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Fantasy As the World Burns

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  • seasonedcat seasonedcat (Zareth)
    The moment Zareth stepped out of the healer's quarters he could feel prying eyes follow his every step. Distrustful glances flashed in the edges of his vision, the eyes of a people whom feared and hated what he was. Children were ushered away by their mothers while warriors tensed up and lay their hands upon the hilt of their weapons in preparation. It was clear as daylight that while he may be considered a guest here, he would not have a warm welcome.

    As Zareth searched for someone he recognized, he catch sight of a familiar face rushing in the opposite direction. Wren. She had pulled her cardigan up over her face, as if to hide it, and eyed her surroundings cautiously. The strange slime she kept as a pet was balanced on her head, wobbling like a plate of jelly. Unlike Wren, the creature seemed to spot Zareth almost immediately and began to wiggle up and down excitedly.

    Zareth would quickly notice two concerning things. One, Wren no longer seemed to have his Staff and Book on her person, and two, she had a nasty wound on her arm. It was bandaged, but her cardigan was ripped by what one could assume to be claws. Maybe that would explain why she was rushing towards the Healing Quarters? She scurried inside like a cockroach exposed to light and disappeared from his sight.

    As he saw the girl disappear, Zareth would feel something brush up against his leg. The one-eyed spirit had returned and looked up at him with an expectant 'meep!'.


    YsFanatic YsFanatic (Sarah) + Wren + jmann jmann (Gamma)
    Wren didn’t really like the idea of visiting the healer’s quarters, but she was left with no choice. It was clear by the scent of potent supernatural energies that the other 'isekai' victims had been kept within the building. As troublesome as it was, she wanted answers… and there were only a few souls on this planet who may have them. One in particular would have a bit more than just shared experience.

    Her arm was caked in dried blood, her sleeve ripped from a previous disagreement. Bandages had been sloppily applied beneath it, but it was clear that nobody skilled in the art of medicine had applied it. As she walked into the healer’s quarters, a few of the healers rushed to her aid when they saw her, only to be completely ignored. Wren merely walked past them, following the trail of magic left behind by the other Star-Fallen. She could tell by the fading energy-traces that most of the other Star-Fallen had left, but luckily her target seemed to be the worst-off of the bunch.

    Wren appeared in the doorway of the private chamber and glanced around. There were only two individuals left inside; Sarah and Gammariah. Both of which appeared to be resting from their prior battle. She couldn't help but crack a grin at her luck. With a hop in her stride, she stepped inside the chamber and closed the door behind her.

    “Yo, granny! We need to talk!.” Wren callously called over to Sarah, unconcerned with disturbing an elder’s rest. She shuffled over to the woman, giving her a poke on the shoulder if she continued to sleep or ignored her.

    “Hey, did you finally croak?” Wren added cheekily. “Don’t die yet. At least not until you’ve answered some questions.”

    As Wren was busy harassing the elderly, Flub waddled over to where Gammariah lay. The gelatinous creature seemed to immediately recognize him, and started to wiggle up and down in an overly happy manner. When that didn’t get the man’s attention, the chubby slime stretched up and began to nibble on Gamma’s fingers. This quickly escalated to engulfing his whole hand in bright, chilly goo. If he didn’t move his hand away, the flesh would begin to blister and burn as it was slowly digested by the slime’s caustic body.


    Solirus Solirus
    After asking a few locals, Rodal would find out that Sohaa was currently at the training grounds. The people of Cloud-Home were more than happy to guide their defender in the right direction, giving him clear enough guidance that he managed to find the training ground with ease. It was located on the lower tier of the shrine-city, built from what could only be the ruins of some large building. Fragments of stone pillars jutted up from the overgrown soil, some of which had been fashioned into targets.

    The ground was flat and covered in fine sand, the perfect area for trailing. Stuffed straw-men had been set up around the perimeter, their stitched bodies suited with scavenged armour from Astellian troops. A few of them had been broken, and lay in a heap at the corner of the training yard for repairs or replacement.

    As it was still early in the day following a stunted invasion, the training yard was quite empty, though there was a group of warriors collected at one end of the yard. One of them was an archer practicing their aim while two others were sparring. Watching over the duel was none other than Sohaa, who appeared to be giving instructions to the two. From a glance, it was obvious that he was the eldest among those present, despite being a rather young man himself. If Rodal was to guess, the two sparring partners couldn't have been more than teenagers. It was perhaps a grim sight, but likely one that Rodal was familiar with.

    Caught up in their own business, they did not seem to notice Rodal yet.

    November Witch November Witch AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa ThatWhichShouldBe ThatWhichShouldBe (splitting this up a little but all of it applies to you three!)
    (Autumn)
    Compared to the previous night, the streets of Cloud-Home were bustling with activity. On her way towards the battlefield, Autumn could see the residents going about their daily activities despite the looming threat of war. Children ran in the streets and herdsman ushered along their flocks of wooly sheep-like creatures. As normal as it all seemed, the scars of war could still be seen. Healers accompanied by the peculiar one-eyed spirits hurried along the streets with bundles of fresh herbs in tow and within the shade of structures, widows and orphans cried. Some even gazed at Autumn in a look of distrust.

    Autumn did not see Toko anywhere during her trip outside the walls, though now that she was out of the city she had a clear sight of the lake's water. She didn't see any obvious figures along the water's edge, though at this distance it would be difficult to see the finer details.

    While she may not have found Toko, Autumn would be the first to spot an unusual figure standing in the remnants of a freshly made crater. It was just like the one that she had awoken in last night, though with perhaps a lot more bodies and wolves. Their leader was none other than the hulking white canine whom had tried to slay the fox-woman last night; The Matriarch Oshaka. As if she couldn't be more reminded of last night's horrors, Autumn would recognize the body that lay limply at Oshaka's giant paws. Her white garments were horribly stained in gore and dirt, but there was no mistaking the long hair and delicate features of that Astellian mage she had once tried to assist.

    (Cynthora)
    Oshaka's predatory gaze was locked onto Cynthora, glinting maliciously as the deer-woman stammered and cowered. Like a beast on the scent of blood, the wolf took her floundering as an invitation to step closer. A frigid chill wafted off of the beast in waves, growing ever more intense as she loomed over the poor woman. Soon a fine layer of frost covered the ground beneath Cynthora's hooves and she could see her breath coming up as foggy clouds.

    The wolf's eyes flashed as she prowled closer, frozen fangs gleaming in the bright sunlight. "A pity... it is already broken. Too afraid to fight just like my pathetic excuses for kin. Those who have lost their fangs serve no purpose but to be ripped apart by those who still bare them."

    Taking thier time, the ghostly pack of wolves closed in around Cynthora, baying and howling in anticipation of a fresh feast.

    (Han)
    Han would arrive just in time to see the wolves surrounding Cynthora. He would immediately recognize their hulking leader as one of the prominent spirits of Cloud-Home. If he recalled, he would know that her name was Matriarch Oshaka, and that she had sided against both Han and Autumn during the short disagreement in front of the city gates. He was well aware of her eagerness for blood, and it was clear what fate would befall the poor deer-woman caught in the center of her pack's circle.

    The white wolf held little fondness for Han, but she had agreed not to harm the Star-Fallen. How far her promise would stretch remained to be seen. It certainly did not seem to extend to Cynthora.

    Han and Autumn could both feel their blessing flare up within them as they approached the scene. It was little more than a candle's flame compared to the surge of heat they had felt when they first were blessed, but it was enough to whisper an awakening. The little flame burned brightly as soon as their mind turned to helping Cythora or attacking Oshaka, but dimmed out when their thoughts turned to elsewhere. It was almost like the swaying needle of a compass.
 
Han Liuyang
The King of the Rising Sun moves like the wind- robe fluttering and flapping in the air. He moves across the rooftops with a light step- feet pounding on stone and tile, stepping upon wood and golden gathered sunlight. He leaves in his wake surprise and awe, at the man traversing the world without a care. For Han Liuyang, mortal or immortal, is free, no matter what the laws of base reality say. Gravity yields to his exertions, as he springs and flips through the city. The gatehouse itself poses little more obstacle to him than a stone step, as he leaps over it with two bounds. The first leap takes him over the building whilst the second leap is made upon sunlight, allowing him to clear the gatehouse entirely and land upon what was once a battlefield.

Immediately, dried blood stains his feet. Bodies litter the field, the smell of death and blood and war rank in the air. Weapons strewn about, scattered. It's a terribly familiar scene, one he'd seen a thousand, thousand times before. And as Han moves through the field towards the fallen star, it's with no less grace than he had moved through the roofs of Cloud-Home. Even now as he was, he was a distance removed from the concerns of mortals, from the blood and arms of the field. He speeds through the field with that impossible grace of his, leaping and bounding over corpses with empty eyes, fallen horses, weapons planted in the earth. As if none of it was there at all. For Han's was the wind and the sky and all the glories of the Heavens above, and it is all too easy for him to leave earthly concerns behind. The horrors of war are left behind him so quickly as he passes over the earth.

Then he sees her- the woman who the falling star had brought, deer-bodied and trembling. Even from so far off, he could see the fear upon her, rank and paralyzing. More concerningly, he sees Oshaka, eager to whet her fangs upon more creatures, if the bloodied body in her paws is anything to go by. The wolf-mother had assented to allowing the Star-Fallen to be brought to the Spirits, to Haavi, for their signs to be interpreted. It seems that she had changed her mind.

Han can feel the fire within him flaring up, that candle's flame roused to awake. It's enough to make him nearly laugh. The transparent, clumsy attempts to direct Han's will in a direction befitting the goddess's intent.

As if he'd ever needed a guiding hand to know to do the right thing.

With an exertion, he leaps into the air, bright and shining. He leaps far, far up, as he did when he'd leapt to Shem. Oshaka ( Juju Juju ) and Cynthora ( AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa ) first notice a light above them, fierce and burning gold, growing brighter the source descends. Han lands besides Cynthora with a loud WHUMP , the golden Halo around his head dancing in joyful defiance. He looks upon Cynthora with a relaxed, reassuring smile, cracking his shoulders.

"You're going to be alright. I promise that."

The warrior is a tall, well-muscled man, with noble features that seemed to have been taken off the statue of some ancient king of old. His hair flies wildly in the wind, long and black. Upon his brow is a burning brand glowing with the symbol of a rising sun, and his head is framed by a halo of sunfire. His fine black silk robes are visibly a little dirtied, but beneath the grime they are embroidered in elaborate golden patterns of dragons and suns. Upon his wrists are silver wraps, sparkling with a power reminiscent of gentle moonlight. Han turns his gaze upon Oshaka, his smile still present and confident in the face of her spectral pack. His words are a statement that allowed no dissent, an affirmation of truth.

"All Star-Fallen are guests of Cloud-Home, Wolf-Mother. You agreed to it yourself. Do not dare cheapen your word."
 
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Elvish Prison
Juju Juju​


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Doi lit up as her calls were answered, even despite the harsh tone she was met with. Dutifully upset, but not blood-thirsty. She could work with that. In stark contrast to her cellmate, Doi nor her pleasant smile did not flinch. By the sound of it, she'd need to have a word with the warden once things were straightened out. Violence and torture seldom solved anything in the long run.

"If it will take this 'examination' to grant me an audience, then that is all I needed to hear." Doi leaned as close as she could to the guard. Her voice fell soft, "There is a reason I stumbled upon your camp; a reason one of your loyal soldiers sacrificed his life to send me here. A reason She showed me the savagery and malice of your foes. I am on your side, and I wish to help. I swear to the Guiding Star."

She sat back down, ever content. "Apologies for keeping you. Have a wonderful rest of your day."
 
Autumn IchorAI-RS-Stand.png

Status: Frustrated & Angry
Location: Battlefield
Interaction(s): Juju Juju AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa ThatWhichShouldBe ThatWhichShouldBe

Upon seeing the scene taking place not too far from her, Autumn approached, curious as to what was happening. While the wolf scared the fox, she had been ordered not to hurt them, so surely she’d be alright, right? Upon getting closer, she would notice the body at the feet of the wolf. Autumn was still 20-30 feet away when she stopped and gasped out of shock… But mere moments after, she felt anger bubbling up inside her. She was already dead! Where did this wolf get off on desecrating the dead!? Autumn’s fists clenched and she trembled, attempting to hold back her emotions.

But thankfully, before anything drastic could happen, Autumn noticed another figure, trembling between the figures of the other wolves, and then noticed the heat and smoke dissipating from inside the crater they gathered around. Another star-fallen? Autumn’s attention was now grabbed shifted from the wolf, and her temper started to gradually settle. For naught but a moment until the wolf mother opened her mouth again. Everything Autumn had been holding back, the emotions and feelings from the past day poured out and for the first time while here, she acted on instinct instead of thinking things through.

As she stomped up near the wolf, she noticed Han join them. Well, at least she wouldn’t be totally alone here.

“Are you serious? She already did!”

Autumn replied to Han as she walked up to the group from behind the wolf mother, and stood near the body she’d come looking for. In Autumn's opinion, she couldn't trust Wolf Mother anymore. She was suddenly unsure of her own safety, but she was too emotional to care at the moment.

“Too bad we don’t have a court to settle this. I could have you charged with conspiracy to murder.”

She pointed back towards Cloud Home and stood her ground. It was clear Autumn was fuming.

“Now be a good little dog and leave. None of this is your food.”

Autumn said, referring to the deer woman. She stepped between Wolf Mother and the body of the mage, insinuating she also meant the mage with her previous statement. She said in a bit of a condescending, almost teasing tone. Letting on that Autumn knew Wolf Mother would be in trouble if she tried anything. Though her tone was mostly that of frustration and anger.
 
Rodal - The Vessel
With help from: Juju Juju
Location: Training Ground
​
Once he'd spoken to the others within Cloud-home, he would come to learn that Sohaa was there. Perhaps he had forgotten, or more plausible was that the man was waiting for Rodal. He'd expected for Sohaa to have courtesy to show him the way, but perhaps that was a way in which this world and his differentiated. It would certainly be far more efficient considering to have a man of authority waste no time overseeing the training of soldiers. Yet, as he walked through Cloud-home, he would note the many soldiers already set up in their stations, while others were resting or recovering from their wounds. If Sohaa were training anybody, it would be a considerably small force, and just like clockwork, Rodal would be proven right the moment he saw the training ground.

It was a rather pitiful sight, the remnants of old architecture lay shattered, pillars being the only thing truly left to give a proper story. For how long this building was left as ruins and through what methods Rodal was not sure. The conflict would suggest that this damage was recent, but such a conclusion would mean the astellians had reached far enough to siege the Shrine-City and damage it, only to then be pushed back and forced to retreat. If, however, this was ancient damage, then that would mean the residents of this place would have neglected this place, refusing or being unable to repair it and restore its former form.

Regardless, the training grounds themselves were crafty and usable. The sand floor was perfect for trailing, being able to see your steps as one practiced, while also providing as a cushion if one were to fall. The pillars too were used to hold up targets, such structures would not be easily moved nor broken by simple arrows nor even simple magic.

Moving closer to the training ground, the pile of armors next to the training dummies would catch his attention. Getting equipment from the enemy was difficult but valuable, having it on striking dummies would create proper expectations when striking the enemy, even if such equipment had already been damaged. Rodal approached the pile of armors, inspecting each of them. He could immediately tell the different in certain armors, the quality one's had over others, one were for the elven fighters and others were for the non-elves. He'd already figured that the Astellians had a form of hierarchy, elves were the privileged, while the rest were given what scraps the elves deemed necessary or perhaps the scraps they felt like giving. Next, however, Rodal would check for the damages done to the equipment, as expected most damage came from weapons. Hole punctured through with spears and other thrusting weapons over varying size, cuts from blades aimed at the weak points of the armor with some straps being sliced up too, and dent from bludgeoning weapons. Blades and hammers were not the only weapons at the disposal of the natives, elemental damage was clearly shown in other suits of armor, some rather minor with only certain pieces having melted off or broken apart. Others though were far more extreme, with most of the armor unusable and others with familiar bite marks.

Rodal considered for a second if he could infiltrate the Astellians by wearing their armor. They would be unable to recognize him as they had not seen his face and even if they could recognize his voice, he could alter it enough to cause uncertainty. But that endeavor was pointless, as a human he would likely be thrown as fodder to die in the frontline and without being able to wield a normal weapon even fitting in would be difficult. Even should they believe him to be a soldier, they might think him a deserter and imprisoned, if he were to infiltrate them properly. The best disguise would be that of a messenger, he would not be forced to wield a weapon, and he could gain valuable information or make sure it never arrived. Next battle, Rodal would make sure to look for any messengers and take their place. Such plans would naturally have to wait until he gathered necessary intel and discovered the perfect opportunity.

There were only four people within the training ground, Sohaa being one among them.

Whatcha looking at?

You're awake.

Yeah, what of it?

Nothing… I was about to observe the people in the training grounds.

Well, don't let me stop you then, Sir.

It would be the archer that caught Rodal's attention first. He along with the others wore a typical garb of leather and cloth that had been reinforced by bits of metal, likely scavenged and repurposed. The armor was too small for the archer, as it appeared loose anytime he shot an arrow.

Why's his armor shaking like that?

It's too big for him.

Why not give him a smaller armor then?

Doesn't seem possible, this must be the smallest they can give him.

So he'll grow into it then?

No, he's in his twenties from what I can guess, he won't be significantly growing anytime soon.

Then why's he so small, you're twenty-something too, and you're bigger than him.

Most likely stems from malnourishment.

Well, they do seem like a hunter-gatherer civilization, thus being in constant war where the land is being devastated would make them go hungry.

Rodal paused for a second, Leva always seemed to be rather questionable with some knowledge or actions, but it was clear that Leva was far smarter than Rodal gave her credit for.

The archer also possessed a tattoo on his neck, one which he did not see others displaying. Rodal could likely ask what it meant, but only if he interacted with the archer after they were all finished training. As for his form, the archer seemed like they understood the fundamental of archery, hold the bow, grab an arrow, pull back the string and fire the arrow at the enemy. But the archer's technique was sloppy and unrefined, it demonstrated lack of experience and little care for the fine details. His drills too appeared lackluster, he could shoot while standing still, but did he know how to fire a bow whilst mounted? He might serve as an archer at the top of a gate, but placed under any other circumstance he would underperform and lead to his death.

The two duelists were next, wearing the same armor as the archer, it was clear that it was too small for them too. Both their hairs matched in color, but differed in style, the girls' hair was far better kept and short while the boy's hair was messier and slightly longer. Horns extended from their heads too, the girl's horn curving much like a goat's would, whilst the boy's horns were straighter and resembled that of bulls. It would be not a far stretch to assume the two were siblings.

That's weird, they look like clones.

They're likely siblings.

It'd be cooler if they were clones of sorts, imperfect and all.

That is likely not the case.

Well, they do have different horns.

Correct, not sure how that would work exactly if they are related.

Who do you think is the older one?

The girl.

That's not right, the boy is clearly taller than her.

That is true, but the girl appears to be around 18 while the boy appears 16.

But aren't older siblings taller than younger ones?

Not necessarily, boys generally tend to grow up to be taller than girls.

Yeah, well, I don't agree with that.

…

Rodal was reminded how odd Leva could end up acting, even when moments ago she demonstrated competency.

From the sparring, Rodal could note how each of them behaved in battle. The girl was more cautious, more defensive and keeping her distance, waiting for her opponent to make a mistake, while the boy being taller was more aggressive looking to take advantage of his height and weight. These were also shown through their wounds. The girl had burn marks on her hands, which would've likely led to her arms and chest if she had not kept her distance. Meanwhile, the boy had a scar on his ear, almost as if it had been torn off by something, such scar also followed to his head messing the boy's hair further, a scar he likely acquired by being reckless. At these young ages, these kids had experienced and suffered through war, but they still lacked experience and skill to survive further.

Lastly, there was Sohaa who was instructing the siblings. Rodal already had an idea of Sohaa, a quite experienced and skilled warrior who'd gained the respect of the wolf. Rodal couldn't respect that quality, viewing him simply as the wolf's pet. Regardless of how his feelings, Rodal had come here for a purpose.

So, whatcha gonna do now?

I'll see how I can improve this.

Rodal approached the small as he stepped on the sand, purposefully making his footsteps heard but avoiding overdoing it else it would appear forced. Sohaa would be the first to spot him, "Ah, look who it is, The Slayer. Not one to stay in bed, I see?" Sohaa spoke, turning around to face him. At the same time, the rest halted their training, opting instead to look at him.

"I was tempted, but I figured I wouldn't make you wait much." Rodal responded with an amused tone.

The horned boy would be the next to speak up, "It's true, then, you killed the blood-red commander?"

"Right you are." Rodal replied, leading to the others stepping up, asking how the fight had unraveled.

"Well, the fight itself was intense, but make no mistake, I did not fight alone, I was supported by Stalwart Bluff, a fellow but elderly star fallen and cavalry who had helped. The commander had initially isolated me, forcing me to fight against one of her wicked blades whilst the stalwart bluff and the other star fallen. I would dispatch of the blade, however, suffering a nasty wound to the shoulder. Returning to fight the commander, however, I was still in good condition. After some back and forth however the elder and stalwart bluff would be drained and wounded which evidently left me as the last one standing and through one final assistance from Stalwart bluff I was able to strike down the commander. I do not believe I would have lost if had not been given stalwart bluffs assistance but I would not have left that battle as unscathed as I did." Rodal explained. It was a rather simple retelling but none of what he said was false.
 
Sarah simply raised an eyebrow when the younger woman came over, poked her, and said her bits. However, what actually caught the bulk of the old woman's attention was the slime that appeared to be trying to eat the man who was still sleeping.

"First you might want to pay attention to your friend. It appears to be trying to eat our ally over there. Do that and we can talk as much as you like."

While the slime trying to eat someone was not a promising start to the day, the fact that this young woman at least showed willingness to talk to others was pleasing to Sarah. Other than the elf who paid some attention to the sleeping man, the rest had walked out without sparing so much as a glance to him or herself. She expected that they would have to work together to survive whatever was coming, and if she was right about this then the lack of communication so far was worrisome. She had every intention of trying to improve that once she was up and moving again, but for now the warrior was rather limited in what she could do.

Juju Juju jmann jmann
 
As Valleni ran from the things chasing her she threw a hand out in front of herself. To the naked eye nothing seemed to happen save for perhaps a faint shimmer that briefly appeared in a line that ran across her path, but to her electrical senses her spell had taken hold, creating a deadly trap. Nothing happened when the mage ran across it, but the rapid fire sounds of electrical shocks and screeches of pain and surprise told her that it had worked, frying a number of the bird things. But she could hear one more coming after her, having escaped death by the simple fact that her spell had used up its power killing its fellows. It sounded like it was close enough that if she tried to turn to zap with a lightning bolt that it would catch her and placing another wall or using Electric Nova would be a waste of mana she didn't think she could afford.

Thankfully a solution was in front of her. Two trees had grown so close together that no person could hope to fit between them, but what gap there was would be enough for her Shocking Step. Turning into a bolt of lightning Valleni passed through the space and returned to human form on the other side, but the bird monster had so much ability, getting stuck when it shoved its head through the gap in an attempt to tear at her with its beak. Rather than leave an enemy behind, electricity started to crawl over the lightning savant's hand before she quickly grabbed its head. The electricity would flow from into the creature and instantly fry it, solving the problem once and for all.

Or so Valleni thought until a powerful gust of wind almost knocked her off her feet. Glancing up, she was caught by surprise at the sheer size of the bird that had created the gust, and even as its shriek had Valleni covering her ears she noted with some horror that it was going in Lucille's direction. Pushing against the human instinct to stay still with ears covered until the noise went away, the mage instead broke out into a run again. She could not, would not, take the risk that it would attack her love. Then she arrived, taking in the ruins, the bird monsters circling three random people she didn't care about, and then Lucille on the far side.

For a wonder it didn't seem like any of the monsters was paying any attention to- No, Valleni spotted one glancing back in the 'blind' woman's direction. As soon as the dark-haired woman spotted the creature looking at Lucille, every negative emotion she had felt since waking up in the strange empty space until now boiled surface all at once. With a furious scream that bordered on animalistic she pointed a finger at the offending bird thing as she prepared a spell. Normally lightning magic had safeguards that would dim the electricity to levels that would not blind people and would prevent it from generating thunderclaps that could potentially harm bystanders, but the safeguards were not perfect. The sheer, raw, power the savant poured into this single spell was far too much for those protections, generating a blindingly bright bolt of lightning that struck the monster with the force of a raging elemental.

Metal, perhaps stone, could have stopped the spell, but flesh and bone offered no such protection. Thunder sounded as the bolt punched clean through the creature and dug into the ground past it, the excess energy arcing off the bolt alone being enough to flash fry the rest of the body into a charred skeleton. Most mages would have consider such a casting to be an incredibly wasteful bit of overkill that cost way too much mana, and indeed it had left Valleni panting for air even as her vision swam from the brightness of the bolt. But she didn't care as not only was the spell to remove a hostile entity, but also to send a message to the other birds; threaten Lucille and you fucking die.

Juju Juju seasonedcat seasonedcat
 

  • 1715991033029.pngZareth | Cloud-Home

    Zareth's desperate searches turned up no fruit until his gaze fell on the very thief of his staff, the one who had sold him out. A mix of anger, betrayal, and panic ran through Zareth's achy body as he gritted his teeth, "Hey you, stop!" Zareth exclaimed loudly, taking a few steps only to trip over the spirit that tried to greet him. Zareth crashed down to the ground painfully, landing on his hands and knees, causing pain other than from his markings to shoot up his body.

    snickers and poorly hushed words weree easily picked up by Zareth's pointed ears as a deep flush settled on his face, spreading to the tips of his ears. Zareth gritted his teeth as painful embarrassment swam in his chest, his hands clenching into fists in the dirt. As the little creature got over the spook of him falling, it came to nuzzle Zareth's arm, letting out another noise.

    without warning, Zareth bared his teeth at the thing, snatching his arm away, "don't touch me!" he hissed out, causing the creature to scurry back at the unexpected aggression. The guilt was instant, mixing with the embarrassment in a way that made Zareth want to be sick. He didn't mean to lash out or scare, which was the only thing that had shown him genuine affection in centuries, but mistakes were the only thing Zareth was good at.

    Zareth let out a shaky sigh, composing himself despite the whispers and guilt. Being a laughing stock was normal. Being hated was normal. Being alone is normal. He was used to it, and even if the goddess from his dream promised it, he knew that was all he would ever know. Zareth rose to his feet with fake bravado, dusting himself off as he steeled his gaze into the harsh glares of those on the streets. Some moved in fear, others glared back, but the actions were all familiar. Life was simple and linear for him; it would never change.

    Zareth closed the distance between himself and the Healing Quarters as swiftly as his crippled body would allow him, going to open the door before something stopped him. A small pressure on his leg made him look down to see the spirit once again rubbing against him tentatively as it let out another small noise. Zareth's facade crumpled in an instant as he stared down at it with so many emotions. Zareth leaned down to pet it softly, his face scrunching up as the thing nuzzled against him like he hadn't lashed out at it earlier. Maybe he was wrong; maybe life could change.

    with the spirit at his heels, Zareth opened the door again, his mask back on but his chest feeling a little less hollow. His gaze fell on Wren instantly, "You thief! Where is my staff and tome?! Hand it over immediately before I contact the guards!" Zareth said as he crossed his arms, the spirit giving an authoritative 'meep' as well at his feet.

    interactions | Juju Juju jmann jmann YsFanatic YsFanatic

 


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Cynthora had, in fact, noticed her impending doom. Though too stricken to acknowledge it properly, her lack of any response said it all. That, perhaps, it was a blessing. That this nightmarish scenario would end as quickly as it began. Fate would not be so cruel as to pit her against her tormentors again, surely? She finally looked at the wolf's bare teeth, having exhausted her cries for the moment.

She shut her eyes...

But sweet mercy never came—at least, by her standards of mercy.

For a light shined brighter than even the one in the supposed "afterlife". Cynthora had to shield her gaze as the light neared. Rather than the crashing star, it landed gracefully beside her. When she finally got a better look at him... he was beautiful. If her mind was not plagued with horror, her heart would have skipped a beat, and her face flushing with red. In the same moment, he promised her sanctuary.

Also coming to her aid was an elegant fox lady, fending off the "Wolf-Mother" with words. She could not help but feel a little ashamed now, relying on these twos' protection.

Though Cynthora was far from well, that was enough to stop her panic.

At last, her hooves found strength. She rose from misery, Han's sunlight reflecting off her hair and skin. The warmth was... comforting. Cynthora trotted slowly between him and Autumn. She put a hand on each of their shoulders. "Thank you." Her voice, contrary to the horrendous screeching prior, dropped soft—but a slight tremble revealed the mask. But in the face of the Wolf-Mother, Cynthora stared back. She was terrified; not just of the gigantic creature that almost devoured her, but of everything else. Unfamiliar lands, faces, terms... but the same enemy. "I... I am Cynthora of Tilia." Then a sickening, terrifyingly hopeful thought. "Is anyone of my tribe here...?"
 
GAMMARIAH | Dreamscape + Infirmary Gammariah.png Juju Juju seasonedcat seasonedcat YsFanatic YsFanatic
Gammariah looked up to the saint, his deep-set eyes a window to the desperation and uncertainty inside. The saint was the one to have granted him new life, and not to be a weapon but to restart and save the people he cared for. It wasn’t a curse of loneliness but a chance to make something of himself beyond a leader of a resistance.
When the chains wrapped themselves around the saint, Gammariah sprung to his feet. He wanted so strongly to unravel them, but her sheer radiance prevented him from getting closer. There was something she was warning against, an evil plaguing the world greater than the Dynasty, something primordial. But there was no time for details, she mentioned the ones he had lost and the one he stood to gain.
“I… don’t go,” the words stumbled from Gammariah’s lips before he could even think of who they were for. The water pulled him down like an anchor, just as sleep demanded his return.


Gammariah awoke feeling oddly refreshed. Despite what should have been deep lacerations, he found himself lying on his back staring at the detailed ceilings. He turned, his gaze falling over to the empty bed he knew the elf to have slept in. Gammariah pulled himself upright in time to see the ends of the elf’s robes disappear out the corridor. Part of him wanted to chase after, but he decided to stay. He could enjoy what freedom he would have left until Gammariah decided what to do with him. If the saint brought them back to live a new life, it was possible the elf was not confined by the same call to action. Just because they shared an enemy in this elder evil did not mean they would work together.For all the events of the previous afternoon Gammariah still did not know the elf’s name.

As he lay there in thought, a voice cracked the silence like the first storm’s thunder. It was the woman in the strange garb from the previous night. In getting the elderly woman’s attention she had disturbed the whole of the infirmary, or what few people remained inside. The little creature that followed her was more concerned with Gammariah, however, bouncing next to his cot and trying to bite his fingers with a mouth without teeth. It was a creature Gammariah had never seen before. Was it a Star Fallen as well or had it been brought alongside the girl? It was not quite water but not quite like the stone. Its flesh was wet and viscous but moved like it had muscle and tendon. It was when it bit his hand that he pulled back and flung his hand away. Even without teeth its bite was cold fire, like the stomach acid of a beast.

Gammariah swung his legs around to sit up, scooping up the creature as he did so.
“You’re a strange one, in what image were you made? Not sculpted like us, that is certain.”
A tang of pain hit his heart. He had once enjoyed debating theology and philosophy with his dearest. In the struggle of the battle he had not had a chance to reflect on the moments before his death. What excuse did he have to enjoy a new life when he was responsible for so much death. Hallward’s death was undeniably on his hands alone, but still he had been let live and it was done so as a blessing, not a punishment. Had the saint forgiven him? Had so much time passed that his deeds were nothing more than echoes in the stone? Were any of his family still living? Gammariah knew it was unlikely. Maybe it was so there was nothing to distract him from his goal. If that were the case the saint had certainly failed.

Gammariah shook his head of such thoughts and stood, holding the gelatinous thing. He spoke up, realising all who remained inside were awake.
“What is this?” Gammariah held out the creature like a child confused about a bug they’d found.

In that moment the elf had returned, their voice louder than the girl’s and bellowing through the halls. Gammariah's mind flashed to people in the other halls, the actually injured or sick who needed rest.
“Bite your tongue, elf, or I’ll do it for you,” Gammariah spat before turning to the girl, “Did you steal the elf's weapons? I fear in a time of turmoil we may all need to risk a degree of trust if we are to work together.”
 
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PH'LLOIGPH'LLOIGHPH'LLOIGH EPHAII NG EPHAII N'GHA L' LW'NAFH
BLADES FLASHING
WAR WITHOUT REASON ​
Breathe in, breathe out. Lilliana focused herself, gripping her stiletto blade Voskhad as the lumbering golem swung wildly at the witch. Lilliana fell deftly into a slide, dodging under the beasts strike and slamming Voskhad into its wooden flesh. Holding her breath, Lilliana clutched her blade tight as the golems arm came back up, bringing Lilliana up with it. With a grunt Lilliana flipped up onto the charred arm, eyes focusing on the beasts exposed magical core. Leaving Voskhad lodged in the golems arm Lilliana broke into a sprint, dextrously climbing the beasts gnarled arm. She grasped at a jutting branch as the beast began to flail, attempting to throw the woman off. Lilliana took the motion in stride as she vaulted up onto what remained of the monsters shoulder, perched just above the exposed core. Just before she could plunge her second blade, Zekat, into the core she was jolted violently as the golem slammed its shoulder into the sturdy tree of which her human companion was once pinned. Splintered bark fell about her as she crashed violently into the trunk of the tree by the force, her breath suddenly leaving her as pain jolted through her body. The ripping of wood filled the space as the beasts charred arm ripped from the rest of its body, flying off some distance and landing down in the clearing.

Lilliana didn't have but a moment to reel in the pain as a stony hand came flying towards her, the monster intending to crush Lilliana like a fly against the tree. Thinking quickly, Lilliana dove to the side, intending to grab hold of the beasts charred wooden arm, only to find it missing from the previous impact. "ебать!" Lilliana exclaimed as she dove through the air, barreling for the ground. She hadn't intended to hit the ground from this high up, she would certainly dislocate or even break something. Though, that wasn't important at the moment. Lilliana refocused on the enemy at hand. The core was more exposed than it had been before, and from midair she had a good angle on it. Lilliana turned herself so her back was to the ground, giving her a good angle on the target as she flipped Zekat around in her hand so she was holding the tip of the blade. Focusing on the core, she reeled her hand back, preparing to throw the heavy dagger.

Breathe in, breathe out. Lilliana loosed Zekat, the blade whistling as it whirled in circles through the air. Lilliana didn't have time to confirm a hit, she needed to make sure she didn't crack her head open in a fall. She tried the best she could to reach a position in which she could roll to break the fall as well as she could. Though she could tell that if what really came nest was the hard ground, it was going to hurt like hell.
 

  • YsFanatic YsFanatic (Sarah) seasonedcat seasonedcat (Twink1) jmann jmann + Wren
    Wren flicked her attention over to the ‘situation’, her blue eyes half-lidded and unconcerned. She gave a nonchalant shrug. “What? He's just saying hello. No harm in that, right?”

    Though the girl looked as easy-going as ever, there was a certain reluctance to address, let alone approach, Gammariah as he slept. A small grin appeared on her face as she darkly quipped a joke, “Besides, are you sure he's still living?”

    This was no doubt in reference to the unusually sound sleep the warrior had sunken into. While Wren masked it with humor, something about his condition seemed to have disturbed her. She did well to hide it in her voice, but the agitation was more evident in her refusal to approach him. It was almost as if she had an idea of his condition, despite asking about it.

    Of course, this all changed the moment Gammariah awoke and sorted the slime-situation out himself. Wren held her hands up arrogantly and shook her head, smirking at Sarah, “See? No harm done!”

    jmann said:
    “What is this?” Gammariah held out the creature like a child confused about a bug they’d found.
    Click to expand...
    Flub wiggled like a rag-doll in Gammariah's hands, his body stretched out with impossible elasticity. The fat little creature tilted its eyeless gaze up at him and gave no answer, but thankfully Wren had heard his innocent question and took it upon herself to indulge in his curiosity, "Uh, good question! I actually don't know either! I just call him Flub. He's mostly harmless."

    After preschooler questions were addressed and hands were uneaten by corrosive slime, Wren turned back to Sarah. "Ok, granny, Flub contained. Can you answer some questions now? First, I want you to tell me about—"

    Much to her annoyance, yet another interruption burst into the room and shouted about 'thief' this, and 'missing belongings' that. Could a girl do anything fun around here?

    Wren recognized the voice immediately, even before she slowly turned around to face Zareth. There was a devilish smile on her face, and an expression that seemed to make light of the crimes she had been accused of. "What? Gonna call the same guards that arrested you?"

    Much to her surprise, Gammariah stepped in before Wren could even think of the best way to gaslight the elf. His word choice was... quite something. It shocked Wren enough that she could only stare at him in utter awe, her mouth slightly ajar in disbelief. The smug grin spread across her face yet again as she crossed her arms and gave a small chuckle, "Hold up, did you just threaten to make-out with him? Oh I see. I've read enough yaoi to know where this is going. So this is where I've been isekaied to? I should have known by the shirtless strongman and the skinny elf with that haunted, yet feminine look. The classic set up. Didn't expect the torture scene, though."

    Her cheeky grin remained firmly plastered across her face when Gammariah growled at her next, but she couldn't take him seriously after his latest comment. Like she was being held at gunpoint, she raised her hands in mocking surrender, "Okay, okay, just don't go 'threatening' me. Firstly, stealing is a very strong and totally unfair assumption! When your boyfriend here was arrested — by you and your goonies, might I add — I quietly slipped his items away so that they wouldn't be taken. Once I had secured a hiding spot, I planned to give them back to Zaroth during a daring prison escape! It was going to be so much fun, at least until you went and ruined it all. I had to survive a night out there while you two cuddled in here. So unfair..."

    Wren crossed her arms in a way that clearly showed off her mangled arm, as if it was proof of her struggles. It also seemed like a ploy to divert the conversation away from the book and staff in question.

    ThatWhichShouldBe ThatWhichShouldBe November Witch November Witch AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa

    The lesser wolves scattered at the Sun King's arrival, scrambling back instinctively at the emergence of prey that could fight back. They snapped and howled, their ghostly maws still slavering for the meal they had been temporarily denied. Eager to begin their chase, yet cautious of Han, they turned their eyes to their matriarch.

    Oshaka's white mane bristled at Han's words, her frozen teeth flashing in the morning sunlight. Frost curled around her paws, spreading outwards as if to counter the thawing earth born of Han's radiant heat. It was like the clash of summer and winter, a symbolism that was not lost upon the feral wolf-mother. A growl rumbled from deep within her chest, "I agreed to spare the Star-fallen, not all who may yet follow. I owe no honour to this sniveling runt."

    The while wolf took a prowling step closer, head lowered and white-blue eyes watching her prey carefully. As if eyeing a calf in a flock of elk, she seemed to be watching for the slightest gap in Han's defense. One that she might use to pounce on the Cynthora.

    Han could feel a burning sensation within his breast, born of the flickering blessing. It seemed to burn brightly in the defense of the cowering woman, filling him with a familiar warmth that made the chilly air unnoticeable.

    In but an instance, Oshaka's attention was distracted by Autumn's sharp words. The ghostly pack recognized this newcomer, many of them having hounded her heels during the last night's battle. Snarls and growls erupted from the host of ghostly wolves, some of them scrambling over each other in an effort to get closer to Autumn. Though they kept their distance for now, it seemed a few of them wanted to lead the chase should it break out.

    Then Autumn called Oshaka a dog and the entire pack went silent and still. Ghostly eyes turned to their matriarch, ears perked and tails lowered.

    Matriarch Oshaka's response was swift and violent, like the crack of thin ice under pressure.

    "You dare!" her snarling voice shook the air, dropping the temperature far below freezing. In a flash of white fur and icy fangs, the Matriarch was upon Autumn. Her maw opened and snapped, aimed to tear out the fox's throat.

    For a brief moment, time seemed to slow. Autumn could see the wolf mid-leap, glimpse the fangs poised to tear her apart, yet there was a sensation nestled within fear and survival instinct. Something in her chest burned brightly, just as it had when she first received her blessing. It called to her, inviting her to grasp a hold of it in her moment of need. While she may not realize it exactly, yet another choice was presented to her. All she had to do was reach out for it.

    Untapped Power lay at her fingertips, shaped by this moment's desire. Protection? Retaliation? Avoidance? A power Autumn had never possessed would rise to her call, molding itself into the purpose she chose.

    Han could feel his own blessing well up at the sight of the Wolf-Mother's attack. Once again, he could feel the subtle compass swing like some guiding hand. To protect or attack. Despite how brightly his blessing had burned in defense of Cynthora, there was something unusual in the notion of attacking the Wolf-Mother. He could feel some sort of pull, as if sensing something within the beast.

    Cynthora would feel a much different sensation, a slight constriction on her heart. However, with all the fear she felt it would be difficult to separate the feeling from the more natural symptoms of terror. Even the chill in the air lent uncertainty to the unnatural cold that clung to her.

    Solirus Solirus
    Completely distracted from their training now, the two white-haired teens eagerly listened to Rodal's account, taking in every detail. Both of their eyes shone with a distinct reverence. While the girl looked a little skeptical, the boy seemed to be taking everything in.

    “You could have killed her even without a parting-blessing?” He asked, his voice full of admiration and disbelief.

    The adoration the boy felt did not seem to be shared by the bowman, who up until now had been listening off to the side of the little group. There was a frown on his face, one that turned into a dark glower as Rodal claimed he had no need of Stalwart Bluff's assistance to have won. “Few are blessed with the Parting-Gift of a spirit, let alone that of a Greater Spirit... and here you are gloating. You were unworthy..."

    Sohaa raised a brow to the young archer, his voice stern as she rounded on him, "Mind your tone, Enko. This warrior saved a great many lives. Had it not been for Rodal and the other Star-Fallen, we may now have been under the Elf-Kin's yoke. This man bled and killed for you. Show some respect!"

    The archer, Enko, narrowed his eyes. He stood his ground against Sohaa. "Respect? What of Stalwart Bluff, Bright Sky, Whispering Wind... what of their sacrifice? We have lost so many Spirits, faster than we can complete their sacred rites. Soon we will have lost them all. Cloud-Home will crumble before they return to us."

    "Enough!" Sohaa raised his voice and pointed to a corner of the training yard, "Go reflect on your words. I shall deal with you later."

    Scoffing, Enko slung his bow across his shoulders and stalked off to the corner of the training yard. There he sat, fuming silently as she glared at Rodal from afar. In kind, the two white-haired teens gave him a few dirty looks of their own, clearly in disagreement to the things he had said.

    After he was gone, Sohaa gave Rodal an apologetic look and a half bow. "Please forgive his outburst. All of us in Cloud-Home owe you and your allies a great debt."
 
Autumn Ichor
AI-RS-Stand.png



Status: Frustrated & Angry
Location: Battlefield
Interaction(s): Juju Juju ThatWhichShouldBe ThatWhichShouldBe AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa

Autumn was certainly afraid. Her tail was almost in between her legs, though she managed to just keep it from doing so. Her legs were slightly trembling, and her hands were balled into fists. Her anger thankfully managed to hide most of the other indicators in her face or voice. She stood her ground, between the radiant heat of Han and the unyielding cold of the Matriarch. Autumn was done running away, and making others do the work of protecting or fighting in her stead. She’d glance back down, seeing the mage’s body there only steeled her resolve. Who knew someone Autumn had never known would give her so much determination, and so drastically change her?

Even with the Wolf Mother lunging towards Autumn, she took a single step forward to meet the incoming blizzard that was the Matriarch. Autumn would decide to have faith in the growing sensation within herself. While protection was certainly at the forefront of her mind, for the innocent deer person specifically. Autumn knew her words had gotten to the wolf, and she now had the attention of the wolf. Meaning she may be able to distract her while the other gets away. Avoidance of the Wolf Mother was the Path Autumn would take.
 
Han Liuyang
Location: Battlefield

There are truths that transcend worlds, and things that cannot be helped. Mother Oshaka could not be swayed by words, he knew that. In her world there was the pack, the hunt, and prey- And that was all there was. The laws of the wild were the only ones she abided by. This encounter would have always ended in only one way. In the resolution of strengths, in blood, the strong would be victor and the weak would die. The fundamental truths of violence. And so when the wolf lunges, Han Liuyang is ready. His wraps twist as they unfurl, ribbons joining and twining together to form a Ji halberd of silver.

Autumn is retreating, avoiding the wolf's jaws. Good. That gave him more room to work.

The halberd twirls as Han Liuyang moves to intercept. The halberd's crescent blade swings out in a pristine arc, as he swings at Oshaka to knock her aside and to toss her back. The once-God can feel that candleflame within him singing and seeking, reacting with something within the Wolf spirit as it demands he strike. He can't be sure what. But Han puts the weight of his divine soul and blessing into the blow, and so the halberd's head shines gold, wreathed in sunfire. His blessing collects itself like rivers coming together, a coursing stream that burns in time with the weight of his will.

And then it connects.
 
Heaing Lucille say her name did Valleni's heart a world of good, and her request to help the others was exactly the sort of the thing the mage expected from the one she loved. And it was for Lucille alone that the lightning savant would do everything in her power to ensure the safety of the other people. Unless things got bad enough where she had no choice to grab Lucille and run for it, then they would be on their own. With that in mind quickly made her way over to the blindfolded woman and gave her a quick hug while simultaneously casting the Electric Sight enchantment on her. Releasing the hug she grabbed the first sturdy looking tree branch she could grab and used the Finger Zap spell to cut it off the tree and trim off the branches and excess length before pressing in into Lucille's hands. She knew the other woman would understand that while it wasn't the same as her cane that it would be better than nothing and would do the job until they could get her something better.
Taking Lucille's other hand in her own, the dark-haired mage guided her over to where the others were before addressing the assistant. "How long is this spell going to take to prepare?"

"As long as my lord needs. Perhaps a few minutes or less depending on the leyline."

Valleni had to wonder what kind of crude, improvised spell would take minutes to cast. It was quite frankly pathetic, and while she didn't say anything about it, the narrowing of her eyes may have betrayed her irritation to the assistant, and the change in her bio-electric activity most definitely that she was annoyed to Lucille. Quickly flashing the signal for 'stay close' to the woman she loved, the mage then released her hand before taking position closer to the approaching bird things. She would have to be away from the others to avoid accidentally zapping them, but for Lucille the safest place would be right by her side. At least that's how they always handled every other dangerous situation, they stayed next to each other and Valleni fried everything attacking them.

"Take out the little ones, I'll handle the big one," she called out to Mallory. With any luck they would be competent enough to handle that so she could save her mana for the main threat. But she didn't truly trust them, and as such she quietly cast a few Electric Wall spells at key entrances to the ruins to help thin the numbers a bit. Then she turned her attention back to looking for signs of the bird leader. All she needed was for a clear shot at it and hope it wouldn't bring down the ruins on top of them. While she waited for her chance, electricity flowed over her body and started to gather in her palms, waiting to be unleashed as a pair of the strongest lightning bolts she could muster.

Juju Juju seasonedcat seasonedcat
 
((Wren reaction approved/given to me by Juju))

Sarah's eyes narrowed slightly as she observed Wren's body language as the much younger woman commented about the slime and the other man. She wasn't sure what to make of how the youngster was behaving, at least not yet. The fact that Wren didn't even know what kind of creature she had with her was did cause the elderly swordswoman to give a small sigh. "Your 'Flub' appears to be some form of slime creature, perhaps just a bit smarter than a standard slime."

With the man now awake and moving, Sarah decided she may as well take advantage of the opportunity to ask a quick question before anything else happened, to try to confirm a suspicion of hers. "Good morning young man. Did you sleep well, or was your rest interrupted by an obnoxious dream-vision? Perhaps involving a shining orb and cracked ground leaking black water?" She also intended to watch Wren to see how she reacted to the question.

Of course, as luck would have it before she could get an answer the elf from earlier waltzed back in and started to accuse the young slime owner about stolen items. With a soft noise of frustration Sarah closed her eyes for a moment, wishing that something would actually work out for once so she could get more info about what was going on or for the others to actually show signs of being able to work together. For now though, as she wasn't involved with the situation with the missing items at all, Sarah decided to stay out of it, at least for now, and wait for it to hopefully be resolved in a peaceful manner.

However... Wren's injured arm caught the old woman's attention. While she wasn't exactly in the best of shape to move around, her arms still worked just fine. "You need to get that arm taken care of. Even if we had access to high power healing or medical nano-tech you don't want to risk infection. I can at least bandage that better than what you've got now."

Perhaps distracted by what was going on, or just uncaring about the severity of the injury, Wren did little more than say a simple "Right. Uh, thanks I guess," before moving a bit close so Sarah could get to work. The wounds looked like they were caused by some kind of talon, but oddly despite how deep they were they didn't seem to be bleeding or even inflamed or swollen yet. It was odd, but at the moment she figured it might be better to wait and ask about if after things calmed down a bit.

Juju Juju jmann jmann seasonedcat seasonedcat
 
Rodal
With text from: Juju Juju ​

"No, no, it's my fault." Rodal responded to Sohaa's request for the boy's forgiveness. Though Rodal wasn't surprised in the bit at this, Enko's outburst, it was perfectly natural and fair, in the end Rodal was clearly acting in an arrogant manner if not in an innocent yet oblivious fashion. "I might've offended him with the way I phrased stuff. Wish I was half as good at talking as I am with a weapon. I was thinking of helping you guys out, but it'd feel wrong if I didn't clear things up with Enko over there first." Rodal would comment before making his way towards Enko.

"It would be best to save that until after he calms down. He has a fierce temper, as you have seen..." Sohaa suggested to no avail as Rodal continued approaching Enko.

The boy's eyes would glare at him, a mixture of anger and ferocity, "Hey buddy, sorry about the way I said things. Haven't been here for too long so, I sometimes come off a bit wrong and offend others. But less than a day, and I've already been learning a lot, I learned who the enemies are, I've learned and met the spirits, and I've even learned how to show respect to them." Rodal explained truthfully, his voice was sincere but still held some pride to it.

"But right now, I just wonder..." Rodal followed by crouching down to Enko's level, his demeanor no longer gave the sense of a cocky hero who'd just gotten lucky, but instead of a warrior who took lives just as easily as he breathed. His eyes now wide open, displaying his anticipation and bloodlust. "How badly do you want to kill those Astellians?" Rodal whispered, his sights unflinching and unblinking.
 
N'GHA ILLL YOGFM'L
ONTO THE NEXT
SAME OLD SONG AND DANCE ​

"Hah! HAH! Hahahaha!"​

Lilliana cackled wildly as she was caught out of the air, the slightly unhinged laughter joining the ear ringing symphony that was the golems death cry. The witch tilted her head back to watch the fruits of her labor, violet and greens mixing with a slightly deranged glint in her eyes. She was still giggling slightly as she was put down. "Fuck! You never get used to it!" Adrenaline danced through her system, filling her with a floaty, energized feeling. "Ahk'thanor, I am in debt for saving me from nasty headache." Lilliana slicked back her hair, flecks of it sticking to her face anyways, glued on by a thin sheen of sweat. "Will help." she said simply, suddenly bereft of her sudden jolt of disarrangement, her metaphorical screws suddenly tightened. She turned away, looking for the detached golem arm. Finding it just a few paces away, she jogged over. "Just need my baby. Would be idiot move to fight without blade. You wait one second, no crying." She said dismissively, reaching down to the decorated hilt of Voskhad and grunting as she pulled it from the wood. Lilliana inspected the blade, holding the well crafted stilletto dagger gently as a real baby as she looked for dents. "Okay! Am good. We come back for other blade, or I leave later to do myself." Lilliana said unbothered as she sauntered up to the beast, ignoring the archers hand as she vaulted up onto the mount behind the stick in the mud warrior. She rode side saddle behind the warrior, seemingly unworried as she continued to inspect her blade. "Am good. We leave now."

"AH!" She suddenly exclaimed. Lilliana reached forward and wiped her blade on the exposed cloth on the warriors armor. "Much better. Was dirty." She said, grinning smugly at the man.
 
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zbuydv2.png

Elvish Prison
Juju Juju​


0fd5302cb789d52888df53bf99607dc7.jpg
"Please don't fret, Rishii. You will be alright with me by your side." Doi remained unfazed throughout, for Her blessing was with her. And as long as that held true, her faith would see her free. But though she expected another period of waiting, it seemed that a higher-up finally recognized her presence. She came in the form of a ruby butterfly, illuminating the cell in crimson. Decidedly not her true form, but a welcome reprieve.

It landed on her nose, and Doi allowed it without a fuss. She basked in its light, and smiled. "My name is Doi Murakami. I owe my life and my mission to the Guiding Star. It is She who sent me to this battlefield to aid the faithful." Doi stretched her arms as wide as she could. "She has granted me the power to bring back those who fell in Her name. It is a gift through which I have healed and saved countless with."

But words can only do so much. She knew this well. "If you do not accept my tongue, then allow me the chance to define myself through action. I wish to see one of your dead. Rank and species do not matter—but do not humor me with a speechless beast. I do not ask for much more."
 


__jessica_reverse_1999_drawn_by_phino__sample-9f9b8ac0fe11a9d79d80a3b6e1c4edd8.jpg
Not long ago, Cynthora didn't even bat an eye at her impending second death. But, as her mind calmed and the others' sensibilities steadied her resolve, Cynthora's instincts of self-preservation also returned. Instincts that kicked her deer body into motion, recoiling away from the lunging Wolf Mother.

Time appeared to slow down. The others hopped in to her defense, and her thoughts ran rampant. Would this second chance already lead to more unnecessary killings? Will there ever be a home where combat would be the last solution? With fists and maws about to connect, Cynthora's heart sunk with reality setting in. This was the real world, after all...

In this moment of horror and realization, she could not do anything but turn head in silence.
 

  • 1716952138940.pngZareth | Cloud-Home

    Zareth let out an offended noise at Gammariah's words, tensing up as he frowned even deeper, "Excuse me?" He spoke in offense but in an audibly quieter tone. Thankfully, Gammariah continued to reprimand the girl, so he quieted his anger enough to let the other speak. Even if the words started with an insult, Zareth appreciated the other having their back in some way.

    at Wren's words a deep flush covered Zareth's face as a look of horror falls over him, "What in the stars are you talking about?! That human and I have no such relation, nor would ever?!" Zareth spoke in a hushed, high-pitched tone, his entire body tense.

    "You speak like you had any plans of helping me; you made it very clear your opinions of elves aligned with the citizens here when, lest I need to remind you, handed me over as some bargaining chip," Zareth narrowed his eyes at Wren, a soft blush still fading from his face, "if you hid them as you claim you did, then where exactly are they? Enough of your useless stalling; tell me where my staff and book are immediately." As the older woman began to help heal Wren, Zareth's expression turned sour, "You know where I come from, we wait until after the criminal gives us information to heal them. Something that appears to be a shared trait here, considering how I was treated when I got here."

    interactions | Juju Juju jmann jmann YsFanatic YsFanatic

 
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GAMMARIAH | Infirmary Gammariah.png
Juju Juju seasonedcat seasonedcat YsFanatic YsFanatic

Gammariah was stunned, nearly speechless. The girl who owned the slime said so many words with such little meaning. It would come as no surprise if she had been fever-stricken from her mangled arm. It was either that or her world was so alien their language had no crossover.
Hallward would have loved her; he knew more languages than Gammariah and delighted in concepts so specific to their culture they had no translation. He shared, in secret, that elves had a word for love so powerful you could feel its hold well beyond death. Gammariah mocked the notion like he did anything of the Astellians. He understood it in that moment. Years, maybe centuries, after his death and he still knew how Hallward’s head fit in the crook of his neck like a puzzle piece. Gammariah could not process the notion he would have kissed the elf, if that was even what she was teasing. Gammariah rubbed his wrist where he had once worn a bracelet of bronze given to him by Hallward. He had taken it off before battle; it was likely gone to time now.

Lost in thought, he was ripped back into the world as the elderly woman spoke up. Gammariah dipped his head in respect. She asked of the dream, of orbs and pools of water. It was just as he had experienced. It affirmed his belief; they had all been sent by the saint to stop whatever dark power was growing like a tumour outside their view. But the girl was still injured, had she chosen the dark pool and not the saint? Did that make her an agent of the evil? Gammariah was not used to questioning the world so widely, it was a long time since he had more questions than answers.
“I see it’s not just me, then. You dreamt of the saint as well?” He turned to the girl, “What did she tell you?”
Gammariah tried to mask the concern in his voice.
“And who in the world is Zaroth? An accomplice of yours?”
 

  • YsFanatic YsFanatic + jmann jmann + seasonedcat seasonedcat + Wren
    As Sarah adjusted the bandages, Wren carefully watched the older woman's reaction to the wounds beneath. Luckily for her, if Sarah noticed something off, then she didn't mention it, which was exactly the way Wren liked to keep things. At the confusion over Flub she gave a nonchalant shrug, “Eh, I don't really care what he is anymore.”

    What she did care about was the drama between Zareth and Gammariah. Her blue eyes flicked between them, an impish smirk plastered on her face as she watched the conversation turn away from her. She actually didn't expect them to get this flustered over her joke. Maybe she was actually right?

    “Ah, I see. Slow burn it is.” Wren snickered, examining her newly bandaged arm. Her teasing was a poorly disguised attempt to distract Zareth from his questions, but of course, it wasn't that easy. When directly asked about the staff and grimoire, she sheepishly chuckled. “Right, so funny story...”

    Before she could put her silver tongue to good use, she was bombarded with yet another question from Gammariah about ‘Zaroth’ and a Saint. The mention of dreams had already caused Wren to tense up, but the outright interrogation seemed to have put her on the defensive.

    “You’re killing me here, beefcake. I meant Zarenth!” Slyness turned into a wince as Wren threw up her arms, clutching her head with both hands. “Ugh, too many questions! Can we just slow down a moment, so I can try to remember? I never would have gone to visit Granny if I knew you guys would be this annoying!”

    After taking a moment of respite, her eyes squinted in focus, Wren glanced up at the three staring at her. “Alright, let's get this straight. I had a funny dream too, but I didn’t see a cracked ball or shiny water or any saint. Unless you mean that blindfolded girl, but she was too busy crying to say anything. That, and the fact we were both drowning. Also, I wouldn’t call it a dream because I wasn’t sleeping. I was in the middle of finding a good spot for Zaren’s stuff when I blacked out. I don’t remember anything afterwards, except waking up like this.”

    She waved her bandaged arm for all to see, displaying the tears in her cardigan made by some sort of claws. Giving Zareth a pointed look, she added, “And before you freak out, I have a general idea where your stuff is, I just don’t remember exactly. I can help you find it, though."

    ( YsFanatic YsFanatic )
    Sarah felt something unusual the moment Wren mentioned her lack of memory. It was a subtle, uncomfortable twist in her stomach, as if possessed by a sudden pang of hunger. From her years of experience and knowledge of herself, Sarah would know that this sensation was both unusual and foreign. There was no way it had come from herself. Something was channelling through her.

    At that moment, she was struck by the memory of her husband smiling at her. Or rather, something had summoned the image of her husband to smile at her as a means of communication. It was identical to the method she had experienced in the dreamscape.

    She couldn't explain how, but Sarah would get the feeling that Wren’s lost memory could be retrieved. The hunger in the pit of her stomach grew stronger with the mere thought, as if to guide or tempt. It was almost as if she could feel the misplaced memory clinging to Wren, like a loose thread in need of tugging. If she could just reach out, she knew that it could be grasped and pulled. What happened afterwards was unknown, as was the possibility that Wren would be aware.


    Solirus Solirus
    Rodal’s abrupt change in tone seemed to surprise the teen, but it did not frighten him. A look of confusion passed over his face before it fell back into a glower. He narrowed his eyes, listening to the grim words and the chilling tone beneath them.

    “I do not fear death, if that is what you mean…” the boy spat, his eyes full of a searing loathing. A hatred burned in there, but Rodal could see that it was not just towards some overconfident warrior. It was to an entire people.

    “They all deserve to die for what they did, and I would gladly be the one to do so if given a chance.”

    He gave Rodal a cool, unflinching glance. Despite the age and power difference between the two, the boy regarded him without fear. His lips were curled in an ornery sneer, "Is this the part where you tell me you somehow have that power? If it is, you can go away and join the rest of those fools with their hollow promises."

    Now that Rodal was quite close to the boy, he could see that the strange tattoos on his neck were in fact made from scarification. They formed into elaborate wings around his neck, creating a partial collar around his throat. It appeared to have been made by blades, and considering how the tattoo spanned across such a vital area, the process must have been a delicate and painful one.

    November Witch November Witch ThatWhichShouldBe ThatWhichShouldBe AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa (Cynthora)

    Avoidance. To be delivered from harm without placing it on another. Autumn could feel her blessing burn brightly within her chest, like a dollop of sunlight caught between her ribs. It felt as warm and comforting as the smile of an old friend, as if to whisper, 'I am here.'

    The flows of time resumed all at once.

    Like the unfurling of the first bud in spring, light blossomed behind Autumn in a cluster of delicate strands. They unwound up and around her, catching the morning light as gossamer caught the wind. A set of wings, so close to translucence that they could have been made of wind itself. Feathers of purest light swooped up and down, bearing Autumn away from danger in one graceful movement. Then, like a fluttering gust, they were gone. She could still feel them there though, somehow, like phantom limbs.

    Fangs of ice snapped shut, but what they found was only the fleeting spring breeze. Just as the last snows turned to rain, there was no avoiding the approach of summer. Sunfire flashed on the halberd's edge as it bit into the Wolf Mother's flank. Snarls of rage turned to pain as golden flame engulfed her white fur like it was made of dried leaves. She howled in pain and threw herself to the earth, staining her pearly hide with gore and refuse to quench the hungry flame. It did little.

    The flames seemed to have a mind of their own, leaping to engulf and destroy any ghostly wolf that got too close to their leader. Her pack scattered away from her out of fear, whining and howling as they watched helplessly in a wide ring around her. Unlike the wolves, Autumn would find that the flames did not harm her, even if she were to touch them against her skin. As for Cynthora, the harsh heat against her face was fair enough warning for what might occur should she try.

    "How? You--" Oshaka roared, setting her sights on Han, "Foul-blooded! Cursed!"

    Still burning from the golden flames, she rose from the earth to lunge at the Sun-King in a fit of wild bloodlust. The edges of the wound Han had made was beginning to fray, bleeding with a pure black liquid. It formed a trail of inky puddles in the wolf's wake, spilling onto the bloody battlefield.

    Han could feel words forming in the back of his mind. Sinner. Glutton. The same power flared up in response to Oshaka's newest attack. Should he will it, he knew that the same flames he had summoned would once again rise up at his command.

    Despite the heat, Cynthora, felt a chill run through her body. Something twisted in her chest, like strings being pulled tight. Even if she had turned her gaze away, she would feel her eyes sting as if they had beheld the flame. A headache was threatening to form.
 
Han Liuyang
Location: Battlefield

Autumn is spirited away on wings of Golden Light- And Han suspects he is not the only one that mysterious Goddess blessed. Were all the Star-Fallen pawns in some divine game? Now that he thought of it, that seemed only natural. There is heat and light as Han levels his halberd at the snarling wolf, watching her with an impassive look as she recoils from the might of his golden flame. Her furious pained cries elicit no reaction from him- She would not pity him for his pains, and he would not give such sentiment in turn. Han glances back at his charges- Autumn's newfound wings of grace made her assuredly safe. Cynthora- Cynthora was shrinking further, turning in on herself. Han frowns, looking back to Oshaka, and making a decision.

The Wolf-Mother forces herself to rise. The King of the Rising can feel something. pulsing in the back of his head. That burning sentiment to attack Oshaka, to defend Cynthora, had turned from emotion to a voice. To words. It denounces his opponent. Naming them foe, marking them as a stain to be cleansed in fire. The Wolf-Mother's children cannot bear the flames, and so Oshaka attacks alone into the teeth of the Sun King. The words rise. Strike her down. Exert your divine will. You are right and true. Crush what stands in your way. It was a transparent concept, backing his flames.

Pathetic.

Perhaps the Goddess of Stars was a young goddess, inexperienced and unknowning. Or perhaps she was a fool that understood nothing of the mantle he'd cast aside. For if she had any comprehension of him, of his nature, she would never think to make such a request. He'd just seen the quaking, shuddering Cynthora- unable to bear this divine fire even in proximity. The flame on Han's halberd dims, retreating, as he pulls it back. The head of the halberd shifts, blunting- no longer a sharp-edged halberd but instead a blunt staff. The simple stave was the first weapon Han had ever wielded, the one that he had beaten back the Seven Kings of Blood with at the dawn of his divinity, before he had been gifted the Moon-Wraps. Han strikes- In her rage, Mother Oshaka was predictable. The King neatly steps to the side to slap her wound with the end of his pole, knocking her aside again. A simple chastisement, just enough to hurt and stop her.

If the Goddess would not see it, then he would make her understand. Han Liuyang was the Sun, the Dawn. There were principles that stood in his soul, whether Divinity rested upon them or not. The Sun illuminates Day- blessing with its light and its warmth, scouring away night. But when mortals can bear it no longer, the Sun ceases to burn. The Sun sets. No matter what the Star-Goddess wanted, his flame was not hers. It was his, and the Sun knew mercy.

"Enough, Oshaka! You will not and cannot hurt either of them. End this before you make your children orphans."

The strong rule. This was the law of the wild. And if the strong offer mercy, the weak had no right to gainsay it. Oshaka had one chance.
 
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"Saint?" Sarah starts with a scoff. "All I saw were two gods, or beings giving the impression they were trying to be gods, each trying to draw me to their side. There's too many cases on too many worlds of that going badly for the mortal, so I rejected both and walked away. Got swallowed by a giant fish for my trouble." The swordswoman gives a small shrugs as she finishes responding to the young man. "But this at least confirms that at least some, if not all of us had this experience. And honestly, I wouldn't worry about what people picked if that's a concern of yours. Either one, or both, could be good or bad. Speaking of which..."

The elderly woman glanced over at Wren with a raised eyebrow. "The fish apparently deals in memories and its letting me sense that your missing memory is... out of place so to speak. Going by how its acting, I could be wrong but I'm guessing its a memory eater...." she abruptly pauses before chuckling. "And it seems I've disappointed it by telling you this. Going to count that as a win for me. Anyway, in theory I could do the opposite and push the memory back in place, but to be honest I wouldn't take the risk. Too much could go wrong with the attempt."

Juju Juju seasonedcat seasonedcat jmann jmann
 
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