Fantasy The Great Games of Nye

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Ava Marco
interaction: Jet rozukitsune ZackStop Lost Echo​

ok ziplining down into the streets was awesome Ava knew it best to contain her excitement since screaming "WOOOOOAH" wouldn't actually be all too helpful and then landing with a small thud thanks to her weight. "well damn that was cool wish we could do it again maybe next time when we aren't doing something important you know?" ava commented with a cheerful hum. tho with the people grounding around them and causing problems, Ava was able to well enjoy just intimidating people out of the way frankly she looked like a monster and finally that was useful especially with all the protestors. "right.. so mint cream stop vomiting right?" she'd ask putting it under her lip as instructed looking at the other to see where to go from here.. since eeeh she wasn't sure.

 

[Jet]

​

Mischa was horrified when Bracken said he understood her. It was embarrassing and made her face turn a little red, and now she felt sorry for him. He wasn't an unhinged axe murderer... well probably not anyway, but a hermit who'd spent his life away from people.

It was more sad than anything.

"Gods I'm dumb," she mumbled to him. "I'm so sorry... thought common was your second tongue." Mischa apologetically smiled and clapped him on the shoulder, hoping he wouldn't hold it against her. She didn't care if someone was awkward but thinking they were dangerous, or couldn't speak her language — well that was poor form indeed. "We never shut up so you'll have plenty of time to practice, maybe it'll be a good change of pace for ya?"

"Promise I'll be nicer to you than...

She almost said "Ilana" but stopped at the last second, given how the girl was sitting in utter silence.

"Nope, not gonna say it." She took a long meditative breath. "I'm calm yeah, cool as a cucumber. All that good stuff."

"Promise I'm alright," she said to Rat. "Well maybe not completely, but close enough ya know?" Mischa smiled and sat on the narrow railing, hair swaying over the side. Her long legs kicked back and forth as she listened to the country boy, chuckling at his mention of king's cup. The game was lethal. The best way to get hammered unless you chugged a bottle of hard liquor. "Hey I could teach you!"

"But if not?"

"Hmmm?" Her balance shifted and she tilted back to the open sky, but her familiar floated by and pushed her back in place. "We could do the card guessing game? I write a name on a card, stick it to your forehead and you gotta ask questions and guess who it is, and you do the same for me."

"You drink every time you screw up a guess, and gotta drink your whole cup after five guesses."

"You can teach me all them sayins while we're playing yeah?" Her smile widened by a hair. "Won't need a translator then."

Miacha took a moment to soak in the sunlight. The pleasant breeze and the views of the desert. The dunes rolling like waves across a storming ocean. The light shimmering from their pale peaks. "You know, they seem pretty cool, I think we can let em in." She looked from the wasteland and locked eyes with Rat. "Might need to initiate em though?"

"Test their metal a bit." Mischa smiled like a mischievous older sister, thinking about how she'd test Leon and maybe Bracken. It would be a classic drinking game but with a little twist, where the drinks were much stronger than normal. The group would get wasted like the people from her homeland, singing and dancing like a bunch of utter morons. Then they'd awake with a hangover, crush breakfast and complain about their headaches. It was a right of passage for any group of friends, teams of workers or group of sailors.

And there was a good chance they'd be killed on their mission, so why not have one last bender?

Emphoa Fred Colon ZackStop Goliath

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Yua Smith
ユア・スミス
Yua carefully filed the information away as it was provided to her. Be wary of a centurion named Darius if she were to ever meet him...better to have an ongoing list of names than to simply handwave and forget them. A muted laugh escaped her however as Felix was addressed as a 'young' man, the butler was far from young...though, perhaps that spoke more of Isaacs age, then? How old was he then, she had to wonder. "I see. Miss Smith? Would it be acceptable to you if I helped the sir with collecting firewood? Provided, of course, you not have need of me in that time otherwise." "Oh! Yes, of course, that's understandable. If you're not helping me, it's fine if you want to help with that, Felix. And as for your housemate, mister Isaac I'll...be positive to take what he has with a grain of salt, then."

All gazes landed on the young man as he sprinted into the house, Felix settling the luggage he'd moved flat against the wall as he turned to face the new face with hands behind his back once again. Atsali? Who, or what, were they? Though Yua's face had at least a hundred questions, her voice carried not a one into the air. Yua found her legs carrying her after Isaac before her mind had a chance to voice a word of warning or hesitance as if being near Felix emboldened the body enough to ignore the usually cautious mind. "Oh uhm...y-yes! Yes, we'll be coming with you. Maybe there's something we can do to help? I know the chances may be slim, but anything to be of service...that's why I'm here, right?" Yua's tone had hesitancy laden on it in a heavy dosage...was she trying to convince them, or herself, that she was here to help? Looking at their eyes though...an unusual cultural norm, perhaps...but in rooms of cut throat politicians or corporate suits, looking anywhere but the face was asking to be taken advantage of in more ways than one. She could wear that mask, she was good at that mask. Felix was much more even-keeled in tone and presence, however. "We should have no issue focusing on their eyes, sir. If you would be so kind, could you fill in the gaps for us? Who are the Atsali? What should we expect?"

​

Jet

 

[EldridSmith]

Baryn was glad he didn't have to knock the drunk out or slam him overboard, he didn't like killing but self defense was something he had learned from many years of being hunt down by Zuanshi. It seemed that the poison that dulled the man's mind was also the cure to his antics. Baryn having been drunk for a week was familiar, it helped numb the pain of losing his friends. Still he couldn't escape it forever. Baryn still could tell the man indulged in it constantly, that alone was enough to raise concerns, but regardless they were stuck with him for the mission. The dancer defended his music but otherwise didn't say much.

Tessia didn't seemed to care much what happened in the ruins either, aside them finding whatever they come out for, much to Esther's chagrin. At least they had the go from their leader to plunder as they pleased. Ideally there was some ancient alcohol for the drunk bastard to knock himself out on. Normally he was quite agreeable, but having lost everyone he cared for he was currently jaded and very abrasive, providing music for free, if they liked it great, if they didn't, they could fuck right off. "I don't care about the frozen bastard's frosty nips, if he can't stand it he is free to leave. I've got enough of my own problems as is, I don't need his bitching to add to the list. As for being agreeable I'll worry about that once I'm done grieving, thanks to that bastard I must be in the anger stage." He remarked gratingly before taking a deep breath to calm down some. Now wasn't the time.

Baryn released his breath before repeating a few times, once he was calmed down he turned the group. "I apologize for my outburst, my emotions have been unstable since my friends, no, family, passed. Now... what have you tried on the box so far?" He inquired as he looked at the item, he was admittedly curious about it, perhaps something to do with magic for opening it. Perhaps a locksmith could undo it, but any more thought on the matter was a waste of time until he was told more. She went on to say she had no plans for the mission, and gave over their orders.

The knight stayed out of the fight before their companion offered condolences. "Thank you." He said with a slight smile as they complimented his instrument. Brynwyr was quiet and mostly left him alone however as she read the instructions aloud. The researcher clearly had opinions but didn't say much, and the inquired of the box. He chuckled when she mentioned slamming the box on the drunkard's head. Otherwise she stared at the object, before tossing it back to Tessia. The group for the most part expressed disbelief at their instructions. Baryn didn't have much to add, as he wasn't in the mood to go out of his way for anything, he would do what he needed to for now.
Jet Arcanist Lost Echo Monbon ZackStop

 

[Jet]

​

Johan landed on the street behind the others on his team, scanning the mass of men who pushed against the barricades. The many woman screaming curses at the guards. He could feel their anger radiating like heat from the sun, and he wondered how long it would be until they snapped? How long until they pushed over the barricades and through the big gates of the factory, stampeding anyone who stood in their way? He was thankful they weren't at that stage yet. The last thing he wanted was to fight civilians.

His stomach twisted at the thought as he marched onwards through the crowd, ignoring their insults and hostile screams. "Look how friendly they are!" he said as a man screamed in his face. "We're like celebrities!"

He pushed through the crowd and the pressure of their bodies, warm and writhing, was oppressive like a damp summer day. He struggled to breath when people swarmed him that way, but soon they reached the barricade.

He walked through and reached the massive steel door, twenty feet tall and ten feet wide. The defective offered a cream but he wasn't interested in taking it; he could handle the smell of death. "Yeah more or less, keeps your breakfast where it's supposed to be." He smirked and looked over at Ren. "And it means there's been a homicide, a bad one at that."

"Look at you!" The detective smiled as he pushed the door open. "A regular Sherlock Holmes!"

Johan chuckled in response. "That makes you Watson."

"I'll take it," the detective said. "We've got one hell of a case here, a damn who-done-it and the whole island's breathin down my neck."

He led them inside and the stench of death hit like a wave. The cream would make it better but still, it was like putting lipstick on a pig. The factory floor was dotted with bodies strewn about in every direction, dried pools of blood reflecting the shop lights high above. Their pale faces were twisted into expressions of horror and misery, and there were so many of them. They covered every area from the storage rowa with shelves stretching to the ceiling, to the distillation tanks where chemicals settled over time. There were dozens by the bottling area and some leaned over their stations, like they were still working in death.

"Fuck." Johan was used to death, but massacres were another story. He'd only seen the arena attack and now this. His mouth pursed as the stench hit him like a steam train, but his breakfast stayed in place. "No signs of a fight... like they rolled over and died."

He stopped walking and looked over at Narzas, wondering what she thought about the massacre. There was a chance she'd crack the case with her experience. "You ever see anything like this?"

"Like the workers were sleeping when their throats were slit?" He looked over at the detective. "How many are dead?"

"Couple hundred." The detective kneeled beside a corpse. "Bout a hundred fifty on the plant floor, others in the offices." He pointed at the opposite end of the factory, where a staircase led to a floor of offices and conference rooms.

"Nye can't catch a break." Johan looked around at the bodies of dead workers, feeling a pang of sympathy for the people outside. He also worried for Anya and Ren — as if the kids needed to see any more death.

At least this would be quick. In and out with the records in their hands, unconcerned with the murders as a whole. It would only take them ten minutes. "I'll be honest," he said to the detective. "We're mainly here for the records, but we'll let you know if we find anything important."

"Copy that," the detective said.

rozukitsune Huntertabbysandshark3 Lost Echo @

 

[ZackStop]

​

Letting the last few drips hit their tongue, Spivey unfortunately did not go deaf, having to listen to this grown man prattle on. As the dial to his aggressive words turned up a notch, it began to encroach on 'fighting words' territory with possibly one too many 'bastards' thrown in. It gave Spivey a moment to let that all sink in as the urge to punch Baryn square in the teeth worsened. He clearly had a lot to say, and nothing was going to convince him to shut it. Needless to say, a fist would be perfect gag for this guy.

The flask dropped to the deck at their feet, a few droplets of vodka sprang out from the fall. The drunk had let it go before slowly pulling the mask back down over their mouth, and tucking it back under the chin. A deep, synthetic exhales escaped through the vents. Drunk but not stupid, Spivey wasn't going to have an all out brawl while hovering several hundred feet in the air. Then again, they had just about enough of this guy. He really should have left it alone.

"Bitching huh? And your bitching is somehow more tolerable? Tell me how you really feel..." That last part was mumbled but everything else was clear. "You wanna keep talking like that then we can settle this as soon as we touch down." Spivey pointed at the floor a few times to tag onto the end of that sentence, cocking their head to the side almost nonchalantly. "Maybe I can bash that box against your head and see what breaks first!" Clearly this was a spin on Esther's remark. Certainly someone hard headed enough would do the trick. "And let me tell ya, I don't give a shit about your problems, I don't give a rat's ass about whatever dickheads you lost. They died, so what? It's over. It's not my job to give sympathy, my job is to complete this mission and get paid. I don't gotta share my trauma with all you to do it!"

Snapping back felt appropriate, but with all that tagged on at the end, Spivey made it well known to the group what kind of horrible person they were. Swearing no allegiances, unfeeling and uncaring to others, only concerned with their monetary gain. In essence, that sums them right up.

The drunk took a few steps back, soon to take their leave from the group. "I'll save you all the headache." Speaking with a more slurred voice than before. "Sure it's no surprise that I'm bad at socializing, but my skills are elsewhere. You'll see... Thanks for the booooze." They decided to return below deck was of their own volition. The sob stories and talks of ancient civilization was getting sickeningly old quick. If there wasn't mention of hidden treasure then they weren't interested. Anything said to them would probably just be ignored. Spivey didn't even take note that there was a newcomer despite her bright red locks. Euclaire was the type of woman this one track minded merc would flock to, but luckily for her, they didn't even notice she was there.

Jet Lost Echo Arcanist EldridSmith Monbon

 

[Lost Echo]

There Johan went, being unhelpful. Obviously, someone died--she wanted to know how so she wouldn’t have to start thinking while her mind blanked at the dead body. Or worse, bodies. She could feel the memory of all those bodies on the stands creeping up over her, somehow growing worse as time passed when WHAM. The stench hit her like a wall the moment the door was open, mixing with the mint in a sickening blend. It was palpable. As if she was breathing in death instead of air. She didn’t want to go forward. She wanted to turn around and get lost in the crowd around her. Disappear.

Her wings curled in around her as if she could hide from the smell. From the knowledge that it likely meant every one of these people’s family or friends was dead. And those in the front knew it. There was no way the barricade was enough to block this scent. She knew it.

She had to remind herself why she was here. That this was the only in she could find to Nye. And if she did this, then she could get Hannah out. It wasn’t like they were asking her to kill anyone. These people were already dead. They’d been dead much longer than those in the arena. She had to think of them as just spare parts now. Not people. She needed to focus on the people who were alive.

Holding her breath, she followed the Suit in, ignoring his joking with Johan. Even prepared, she couldn’t help but gasp at the sight. It was everyone. She’d known everyone still in there had to be dead, but she hadn’t realized--hadn’t thought everyone died. She’d assumed--hoped--that some had left, maybe detained by Nye for questioning, but that some had lived. Looking at the mass of peop--bodies in front of her, she couldn’t imagine anyone else missing. There weren’t any empty spaces as if a piece had been pulled from a puzzle. There were bodies everywhere.

Their uniforms made it easier to pull away from the people they used to be. No jewelry or even much color …beyond the darkened brown of blood… made any of them individuals. Wrapping her wings around her, she listened to the detective list off the numbers with her pulse pounding in her ears. “All dead.” She whispered, looking down at her hands in her cocoon. It wasn’t safe either. The death invaded it, impossible to ignore. “As if at once.”

It wasn’t like with the poison. This was with blades and blood. It was faster. Tefra had struggled against death before it came for him. These seemed to have died without ever having a warning. Perhaps that was for the best. Surely if there wasn’t time to fight, there wasn’t time to fear. “Unless they couldn’t move.” Though how, what could freeze everyone in place? Was there ice around the bodies? She didn’t dare look. The suit would have said. But if there was something that could just steal your familiar, maybe there was something that made you trapped in your body. No. She forced that thought away. It was more likely assassins like Narzas had come and killed everyone at once. A light illusion, making them unseen.

 

[Jet]

Isaac mulled over the question as they walked down the street. He didn't know much beyond what filtered through he wasteland, but he'd share what little information he knew. "They're a loose collection of tribes in the desert."

"Last I heard they have almost thirty member tribes, each has a chieftain who reports to the high priest." There was a hint of sadness in his old weary eyes. "Most of them are warlike, greedy — expansionists who want to reforge the empire."

"I've had..." He paused for a long moment. "Some of my students joined them years ago, said they wanted to avenge the ones they lost."

"What a fool's errand." He laughed but there was no happiness in the sound, only bitterness and scorn. "They'll only kill themselves in the process. I tried to explain but there was nothing more I could do."

The feeling of failure rose in his chest as he reminisced of the old days. How his best student ran to the war bands in the desert. The wound was fresh even after twenty years. "They're killers calling themselves warriors, as if it takes strength to burn what others built."

"But tell me, Felix." He looked back at the young man. "I heard there was an incident in Nye. I meant to ask you what happened there?"

ManofManyRoles

 

[EldridSmith]

Ivan could feel the glowering gaze from the Valencian noble and that everyone else ignored him save Zak and Ace. It seems that he would face discrimination from the fact he was from the Byzantine empire, despite others not knowing his views and stances. Still Christ was persecuted for speaking the truth, he could endure being persecuted for his beliefs and origin. Still it was somewhat disheartening. At least the kid wasn't so prejudiced, even if he was a little rascal, Ivan ended up chuckling as he listened to the boy.

"The holy grail you say? Lofty aspirations young lad." He remarked with a grin. "I heard it was kept deep within the basement of the grand cathedral in Byzantine. Perhaps you can take down all the corrupt rotting old priests there and become a hero." Ivan teased before bursting out laughing with a hearty grin. Well not like he could make these jokes in Byzantine without consequences. "Forgive me, I was pulling your leg, I doubt such an item would still be around, and even if it was who knows where it would be." He says before he watches Zak shadow boxing. "You like to fight hm? I I could teach you swordsmanship if not for how cramped it is in here... though if you can get Mavior's permission I could make a small earth puppet to teach you... but not spar, it is still far to small in here." He remarked scratching his chin. He chuckled about boring travel. "You think this is bad, imagine a large procession of priests pointlessly debating what is and isn't heresy on a long journey... it would bore you to death, but I had to pay attention as much was considered heresy that shouldn't be." He remarked with a scowl as he thought about things back home, but alas it was bordering politics once more. At this point he returned to paying attention to the conversation.

Ivan chuckled again at the remark of taking out a building. "You should see when I merge with my familiar, I fear I would flatten a few blocks at least." He said with a hearty laugh as he summoned a his familiar but kept it small as a small mammoth now stood next to him.... well small for a mammoth was still waist high for Ivan. However it fit. "This is Asja, my familiar a mammoth, and this is the small version of him, he's twice my height normally." He said with a chuckle. Though he wasn't sure who the boy was referring to when he said that someone would make a good couple with Ace, but he didn't pay it much mind, as he stopped moving considering Ace didn't seem to like his offer to help. It seemed it had a negative effect instead of a positive one. "I'm sure you'll be fine, but if you need a hand I'll lend one." He said as she took the bag of seeds from him. "Well I'm glad to hear you've got a good brother looking out for you." He said with a radiant smile before returning to his seat seeing she was now safely in the kitchen. It seems it was time to be ignored by everyone again, maybe save the boy. Asja sensing this laid atop Ivan's lap snuggling up to him.

Jet Goliath Emphoa ManofManyRoles

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Yua Smith
ユア・スミス
The two outsiders were quiet as the old man shared his knowledge, or what bit he had to share. Yua seemed to grow increasingly wary and nervous at the mention of just how expansionist and warlike the groups could be. It didn't surprise her, of course, she knew the West was far from a safe haven, but the prospect of meeting people like that face-to-face was disconcerting, to say the least. "Mister Isaac, you said most of them are violent and expansionist...do you know if the ones were going to right now share those traits? Should we...be ready to be under threat potentially? Would such people attack you so close to your own home?"

It was a valid enough question to be asked, at least regarding Yua's concerns, though she felt awful to ask such. Isaac obviously felt something awful about what had transpired about his students, whatever their studies may have entailed... "You said some of your students had run off to such groups. If you don't mind me asking, what is it you teach, Isaac?" Yua's mind worked to find answers where none could be found, grasping at the metaphorical straw in a vain search to understand everything as quickly as possible. Isaac, it'd seem, had his own questions, however. Felix looked over to him and gave a simple incline of his head before addressing him in kind. "Of course, sir. I had gone to Nye ahead of Miss Smith, as I'm sure you're aware that they dictate who can and cannot travel this far West without harassment. While there I had gone to the Games while they were being hosted. All seemed fine until one of the contestants took to the center stage as it were following an explosion. In a showing of brutality, he announced his name as Dyus. I do not know how the gentlemen did such, but he used some sort of magic or device...Hundreds of thousands of people died in an instant as their familiars were sucked away. The survivors barely number the hundreds, I fear. For whatever reason, I did not meet such a dreadful fate, as I awoke with a head wound against the wall. Make no mistake, I hold no great importance to Nye, nor shall I champion its name, but such a vicious act upon what was no more than innocent civilians is...saddening." After he finished speaking, Yua was staring at the older gentlemen in terror, her voice a sharp cry of "Felix! Oh my God, are you alright!? Why didn't you tell me all of this!?" "My most sincere apologies, miss, I didn't wish to worry you as I know you wished to focus on the trip ahead of us."

Jet​

 

[Goliath]

Elriel looked at Zak. Tsking at the wink and the other saying he liked the nickname. But what he got in return..

Teacup!?

Elriel could feel his face heating up. His head quickly turned to Adamaris for some reassurance. The implications. Well-off? Delicate like glass? Feminine? He had no way of knowing for sure. But it did get under his skin.

“Clever,” he scoffed to Zak.

He nodded to Adamaris as they said they would have fun cooking while he socialized, it was weird to be without his friend by his side, but he had plenty of a distraction. Elriel got off the cot where he had been sitting, following Mavior to the plants.

Maiden’s Tears, Mortician's Rose, Weeping Lillies, and Devil's Mouth. Elriel soaked in the botany lesson, making mental notes of the details given to him about the plants. About the roots and petals and pollen. All their benefits and also drawbacks.

Elriel had been staring at the carnivorous species as another trap on the Devil's Mouth snapped towards Mavior.

But to his surprise, the other's reaction time was plenty enough to stop the attack — listening to the loud snap of the stem before the plant retracted.

“Interesting that it heals itself, even more so seeing that it lowers itself into the soil,” he spoke this curious eyes. “It’s quite a collection. Thanks for the explanation.” He nodded.

Elriel tilted his head for a moment; his home? “Sure. I have no issues with that.”

“I live in Obra, which is the capital city of the country of Valencia. A coastal area where our diet contains a lot of fish and other seafood.

We are free of war and judgmental rule that plagues a lot of other regions. Our government contains a king and an advisory committee consisting of the four noble families; Arden, Garrett, Pridmore, and, my own, Whitlock. The committee can overrule the king allowing for a system of checks and balances.

Our economic power lies in our trade dominance and is one of our more notable accolades. We are regarded as one of the most wealthy of the countries for this reason. We also have prestigious schools focusing on science and literature, as well as the fine arts.

As a people, we are of the belief that leisure time and creativity are of high importance as it allows for a better state of mind. Wine, drugs, nightlife. None of which is frowned upon in moderation within Valencia.

And it is rather beautiful. We are proud of our country, seen in the cleanliness. But more than that, our houses are created by skilled architects. And there are even planters that add life to the streets every few feet.

I recommend a visit if you are nearby. Check out the art museum or maybe watch a play.”

Elriel moved to sit back on the cot where he had been previously.

“But I won’t say Valencia is perfect. Nowhere is. Manners and etiquette, your outward image, play a large part in our culture. You must always present yourself well. Clothing, for example, is typically skillfully designed with intricate patterns.

Our city is also divided by wealth.

This separation is done by large walls — shaped like rings. The utmost sector is for those of lower intelligence and societal standing. The middle ring is for business owners and contains our shopping district. The third lives the wealthy. And finally, the last, the innermost ring, is where the nobles, including the king, live.

Because we are free, people may travel between the rings for shopping or events. You can even move to a better area if you can afford it. But it is certianly challenging. Only the inner section is off limits, which stays heavily guarded.”

He looked over at Mavior, flashing a soft smile. “Forgive me, I am rambling,” he nodded politely, hoping his description had been sufficient for the other.

He turned back to the group spotting the unique animal. “I didn’t know extinct animals could become familiars as well,” Elriel spoke, referencing the wooly mammoth on Ivan’s lap. Glad the male had finally stopped talking politics and justifying himself. It had been like he was trying to play a mind reader, since Elriel had never shown any change in emotion or expression.

“Funny how accurate familiars often are — Like a Tasmanian devil is perfect for you. Really matches your .. chaotic .. energy.” He spoke to Zak as well.

Emphoa (Adamaris) Jet (Zak)
ManofManyRoles (Mavior) EldridSmith (Ivan)

 

[Arcanist]

Faraji Aguta

Mentions: Goliath Jet Lost Echo Anne Boolean

​

Adrian began listing his resume of monsters he faced and pulling out the encyclopaedic knowledge of them. Faraji listened, eyes following Adrian’s as he measured the tunnel for reference of the Hydra’s size. He was curious, of course, but he was unnerved by the types of monsters that he faced, even at his age. “I hope we don’t find one here. Though, I daresay, it would make this whole excursion rather interesting if we did…”

It was already interesting enough with the party that was put together, and what they would be looking for. They did not need a Hydra clinging to the tunnel, swallowing them all whole.

Nihal piqued up with questions of the Hydra’s physiology, feats that Faraji had wondered about. “Are they not all heads attached to one body?” He asked, though, he was not their certified monster hunter here. His reference came from books or stories which he was sure has little substance to them, so it was a matter of guesswork as to what these monsters were like.

And with the mention of…’vampires’, Faraji thought that perhaps his vision of such monsters was skewed. He did not imagine the kind of vampires Adrian explained compared to his vision of charismatic, blood-sucking, handsomely undead denizens of the dark.

Truly, nothing could be like in the story books he read to his son.

Faraji’s head inclined to Goliath as he assured there would be some means of grabbing a souvenir – from a marketplace full of fences. Nihal’s lazy drunken eyes seemed to brighten at the mention of drugs, and something in Faraji seemed to pity him for it. He could not talk. He partook in enough in his time. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were passing something like drywall off as drugs…” He murmured, before he answered Goliath.

“Perhaps I'll pick up some nice jewellery then. I could do with a few more…” He pinched his nose ring. “Well advised on pickpockets. I’ve run into that trap once before.” Not that he was bringing his life savings along with him, but he’d rather like to keep his money.

Conversation turned to why everyone was here. Goliath was here for the status of centurion. Vixie’s was something to do with her parents, with her less than hospitable attitude towards Goliath. Nyall was for a taste of freedom, though, was still shackled by the ‘because I was told to’. Faraji wondered what lie to peddle. Or perhaps, to tell the truth, but to omit the parts he did not want out in the open.

Just as Nye had done. They could not know his part in bringing Taust here.

“I’ve been working within the games for quite some time now,” Faraji explained, looking to them all in turn. “I got caught up in the rubble like most and lived to tell the tale. I wanted to find out more about the ones involved in bringing down the arena and killing all of those people,” he sighed then, “but here I am, fated to be a corpse in the sewers.” He chuckled, almost bemused. This was most likely his punishment, for even bringing Taust here in the first place.

He would learn that not all were just fodder for the entertainment of the masses, as he once believed Taust himself was.

 

[Emphoa]

Evaline couldn't help the awed whistle that escaped her at the pure muck of chaos that was wrought in the sight before them. Her hands slipped into her pockets as she grazed over the prison before she looked to the captain that greeted them. She was eager to follow, but the state of things made her thing of the moment you tossed out feed for the chickens. Basically a blood bath for anything that got right in their way. She firmly pressed her lips together, and briefly wondered how much of an investigation they would be able to do with this being the state of things here. Her eyes flitted back towards Captain Hydraline.

At least it would save the explanation as the blacksmith glanced over towards Charlie and Renn and she puffed out, giving the scared woman a small smile as well. "I don't think any of this lot will let anything happen to you." She finally stated, or at the very least she hoped they wouldn't. She knew she'd be more than willing to put herself in the middle of danger if it meant they would be able to make it all out of this safely, was becoming a centurion really so worth it to brace for something like this or...?

Her mind flashed with the thought of Leon and she firmly pressed her lips together. It was worth it for him, and figure out why... why...

The farmhand let the thought trail off as she brushed her fingers through her hair and she looked back at the captain. "A guide is enough, it seems you have more than enough to worry about on your plate. I think us lot should be able to hold ourselves should it come to it." She glanced towards the group, she knew she couldn't speak for them, but they also didn't have much of a choice, otherwise and she looked back towards the captain. "We'll be prepared." She hoped, at least. Her familiar let out a coo, swiveling her head as she looked back at the little group before Evaline looked at the barn owl and brushed her fingers against her feathers in a silent reassurance.

EldridSmith rozukitsune ManofManyRoles Fred Colon Jet

 

[Jet]

​

"Aye Brynwyr, he's dead as a doornail!" Tessia laughed like she was telling a dumb story from work, blissfully unaware of how callous she seemed. That's how most centurions were when it came to killing enemies of the state, especially when centurion rangers were involved. They were used as weapons when stealth wasn't a main concern, and after years it was easier than breathing. "Thanks for the rundown though, good to have everyone on the same page!"

She meant herself because no-one was less prepared than she was, but that was a skill issue in her opinion. The weaker someone was on the battlefield, the more homework they had to do to compete, and she was an absolute beast who could use the challenge. "Fuck me they write dryly though, it's already hard enough to read when the letters m—

"Ah whatever," she said as Esther grumbled about the mission. It was clear she took things seriously, so she must've been extra weak. "Hey hey! Calm down now!"

Tessia offered her a weak smile. "There's no need to get all fired up lady! We'll make those judgements along the way, but the main goal is... well you know." She snapped her own neck and made a crunching sound with her mouth, before gazing at the forest once more. It was the home of Kratorians before the fall of their civilization — even she knew that much — and she wondered if the cube came from their destination? It piqued even her poor interest in history.

"Maybe there are tons of those cubes down there? You can all get one and we can suffer together!" It seemed that was the extent of her interest. "Anywhoos, I'm sure the rest of the journal was real fun to read, but it doesn't matter for our mission. Just gotta axe the fucker and we'll be home in time for tea!"

Tessia was chipper as a happy kid bouncing around a castle, but her mood changed when the boys barked at each other like dogs. Were they competing for dominance? Like lions fighting for mating rights? Did they want... her? Tessia couldn't blame them of course, she was a stunner and the other girls were pretty cute, but it seemed pointless to chest bang like gorillas, not when there were four women and two men. How absurd indeed.

It got even worse when the ornery drunk bastard — who dropped her flask like it was trash — used her cube in one of his threats! What kind of bullshit was that? "Hey!" She said as he stormed off. "That's my cube! You don't get to touch my cube!"

But he wasn't interested in answering her command, disappearing below deck as she fumed with the others. "What an enormous prick!" She waved at her flask and formed a water bubble around it, flying it across the deck to her hand. "Right then, where were we!" Her smile was back and better than ever before, even if it was a little fake. "So I've tried a few things," she said to the musician. "Had the research boys incinerate it with sun stones, Kwame slammed it with an earth hammer bigger than a ship, oh and Johan shot lasers at it for an hour."

"Submerged it to the bottom of the sea to crush it, had a master theif fuck around with it—

"Did everything," she sighed with resignation at the thought. "Whatever... one day it'll break open, but that's enough talk about my blasted fucking cube." Her eyes softened for a moment, showing a hint of stunted empathy. "I didn't know you lost everyone, that's so sad."

"But revenge helps." Tessia gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing more cathartic."

Arcanist Lost Echo Monbon EldridSmith ZackStop

 

[Jet]

​

"Picking up slack?" Adrian hated repeating himself so he let the conversation end there, but he never mentioned protecting her. There was no slack to carry unless Goliath planned on saving her, drawing a narrow smirk from the redhead. He figured the man was showing his true colors — a bleeding heart who'd rescue a damsel in distress, not someone who genuinely didn't care. Adrian wasn't going to call him on the point though. It didn't matter what mental games his team wanted to play with each other, as long as they weren't bashing each other with rocks.

He was amused by it though, how classic tropes were mirrored in real life. He smirked at his thought as Vixie answered the big bleeding heart, drawing a quiet, grunted laugh from the hunter. "Not bad," his smile grew a little wider. "Next time add a threat — you should see the way people wilt."

He sounded serious to annoy the taller man, making sure his face was deadpan to sell the advice. "The more I think about it, she was a contestant but you were in the stands?"

His brow raised by a hair. "Does that make her more qualified?"

There wasn't any sarcasm in his droll voice, only dryness like a dunes of a vast desert. Then he shrugged and looked over at the monster obsessed duo — both Nyall and Faraji were enamored with the idea of them, and Adrian was happy to entertain. "It would be a little too interesting," he said to the recruiter. "Hydras don't sprout heads from one body, they grow bodies from bodies, and those ones make even more."

He made a snake from fire and hovered it over his palm, showing them how Hydras multiplied. It started with one snake that grew a dozen more from its body, with each one connecting at the tail, and each snake grew a dozen more. The process repeated until there was a teeming mass of scales and writhing muscle, crushing whatever stood in its path.

He showed the process with fire until mass of snakes hovered before him, looking like a tangled mess of vines in a forest. "Cute I know."

"But not as cute as vampires. They hunt in packs and drain every drop of blood from your body." He snuffed his magic and chuckled at an old memory, when a small town contracted him to kill a dozen vampires. "Commoners think they're actual vampires, pale skin and leather shirts, all that jazz."

"There was a girl in a town who wanted to become one of them, too many romance books." He shook his head at her small brain. "Found her screaming in the woods as fifty bats chased her like wild dogs, and when I saved her, she asked me to bite her neck."

He smiled at the memory but grew somber after a moment, as everyone involved was dead besides him. The same village had been destroyed by the worst monsters of all — bored soldiers — and his mentor was dead too. He was good at hiding it though, and his face was completely still as he remembered their deaths. "Anyways," he said to distract himself. "I've heard worse reasons to risk death than what I'm hearing."

He especially meant Nyall with his push for freedom. He wasn't sure what kind of enslavement the man was dealing with, or why coming here would solve his problem, but Adrian could certainly respect it. He'd also respect his privacy and refrain from asking for details, even if he was mildly curious.

He was also curious about the strange centurion. He found himself watching the boy who's familiar danced on the man's shoulder, a clear sign of disrespect. Adrian idly wondered if the centurion would kill the man for ordering him around, and inched away from Goliath just in case.

It was best to keep his clothes clean for now.

"Hah!" Bean shouted as he spun around. "You think I control Chep?"

The centurion maniacally laughed. "Old boy loves you is all! Just look at him!" His familiar jumped around on Goliath's shoulder. "See!"

Bean looked over at the girl with the same erratic grin. "We can do it all missey! You should know better than anyone!" He spun around and tapped his feet against the floor, putting on some freak performance. "We can be loveeeers," he was singing now, the little shit. "We can be frieeeeends! We'll solve whateva — you give us to teeeeend!"

Goliath Lost Echo Arcanist Anne Boolean

 

[EldridSmith]

Zulan could smell the ash as he exited the ship and looked around with glowing eyes as he merged with Crispy, taking on all his traits save the claws as it seemed things were amiss. It looked like his body was now covered in fur and rags as he started sensing the air around him, he could "see" through the hairs, it allowed him to sense the air, what was in it, how it was moving, make it easier to breathe, and more as it helped him perceive the dimly lit room. It was by no means perfect, but having a general idea of the space around him should something strange occur would be helpful, and the smoke didn't bother him anymore. While his familiar made him look like he was wearing rags, he was still somewhat out of place, but considering most places had wretches and beggars, he shouldn't be too out of place if he put on an act and leaned on a cane, having left the rest of his items, save some rations, back on the ship. Thanks to his mutation, his hair's bright glow was hidden, leaving his eyes as the only thing to make him stand out.

The centurion and captain immediately started with the formalities, though something with Kilderkin came up in the middle, it was brief. It seemed that things were less than ideal as no safety could be guaranteed, and only a guide could be spared. Clearly something was fishy, and it wasn't just Kilderkin, apparently the fate of the island was at stake. Zulan moved away to look down on the city below in the meantime.

As he looked down upon the crowds, he could see the eyes of the people far below, it was a familiar sight to him, however, the eyes of many set ablaze hungry to slaughter their fellow man like animals. But this time the bloodlust wasn't pointed towards the innocent, but towards Nye. He didn't know Nye well enough to judge whether they were good or evil, but most governments were rotten when they grew larger than the size of villages and towns. He staunchly believed that the more people packed together in a place, the more evil would occur there, it was based on his own evidence, and from what he had heard of others it was the case elsewhere. Charlie joined him in his viewing of the city, which apparently reminded her of home. She soon went to tend to Renn and help her with the situation. Zulan had little to offer her currently, so it was good that the rough woman took such a liking to Renn.

However his time to muse to himself was quickly gone as Evaline finished up the conversation with the Captain and the time to head down arrived. Hopefully those of the others still in clothes that would give them away would be able to change before heading out, but Zulan had no idea what they were to deal with aside an angry mob. Despite the chaos going on outside, Zulan's face was almost serene as his deep orange eyes looked to the other's. "When the music changes, so does the dance." He mutters aloud, a saying from his tribe, though shared with many others. He was here to get information, and the sounds outside was the music he had to dance to. He turned to Kwame. "So Kwame, we can hear the tune the people are playing, we can dance to the tune, but what else should we know for our performance?" He inquired with patient eyes as he looked at the heavily armored man before addressing him in a shared African tongue: "Are there disguises for you and the others?" He inquired, sincerely hoping that the centurion was prepared for this and had items for everyone to blend in. He could also make use of a cloak to help with his disguise, but otherwise he was as prepared for the task as he could be.
Fred Colon rozukitsune ManofManyRoles Emphoa Jet

 

[Lost Echo]

Standing silently admist the groaning gears, Captain Hydraline surveyed the ‘team’ Nye had sent. It looked like a mess. One she did not want on her hands for long. She almost pitied the guide selected to take them. There was the pretty princess looking like a tourist. Well, she actually reminded her of that popstar Rin or something, but she obviously was in for an awakening. Elyscia wondered what her crime was. She’d seen Xysma break dolls like her before, but coulding bring her to care about her fate.

The other three women were blondes, with one’s hair white enough to be confused as a Hydraline. It was unlikely to win her any favors down below. The second also had pale hair, but her mutated red eyes showed she was likely from lesser stock. To her credit, she looked like she could survive on the streets. More than Miss Red at least. The last stood there with a dumb smile on her face. The captain had seen the interaction between Kwame and this woman, but she ignored it. Perhaps there was something to her or she’d shatter on Xysma. Regardless, she had other problems to focus on.

Still, whatever the mystery between her and the centurion, Elyscia was pleased it was an honorable one like Kwame. She never knew what to expect when one came as they were a…varied bunch. But this one was a guard captain. She could respect that, even if at the moment he looked lost. Probably due to the heavy casualties during that attack she’d heard about last week. He’d be best to wake up. He’d be like a flare walking in that shiny armor of his.

She hadn’t let it be known that a centurion was coming, unsure if they were assass--the quiet type. Only her upper levels knew. But everyone knew of the death of the centurions and if they saw him, who was unmistakably one, they’d likely assume he was sent to quell the riots (yeah, she wished) or was there for the deaths.

The other man could blend in well, though Elyscia could tell armor when she saw it. That it looked almost like burlap was much more discreet than her own antlers, but she wasn’t the type to hide. She was a leader, who had more to do than babysit. But she had to play nice with Nye, even now. As she waited for Nye’s support to queal the riots.

"We'll be prepared."

Steel grey eyes flicked to the woman who’s hair was as pale as any Hydraline’s.“You’ll need to be.” She did not voice any concerns of how the ragtag team would manage. They were not under her command. While she would have--done things differently, Kwame was cited as an honorable captain. For all that he looked like he was missing his other half, he’d likely wake up on the streets. With a becaon like his armor was, he’d have to. The captain could only speculate what the rioters would do with such an obvious Centurion, but they wouldn’t ignore it.

The grinding gears came to an abrupt stop as her man reversed the lever, causing a slight drop before the chains caught the platform. Her officers were stoic, stable and used to the sudden stop. Immediately, she strode forward as the gate opened before her. A procedure that was obviously well practiced.

She led the group down the passageway, the riots below muffled by the stone surrounding them, but not silenced. Her greeves clanked in step with her men’s as a pair ahead pushed open two large doors. The room she entered was hexagonal, each wall made up of a large window with noticeably thick glass. A large metal table dominated the room, a map pinned across it. Against the walls were desks, with radio equipment, men and women stationed at each.

Captain Hydraline strode to one such desk, demanding, “Did the ship clear off safely?” The last thing she needed was the rioters getting access to an aircraft. They belonged on the island. They would stay here.

Once getting an affirmative, she looked back at the group. “Your guide should be here momentarily.” Moving to the desk, she waved a hand to show the map. “Here is your destination. Most of these streets,” her finger traced the path between the fortress and factory, “Are in flames right now.”

Fred Colon rozukitsune ManofManyRoles Emphoa EldridSmith Jet

 

[Goliath]

Goliath couldn’t help but chuckle as he was called an ass, shaking his head at Nyaall’s encouraging but drunken noise. Vixie had said it as if it was some insult. But the girl couldn’t even do that well.

He let her ramble on..and on..and on. About not wanting to be here. Something about her parents. Her inability to fight. Before noticing the volume of the child’s voice dropping, as if she didn’t believe what she was proclaiming either.

“Whatever you say, princess. Just don’t get in my way,” he scoffed. She wasn’t listening anyway, watching as Nyaall went for a high-five.

‘You too?’ He thought to himself, turning to the redhead. “Oh yes. An insult would be great. Or better yet — go on. Hit me. That’ll be perfect,” he taunted her in response to Adrian’s comment.

His eyes widened, facing back to the man, an eyebrow raised, wondering if he was serious. Because Goliath felt as if he just lost brain cells.

“Much more qualified. One thousand percent,” Goliath hummed. “Or possibly, some of us have real jobs and don’t have time to dance around the stage and play fight.”

“I stumbled into some free time, waiting for my flight, and thought I could catch a decent show. I was sorely mistaken,” Looking at the girl again.

He couldn’t help but internally shutter as the memory of how he’d been trapped under that rock flooded in, still not over it.

But there were a lot of questions about the bats and the hydras to distract him. Which Goliath didn’t care that much about. Yet clearly, Nyaall or Faraji did since they continued talking about it.

The display of fire was interesting enough to keep his attention. But he lost him as soon as he started talking about romance books.

He snapped back as Nyaall yelled freedom in response to the question. Wondering how someone could be so drunk at this time of the day. Goliath also loved a good drink, but that was in the evening after the sun had set. Not at 2pm.

Goliath turned to Faraji as he talked about himself more than he had previously. No. That was more than the other had even spoken at all. Wondering if he was finally getting comfortable?

The hippie was working with the games and was now looking to discover more about the ones who caused the attack. A pretty noble reason until he got all self-deprecating, making him sigh.

Of course, Nyaall was the one to also ask him about the drugs. “What kind? Idk man. Probably Flake, Lakua, and some of your more standard stuff.” He shrugged. That wasn’t his kind of thing, but he’d been around the crime world his entire life.

His red eyes glanced at Faraji again. “You’re not wrong. Quality can always be questionable. They could cut it with some crazy things to make double the profit,” he agreed.

He had also noticed his nose ring earlier, which was pretty unique. Not surprised about the jewelry comment. He seemed like the boujee type.

Still Goliath nodded, glad someone seemed to appreciate his advice. “It’s a common trap. People who are good at it don’t even need to bump into you. You walk by, and your wallet is just gone.”

As their centurion turned around, Goliath felt a bit of relief — until he heard him speak. Didn’t control his familiar!? He didn’t believe it at all. So what? Was he supposed to just deal with it then?

Goliath ‘tsked’ before gritting his teeth together. Hearing Bean laugh while the familiar skittered around his shoulder, making his skin crawl.

“Well, I don’t love him,” he hissed. Knowing the other would be no help before hearing him bust into a fucking song.

Touch his familiar? Or let himself keep being disrespected? It was a terrible situation. He reached up to flick it off like he had said he would but froze. His hand hovering over the shrimp before ruffling his hair in frustration. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Goliath turned to Nyaall, deciding to talk to try to ignore the annoying situation. Maybe it would get bored. “So how many days have you been drunk now? You know drowning yourself in alcohol won’t help anything,” he asked curiously.

Jet (Adrian) Arcanist (Faraji)
Anne Boolean (Nyaall) Lost Echo (Vixie)

 

[ZackStop]

Ren was a little stunned by Johan's blunt answer, but it was an answer that at least gave the boy some clarity. It explained the snafu that was taking place all around them, a morbid reality that someone had died in the workplace was enough to stir the pot for these types of folk. Those who feed off of the misery and misfortune just for a story. It wasn't something he had experienced first hand however, but now here he was in the middle of a circus. That's probably how the detective viewed it, just like in a crime drama.

As soon as the doors were pushed up to the bloody scene, Johan's assessment felt like a huge understatement, and it was. This was no ordinary homicide, double homicide or triple even. Dozens upon dozens of people, all dead. The stench of it wafted itself towards them as the doors casted a current of the horrid air. It causing Phalanx to shutter, Ren however just looked on with a grimace, dazed by the magnitude. It was just like in the arena only days before, concentrated in such a confined space in comparison. The images he saw that day flashed before him as his mind automatically made the comparison to the dead that laid before them. It took him almost all his will power to push back the image that tried to creep its way into his consciousness, the image of an elderly man covered by Ren's cowl laying motionless in the dirt. That was the last thing Ren wanted to think about right now.

"More like a massacre..." Ren managed to squeeze the words through his lips in response to Johan's previous statement. It was at that time that he was able to shake off the daze he found himself in for the first few seconds. He was forced into this cycle of witnessing horrors, but in a way it made him well equipped for what was in front of him.

He took a few steps forward from the door way to get a proper look around. "I'm fine." He took a breath. "I'm alright." he spoke with a mumble, either to assure those around him that he could handle this or to simply assure himself that he could. Either way he was here on a mission and would take it in strides the best a 16-year-old boy could.

Ren took a few careful steps in an unoccupied direction, to stop at a man who was left on his side after sliding off his station. He looked down at the corpse with a look of something he could hardly describe. Was it anger? The act alone enough to boil he blood, wondering, "who would do this?" Perhaps the act disgusted him, but with a mix of something else. Sorrow perhaps. He couldn't stare for long, he told himself he had to look away, so his attention diverted to the ceiling.

He glanced around past the hanging lights at the windows high above them casting a dim light from all the smog in the air outside. He didn't know what he was looking for or if he was supposed to be looking at all, but he managed to stop spacing out to listen in on what the detective was saying. He'd leave the investigating to the expert and try to not get too terribly invested in the murders. It would certainly make him sick eventually, but it seemed everyone was invested on this angle, wondering how someone or a group could kill so many without a single one of them putting up a fight.

It certainly boggled his mind, and no one else seemed to have a clue either. He looked over at Anya as she whispered hypotheses to herself. He couldn't tell what she was saying, but she was clearly distressed, possibly because of the traumatic events at the games almost happening all over again for the group. Even Johan, while nowhere near as affected, had never seen something like this. Surprising as it was being that he was a seasoned Centurion. Whatever was going on here was on a whole new level.

Ren looked over at the detective. "Detective, Sir," Ren quietly cleared his throat. "You'll get to the bottom of this, right?" He didn't even know his name and could only surmise his experience based on his age and demeanor, but the mystery shrouding the culprit was concerning. They could have been after the same document the group was here for. The assurance that this mystery will be solved would certainly make everyone feel better Ren thought. It was true what Johan said, that this slaughter wasn't much of their concern, but it will be hanging in the back of Ren's mind if they can't figure it out. For everyone's sakes, Ren hoped the detective's answer would be a positive one.

Jet rozukitsune Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[Jet]

​

"No they're worse, paranoid hermits who never leave their land!" Isaac squinted down the street and scowled at a crowd of townsfolk, milling about like a bunch of ignorant fools. They knew better than to mess with the venomous tribesmen. "They kill anyone who enters their territory, but you'll never see them unless you do."

"Makes this even more worrying." His steps grew heavy as he increased his pace twice over, crunching gravel as his stroll became a march. His mind spawned a dozen morbid outcomes for the dangerous meeting he was about to have, and he was so distracted he barely remembered the second question. "What I—

"What I taught yes." He glanced at the teen with a hint of sadness in his eyes, memories playing in his mind like a bad movie. He remembered the flash of fire. The smell of corpses and screaming people on their knees. The tears falling like rain from a cloud. "I once taught—

The word burned his throat like bile. "I taught magic, self defense." He grunted with disapproval. "I wanted to help them survive but there was something I didn't know."

"When a man is trained for war – war he seeks to prove his training." His brow furrowed as he looked back at the young man, mourning the dead with a simple prayer of release. "They were brothers, mothers, sisters and fathers, friends and lovers bound in soul. May they rest peacefully."

He pursed his mouth when he finished the simple prayer, cursing whoever was behind the attack. He never liked the games but still, those who attended didn't deserve death. Not when they were simply misguided. "The audacity of it."

"I can only imagine what kind of monster could do such a thing." He sensed the cloud of death hovering over his visitors, a creeping evil that corrupted what it touched, and he prayed it left them soon. "I'm glad you were unharmed," Isaac began, more to distract himself than anything. "Now let's see if your luck holds."

"Atsali!" He shouted as he neared the group who confronted them. "What brings you here?"

"Love," a man said from the crowd, parting the mobs as he approached Isaac. "But not mine."

"That's no reason to leave your lands!"

"But it is." The man loomed over Isaac. He was giganti with rippling muscles and his clothes were quite revealing, animal pelts weren't a modest thing. "One among you lay with centurions!"

The crowd murmured in disbelief. "She betrays anyone with Kratorian blood in their veins!"

ManofManyRoles

 

[Fred Colon]

Kilderkin looked at the map Hydraline showed them. Fire, hmm? Unpleasant. But it did mean things might be chaotic enough that they could pass as prisoners. At least, if Kwame dressed down a little bit. She wanted to ask the captain for a more detailed explanation of what was happening. Two Centurions were dead. But why the riots? Who was in charge of them, if anyone. What had precipitated them? Were they making demands? A base of operations? but 'Kildi' likely didn't have the foresight for that, so she kept quiet and hoped someone else would. Instead, she opened her mouth to agree with Evaline.

"Right. Easy peasy lemon squeezy." She said, hands on her hips. "I'm sure we're more than prepared!"

Though Renn didn't, actually, seem all that prepared. She seemed terrified. Once again, Charlie belied her rough exterior by attempting to make the pop star feel better, albeit in a rather indelicate way. It was good to know she had a decent heart under there. She thought Charlie could be relied on, so long as she didn't give her a reason to turn against her. Zulan was taking this all in stride, too. Preparing for the coming task, donning a disguise. Wise. Kwame certainly needed one, as did the famous Renn. To be honest, she and Zulan might be recognizable too, if anyone here had been watching the games. Charlie, on the other hand would likely fit right in, and Evaline might stand out thanks to her demeanor, but hopefully wouldn't be in immediate danger unless the prisoners had gone truly feral.

"These prisoners won't be a match for us soon to be Centurions, and a real Centurion!" She glanced back at everyone else, and grinned at them. "We'll get this done lickety split, Ms. Captain Hydraline, or my name isn't Kilderkin!" She caught Kwame's eyes as she said her name. She was playing it up a little bit, but she wanted to make sure he got the message, even though he was hopefully smart enough to understand already. Her name was Kilderkin.

"Is the guide gonna get here soon?"

Jet Emphoa ManofManyRoles EldridSmith rozukitsune

 

[Jet]

​

Zak was about to say priests were untouchable, even Macragge raiders spared them unless they were attacked first, but Ivan was kidding of course. He wasn't the kind of man who razed chappels for sport, more a people pleaser who wanted to be liked by his peers. Zak gleaned that from the way he spoke to them. His offers of snacks and lessons on how to use a sword, but he wasn't being manipulative. He simply wanted to help around the ship.

"Who needs a sword?" Zak swiped knives from his vest and twirled them in his hands, tossing them back and forth before spinning them around his fingers. He tossed them up and they rotated until the blades pointed down, falling past him as he grabbed them from the air, sheathing them in one movement. "These are quicker, better in a pinch and harder to dodge see."

"Swords are too slow." He remembered his fights against sword users, others with big axes and warhammers. They always thought he was too small to threaten them on the battlefield, until he passed their range and poked the gaps in their armor. It was more natural than swinging a sword like a bloody marionette, dancing around all prissy like. "Fun to play with knives too, would probably wear out the handles on a voyage like that one." He referenced the boredom of traveling with priests — who said hell wasn't real eh?

Zak would live in a room of them when he passed away, burning was too boring a punishment. Instead he'd be forced to learn every verse of the Bible. "Though I guess this ain't much better." He looked at Spaceman with concern on his face, wondering if the boy was suffering head trauma. He also wondered if this was some elaborate prank on him for the laughs, punctuated by Mavior cackling at the end....

No.

There was no way that was true. "You uhh," Zak patted Mavior's shoulder. "Yeah. The most effective one ever! Congratulations!"

Zak cleared his throat in the awkward silence, realizing there was no hope left in the world. This man was blinded by head trauma to the humor of the world, and there was no chance he'd see the light. "You know... your familiar should be a starfish mate."

He chuckled and looked over at the crippled girl, brow raising when she mentioned jealousy. "Huh?" He scratched his head as one of his eyes widened. "For you?"

He cocked his head and snickered before turning from the girl, deeply sighing as he sprawled on his bed. He reached up like a stretching cat as the others rambled on and on, and lord knows they could fill the silence. There was something about plants and the best way to roast alligator, maybe, he wasn't sure but either way, he was completely lost. He only paid attention twice the entire time. The comment about Zebras and his own familiar.

"No chance, Zeeeeeeeebra." He winked at Adamaris. "Good to know you're a fine sport, that's how we do things in Macragge see. If someone ain't breakin your balls then check your drink for poison yeah?"

He rolled over and met eyes with Elriel. "Listen Teacup, I'm the most clever of em all. Nobody does it like me."

"Mozzie the same way, smart and chaotic like yours truly." He smirked at the polished noble. "You said something about Valencia yeah?" He was shameless about his... fleeting attention when they rambled. "Always wanted to go for the girls, heard they're hotter than a whore's breath."

"We have a song about em down south."

EldridSmith ManofManyRoles Emphoa Goliath

 

[Lost Echo]

The focus on monsters seemed to be helping her fellow redhead, but it wasn’t exactly helpful for Vivian. She disagreed with Faraji’s description of interesting, but maybe the…man, right she’d decided man, but what if he was one of those trans-ladies? anyway, maybe they had a flair for understatement. She knew she had nothing to fear of those: it was the humans she should be scared of, but as Nihal’s started on a tangent of anatomy, she couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose. The monster hunter’s pyrotechnic display was distracting, but all fire users were pyrophilic. Still, the spreading branches, each exponentially growing, would probably be a good defense too. She looked down at the snake on her arm. There was no reason it couldn’t do the same. That’d be safer than just splitting up into a minefield like Bean’s before. It’d almost be a net.

She sighed when she heard what grasped her brother’s attention, “Yeah, let’s say no to drugs. Knowing your luck, it’ll be rat poison not drywall. It’s scary enough that you’re drunk.” She didn’t want to be the one to point it out, but she was just a nameless girl. He was a superstar. And he wasn’t even sober. Why didn’t Goliath bother to try protecting him? As if that was what he was doing for her.

As for pickpockets, Vixie wasn’t carrying any money. All she had that was valuable was Nyaal’s signature, but even that had gotten wet with sweat and was smeared. Still, she wondered if they’d be mad to realize she didn’t.

Then the Faraji person spoke up as a corpse for the sewers. If only he’d be so lucky. “You’re pretty too.” She blushed and her ears twitched. That was awkward. Maybe if she didn’t turn to look at him, Nihal wouldn’t start flirting again. Maybe everyone would ignore that.

Her savior came in the form of squealing? Maybe that was supposed to be singing, just intentionally really annoying. She watched as the steps didn’t trip him up while he…danced, but couldn’t keep from commenting, “Maybe not all of them can sing.” Interesting. He had to like her. If she was going to survive this.

But the brute spoke the question she’d been wondering all week. Well, not how many days had he been drunk--the closest to sober since they’d reached the fortress he’d gotten had been that day with her parents--but how long he planned to stay that way. She’d try to push, but didn’t know how. Didn’t want to seem boring or uncool. Maybe a guy he liked would get an answer. Her ear twitched in the catboy’s direction.

Anne Boolean Arcanist Jet Goliath

 

[Jet]

​

Francisco Escarra had been attracted to the stage as young man. He started as a preacher and then a commity member for a union, before entering politics as a populist. He echoed the rage of his people when he campaigned years ago. Their words flowed through his speeches and their intense passion, raging like fire in a furnace, drove him forward with the slow, immovable confidence of a continent.

He was a rising star before the state declared him dangerous, his speeches were banned and a warrant was issued for his arrest. He spent years hiding and bringing people to his cause, and then he became a member of the alliance. His group was added to their ranks and together, like a sledgehammer they would destroy the institutions of Nye. He would see them dismantled and cast away like trash on the street. The council ripped apart and Vincent hung from a tree. He would kill the nobles and usher an era of peace and prosperity, and he would kill anyone who stood in his way.

"TO ME!!" He snarled as he strode through the crowd, spit flying from his mouth as his men moved forward. "TO THE FORTRESS!"

"WE WILL PULL DOWN EVERY BRICK! EACH ONE STAINED WITH THE BLOOD OF OUR ANCESTORS!" His men formed a small circle around him. They pushed forward in a slow steady advance, pushing away those who impeded them. Francisco looked back at his second in command, a brute from Byzantine who'd spent twenty years on Xysma. "Come Alexei! We will make an offering to the devils behind these walls."

"Aye." Alexei dragged an officer behind him by the hair. The man kicked and screamed as he clawed at Alexei's hand, but the brute barely noticed. The crowd swelled as the officer passed them with the prisoner. They threw stones and trash from the cracked, crumbling street where thousands raged to the heavens. Their screams shook the earth and around the small circle of men, people swarmed forward like a wave. They climbed on stalls and pushed over wagons. They set buildings ablaze and screamed from rooftops. There was another guard strung from a light post by the neck, her corpse swaying in the smokey breeze.

"They will remember us." Franco slowly turned and raised his fist. "THEY WILL REMEMBER THE UNITED SOUND OF OUR VOICE! THEY WILL REMEMBER THE SCARS WE LEAVE!"

"THERE WILL BE BLOOD!"

The crowd cheered as Franco stopped before the walls. He spun around and looked at ravenous members of the crowd, meeting their wild eyes with furious ones of his own. "BRING US BARRELS BUT NOT FOR DRINK! BRING US WAGONS BUT NOT FOR HORSES!"

"WE MUST BUILD A STAGE MY FRIENDS!" Dozens of men fanned out and found what he demanded. They passed wooden barrels and carts over the writhing mass of people, handing them to the men around Franco. They placed the barrels in four spots and flipped the wagon on its back, hoisting it atop with a collective grunt. Franco climbed on the platform and Alexei followed close behind, along with the prisoner he dragged.

"LADIES! AND GENTLEMEN!" Francisco screamed out. "BY THE ANCIENT LAWS OF COMBAT!"

"ON THIS CHOSEN GROUND!" His voice was horse and ragged, but he screamed with the passion of a madman. "TO SETTLE GOOD AND ALL — WHO HOLDS SWAY OVER THE LANDS OF NYE!"

"US WORKERS, WHO TOIL IN BLOOD FOR THE GOOD OF OUR PEOPLE." He raised his hands like a conductor before a crescendo. "OR THOSE WHO'D SEE US SUFFER!"

His back was heavy with the hopes of thousands, but there was no doubt in his heart. The revolution would begin here and now. "WHAT SAY YOU?"

The crowd roared as Alexei stepped on the guard, forcing him to his hands and knees. "Before I take your head." The brute took a massive sword from his back. His accent was thick Russian and his voice was booming. "Do you have last words?"

"Don't do this," the officer groaned as tears rained from his eyes. "I've done nothing wrong!"

"I've always..." the guard laughed like a madman. "I've always been nice to your people, and when I wasn't—

"I was only following orders! It wasn't my fault!" The guard hammered the stage with his fist. "Don't do this, please I beg you! Have mercy on me please! I've only ever followed orders!"

"Franco," Alexei said. "What do I do? He was only following orders?"

Francisco looked over and without any hesitation, he venomously spat two words.

"Kill him."

Alexei smiled and raised up his sword. "Hey! Look at me!" His booming laugh was deep and imposing, like a beast stomping the ground. "Now I'm following orders too!"

The guard screamed "NO NO NO!" but soon he was silent. His head cascaded from the platform as blood sprayed from his neck, red mist painted the leader's face.

"TO THAT END!" Francisco screamed as blood dripped from his face, staring at the distant control room. He threw off his coat and pulled long, curved knives from the back of his belt. "I DECLARE WAR ON NYE!"

The crowd pushed forward and slammed against the wall, passing up pickaxes, shovels and pipes to hammer the bricks. There were casters among them who barraged the walls with every element at the same time, and soon cracks formed on the surface. Francisco pointed his knives at the fortress and with the same fury as before, he screamed out, "FIGHT! FIGHT AND EARN YOUR FREEDOM!"

—
​

Kwame saw how they looked at him, like he was some kind of fool gallavanting in his armor. He knew better than that of course. "Yes Zulan," he answered in his quiet, humble tone. "I will don what Captain Hydraline can spare." He looked down at the map and memorized as much as he could, thankfully Xysma was a grid pattern. It could easily be broken into quadrants based on cardinal directions, and then subdivided based on the same principle.

"You underestime them... Kilderkin. They are hardened, numerous." He doubted she underestimated them in truth, but he would play along for now. He wasn't going to impede when he owed her so much, not when he'd wronged her so badly. He felt a pang of sorrow in his chest for what he'd done. The taste of iron reminded him further of his sins, but this is what he wanted. He would make amends by protecting her no matter the cost to himself, even if it meant death.

"The rooftops would let us travel unobstructed by the flames, mostly." He walked to the window and looked out on the crowd. There was a pack of men who looked more organized than the rest, and Kwame narrowed his eyes at the sight of them. "There seem to be organized elements among them, I've seen this before."

"But do not be afraid," he said to the less experienced among them. "I am one of the strongest centurions, and I will protect you with my life."

"No matter what th—

His eyes widened as the men built a platform, dragging a guard onto the improvised stage. "Captain!" He looked back. "They're going to execute that man!"

He leaned forward on a console and watched the decapitation take place, his stomach twisting as he whispered prayers below his breath.

"What is this hell," he growled like a bear, his mouth trembling with anger. He despised anyone who executed prisoners to make a point. "As if we've learned nothing."

Fred Colon ManofManyRoles Lost Echo rozukitsune Emphoa

 

[rozukitsune]

"Oi. Remember our deal, aye? I'll stay good to my end if you do the same. If yer tryin' to hide inside of your skin, yer doin' a piss poor job at it. Want a jacket instead? Bit hot for it now."

Renn swallowed, and even though Charlie had already made a show of chewing her out for putting her arms on the woman - she took these words as permission; clinging to the grumpy Macraggian as though the other woman was her personal lifeline as her eyes darted around trying to pointlessly get all of the people below in view. It was a thoroughly lost cause. She shook her head to the offer of the jacket, not seeing how that would help in this heat.

Things seemed to be determined to scar the poor starlet even further as they made it to an place where there was a viewing area of what was going on below. Watching the man declare war on Nye didn't itself make things worse - but the beheading most assuredly did, causing Renn to shriek and close her eyes, curling against Charlie like a small child might. The situation might've been hilarious honestly if it weren't so dire.

As Kwame and others made their attempts at soothing the teary-eyed young woman, she sniffled and shook - but nodded to their encouragements. It wasn't like she really had a choice, right? She wasn't altogether certain what karmic entity she'd angered during her short lifespan but she was definitely convinced it had it out for her. No question about it... she was dead meat.

'Look on the bright side... at least things can't get any worse.' She thought valiantly to herself as her fingers tightened around Charlie's arm. 'Death is the end. Nothing happens after. May as well do my best while I can for the others. At least they've got a shot at surviving.' She bit her lip, but her eyes hardened. She would not be the reason any of these nice people died here, she decided. Especially not the knight in the armor, despite his promises. What kind of a damsel would she be if she allowed the knight to die on her behalf? Disgraceful... If things got dire enough, she could at least sacrifice herself to give them time to run.

A grim thought, to be sure... but for some reason it gave her purpose.

She managed to paste a smile on her face like she was surrounded by paparazzi - a pale echo of Kilderkin's own masterful performance and gave the collected individuals a victory sign with one hand she'd managed to pry from Charlie's side. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

@ Fred Colon @ ManofManyRoles @ Lost Echo Jet @ Emphoa