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Fantasy Classic Fantasy: Gathered Misfits

Elise looks between the Nasanru and Halk, unsure of how to answer either question. Her panic decides to get the better of her. Her eyes dart between the two people furiously as she mumbles an answer. The answer itself wasn't really answering any of their questions but she thinks it'll keep them both from asking her any more questions until she comes up with an answer. Elise's mumbled words go like this, "I'm not feeling well, I need some time alone please.. Thank you both for understanding"


After Elise's quiet breakdown she heads back into the caravan to the box she had been locked in right after her family was murdered. She can't close the lid on herself but it was a tight enough fit even without the top. She uses this time now to think about what she wants, what she really wants. She starts to think of weapons, armours, people, problems, her family. O how she misses her family.


Gregory's eyes flutter softly open to absorb the area around him. Unfortunately for him, he was still bound to the bed. Things could be worse though. He at least had a blanket over him now. Though it did feel some what itchy against his sensitive skin. Gregory can't see much other than Sibel, Roxii, two soldiers and his own feet. He knows five were here when he came in but isn't sure where they went. Did they die? Are they better? Where's the legless one?


Gregory asks himself a million questions but continues to say nothing. He closes his eyes once more and drifts off into the sweet peace of his dreams. The place where all is calm and balanced. Where everyone shares and loves all the same. The place where they all worship Heid'Zuu and no one wants to question it. That is his sweet serenity of a dream scape.


However, as he dreams of things most sweet, Sibel makes her way over to him. Sibel's hand gently rub against his forehead to take his temperature. She seems quite a sweet thing with no streak of hatred or aggression in the slightest. However she is quite the rowdy one once naked and sharing a bed. Sibel lets out a quiet sigh and makes her way over to a section of the tent that seems nothing more than stacked supplies and blankets. Underneath the blankets however, she has a rather woeful set of beakers and vials all containing fluids and mashed up plants.


It seems that Sibel is a herbalist or perhaps trying to expand her horizons as an apothecary. As Sibel continues to study the plants in the vials, jolt down notes and try to combine different fluids together, she peers her head out of the blankets to make sure everyone was asleep or away. Once satisfied she goes back under them and sets a small fire beneath one of the glass beakers with nothing more than her mind and finger tips. The fluid boils quickly as though her fire was producing such a focused area of heat it had the ability to make any liquid exceed boiling point in a matter of seconds.
 
Halk raised his eyebrows. He had stopped listening once Roxas said 'forge is covered in plant life.' "My forge is what now? Oh no, you probably did that." Halk said, remembering that was a way Nymphs marked their territory. The fact that she considered his forge her territory was slightly amusing. "Well hm." Halk said, waving goodbye to Nasanru and casting a wary gaze in the direction Elsie last went. Finally registering Roxas last inuendo. Halk shook his head. "Not right now. I have to add projectile protection spells to about sixty sets of armor. You can watch if you like, I could teach you a bit." Halk strolled over to his forge, and it was indeed covered in plants. And flowers. And stuff. "Nice touch," Halk mused, walking inside.


There was ten chestplates piled outside his door. Halk picked one up, it was made of steel. The thing had to weigh about thirty pounds, it probably belonged to one of the heavy mages. "Steel is easy to work with," He grunted, hefting the armor onto his workbench, noting the plate of food that was left for him, but ignoring it for the timebeing. "Really, a rune is all you need to do, and the whole surface is set." There were already a couple runes on this one that Halk had put on earlier, blow deflection, shock absorbant. The new rune he carved out with a chisel under the other two, then connected all three with a triangle that was pointing upwards, although the 'triange' of runes was pointing downwards. "Once you have too many runes, they get confused with eachother, so only one can be active at a time." Halk tapped the chestplate. "What I did right here made it so the runes are linked, and they all work together. If I were to add more runes, they'd have to follow the pattern." Halk motioned to his jacket, all the different swirls touching eachother. "My jacket's different, all the runes are linked together, so instead of them reading one at a time, they spell out one word. A pretty long word, but a word nonetheless." Halk moved the chestplate to the 'done' chute, pleased at the sliding sound it made when it clanked into the box outside, and picked up the next one, a leather piece.
 
Roxas touched plants and flowers as she entered the forge watching at the plants grew under her touch. She smiled, and listened carefully to Halk. "Rue's, hmm, I bunked with an enchantress once, she had a rue carved into her hand." Roxas told Halk, her eyes on the chest plates. "I'm fond of your jacket, the enchantress I was with wore something along those lines, very lovely, I don't know where she is now, probably deep in the South. It's safer there, then it is anywhere else." She spoke sadly. "I visited my sisters in the southern forests, humans are starting there way into the south, it's getting bad. Halk, I think we should ask the beasts of the south to help us." Roxas said, running a finger along the leather price he was about to start working on.


"I know you don't want to, but if you come with me, my siblings have already started to ask around, so maybe you could rally them together and get them to camp. A few beasts in this fight would be perfect." Roxas said. "That Lich should send for help as well, he probably has a few cards up his sleeve." She muttered.
 
On this early morning Vurfon walked on the worn path each step came with a deep thud as his hooves hit the ground. Vurfon stood roughly nine foot tall and was known for his kindness and was respected by most creatures in the southern woods. Though he was kind all knew not to take advantage of his kindness for he would not hesitate to stand up against those who tried. His trips often took all day but as long as he knew all was well it was worth it. As he was finishing his trip Vurfon slowly walked towards his cave. The sun was setting and he was exhausted and ready for a well deserved rest.


Vurfon thought of himself as the defender and peace keeper of the creatures residing in the woods. So he often went on daily rounds to ensure all was well in the woods.
 
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Halk held up the leather armor, regaurding it curiously. This one had his usual protections on it, but since it was made of leather, it would be a bit easier to enchant. He tossed a stick of iron into the fire. "It's not that I don't want to, its that I'm not the #1 man in charge." Halk murmered a few words and took the iron out of the forge, curling it around his hand, working his fingers into loops. It did not burn him. He set it down on his workbench and put on one of his clawed gauntlets, shaping more defining characteristics out of it. "And they always have a price for their help. Unless if they come on their own, there's nothing I really support." He affixed the metal piece to the leather armor and tossed it in the 'done' chute. "If you want to do it, that's fine, but you don't speak on behalf of the east. Magickind are proud folk, I'm not sure if you've figured that out yet."


 
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A group of about sixty men trekked through the southern woods. All humans, all wearing heavy armor and carrying weapons. A large wagon rattled behind them, carrying barrels of oil, rope, kindling, twine, a few rocks. The leader motioned for them to halt. "Ten minutes rest men, I want the horses watered, armor and weapons checked, you know the drill." The men went about their buisness. News had come from the division that went north, there were only four survivors. They told of an invisible assassin, a man who used shields as weapons, a strange man in a shimmering coat that turned blades to water and caught magic, and lastly, a ten foot tall skeleton that commanded an army of the dead. The commander wasn't happy about these odds, having about two thirds as many men as the enemy, but he believed he was smarter than those damned sparkle heads. He had a few ways of evening the odds. The ten minutes was up, and he called his men to fall in. At this pace, they'd reach the southern-eastern border in six hours. He planned for a sleeping time, but it would be abnormal. He had something special in mind.


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Roxii's coma-like state was plagued with nightmares, as per usual. Twisted memories and visions of her past that haunted her every day of her life. The most prominent were her first years after all of her family passed away. Flashes of beatings, whips, cuts and burns, and other forms of torture and punishment crossed her dream-vision. But her distorted and darkened mind made the lashes more painful, more gruesome, as her flesh was ripped open and her blood painted her body and surroundings in beautiful disarray.


Inhaling deeply as her body awoke, she snapped her eyes open, sat up and, in desperate confusion, began reaching for her dagger, which wasn't in its usual place. Gazing around cautiously, the previous events that led her to this place came flooding back to her, fitting back into place slowly much like puzzle pieces snapping together. The assassin slowed her racing heart and staggered breathing in an attempt to calm herself, realizing that she wasn't in any true danger—she hoped. Averting her gaze down to her thigh where the gaping, poisoned wound was once before, she noticed that the gash had completely healed, and the poison that was coursing through her veins had disappeared. Whatever that healer, Sibel, had given her, it worked wonders, and she couldn't deny the fact that she was impressed.
 
Elise rises from her chest of self pity. Her mind slows in its race of questions and becomes consumed by answers. Her eyes are puffy and her cheeks stained red from her sorrow of haunted memories. It seems clear to her what she must request of the blacksmith. Her small feet stagger across the caravan's floors to the tray. Her eyes, still blurred with tears, misjudge the distance between her feet's placement as she tumbles off the back tray and lands face first in the mud. The wet soil soaks into the front of her fur clothes and knots her red hair.


A single soldier rushes to her aid. He speaks in a deep yet sweet tone "Take my hand, I can get y-" to which Elise snaps back after pulling her face from the mud, "I don't need your help!" Elise wastes no time in pulling herself up without the help of the soldier. She tries to brush the mud off her front but ends up smearing it about herself. She lets out an angered growl of frustration before storming her way to the workshop. As she enters the front doors her foot hits a hard plant, a root perhaps, and she begins to fall face down to the floor yet again. "I'm getting sick of this place and its tripping hazards!!" she screams. Her hands shoot out in front of her as to prevent herself from breaking her nose or anything from her face on these hardened floors.


~


Gregory angles his head up at the sound of rustling sheets on a nearby cot. He can see the back of Roxii's head as she sits up and reaches around for something. With much consideration in a total of two seconds he calls out to her "You all right?"


Gregory's call out to Roxii alerts Sibel that her patients were awake and about. She quickly puts out the flame in which she was using to boil plant matter and runs out from under the blankets that were draped over the boxes in the corner. Sibel rushes over to Roxii and tries to tend to her needs. "Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?"
 
Halk stopped working a moment, he was done with his last piece of armor afterall. The girl was not in a good mood. If Halk had learned anything in the army, it was that the few women that were there had extremely high tolerance levels, but also some pretty explosive tempers. It appeared the younger ones were no exception. Well, he would be too if he had his face and front smeared in mud. He turned his attention away from Roxas and his work and knelt down. "I'm sorry you feel that way. is there anything I can do to help, little one?" his coat shimmered, touching the ground. "Have you thought about what you want me to make you yet? I plan to take a quick bath, so depending on what it is, I'll have it ready by tomorrow morning afternoon-ish maybe." Halk realized that the young girl might be feeling a bit neglected with Gregory laid up. Halk was an only child, so he knew how that felt. "You have my undivided attention."
 
Nasanru spent his nighttimes either making things or mediating. It was a hobby he had picked up and it really had no benefits for him as far and mystic power went, but it was relaxing and gave him a good mind set to think of new ideas or simply think back to the past. Nasanru could spend hours lost in his own memories, his life had been long and eventful, yet tonight his mind was blank, not memories flooded his mind, no thoughts of grand artifacts came to him there was nothing. he looked up at the stars and remembered the classes he had taken how science had tried to dissect the stars and align them, and in down so they had brought a whole new strange beauty to them. Life was like that even if you understood everything there was still a beauty in seeing how it all came together.


In the camp things happened, and Nasanru realized he had simply stayed with these people and yet never had they really tried to recruit him and reject him even Halk had in the end left him without much interesting conversation, but this was war soon something would happen and Nasanru wanted to stay for that besides Halk might prove fun tomorrow , but for now Nasanru would wait and think, perhaps he could make a little trinket for Halk.
 
Roxii transferred her gaze from her now-healed wound to Gregory and then to Sibel in respective order of events. The remnants of her nightmares—also known as her distorted memories—were still fresh in her mind, sending a disturbing chill down her spine. She hadn't realized that she was trembling; she believed she had all the reason to be afraid of her past, though. The assassin may be a reticent, tenacious, resilient character, but those moments of her late childhood and early adolescent years were some of the worst points in her life that top her conflict with the male bounty-hunter.


Remembering that she had been asked questions—well, it was actually the same one repeated in three different ways—, she answered, "I am fine."
 
Elise looks up at Halk with big, endearing eyes. Her lips were strangely straight as if she were trying to hide all emotions except for seriousness. Elise holds out a mud covered hand to Halk as she informs/scolds him about what she wants and the condition of how she wants it. Her voice is strangely powerful, almost snappy whilst remaining that of a gentle child's tone, "I want gloves. Gloves that are blue. These blue gloves will have metal knuckles. And particularly shiny sapphire gems in the knuckles. I have the gems for you if you need them. Any questions?"


Elise was never a spoilt child but she has always been determined when she wants something. She has a plan for these gloves that are more sinister than any other object she could want. If she were to let on why she wants these specific gloves there would be a fairly good chance of her not being able to get them. It's best just to leave it be with the instructions.


~


Gregory lays back down and closes his eyes again. His wounds had not yet healed but the skin around the deep gashes has begun to harden and leave a large, stone hard scab behind. It's clear that what ever Sibel gave him caused his healing affects to be more natural than magical. Sibel however disregards Roxii's comment of being 'fine' and continues to panic about her in a mad flurry of nurture, chaos and kindness.


Sibel brings her a bottle of blackberry mead, supplied by the merchants outside, and tries to feed it to her gently. Sibel hadn't given her anything to drink since she went into her coma like state. She expects that Roxii herself would love such a sweet and intoxicating beverage after her horror filled rest. Sibel speaks as she usually would to an awakened soldier or patient, "You're thirsty, drink.. Spare none for later. Just have it all for now."


~


Gregory falls into a deep sleep where he's surrounded by nothing more than his past memories and wishful dreams. He has a fairly standard dream of him riding a horse through his home township when his very dream's landscape is torn and shattered by another force. A voice calling out to him as loud as a whisper but as clear as a theatre performer's booming shouts. The voice belongs to that of a woman.. It speaks to him, "Thou hath faith. 'tis rare in lands afar. Come, belong to I as thou did in the lands of your forefathers. I shall keep thou safe 'n calm'd," Gregory tries to speak to the voice of his dreamscape but nothing comes out and she continues, "Thou hath greatness. Achieve for thy what thou hath done in first place. Stir in faith or rest in peace. Thy hath spoken, chosen one."


Gregory's dreams return to their normal form after that with him treasuring those words. Though he is asleep, he feels as if the words spoken were so real that his very life may have even been a dream.
 
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Halk's eyes lit up. "Ah, I see. You are a clever one, I admire your insight. Not being strong, you've decided to enhance your natural abilities." He was rubbing his chin now, the vision of what she wanted was already taking itself apart in his mind. "Very good, very good. Come by and drop off the gems tomorrow, I assume you'll want different reaction charms on each of them. The gloves themselves will have strength enhancing carms..." Halk shook his head, he was beginning to ramble. "Marvelous, just marvelous. I'll start on them tomorrow honey." Halk ruffled Elise's hair. "I look forwards to it."


Halk gathered the things he would need to take a bath and headed down to a stream in the woods. The sun was about halfway set allready, and he wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible. The sooner he slept, the sooner he could start on Elise's gloves. He was jealous that he hadn't come up with the idea. Aside from the gems, Halk almost never used gems in his work, too gaudy. Halk stripped and waded into the stream. It was delightfully warm, just the right temperature. This particular stream was right over a riftline, a place where a great spell was once cast, so much that the magic seeped into the earth. This place must have been a fire spell, because it gave off some heat. Halk began to wash up, pondering the events of the past few days.
 
The assassin hesitated. She couldn't object the fact that she was parched; Roxii didn't know how long she had been out, but, however long it was, it was long enough to make her throat dry. But she didn't like being cared for, especially now that she was healed and rejuvenated. Her pride soon overcame her basic desire for a necessity. "I said, I am fine," she snapped, turning away and getting up abruptly. Grabbing her lone dagger, she left the medic bay in silent fury.


Perhaps she had no real reason to snap at the healer. She was only trying to help, after all. But the recent events had left Roxii irritable and livid. She failed in her only line of work and was now paying for it, her past seemed to be coming back to haunt her, her only home had been invaded by damn bounty-hunters, she had lost basically all of her weaponry and armor, and now she was being treated like an injured, helpless patient by some healer who she barely knew at all. And to think that that stranger had dared to experiment on her with her insane elixirs and potions and God knows what else.


Casting her raging thoughts and bubbling anger off to the side almost instantly—as mentioned before, having emotions were deadly in her mind—she decided that one thing was first: she needed new equipment, now that she was practically defenseless. Roxii still had a job. The assassin made her way towards Halk's workshop, hoping he was there. He wasn't, which meant he probably went to bed. Taking a deep breath to smother her rising frustration, she decided to distance herself from everyone and everything, and that meant that she reasoned with herself that she didn't want to see the enchanter. She needed to clear her head and stop thinking so much; the camp and invasion and the war was all too much for her to handle at the moment.


Roxii went with the most traditional way of calming down: a serene stroll through the woods surrounding the camp. Fortunately, it was her second favourite time of day: sunset. The tendrils of light clawing at the horizon as they attempted to stay in the sky, much like a soul clinging to its dying body when its host is bleeding out. Oranges and yellows and reds blended in with the dying blues and purples and pinks, like a fire engulfing a mystical forest.


It wasn't long until Roxii heard the nearby stream winding through the landscape. Along with the disruption of the water. Someone was there. Continuing along as if she hadn't noticed, she figured that it was simply someone washing themselves of the grime and sweat and dirt that they've accumulated. Curiosity, however, gnawed at her mind's edge, wondering who this person was. Getting close enough to identify the person, she saw Halk, just who she didn't want to see right now. "Enɇohxa wyǐ."
 
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Halk heard the elven tounge and his head snapped in its direction. It was Roxii. "Jayziss, some privacy." he said, taking his towel and wrapping it around his waist. "Sneaking around during wartime isn't the smartest thing to do." He tossed on his shirt and his Jacket, the towel still wrapped around his waist. "You're liable to get yourself zapped."


Kelvin had listened to what Gerld had to say about the encampment. There would need to be stakes sharpened and placed at the bottom of the gorge, traps to be laid. He was in charge of that. He had a way with destruction magic, although he was still a bit of a newbie at it. He was glad the man had put some authority into him, he was becoming one of the most trusted people in the camp, aside from Halk. But Halk didn't fight, he made things. That fought for him. Kelvin thought about how Halk had caught lightening and sent it back at the caster, bursts of energy flung awry, into the ground. He wished he could do that, but he didn't have the skill to. Or the thought process. "Maybe someday," Kelvin sighed, and went off to bed.
 
Her facial expression unchanging from its apathetic look, Roxii exhaled slowly to keep herself calm. Of all the people she could run in to, why did it have to be him? "I wouldn't necessarily refer to walking around carelessly as 'sneaking'. Perhaps if you were more attentive to your surroundings, you would not need someone to watch your back." Her words were harsh, practically dripping with venom. The assassin's frustration was seeping from her very being, and her patience was wearing thin; she just wanted to get away and leave this horrid land.
 
Halk shrugged. "Ehh. You're the only one who's tried to kill me so far, so I think i'm good." He said, tugging on his pants. "And don't get snippy with me, if our places were reversed you'd try to strangle me. I think i like it when you talk less better, you've got pretty bad mood swings." Halk slung his wet things in a bundle over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow. Bring me anything you want me to enchant, I'll be in the forge all day." With that he trudged off to his forge to get some sleep.


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The men were getting anxious. If they waited any longer, things might go awry. Although if they chose to attack now, things could go awry. The commander spat on the ground. They were in a 'damned if you do damned if you don't' situation. No matter. It had to be done. Those damn mages needed to be wiped out. Them, then the elves, then the dwarves. That was the order of how far east they lived, mages closest to humanity, then the elves in the forests, then the dwarves in the high mountains. The commander had no problem with the dwarves, and was not looking forwards to fighting any elves. Dirty, pale, pointy things, elves. Those were pretty dangerous, and the dwarves too, but Magickind was worse than both pf them combined. Either way, their mission was still ahead of them. One of the soldiers had asked him a question, but the commander didn't hear. "Sir?" "What," The commander snapped. "Should we attack now?" The commander ran a hand through his hair. "Not yet," He said, donning his heavy battle helm, "Soon. Very soon."
 
As Nasanru meditated, more or less only to relax he felt as mystic traps were employed at various places though the camp. Magic ran like water though this place, like clam stream instead of rushing rapids like he preferred, but such was life rarely did you get what you wanted you just had to make due. Nasanru had honestly started to wonder if he should hang around a war was all fun and good but unless it was on a march it rarely accomplished much and this one seemed fairly willing to sit around and guard resources. A noble task but not the grand stories Nasanru wanted. If he wasn’t going to be going anywhere Nasanru felt that he should have stayed in the dungeon there he didn’t go anywhere but he had more control in what was going on. He still actually did while he had summoned someone to be in charge they he still did summon forth said steward to make sure everything ran smoothly and to make sure things were made as he wanting them all around managing things while letting the manager enforce his will. This was basic overlord stuff every dungeon owner that wanted a break did it though few seemed to ever want to leave. This all reminded him that it was about that time again for one such report, they were either weekly or bi weekly depending on Nasanru’s mood.


Nasanru stood and then knelt down extending a finger to the ground where it ignited in green flame and killed the grass as Nasanru drew a multitude of complex mystic sigils. He did not take his reports on paper or though some communication device, face to face chats were the best way to ensure that all was as well as Nasanru was told. The runes and symbols that Nasanru drew seemed to radiate and inner glow a dark red against Nasanru’s emerald green fire, they even seemed to move and squirm as all infernal scribblings did burning sane mortal minds with the burning desires of the infernal realms. This bloomed into a nearly 3 foot round circle or runes and lines all of which hard that crimson red glow to them. Now most summons of a demon required some blood, normal an animal for the lower ranks a person or other similar race for normal demons and more and more sacrifices the higher up the food chain you went, peaking at the demon lords. Nasanru didn’t need to make the hundreds of sacrifices required to summon the demon lord who watched over his dungeon due to their contract though he still needed the tainted summons circles which would remain burned into the earth for some time, years, before truly fading. Now the reason that only the circles were needed was because Nasanru held the demon in a contract and no matter what many thought demons always held up their ends of the deal and could be very amicable if this was understood and the terms were fair, if not they tended to look for loop holes and abuse the contract.


When the circle was done Nasanru stood and placed his hand over the circle and the red light grew brighter as he started to chant. The words he spoke were not meant for mortal mouths and had he still been mortal every syllable would have been a fight, but he was not. Around the camp others might notice they felt hot or they felt cold, that winds simply started and stopped, voices seemed to whisper in some’s heads and others could feel the veil between the worlds thin a little. Thought all this Nasanru chanted in the infernal langue calling forth the demon lord, master of the burning pits that some mortals might call hell. As Nasanru neared the end of his spell winds kicked up around him and then concentrated almost tornado like inside the circle. Then in the middle of the air a tear opened pouring out the infernal crimson light. The tear soon split apart opening more and more until it stood taller than even Nasanru himself. From the rift, the portal came a low grumbling then a loud chittering as if millions of spiders were marching through a cavern.


The portal soon stretched wide as something started to emerge. First came a chitin covered leg as thick as a man’s torso which tapered toe a thick but sharp point, then came another as something pulled itself though. A massive form that was similar to human soon came through, but none would ever mistake it for ever having been human. Soon the demon lord was fully though stand 25 feet tall on 8 spider like legs, with a massive bloated body that wept fire from tiny sores, with what looked like blacked chitin covered skeletal wings on it’s back and with ahead that non could mistake as human with an exposed mouth full of sharp teeth that shined with the crimson light and four eyes upon its almost come like head, with two large horns instead of hair. This was a lord of demons, it’s very presences seemed to burn and taint the air as it’s four eyes darted about before all settling on the lich who it towered over.


I have prepared the report already master” it said its voice both deep and shrill sounding like a chorus of voices instead of one all of which spoke slightly out of time with each other, though all put emphasis on the word master speaking both with hatred and respect to the one who had bound it.
 
Elise storms her way out of the workshop after having her hair roughed up by Halk. Her tolerance for such shenanigans wasn't very high at the moment due to her recent short comings after stepping down from the caravan. This mud over her body wasn't much of a help to her mood either. As Elise storms back to her caravan ideas flow through her head and swirl as a vortex of destruction and chaos. She wasn't one to think evil thoughts but with recent times and the sights of murder and horrors of war, her mind begins to lose itself in the horror's that she had been sheltered from by her family.


Elise stands on the tips of her toes as she climbs into the caravan from its tray. She needed to get changed out of these horrid clothes and get a bath of sorts. Her list of things to do is far greater than what she's in the mood to do. She allows herself to lose the stern demeanour and be more honest to herself about what she's feeling. Her hands grip her hair and tug hard in frustration.


With many internal screams, she begins to argue with herself, again.. In silence. 'You're an idiot, stupid, stupid, stupid! They'll find you out and then who'll guard you on your journeys? That skeletal freak? You saw what he did to your brother's soul. Do you want to risk him making you into one of those... things?" Elise continues to struggle with her internal conflicts. Both of these defenders she could choose from are both dangerous and have an even chance of murdering her in her sleep. Elise starts to undress herself so that she can wash the mud stained clothes.


Her hands make their way down her now naked body, her clothes piled up on the tray of the caravan. Though she still has mud covering her hands it's more than pleasing to have a free and aired out body. She takes a large, rectangular piece of cloth and makes her way down from the caravan again. She suspects there to be some place where the soldiers bathe but lacks the knowledge of where that would be.


She skulks around in the last rays of the setting sun when a powerful gust of wind catches her rectangular cloth piece and blows it away from her. The wind stops as abruptly as it had started. The cloth however, continues to float on the power of the wind until it lands softly on the ground with a naked girl chasing after it. She bends over to pick up the towel when she hears a voice whisper to her, as if someone where right next to her, "You lost, my naked lady?" Elise freezes up, her rear in the air and her arms reaching out for her towel. The voice speaks again, this time louder as more of a speech than a whisper, "You should get clothes on, you'll catch a cold otherwise. Or perhaps you'd rather share a bed? Aye?" Elise turns around with great speed to slap the mysterious voice who was so foul towards her. However, she strikes someone she hadn't suspected at all.


Her hand strikes the cheek of Sibel the apothecary. Sibel is a frail woman but she doesn't seem to take any real damage from the open handed strike. Sibel gives off a small laugh and proceeds to rub her quickly reddening cheek. Elise takes a step back in confusion as she processes who it was that had whispered so unnervingly into her ear. Sibel stands there in nothing more than a towel as well. Only her towel seems to be coloured pink and is obviously more expensive. Sibel makes her way down to the stream, signalling for Elise to follow.


Elise grabs her towel and darts in behind her. As Sibel walks, Elise realises that her mouth isn't covered by the mouth piece. Elise speaks up about this change in appearance, "Your face.. I can see all of it. Is that normal for you?" Sibel begins to laugh as she walks, constantly correcting her towel's positioning to make sure it doesn't fall below her nipple line. "Yes, it is when I'm not busy in the tent. It's a sign of respect and a tradition for my family. Did that answer your question?" Elise nods her head slowly before stating what was obvious, "Yes, yes it did."
 
The stars twinkled brightly in the night sky, their pitta-pattern glows casting shadows around. The moon was now full, and would be for the next two days. The crickets chirped merrily in the grass and fireflies danced in the non-restricted air. However, their light became dim compared to the sparks that flint and steel made, and the fires that sprouted from them.


Most of this was silent, apart from the occasional grunt and curse. The westerners were outnumbered by 2-3, but they had range, darkness, and position to their advantage. As well as weaponry. Well, that was debatable, magic was hard to combat, but nothing bested the won-ton detruction caused by 'fire swingers,' bundles of kindling, rocks, tree sap, and oil, held together by twine and dangling at the end of a rope. The men waited attentively, and the commander raised his hand, giving the 'go' gesture. One of the men lit the bundle in the fire, stepped forwards, and swung it by the string over his head in a circle. Embers danced around his head, their orange glow shimmering across his armor. He let go at just the right time, and the burning ball of flame sailed into the air. The others quickly followed suit. The commander smiled under his visor. They would win today. And he had a promotion with his name on it.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



One of the guardsmen, the man who had lost his legs from the previous battle, was nodding off. His head rested almost on his chin. Something caugt his eye, and he awoke with a snort. He looked up at a single... Firework? No. Fireball. He fell off of his chair he was so startled. He began shouting, raising the alarm. That was about the time the sky filled with the flares of spitting, hissing orange and crashed in random places. Most just caused mayhem and chaos, but one crashed into the medical tent's roof. As well as the man with no legs. He rolled around on the ground, something he was quite good at now, but not before it charred his still healing leg stumps. He promply blacked out. 'Something else I seem to be doing alot of these days,' his muddled consience thought grimly.


Gerld awoke to shouting. He grabbed his shields where they sat at the foot of his bed roll and launched himself into action. Fire streaked across the sky, scorching a few of the trees, burning the grass. He saw one such flame spark and kindle as it smashed through the roof of the medical tent. "The wounded! Helpp the wounded!" He shouted, immediately attempting to take control of the situation. The light glinted eerily off his shields in the moonlight, as well as the fire that was now becoming a well-fed blaze.


Kelvin awoke much like Gerld, but the first thing he did was determine the direction the fire was coming from. "Halk!" He shouted, running to the workshop, "HALK!" Halk was allready awake, and striding calmly across the camp towards him. "I see it too, Kelvin. Get me some men. Good men. Just a few, fifteen. The rest need to stay here and keep the fires out." Kelvin gestured to the forge. "But what about your f-" His sentance was interupted as a fireball crashed into the shoddy structure, Kelvin ducked, hands over his head as debri showered down upon the two. Halks wards protected him, and suprisingly, the forge appeared to be unafected. "You can't think I don't prepare for these things? Oh ye of little faith." Halk said with a smirk. Kelvin was appauled to realize that a lopsided grin crossed his face as well. "I'll follow you Halk. I've said it before, but you are one smart motherfucker, and whatever you have planned is going to work." Halk nodded. "I hope it does." The light of the fire danced across his charmed jacket, and he tilted his head towards the sky. Kelvin went off to do as Halk told him, but not without glancing back to see Halk... Drawing light from the moon?


Halks hands were as waist height, palms up, fingers curled in different patterns. He was focusing. The moonlight shone on his coat, and his popped collar glowed, as well as a trail down the back of his neck. he reached up to the sky, the runes on his coat shining silver, seemingly filling themselves from the bottom up. He twisted on his heel and forced the energy from his coat out through his hand, forming a thin, blinding white beam from his palm towards the sky. A thin coat of dust seemed to form in the air and shimmer down, twinkling over everything. Halk ran over to where Gerld now was, still trying to beat back the fire from the medical tent and the surrounding area. "Nothing else will catch on fire," Halk shouted over the blaze, "Moondust!". Gerld gave him a thankful glance and continued to try to beat back the flames, but magical fires were put out much easier than regular ones.
 
Nasanru turned as fire started to rain down calling forth a ward to stop any of these flames from hitting his form, the demon lord however didn't need any protection compared to the hellfire within its body the mightiest flames of the world were nothing and few mortal weapons could harm it so things meant to burn where nothing.


" It seems you have enemies my master." The demon lord chuckled as if expecting something that it knew was coming.


" So it does and they came to us how nice " Nasanru said mirroring the demons seeming eagerness.


" Your orders my master?" it asked with what could barely be called a smile but glee in its voices it knew what was coming.


" That’s simple " Nasanru said " Search and destroy, crush any and all who stand in your way do not run or hide strike at them from their front. Crush any obstacle in your way and reduce them to dust. summon your vampire hounds, and pit fiends, bring forth every dark horror of the abyss let no one leave now go SEARCH AND DESTORY!" Nasanru said his voice echoing and the minds of all those about


The demon chuckled " Yes my master" and he turned starting to walk towards the way the fire came from even as demons gathered about him seemingly emerging from the shadows the mortals had poked a hornets' nest and how they would get stung by the demon lord and his horrors.


Nasanru instead of going to join the demon lord instead moved towards the camp, there was someone he needed to check on .
 
Roxii's emotionless face twitched at the enchanters words. Whatever you wish. Allowing her silent demeanor to once again take over, she continued walking the opposite way Halk had gone, making a wide circle to both attempt to enjoy the remnants of her late stroll and to head back towards the camp. Luckily, the oncoming night calmed her, so it was simple for her overwhelming emotions to cease. It was confusing to the assassin: why was she having so much trouble with feelings and emotions now? Normally, she could brush off any kind of frustration, anger, disappointment—anything with a simple shrug of her shoulders. But now, it took her to actually try to rid herself of petty emotions. She wasn't supposed to feel. Feeling is what puts you in danger. Feeling is what hurts you. Feeling is what gets you killed. That's why she's tried so hard to make herself into such a reticent character; emotions were useless.


The Shadow was just beginning to arrive to the camp when she was jogged out of her thoughts by orange streaks soaring across the sky, plummeting into her destination. The camp was being attacked. Mother of hell, she thought to herself, increasing her stride into a jog as she tried to find the enchanter and the nymph and whoever else she could find. She may be unsatisfied, but she wasn't immoral.
 
Gregory's eye lids part open very slowly as he is still in a drowsy state. To him, an orangey red haze fills the world and an all to familiar scent of burning timber fills his nostrils. It takes Gregory a moment to process what's going on around him before his ears stop filtering out the screams of panic and start listening to the actual words being said. 'Fire! They're attacking! Help, it burns! Ohh gods why me?! AGH!' Gregory's hands rub at his ears in disbelief because he can't seem to understand what they're rambling on about. He thinks to himself, "Being attacked? What are we being attacked by?"


Gregory shakes his head side to side as he hears a blood curdling scream come from the apothecary's tent with him. One of the wounded soldiers lay on the floor, tossing and turning, with something bright red in his eye. Gregory becomes consumed by panic and attempts to pull his way free from the cot. The bindings on his wrists and ankles however prevent such a thing from happening. Under his breath he curses Sibel and her safety measures as the fires slowly creep towards his cot and up the walls of the tent.


Gregory goes to give up on his life, assuming his vision of Heid'Zuu had been shown to him because her fires of redemption were coming to this goddess forsaken camp of magic wielding soldiers. The fires dance their way of over cots, under desks and through the cracks of sheets and crates. This was the worst form of death but in the name of Heid'Zuu he believes it was all worth it. Gregory's head tilts up to look at the door, still hoping some last minute rescue will happen.


As he does, a man dressed in western armour comes running in with an axe in his left hand and a buckler in his right. This man performs a war cry and rushes over to the wounded soldier who was still dressed in western soldier uniform. The injured western soldier had unfortunately passed away already and was adorned in many burn marks from the crackling fires. The axe wielding infantry man hangs his head at his fallen comrade and swings him over his shoulder.


Through the orange tinted smoke, the axe wielder seems to have pointed ears and a pale blue complexion. Gregory calls out to him in hopes of salvation, "Wait! Brother, help me!" to which the the pale blue, axe wielder replies in confusion, "If I could, I would. May Heid'Zuu's gaze be vigilant."


As abruptly as the man had entered, he leaves. His dead comrade slung over his shoulder and his boots clanking loudly over the crackling and hissing fire. Gregory goes to move his hand in the direction of the vanished man, still calling "Wait! Don't leave me to die!" But it seems all far too late.


The fires slither up the wooden beams of the cot like serpents of death, their black smoke tongues whipping back and forth from their orange mouths. This is what true horror feels like. The knowledge there is no escape from this suffering and pain of a slow and torturous end. Gregory looks up to the ceiling of the tent as the warmth around him grows more and more. It becomes too much for him to bare as the flames consume his sheets and pillow. The heat of the naked flame caressing his tender skin. His cheeks begin to blister from the heat, as do his thighs, biceps and forearms.


Gregory screams out in pain, trying with everything he has to escape. He twists and turns, writhes in anguish to try so desperately for any escape at all but it's still all for naught. The fires continue to bite down on his already blistered and wounded flesh. More of his body becomes covered in blisters from the red and orange serpents. He opens his mouth wider with screams as the dark black venom seeps down into his lungs, silencing his peril from the outside world.


Many of his blisters begin to burst and leave open wounds all across his back. His skin becoming charred a blackish ash as these hateful beasts continue their ever graceful dance across his entire body. He feels his muscles tighten and his eyes begin to melt in their own sockets. He musters all his strength and finally makes his way off what remains of the cot. He staggers with false hope in his heart to where he'd last seen the escape. A huge smile on his face as if he thinks there's hope for him yet. His legs give out from their wounds and he falls face first to the ground. In his final moment of agonising life, he reaches out a hand to the door and curses in a hoarse voice, "Heid'Zuu damn you, demons"


~


Sibel and Elise continue to make their way down towards the stream. Elise remains completely clueless of where they were headed but trusts Sibel with a large portion of her heart. Sibel on the other hand knows exactly where they're heading. The two walk down a small slope where they reach the edge of the water. If it weren't for the moon's beams of reflected sun, the two would be blind and most likely already in the water.


Sibel sets down her towel on the bank and wastes no time at all to dive in. The muscles of her buttocks tighten as she dives into the crystal clear water. The bottom would be clear to see if it wasn't night time. Sibel dives down to the bottom of the stream to sit on the bed for a few seconds. Sibel has always been a huge fan of water, she took to it as a child and ever since has been a pain to get out of it. Her cheeks bloat and a few bubbles rise to the surface as she lets out a small breath of air to keep her from drowning.


Elise is quite hesitant however. She hasn't really spent much time around water and because of this she doesn't really know how to swim properly. She does understand how to bathe though and slowly lowers her towel down next to Sibel's. Elise takes small steps to the water's edge and dips the tips of her toes in. The water feels cold but it beats being muddy and smelling awful. Elise's feet slide a little bit as she enters the stream, snagging on a flat rock and saving her from cutting them open on some jagged edge. She lowers herself into the water and begins to splash it up over face and hair to try and get this mud out as fast as possible.


Sibel shoots up from the bottom of the stream and makes a small gasp for air. She wasn't drowning or anything like that but she did love her oxygen equally as much as her water if not a little more. Her bright eyes open and focus on Elise's silhouette. The orange and gold backdrop behind Elise's head made it easy to focus on her. Sibel smiles softly before realising that there was bright light coming from the direction of the camp. Sibel's smile fades quickly and her heart begins to race.


"This is bad, this is bad.. This is really bad!" says Sibel in her hysteria. Her hands continue to move to keep her afloat but her eyes dart down towards the water.


"What's bad?" asks Elise, she wasn't paying much attention to what was behind her until Sibel's actions.


"Nothing! Just stay here with me, okay?" Sibel insists. She moves closer to Elise and goes to embrace her. She holds Elise tightly against her bosom to make sure the little girl remains safe from the distant danger. "Umm, okay?" Elise replies. She still hasn't seen the large flames behind her and that's exactly how Sibel wants it.


Sibel continues to embrace Elise for a lengthy amount of time before Elise states the obvious, "You know I have to get cleaned, right?" Sibel shakes her head to snap her out of her panicked embrace with the little one when she realises that Elise had quite a valid argument. "I'm so sorry, clean.. Clean." Elise smiles politely before washing the mud off her face and out of her long, red hair. Sibel dives back down to the bottom of the stream to clear her head as Elise cleans her face.


Normally, Elise would look behind her to see what the big deal was but for some reason, she thinks that Sibel's reactions were good enough to gauge the level of horror and threat. Elise tugs on her hair to pull out dried mud and the occasional leaf.
 
Nasanru left the attackers to his demons or rather his demon lord and this demons, there was a minor difference but for long as the army didn't attack any of them they would be just fine. Now the reason he didn't go join in the slaughter was not because he wanted to help the wounded escape but because a person of his interest didn't exactly fight as far as he knew and well she might get hurt.


Nasanru moved to the caravan and extinguished the fires with a bit of ice and found that the little girl was not here, well at least she was safe somewhere most likely he could find her latter. In the time between him sickign the demons on the mortals and reaching the caravan something very interesting had happened and he felt it. While death was common and happened a lot he did notice how different people felt different when they died and some one very special had just died. The little would be paladin was dead and the girl hadn't even gotten to kill him herself that was a true travesty something Nasanru just couldn't let stand.


Nasanru went over to the tent and found it was on fire, just as he expected so at least he knew how the boy had died. Nasanru called forth a ring of ice and quenched the flames. It was almost funny that one that no doubt believed in cleansing the unholy with fire would be burned himself, though it was more funny when their own code turned against them. Once the flames where gone Nasanru looked about until her found the correct corpse, which for most would be hard as one charred body looked the same as the next. Once the correct body was picked out Nasanru lifted it up and inspected it.


" I wonder will you get to rest, well if you don't you will have to have a lot of work done I wonder if our little enchanter will be willing to help you out. He did like you I think , we will see." He said " Well for now I'll let you lay down get some rest after all you will have a big day soon" He finished then he dropped the body " But first I must find our dear little merchant I wonder where she has gone off to?" He mused then wandered off he would find her in time.
 
Halk jerked his head at Kelvin and the ten men he had gathered. A few western soldiers had rushed into the camp, but left as soon as they came. The litch had summoned multiple demons, and they had picked off one or two of the fleeing soldiers. Halk held up his hand to the big arachnid looking one. "Stay back here and help put out the fires, defend the camp. This is our fight, not yours!" Halk turned on his heel and made his way through the semi-burning forest, Kelvin beside him, company in tow. The litch was a friend and an ally, but the east had no right to ask him to fight along side them. Or his demons. Demons always tried to steal your soul, and Halk was quite fond of his. Halk was a proud man, and his pride was rooted in the firmness of his self-made life.


One of the men waved his sword over his head, the charmed icy blade flashing in the firelight. Halk raised his eyebrows and the man pointed to the source of the fire. It was the only bright thing aside from the moon here. The westerners that had fled from the camp were just getting back here. Halk gave Kelvin the go ahead signal with a two-fingered wave and the men began to holler threats and war cries. The ranged fire weapons were of no use at such close range. Halk only had ten men with him, up against fourty that was not odds he liked. But they'd be fine. They always were. And Halk had a plan.


As the westerners charged at the small party of mages, Halk stood his ground. "Fall back Kelvin." Kelvin relayed the order and stepped back. Halk didn't move. "Sir!" Kelvin shouted. Halk tilted his head and smiled. "Kelvin, have you learned nothing from me?" Kelvin hesitated, then nodded, and retreated further into the woods. The western soldiers were almost upon Halk now. One swung his warhammer at halk, but halk caught the head, bracing his legs, his feet grinding backwards in the turf. He smiled devilishly and jumped up on top of the man, using his burly shoulders as a springboard to get up into the branches of a nearby tree. The men shouted and shook their weapons, and Halk began to jump through the trees to get closer to their camp.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The raid was going remarkably well. Heavy casualties were reported, on the other side of course. The commander was rubbing his chin when the man with the enchanted coat showed up, along with ten men. Ten men? The commander almost laughed. That was not going to be enough to drive back his fourty. When the mages fell back, the enchanter had stayed though. He was like a monkey almost, swinging through the trees. "Quit being a coward and face your demise like a man!" The commander jeered. But something was off. The enchanter was jumping from tree to tree, smiling. "Knock him out of those trees, he's the one responsible for the defeat at the gorge!" One of the men bellowed. The commander bashed his waraxe and sheild together in confirmation of the order, and they followed the enchanter back to their camp. The enchanter was just standing in the middle of the camp, smiling. The commander stepped forwards. "You are a clever one. I am Rogulf, and I am going to kill you," he said. This was accompanied by jeers and yells from his companions. The enchanter shook his head. "How bout nah." He said. How could the Magic-kin smile and defy the ones who would inevetably seal his doom? The commander spun his battleaxe and swung it at the enchanter overhand and downwards. The enchanter sidestepped. "You need to do better than that to kill me. And you should know blades don't work on my coat. Stupid humans need to learn faster." At this, the other men began encircling the enchanter, growling menacingly. The enchanter continued to smile.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



"For the east!" Halk shouted, raising his hands to the sky and bringing them down as if pulling something down. He was indeed. An invisible net he had woven up in the trees out of magic. it shimmered lightly as it came down, passing over Halk, but trapping everyone else. "For the east!" The ten men hiding in the shadows replied, standing around the trapped men. Cheers went up and Halk strode through the entangeld westerners to the commander. "I'm Halk. Nice try Rogulf." He snapped his fingers and spun on his heels. Once again he had won with wit and magic. Kelvin smacked him on the back. "Nice work sir." Halk nodded. One of the eastern men named Atticus was doing a little dance. "Now the real fun starts, we take their armor, hold them captive, take them to-" Kelvin's face hardened and he swept his hand. The fires that the weterners used to ignite the fire swingers roared and blazed. Halk tilted his head questioningly, then his expression turned solemn as well. Atticus' eyes widened. "You can't be serious." Halk shrugged. "We lost alot of men to the fire. Alot of our wounded. Blood for blood Atticus, you know the drill." Atticus, who was the fire mage of the group, sighed, but nodded once Kelvin put a hand on his shoulder. "Remember. They started this." Atticus nodded and stood behind the fires. Everyone else did too. With a powerful thrust from both hands, he sent the flames dancing over the western men, roasting them in their armor. When the fires died down, nothing was left but charred remains. Halk was no longer smiling with the cockiness he had with the commander. He was reminded that this was war. True war. He jerked his head at the men. "Come on," He said, "Gerlds put all the fires out. It's time to count our dead as well." With that, he trudged trough the woods back in the direction of the camp.
 
Roxas eyes snapped wide open, in her out of it zone, she had kind of drifted off and had barely listened to Halk and the child speak, she was just thinking about the war and then Halk's force and how it could use more plants. Her body moved by itself as she walked around the forge, calm and collected, although an unease began to stir in her belly as she thought about the gorge. There was something that felt very, very wrong about the way things had just settled down upon leaving the gorge. Sure they had defeated the wests men, but in all Roxas's twenty four years, she had learned two things: one, humans regardless of how kind they may claim to be and try to be, hated losing and would do anything at all costs to get revenge on those who defeated them. Two: humans had irrational fears of all things magical. Roxas rolled her shoulders and yawned once, she wasn't actually tired but yawning made her lungs and expand and the more air she got the better she felt.


Upon seeing the fireballs soar through the camp she gasped, body getting warmer as adrenaline pumped through her veins. She knew for a fact that she wouldn't be help in a physical fight, but she needed to help. Roxas watched Halk run out, this was obviously a raid and would seriously hurt the camp, Roxas did the only thing she could think of. Her shapely legs carried her from the forge and had her bursting through nature, using the trees and shrubs to bring her closer and closer to the south. She only hoped that her plan would work. Sweat dribbled down her forehead and back, and she felt her wound hurt, it may have heard but the scar and phantom pain would plague her for longer.


Roxas's eyes opened as she made sure she was safe and out of harms way, she took a deep breathe when she realized she was in the forests of the south, nymphs incredible ability to jump from forest to forest through nature was a gift she would thank the gods for. Roxas began to jump through trees and brushes, as she made her way to the den of a dragon. A dragon whose name was Creature of the sky, otherwise known as sky. This was going to be a long shot but she had a favor to pull. The beast owed her, after she pulled arrows out of his thick hide and healed the wounds, after humans had attacked him. She stopped in front of the den and called "Creature of the Sky, tis I, Roxanna, Nymph of the south, I call upon the favor you owe to me. The humans are attacking the east and all magic kind, and I need your help." She shouted into the den. The cavern shook, and Roxas swallowed nervously and stepped back. A low roar burst through and all she heard was "Humans have made their last mistake." A giant head came from the cavern, followed by a body that was easily larger than a hundred men, the scales were black as night, and eyes the color of blood stared back at the little forest nymph. "Consider this a gift little one." The voice spoke in her head, and a long forked tongue touched her head for one moment. Her heart pounded in her chest but she knew, she was going to be okay. "Come, show me this place." Roxas nodded and climbed up the side of Sky's side and rested between the horns on his neck. Wings beat like thunder as sky lifted into the sky. She guided him to the camp, and with a roar, fire spilled through the air, and a voice echoed through heads "Humans die." Roxas heart beat as Sky dropped out of the sky, plummeting at high speeds toward the humans, he scooped up two men and screams of agony sounded as his talons sank into the flesh of the wests men.


Dragons had impeccable smell and could tell the difference between human and magic folk. Sky threw one of the human into the air and grabbed him by the mid section, biting deep before swallowing. He threw the other human across the land and circled again, making sure to drop Roxas off his neck and into the camp, as he picked up another human. Roxas raced around nervously, and uelled "Halk!"
 

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