eyes on the master mage, she went to attack but was pulled away. Quickly turning to see what had grabbed her, Gwen came face to face with Leóne. "Y-You're right." She said, breaking her silence. She squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile. All of her frustration and jealousy washed away when their eyes met. She gave him a small nod and began running with him, still holding his hand. She turned back to Yo and gave her a smile when she followed them.

"Come on! We'll catch up with Liam at the gate!" She yelled, extending her hand to the woman. She caught a glimpse of the master mage shooing them away. Gwens smile faltered and she pushed the resurfacing emotions away, focusing on their escape.

Anne Boolean Jet Taigakitt

 

[Anne Boolean]

Master Elizabeth​

The master mage was happy to see that the group weren't fighting against her winds, but rather going along with it. Finally, it seemed as if they were on the same wavelength. When it seemed they were far enough away that the breeze wouldn't push them anymore she stopped the spell.

"Well, that takes care of that then," the woman said with a smile, dusting off her hands. She turned around to start heading back to the church when she found the hesitant group of mages, guardsmen, and mercenaries standing in front of her. A moment of silence passed before she uttered a, "What?

"You all can go and chase them if you want, but just know that you won't be getting any sort of bonus from me," she said addressing the guardsmen and mercenaries. "And we've got work to do!" Her gaze turned to her group of apprentice mages. "This ordeal has pushed us behind schedule! So let's hurry along now and get back!"

"But Master Elizabeth," one of the mages spoke up, "what about the one in the sewers?"

"Oh, right," she responded. "I almost forgot about him. Well, I suppose I'll do what to him what I planned on doing to all of them if they joined him. But first..." With a wave of her hand the metal manhole cover floated back to where it sat before, once again blocking the path to the rivers of filth running below. "The smell escaping was bad enough, I don't want anything matter coming out as well..." She raised the hand holding the white orb up and a low rumbling was felt under the group's feet. A moment later they could hear the sound of muted rushing water, crashing against stone walls and eventually continuing on its way past them.

"Well, that takes care of that," the master mage said once the sound had subsided. "Hopefully that young man isn't regretting his decision now." She let out a small cackle. "Now come! Let's get back to work. Two of you help Nora and Milo walk." With that she continued forward through the group and started to lead them back to the church.

Jet Taigakitt Sarahspn EldridSmith

 

[Taigakitt]

Freya Hamrammr​

Freya ignored the male mage during his spiel. It seemed a lot of big-headed villains liked to give speeches in the midst of a battle, and she viewed it as arrogant. Of course, then Erik had his own words to give. She was never one to give speeches nor would she spend the time to allow her opponent to power up as she did.

Despite not listening to this Corvus character, she was still attuned to possible attacks as she kept back her own assailants. She had felt the rumble of the ground as the magic threw stone and broken glass in the air by some fierce wind. Some shards of glass had grazed her cheek and uncovered arms, though she could care less. She may have gotten a couple of welts from stone pelting her leather-covered body, but thankfully the air-thrown stone hadn't hit her skull. She noted that the red man didn't even care about harming his own. Weren't church goers supposed to be considered moral and ethical? What was this barbarian shit?

Fire snapped at her feet, causing her to hop back. She clicked her tongue as she noted that the red woman was using a whip of fire. Avoiding as much as she could was like a dance, though she couldn't avoid a couple of the lashes that were aimed at her legs.

As Pelea flew off, Freya's sapphire gaze caught note of two mages running after her. She withdrew a couple throwing axes, aiming them at the mages to keep them from catching up to her. She was a great shot, so they should hit unless some strange phenomenon happened. But she didn't have enough axes for the other group that took off soon after the first two.

Which then left what appeared the be just the more elite of the church, which were retreating behind the pair of leaders. A shout was heard by their third large companion, and she trusted his words. Jumping back, a pillar of flame was suddenly right where she was earlier. Chancing a glance back, she noticed a few barrels rolling their way. As much as she liked to fight, she knew when the odds were no good and when to listen. She ran away from the barrels, in the direction that Pelea had flown.

They were to meet at the Eastern Gate, but Freya didn't want to chance losing someone, even if they were very barely acquainted. It had seemed that Erik had the same thoughts as he also took off in the northern direction. Though she was headed in the direction that Pelea had flown in, she wasn't sure who she may run into first.

Mentions: EldridSmith RedLeftHand36 Jet BriiAngelic OrWangatan ​

 

[Jet]

​

Ayana winced when blood poured from her slender arm, and torn muscles screamed even though her wounds were shallow. The huntress however, remembered lessons about pain. Lessons about deep breathing and emotional control, used to soothe nerves as she rushed forward.

When haze cleared Ayana focused again on her surroundings — especially the bloodsoaked teammate. Empathy overflowed seeing open wounds across his body, even when strong composure concealed the agony he endured. Forest Elves were emotional sponges that way, concrete facades melted when strong emotions were hidden, and protecting Kiel trumped revenge now. Her friends would never be harmed again by these villains!

Easier said than done as guardsmen marched closer, and the master mage prepared a second arrow — this one was aimed center-mass too. Ayana's stomach would be ripped through, she needed to dodge and so she dashed sideways! Running around the amped mage, she watched other mission members cast stone-based attacks against the master mage. Kiel was moving well which sent a reassured wave through Ayana, for now he was standing and attacking. He looks so beaten, thank god he's okay she thought, running at guardsmen who advanced towards Kiel and Kuma, who were focused on attacking.

"WATCH OUT!" Ayana yelled when a guardsmen closed on Kiel. With nimble grace she climbed atop huge steel shoulders, and summoning with speed she covered the guard's crimson helmet in swamp tar! Then she flipped down, and looped her bow around a raised armored foot. Pulling hard she unbalanced the blinded warrior who romped around, dropping him down with a massive metal crash!

"The larger the dumber... The blonder the dumber too" Ayana joked, looking between the disabled knight and the blonde master mage, who was dealing with vengeful stone attacks from angry mission members.

"Your attacks are competent for mages around these uneducated parts, I'm not surprised you're foreigners" she added, speaking to her teammates as Number-Two dodged or counter-attacked.

Anne Boolean Sarahspn Lost Echo

 

[Sarahspn]

Looking down the spine of her arrow, Number 2 took a small breath in. She focused on her target and small wisps of flames appeared, swirling around the sharp arrowhead. She released the breath she held in her chest and a small smile graced her lips. Just as she let the arrow leave her bow, the ground shifted beneath her. The drastic shift in gravity caused her arrow to miss its target completely, lodging itself into the ground next to the elf rather inside her chest.

She quickly turned and saw that Kuma had somehow cracked the road beneath her. Dodging the rocks falling around her, she narrowed her eyes towards the girl. “You little-“ Number 2 snarled but was cut off from a giant rock hitting the side of her torso, causing her to stumble back. She regained her balance in time to dodge the second chunk of earth thrown by Kiel. “I HATE YOU ALL!" She screamed, throwing her bow to the ground. The weapon vanished into embers and her crimson hood fell, revealing part of her blonde hair. Rather than fixing it, she threw the hood off her head and into the dirt. The remaining guardsmen flocked towards her, attempting to protect her identity from being revealed. Her blonde hair fell down her shoulders, revealing strands that were dyed a deep crimson that matched her robes. She didn't care who knew her, she just wanted these rule-breakers to rot in hell. Especially since they made a mockery of her.

"Get away from me! Go back to your stupid barracks, you lowlifes! That is an order!" She yelled, rage taking over her. Her troop reluctantly listened and fell back, quickly leaving the scene. This just left her and the four prisoners before her. She stood tall, glaring at the children in front of her. Her armored fists were balled and were glowing a bright orange. "If you want to make it out alive, you better run for your fucking lives because I'm about to kill you all where you stand." She warned, taking the orb into her hand.

Jet Lost Echo Anne Boolean

 

[Anne Boolean]

Kiel Shan​

The crimson-clad woman's arrow missed Ayana, thanks to the tremors caused by Kuma. One of the chunks of earth Kiel had smacked forth connected as well, although the woman was able to dodge the other one. It seemed this had caused a break in her composure, as she went on to shout her disdain for the three. On top of that, she dropped her weapon, and let it disappear in a burst of flame. She even went on to remove the crimson hood that was concealing her face, and revealed her blonde hair, streaked with locks of crimson.

Her subordinates attempted to crowd around her and try to protect her identity, but she angrily dismissed them. It took them a moment, but with some hesitation the troops followed her orders. Despite now being alone and outnumbered, the woman stood with an air of confidence, and even still had an intimidating presence. She uttered a warning for the quartet, as her hands started to glow with magical energy and she took a hold of the orb that had summoned such a fearsome wall of wind.

"... Let's go," Kiel said after a moment of silence passed. Due to the wound on his leg his running was more like limping, but he heeded the woman's instructions and made his escape as fast as he could. He looked back over his shoulder every few steps, and only when the woman was out of sight did he stop to take a breath. "What have we gotten ourselves into...?" he muttered to his companions as he once again started walking. This time he used his staff as a walking stick, allowing it to touch the ground while held vertically in his grasp to provide support for the side he had the injured leg.

"We're supposed to meet at the eastern gate, right?" he confirmed with his teammates. "I suppose we should head there then. Although in my state, I'm not sure I can leave on this expedition any time soon. If something else happens in the near future, I'd just be dead weight." For just a moment Kiel's brow furrowed into a frown. "That woman... her aim was top-notch. Either that, or..." No, he couldn't have been slipping. After how he won those matches the previous night without receiving so much as a scratch? If it was indeed his fault his performance today was so bad, it would have to be because he was still tired from those fights.

Regardless, an even more worrying thought followed. "These were most likely their first line..." During his travels the nomad had learned that an organization's soldiers tend to be stronger the higher they are in rank. On top of that, they primarily send out their weakest units first, and follow up with stronger reinforcements if necessary. "If that woman was already so powerful..." He shook his head.

Jet Sarahspn Lost Echo

 

[Jet]

​

Armored guards trailed escapees, screaming orders of "HEY STOP RUNNING" and "STOP RIGHT THERE" but words weren't enough. The wanted group was too determined to care, and dashed through pathways seeking escape. Running was the only option without Liam around. They were combat-weakened and down one, but evasion excelled when everyone was normal.

Blending into crowds would be easy now, the lone question was could they reach pedestrian-packed streets? If they could, Leone envisioned smooth escapes because populated areas meant crowds, and crowds meant vanishing without a trace. But getting there wouldn't be easy. First they needed to escape the backstreet maze, cut between stone tenements as cracks in concrete ground.

Cracks they dashed down as Gwen's gaze softened. Moments ago annoyance played across her face, and the rogue wondered is she angry about the missed attack? Leone hoped she wasn't too annoyed when he returned her look, squeezing her hand before opening his grasp -- because they needed to run and run fast!

Linked hands were pleasant, but dashing away needed good old' arm pumps. Leone was moving faster than armored goons could hope, and both teammates wore cloth too. A good choice when church troops hauled metal armor and steel weapons.

Leone could see their molasses speed when he peered back, and between ragged running gasps he looked between teammates and went "They're slow.... We can escape them.... On a big street with people.... Everywhere.... And disguises!" exclaimed as he stole commoner clothes from laundry lines, hung across the narrow tenement pathway.

"Look... hot.... on me?" he joked, showing Gwen a small salmon colored tunic. Designed for short statured woman, his new shirt would look fabulous when the stuffed over his leather outerwear. "Never thought...... dress up.... would be needed to survive" he added, tossing aside anything too small for himself, Gwen or Yo.

Sarahspn Taigakitt Anne Boolean

 

[Taigakitt]

Yo Saiwa​

Yo looked at the hand that Gwendolyn extended towards her. She reached her own hand out and grabbed. It would be easier to stay together that way. If that was what the other woman intended. Yo didn't have too much time to think things through, since they had to get the hell out of the alley and away.

Once out of the alley, or at some point, the winds had stopped pushing them. But there was no time to dwell on that. In the books she read, if someone looked back while getting chased, it had always spelled doom to the one being chased.

Eventually, Leóne was gasping words between ragged breaths. She nodded her response, her own breathing heavy. She was too exhausted and bewildered to their predicament that she didn't argue about the stolen clothes, though she thought a quiet "sorry" with each one.

Eventually, she landed on an outfit that hid her face and legs. She was an easy spot, what with her horns and scales. She had on some hooded over shirt and threw on a pair of pants that were almost too long to hide her legs. She looked a little silly, but to hell with appearances right now.

At this point, she wasn't sure how far from their original point they had run, but she also didn't know how big this port town was, so she wasn't exactly sure how far the Eastern Gate yet was. She could only hope that Gwendolyn and Leóne wouldn't leave her in the dust.

"How close... are we to... the gate?" Whether they were still in running mode or not, she was still tired, as evident in her voice.

Mentions: Jet Sarahspn Anne Boolean ​