Fantasy The Great Games of Nye

[Lost Echo]

Anya let Ava cling to her, ignoring the pain. Sure it would bruise, but when she wasn’t merged with Kallos, her bones were solid, she’d be fine. “It’s shit. All of it. It hurts, but it’s better to care too much, than to not care at all.” She wondered if the two assassins--for Ren had looked hella pale--cared. Really. Or had they seen so much death that this mass murder was nothing.

She pushed the thought away. She knew herself enough to know she needed to pretend they cared. Besides, she’d heard Johan’s ramblings as they walked in the hallway. About wanting to change. To get out of the killing lifestyle. To be normal. Narzas had been quiet, seemingly more confused about the topic than Anya herself. But she’d seemed so different on the boat. Less tense for a fight. Less lost.

Anya shifted in Ava’s grasp, looking out at the people, who’d obviously noticed them leave. These people who had someone in that building. Who were hoping against hope their person was still alive, trapped maybe, but alive. They were calling out to the pair specifically. Did she answer? Break that hope? She could soften the news with hope of answers, but she had no news of life.

But she could get her own answers. Maybe. “C’mon,” She pulled away from Ava, grabbing her hand instead. “I want to ask about Hannah. It’d do you good to think about something else anyway.” She pulled her toward the barricade, waving her free hand at the officer who tried to stop them. “Trust me. I don’t want to think about what happened in there, let alone talk about it.” She reassured the man. “I’m asking about something totally different.”

Stopping at the border, the line between us and them, she looked at the quieter people in front of her. They’d heard her reassurance to the police, but some still called for answers. “Is there someone in your community everyone trusts?” She asked, even as she wondered who’d count on Peirama. Probably Blake…pushing the dead away from her mind, she added, “An elder perhaps?” All of these people were adults. They wouldn’t trust children. Anya knew she was on the cusp of adulthood. So she’d be listened to. Especially as she was desperate. No, she meant they were desperate for news.

News she could give them. In exchange for answers.

Jet Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[Jet]

​

Johan almost answered with sarcasm of his own, but there was no time for nonsense, even if Anya was the one who started it. Even if her words dripped with venom and for what? What purpose did it serve? What the hell was she thinking? There was no room for drama and sarcastic little quips. They were dealing with mass murder at the source of their investigation, and he doubted it was a coincidence. The last thing they needed was strife when such power, so precise and destructive, loomed over them like a wave.

Johan would have words when they left the scene — that much was certain. He wasn't going to lose his temper or even raise his voice, but he was going to ask what she was thinking, what her problem was and how to fix it. The alternative was a wound festering between them.

"Well," he said when she left. "Teenagers are strange."

"Whatever." He searched dozens more with his other teammates, checking hands as they found more letters. Yet he wouldn't have any luck. The ones he searched were standard issue corpses, no creepy letters from a deranged killer. He checked a dozen more but it was still more of the same, and to him it seemed they were done. "I think that's it."

"Haven't found anything else." He walked over from a section of shelves and storage crates. "I've always been shit at word puzzles... was taught how to stab things really, really well, but literary pursuits? I don't think anatomy books count."

"Oh well." He sparked a cigarette and leaned back against a table. "So... these donuts."

Johan stared at the young man. His face was stern and emotionless, eyes piercing until he said, "The donut hole."

"It must symbolize the killer's empty heart."

"What do you think eh?" He smiled at Narzas and made a donut with light magic, covered with white icing and pink sprinkles. "Or maybe this was the murder weapon?"

Johan waved away the apparition with a shit eating grin, before writing the letters on a small notepad. "You know."

"The word don't is in there," he tapped his pen against the page. "Shut and trim are in there too... no that wouldn't make any sense."

He tapped away and went through the possibilities in his head, eyes wandering to Narzas as he pondered. "About the joke," he said before looking too long, gaze shifting to the young man. "You can ask anyone who's been around death, laughter is how you stay sane."

"You can't imagine the shit they say on a battlefield, so don't sweat it."

rozukitsune ZackStop

Meanwhile

​

The crowd cared not for her words. They cared for themselves. Their families and their sorrow. They looked past her and when she asked them for a name, an elder, someone she could trust, they drowned her words with screams and curses. They pushed against the barricade and a woman, wild eyed and manic, grabbed Anya's shirt. "MY HUSBAND!"

"HE'S IN THERE!" Her grip tightened around the cloth. "PLEASE TELL—

"Hands to yourself!" A guard rushed over and shoved her away. "Fucking animals, back up!"

"BACK THE FUCK UP!" He shoved a man with the blunt end of his spear, knocking him into the writhing crowd. "NEXT TIME I'LL USE THE SHARP END!"

"Sorry about that," he said to Anya. "I suggest—

His words suddenly became vague and inaudible, like he was speaking through a thick wall. He moved in slow motion and the crowd was the same way. They were almost frozen as their cries became distant and garbled, like they were speaking underwater. The women could only hear one thing in the nonsense — the sound of a strumming banjo.

"I went to the crossrooooad," came a warbling man through the crowd. Thick with sorrow and loss.

"Fell down on my kneeees."

"I went to the crossrooooad."

"Fell down on my kneeees."

"Asked the Lord above have mercyyyy, save poor Bob if you please"

He sat on an old wooden bucket across the street. His face was obscured by cigar smoke and his brimmed hat, ashen black and tattered, hung over his eyes like an awning. "Yeah, standin' at the crossroooad, tried to flag a ride."

"Ohh I tried to flag a ride."

"Didn't nobody seem to know me, babe, everybody pass me by."

He strummed the strings before kicking back against the wall behind him, smiling through his smoke cloud. "Love that song; real beauty ain't it?"

"Now, what was that you were askin about little lady?"

​

Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[Jet]

​

Adrian wished he had popcorn for his front row seats; watching the man's rant made fine entertainment. He wasn't going to insult Goliath now though, best to let him stew until another chance arose. Instead he walked behind the group and smirked when nobody was looking, holding a laugh when Goliath finished his taunts.

"Hmm?" Adrian grumbled in response. "Dancing?"

"Good way to learn footwork, you should try sometime." His gaze moved to Nyall when he suggested fire. The ignorance was sad but not surprising in this place, where monsters were mere stories for kids.

"Yeah," Adrian droned. "Same way you climb a mountain by putting one foot after the other, or write a book by typing letters."

"I was with two fire mages when I killed one, and both of them were ripped apart before the end. I barely escaped in one piece." He'd never been so drained in his life, mere inches from passing out from exertion. It was no simple matter to burn one of those things. They were gigantic and regenerated before you could say their name, and their scales were hard to burn through. It was the only way to kill one but still, the singer made it sound easy.

"But I'm not complaining," he said. "If monsters were easy to kill, I'd be waiting in bread lines with a tin cup."

He went quiet and looked down the path stretching before them, it was ridiculously long when he thought about it. They must've been a hundred, maybe two hundred feet below ground at this point. The air was growing colder with every step they took, like a spring morning with fresh dew on the ground. It was a nice change from the subtle pollution of the city above them. The fumes of a thousand ships and hundreds of foundries, hot forges and power plants. The heaviness in his lungs every time he took a breath, like a hand was pressing on his sternum. The tunnel was a breath of—

"How can we be lovers if we can't be friends?"

Nihall was singing now, fucking hell.

"How can we start over if the fighting never ends?

"How can we make love if we can't make ends?

"Tell me, how can we be lovers if we can't be friends?"

Adrian cringed at the sound of whatever the hell that was — some kind of torture masquerading as music. He wanted to bash his head on the wall as the words scorched his eardrums, but that would let the bastard win. Instead he shook his head like he'd taken a shot of whiskey.

Nye music really sucked.

He expected better from a center of wealth and learning, but Nye was more like a cruise ship. The people wanted dumb music, simple movies and chromium appliances. It was anti-human at this point. "Wow, riveting," he droned. "Almost drove me to tears."

He returned to his thoughts as the conversation moved to drugs and drinking, not his favorite topic in the world. He was a drinker but it was simply a means to an end, a way to pass the time and have fun. He wasn't interested in discussing what poisons he shoved down his throat, and drugs were another can of worms. He'd seen enough overdoses on the side of the road, vagrants who pissed away their lives for an escape.

It was nasty business he wasn't interested in dealing with, so he added nothing to the conversation. He was happy thinking about other things anyway, like how unfortunate his group was. That not a single woman was with them. He wished there were a couple with tight clothes he could—

He snapped from his thoughts when Faraji mentioned books. "What? A writer?"

Adrian cleared his throat. "It was a dark and stormy night, threshers killed my dog and played fetch with its femurs." He nodded at the end. "You know, I've been called a natural poet, won a contest when I was three years old."

He stopped in his tracks as a door came into view, like a bank vault locked in place with a lever. He watched the centurion waltz over and grab the handle with both hands, grunting as he pushed down.

"Need a hand?" Adrian said.

"It's right rusted!" Bean stepped back, panting. "Rotten like a syphiloids pecker!"

"You're demented," Adrian walked over and grabbed the lever, a metal bar connected to a complex series of deadbolts. With enough pressure, the lever would pull the bolts from place and open the door — but like the hydra, climbing mountains and writing books, it was more complicated than it seemed. The metal was fused by rust and wasn't moving at all.

"Hmm..." Adrian waved the others over. "Need help."

The group gathered around him, aside from anyone who abstained, and grabbed a section of the lever. They leaned into the bar and pulled back against it, digging their heals into the ground. The metal groaned and creaked, rust crackled and flaked from the door. The bolts inched sideways and then, in one fell swoop, the lever slammed to the side. The group tumbled over from the momentum, unless they were prepared in advance, and they watched as the door slowly swung open.

​

They were greeted by a town of two extremes, a slum covered the east while beautiful, glowing towers dotted the west. The cavern was big enough to fit entire battle fleets, skyscrapers and cities — a world unto its own. The streets were noisy even from the cliff where they stood, a quarter mile from town on a random, unassuming part of the wall. "Righto!" Bean walked down a staircase cut from the stone. The steps were steep and zig zagged back and forth, flanked by sheer drops to the cold, barren ground far below.

"In my most humblest, amazing opinion my minions, I think we should split up and survey the town, see what the mongrels have heard yeah?" He reached the bottom with his group in tow, unless someone fell of course (rip), and planted his hands on his hips. "Hmm..."

"How about you two with me yeah?" He pointed at two before looking at the rest. "While yous stay together!" He grinned even as the door shut above them, closing by itself with a loud thump. The sound of locking bolts drifted down from above, and if anyone cared to look, they would only see a rock wall where the door once stood.

Goliath Anne Boolean Lost Echo Arcanist

 

[EldridSmith]

Ivan chuckled at Elriel's query. "They are rare but do occur, I will say I'm surprised you missed the contestant practicing with his triceratops familiar... though you may have been in a different area at the time. In the north creatures from the time of job, ah pardon me, the ice age, appear more frequently as familiars for some reason. I for one am glad, it's nice having a natural coat of fur to keep me warm in the winters." He declared with a grin as Elriel turned to Zak and stated that the Tasmanian devil fit the boy, Ivan couldn't help but agree with roaring laughter. "Quite right indeed! The boy is equals the energy and conniving of the creature." He declared with a grin before popping a handful of semechki into his mouth as his hunger gnawed at him again, thankfully the snack was able to help maintain his muscular physique due to the surprising amount of calories within the seeds, and they served as a good energy booster. The taste had admittedly grown on him quite a bit.

"Who needs a sword? Well it's the jack of all weapons young rascal, good at cutting, thrusting, and bludgeoning as needed, not as long as a spear but longer than a dagger, and there's great variance in sword designs so there's always one that can fit you." Ivan remarked with a grin. "As for daggers being quicker, that's not entirely true..." Ivan remarked as he used some dirt to form a dummy to explain as he handed his sword to it with Mav's permission. "Thank you Mav, don't worry I won't encroach anywhere near a ton." Ivan returned his focus to Zak as the dummy's "muscles" were exposed to show the human body and it engaged it's core to twist the blade in an arc achieving great angular momentum. Ivan then handed the dummy a dagger and showed how the tip of the blade was moving quickly. "Both the knife and sword are quick in their own rights, but longer weapons have more leverage as you can gain more momentum and keep the larger opponent at reach, though the best weapon oftne depends on the size of the room you have to fight." He explained.

"My uncle studied a good deal of science and explained that the longer the weapon the faster the tip is moving and the more force there is behind it. Though each weapon has it's own pros and cons, I prefer the sword for having the most versatility, less reach than a spear, not as nimble as a dagger, nor as powerful as an axe, but overall can outperform the others due to it's versatility. Aside you can always choke up on the blade for more control. Though for wars it was a sidearm as the spear and lance are the king of battle because reach is king and quick stabs with a spear are very effective against unskilled opponents or in formation. Never forget shorter reach means shorter lifespans usually as your opponent can reach you before you can reach them." He explains happy to explain the merits of various melee weapons, having trained with almost all of them enough to use them if he was down his main weapons. "Still that's enough of the designs, I'm sure you'd much rather be fighting the clay dummy than listening to me." He said with a smile. The rest of the group seemed to be caught up in their own conversations some of which included Zak, leaving Ivan to wait.
Jet Goliath Emphoa ManofManyRoles

 

[EldridSmith]

Baryn glared at the bastard from the north but did nothing and said nothing further to him as he stayed ready to defend himself. Tessia's chatter melded into the background before the drunken man left of his own volition, one less headache to deal with at least. Tessia took back her flask and cube after the man stormed off leaving him with the group of women. Tessia went on the ways they tried cracking it, which admittedly made him more curious of the cube, though it wasn't at the forefront of his mind as he was offered condolences for his friends. "Thank you." He said solemnly, forcing a weak smile before nodding that revenge would help... at least ideally.

After his shouting match with the northern barbarian Brynwyr seemed relieved with his self imposed exile. "I apologize, again, for losing my temper. I'll try to avoid doing so again." He stated after her remark about airing out peoples feelings. The attention soon returned to the cube but he decided to examine the stoic knight more closely. As he looked he realized was quite a stunner as well, not saying the others were unattractive but the researcher was too nerdy for his taste, Tessia was attractive but mildly narcissistic, the redhead was attractive but dressed like a hooker, leaving the stoic knight as the most attractive in his opinion. As his thoughts started to drift he remembered Kiran telling him about Shah's past rebounds before he had settled with his fellow band member. Now wasn't the time to think of romance to try and fill the void his friends left in their passing, it would be doing them both a disservice. This dispelled his thoughts on the subject returning his attention to the group.

The redhead who approached was more optimistic than he about the drunk's usefulness, before cracking a joke to lighten the mood, which he appreciated though it reminded him of Shah, the group leader and jokester of the group. He could see the curiosity in her eyes, they sparkled, his used to, but now they were muted and filled with anger and sadness dulling his eyes to embers. Her attractiveness quickly diminished after she merged with her familiar. He wasn't a huge fan of bugs, but he could stand them. The girl went on to say she was a bit of a thief as she introduced herself. "I'm Baryn, and it will be good to have someone with nimble fingers for traps." He remarked before looking at the hairpin. "That explains why it looks like a familiar design..." He thought aloud. Esther commented on the pin being lovely before introducing the group to her familiar, a little know bird that was vibrantly colored and quite pretty. He wanted to comment on it but decided against it, though his eyes did betray his interest in the animal.
Jet Arcanist Lost Echo Monbon ZackStop

 

[EldridSmith]

Zulan finished adjusting his transformation with the help of his familiar, looked like a beggar, the only distinguishing features were his orange eyes and general face structure, it would be hard to recognize him as the fighter from the games as he his grab exoskeleton had been made to look like he had boils and disease. Aside his fights had been quick. He had admittedly grown tired of Kilderkin's unnaturally optimistic facade, it was clear to him, no one was this chipper in a sticky situation unless they were crazy... though that option wasn't off the table either. He looked to Kwame who responded to him in their language and nodded in response. He had a good deal of trust in is his fellow African.

Zulan watched the execution from on high, another culture stained with blood from oppression, though theirs full of malice and hate. He was the price to pay for his villages surrender, but these people were given no quarter and made slaves of Nye. He admittedly wanted to support them, but this wasn't a peaceful revolution, but one of blood and wrath. Supporting such a cause wouldn't do anything to wash his sins away, instead he would merely be covered in more blood. "So the cycle of violence continues once more... the sins of man continue to grow... to once again damn the next generation." Zulan thought aloud with pensive eyes and a mournful tone. "Kwame, will your rage cloud your judgement now? I mourn their deaths and hate the evil going on before us but tell me truthfully, can you keep your thoughts clear to avoid furthering the cycle of revenge and endangering those of us present?" He inquired with a saged tone having seen and been apart of such scenes, seeing far more than any many should in one lifetime.

In the meantime Renn clung to Charlie, and while he wanted to comfort the girl in some way, and he could tell from her voice she was lying about being fine, but he hadn't the heart or time to call her out or tell her that there were fates worse than death here. As it stood, he was in the act of ensuring the survival of as many present as he could came first as he stared at Kwame to evaluate the centurion's mental ability to lead after such an event. Charlie then proceeded to call Kilderkin on her act and the fact it was stupid, which as far as Zulan was concerned she was entirely on point with that. Charlie then pointed out the likely leaders and issues with rooftop travel. "I agree, the rooftops are too dangerous for a too many reasons. The ground is safer as long as we blend in." Zulan declared as he kept his eyes on Kwame, evaluating the man patiently. While he trusted him, he wouldn't keep his trust placed on him should his emotions overcome him.

"Charlie you seem to know more about factions, it may be best to get information on the gangs and people of note here to help blend in from the captain here, since this sort of thing seems to be your specialty. And you're right Evaline, we all need to hide ourselves. As for disguises I can help some but my default is beggar as few people pay attention to them." He said as he hoped Charlie's expertise would help here, and as he agreed with Evaline that everyone needed disguises. He was hoping that the officer would bring back useful clothes and materials but if not scraps of cloth would be enough to work with to sew together a beggar's rags.
Fred Colon rozukitsune ManofManyRoles Emphoa Jet

 

[Lost Echo]

"God damn it.” Captain Hydraline cursed as she saw the stage being built. “Where is his partner? Do they have him too?” Turning to a subordinate, she growled, “Get me his name and where his partner is. From now on, pairs double up. No one goes out without at least three others.” Obviously pairs weren’t enough.

“What is this hell?”

“Xysma.” The captain stated with a straight face. “As you can see, we have much more to focus on.” She left out the word ‘important’ but it was heavily implied. “The guide should be here soon, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with my men.” This would be a morale hit, but she needed them to keep it together. With a nod, she turned, leaving the war room.

It was barely a minute after the captain had left that the noise from below increased, the stench of smoke invading the room. A figure climbed through the opened window, obviously merged with her familiar: her eyes catching the light in the room and her ears and tail flickering. “Whew.” Shutting the window once more, she took a second to catch her breath.

Straightening, she looked over the group, her eyes widening in dismay at the assembled group. “You never make things easy, do you cuz?”

Shaking her head she bowed, sweeping an arm draped in brown fabric out. “Hello, I’m Gailene and I’ll be your guide through the current hell that is Xysma with a dash of Nye.” Dropping her load onto the table, she pulled one cloak out from the pile and held it up. “I expected you’d need something to blend in with. Some of you at least, good job you two.” She nodded to the shaggily clad man and the woman who looked like she was down to fight anything. They’d fit in fine. Even the Hydraline lookalike could be excused, though she’d be at risk if they really thought she was family. The other two… She glanced at Mr. Shiny. “I don’t think a cloak’ll be enough to hide that armor.” He was a big man. And obviously not the shadow type of Centurion. Why they sent him was beyond her. Could she convince him to lose it?

And Curls. She glanced at the young woman, then after a second asked, “You’re not really Renn right?” They wouldn’t send a celebrity like that to Xysma. At any time, let alone now. What was up with Nye? Who sent a lookalike like that? She hadn't heard reports of it yet, but as crazy as the men here were? Even she knew to be careful. Curls was doomed.

“Right. Well, if cloaks ain’t gonna cut it, then we’ll have to get you a bit rougher. I know someone who won’t send us to get our heads cut off too, so put these on for now and we’ll head there. He’s not far. Likely even working, which’ll do nicely. C’mon.” she turned to the door the captain had left through, opening it and starting down the hallway.

She was quick to turn down a side passage, the floor slanting noticeably downward. Soon she stopped at another window, “I didn’t think you guys could climb down from the tower. You’ll just have a jump here.” She opened the window, revealing the roar of the crowds and nimbly climbed onto the sill. Below there was a flat roof, like that of a factory, though the vents were silent now. Its workers in the streets. “You go first Mr. Shi-Centurion--I should have asked for names, huh.” Waving a hand to brush the thought off, she continued, “That way you can catch the lady-ies.” Her cousin would kill her if she dropped Curls.

Fred Colon Jet rozukitsune ManofManyRoles Emphoa EldridSmith

 

[ZackStop]

Ilana closed herself off to anymore conversation with the other crewmates, they just didn't get her and she wasn't the type to talk about herself. Seemed most of them understood that and decided to leave her out of the small talk. This gave her more time to keep her head clear but that off feeling she had about this place they were hovering over never really left.

She managed to overhear Rat's little sliver of his past over all the chatter, garnering a small bit of sympathy and equal footing. She too found herself on the street from a young age after being plopped there in the outlands. It was tough living that way but was lucky to have found a way out. It was the past however and she didn't care to relive it, and so shook off those feelings. It wasn't enough to excuse the out of turn criticisms and certainly wasn't enough to want to join their drinking games.

Upon receiving the offer from the farm boy, Ilana just gave him a little side eye before staring off into space again. "As if..." She said to herself as they all retreated below deck. Ilana found it peculiar that he'd even ask. Could he not read the room? But beside that, she felt their banter was out of place going into this awful land. Throwing drinks into the mix just felt like a bad idea to her, like they weren't taking this serious at all, but it wasn't her neck on the line if they stumble off a cliff in a drunken stupor. Not exactly the most optimistic silver lining, so she let out a sigh.

Besides that, she was trying to keep a clear head going into this not get drunk before landing. She'd happily detach herself from the others if it meant she could focus. Ilana was only so quiet because of that, always focused. Though, it came with a fair bit of doubt. She was plagued, questioning if coming here was even the right decision. That was on her mind from the moment she stepped on the ship. It made her sick thinking about No man's land, but coming here made her down right nauseous.

Every ounce of doubt she had was trying to overtake her vision for a better world. That's what she longed for and made it her very goal. She could hardly remember a time that she wasn't dead set on that. It was her life. It was her drive. She had to become a centurion first, and how fitting that coming here would let her achieve that. Finding success in facing adversity head on and overcoming it only felt right, but that running that idea through her mind didn't make it any less difficult.

Jet Emphoa Goliath Fred Colon

 

[ZackStop]

Ren continued the search, checking dead bodies for crudely sketched out letters. No numbers or other surprises, just a bunch of letters. "Oh!" Ren had a sudden epiphany before jogging over to his bag and rummaging through it. Before long, Ren had provided a little note pad and a pen, quickly flipping through little notes and mockup blueprints for projects before finding an empty page to write on. He jotted down every letter they had found so far and the ones they were soon to find.

Phalanx sat there and watches his human jog back and forth in the room to get all the letters documented. As Ren did so however, he wondered how the detective was slower to this than them. It was starting to feel like they were doing his job for him, not like he really minded. Ren got to feel like he was on a cop show, putting together a puzzle like they were a group of specialists. Not a cop or a detective, but a person with a special gift or perspective that helps them bust the criminals. After the events at the arena though, the boy felt that outcome to be out of reach. Seeing so many dead again made him wonder if the culprit or culprits were of equal skill. They still haven't found any leads on the attack in Nye either. He looked at the door, wondering how Ava was doing. She must have been reliving some horrors he'd rather not know, but thanks to Anya, he reassured himself that they would be alright.

Clearly someone who can do all this would be hard to catch up to. He hoped that these letters would point to a lead, he hoped these killers were confident enough to leave behind a clue. That's usually how they get them in the movies.

After some time passed of meticulous searching, eventually Johan announced that all the letters have been found. Ren agreed with him as he too was coming up with nothing else. But he had to wonder... "Am I strange?" Ren thought to himself, questioning what Johan said about teenagers. It wasn't important enough to give it much more thought, instead walking over to Johan and Narzas' general area. He listened as Johan went on about outlandish theories, all about donuts. "Eh-" Was all Ren could utter as he went on. Even making a donut with his light magic, sprinkles and all. Ren wondered what he had done.

Johan eventually got to the point, assuring the young man that the joke wasn't so out of place, which was good because he was starting to feel bad about it. He never imagined he would be around so much death in his life, and it seemed to be surrounding him all at once. He's done well holding it together so far though.

Ren looked down at his notes, writing down 'Dont' 'Shut' 'Trim' and a few words he found himself, 'Not' 'Do' 'In' but finding the correct order and figuring out how many words it was was the tricky part. "Strut- not- errr- midh... yeah, that makes no sense." he said before giving out a little chuckle and trying again. He tried two words, three words, then two words again, only making gibberish. But then he saw it, shifting his eyes back and forth on the page, one letter to another. "Hold on..." He started scribbling away on the paper before holding it at a distance, making sure he used every letter. "Guys, I think I found it." He said, showing the two the paper and pointing to it's center.

'Don't trust him.'​

Jet rozukitsune Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[rozukitsune]

Narzas continued checking the bodies anyway just in case they'd missed something even after Johan announced the last of the letters were found. When he began clowning around though, she couldn't help but glance up and smile at him, her eyebrows twitching near one another on her brow as the corners of her eyes crinkled. She managed not to laugh, if only because she felt doing so would be in poor taste considering all the dead and also she was still mostly in serious-investigator mode.

She may have gone on smiling at him like an idiot, but thankfully Ren came to the rescue with his deciphering of the clue - such as it was. Her smile faded as her customary frown reasserted itself.

"Him?" She asked, tired of all the subterfuge. "Well that's Lucia off my list of suspects." She sighs, running a hand through the long strips of hair that consistently wound their way out of her scrunchies. "What is it like... 50% of the world's population we have to look out for?"

She gives both Ren and Johan a wide-eyed look that is all act - she's not even trying to hide the sarcasm. "Is it one of you?!" She drops said act pretty quick so that no one in the room thinks she's seriously pointing fingers at them.

"Super helpful clue." She reiterates, then turns back to follow Johan since he was in charge here with a shake of her long ponytailed head. "Honestly, why bother..."

@ Jet ZackStop @ Lost Echo @ Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[Jet]

The warrior sneered at the one who stood before him, a child he would crush underfoot. Her presence was a blight and she couldn't — or wouldn't understand no matter what he said. The outsiders had no respect for their laws, how the ruins were hollowed ground where none could live. Yet blood couldn't be spilled there. Isaac had found a smarmy loophole for his people to survive there, and now he protected a centurion's whore. He let outsiders in like water over a dam, and none would take responsibility.

If laws were to be broken no matter what happened, it was better to spill blood and preserve the other laws. His ancestral honor demanded it be, so he leaned over the girl and his familiar sparked with energy. It merged with him and together, with air crackling around him, his skin became the surface of a sun. "If you speak the truth," he whispered to her. "Then you will not leave at all."

His skin erupted with little sun spots, trails of plasma looped around him like snakes. His eyes burned with fire so white, it looked like the heart of a raging blizzard. "That is the cost of your disrespect, your transgressions against us."

"Do you know the covenant of Acadia, Isaac?" The ground cracked below his feet. "None shall go there, none shall prosper. May the ground be salted and ruins crumble. May our pain fade into the sands."

"You've made it a mockery."

Isaac walked over to the warrior. His eyes narrowed as the man filled his palm with white fire, looming over the girl like a mountain.

"Please," Isaac said. "Where's the honor in killing her? Where's the glory? Do not succumb to the darkness inside you."

"Instead," Isaac continued. "Let's settle this in the old way."

"You would duel me?" The warrior smirked. "I couldn't ask for more."

"No." Isaac shook his head. "A meeting between us and the high priest. Let us come to an understanding, surely there's—

"The priest will side with me, old man." His gaze returned to the outsiders. "And when he does, I will immolate you both. Your screams will seranade the great journey — but for now."

"You shall live."

ManofManyRoles

 

[Goliath]

Elriel tilted his head slightly, not expecting someone from the West to know about governing structures — especially in such detail. But he kept that to himself. “Exactly. It works well for us. Though there are lots of thriving countries. All different. I implore you to travel if you have the chance.”

He looked over, shaking his head, almost surprised by how bold Zak was. Almost. Talking about how attractive women were in Valencia. Elriel had..never thought about it before, truthfully. Were they? He was distracted from his thoughts. “I don’t need to hear your little song,” he reiterated. Rolling his purple eyes. Not amused. The mop-headed male probably had no play, regardless.

Elriel was happy when the conversation shifted. And that Mavior agreed. Familiars were often reflective of a person in one way or another. He’d read many studies on it. Maybe not apparent to the onlooker and only internally. Maybe not for some grand reason.

But not everyone held his same sentiment, and he wasn’t here to change any minds. Scoffing at Zak as he described himself as smart. And Ivan chimed in as well.

“I must have missed that, indeed. I never saw anything resembling a triceratops. Next, you will tell me there was a pterodactyl flying around?” He mused, tilting his head curiously. Feeling like he would have seen a creature millions of years old walking around. And he never missed a fight being broadcasted in the training room, either.

The Nobel found himself missing Ada as he glanced at the kitchen door for just a moment. But was pulled back in, intrigued by the question of what Macragge was like. Chuckling behind his hand as Mavior listed off governments based on Zak’s personality. Waiting for an answer. Though doubtful, it would be anything of substance.

As the training lesson with the dummy of earth occurred, he allowed himself to return to his thoughts. He had been trained by a centurion, after all. It felt unnecessary, and he did not agree.

And, of course, those thoughts were filled with their friend. Pardus, his snow leopard, stood and jumped off the bunk where they had been sitting, walking into the kitchen to rub against Adamaris’s leg. Not that Elriel could see that. He just smiled, knowing his familiar was going to check on them.

He sighed turning back to his group, running a hand through his hair. “Mavior I would stand back if Zak intends to fight the dummy. Though if asked my opinion. I feel as if this isn’t the right place for such things.”

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

 

[Goliath]

Goliath had forgotten those two had competed together. Laughing to himself as he waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, your match. Don’t worry. You at least looked good. That’s something.” He spoke, surprised it was staged, but it also made sense as he thought about Nyaall’s situation.

He was long since completely tuned out from any monster talk. Only random comments brought his attention back. Like Faraji had a decent thought with the book idea. More of an encyclopedia, maybe? And Goliath did smirk at the mental image of Adrian covered in glitter.

“Such a poet,” he responded sarcastically to the terrible attempt at storytelling. He also noticed Faraji’s pretty heavy staring, but he would never complain about such a thing. Nor would he call it out. Not yet, at least. Though maybe if they had a moment alone?

He was quickly distracted. The cat-boys voice sounded good better than their centurion. Sure. But all elements of surprise flew out of the window from the loud song.

Goliath’s red eyes widened as sparks of electricity bounced between his fingers. Put on edge, ready for some attack. But as they continued, nothing came, so he relaxed again slightly. Listening to Adrian berate him. ”It wasn’t that bad.” Goliath wasn’t surprised. The redhead seemed like the type to hate music.

He glanced over at the intoxicated male. Goliath didn’t answer if he thought a piercing would look good on him. Because, of course it would. Instead, his brain went to a location. “Belly button,” Goliath shrugged. It would fit Nyaall pretty well, in his opinion. And then looked a Faraji as he gave the warning. Unable to keep himself from wondering about his many piercings.

As the girl and Faraji, both, said not to risk doing any drugs, he nodded. Goliath wouldn’t give any more details about them despite the questioning. Nor would he help him find the ones that weren’t poison, following Faraji, who he assumed could also do so by his half-ass answer. Goliath felt he’d done enough, even listing the more popular ones.

He frowned slightly at the answer to the male's drunkenness. Not taking it for truth, but his face quickly fell back to stoic. “You can have fun without being drunk. And then you’ll actually remember the good times,” Goliath reminded before turning forward again.

He gaped slightly at the compliment, chuckling quietly as he shook his head. Faraji was indeed an attractive man. He couldn’t blame the young girl. Though those thoughts were typically kept to one’s self

Especially with an 18-year age gap. And an 8-year age gap with Nyaall. Goliath was seeing a trend. Possible father issues? He didn’t get a chance to poke.

He stared at the massive door, the centurion unable to move it. And then Adrian walked over to help. Though Bean’s comment made him wrinkle his nose in disgust. Goliath walked over as Adrian asked for help; he might as well put his muscles to use.

And then he tumbled forward as it opened, dusting himself off as he slowly stood. “Clearly this route isn’t used much,” he grumbled, under his breath. Luckily he hadn’t crushed one of the smaller members of their team.

Goliath glanced between the two cities as they moved down the stairs, he didn’t like to be called a minion, but he also didn’t want to risk fighting with Bean, so he kept quiet. Nodding at his group assignment, glad he wasn’t with the child. And Nyaall would be safer with Bean. Probably.

Goliath looked up when he heard to thump, the moving metal, but was more surprised by the missing door. He moved next to Adrian and Faraji, ready to go. “Well let’s do this then,” he spoke, turning in the direction of the slums before looking back. “And take your shrimp!” Goliath pointed to his shoulder for what felt like the umpteenth time.

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

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Yua Smith
ユア・スミス
It was an unfortunate truth, that while gold was one of the hardest metals to melt, it was a very soft metal...and easy to bend and mold. So when the warrior before her merged with his familiar in a terrifying display of power, Yua's facade cracked and crumbled as she had to do everything in her power not to hyperventilate. They could leave. They could leave and never come back, it'd be that easy. She could beg her pardon and swear never to return. But then what sort of woman was she? Granted she'd never this close to near death or anything of that nature, usually her enemies were more subtle in their approaches to undo her in this way or that. As the warrior skulked forward, Yua found herself taking a step back or two.

She was grateful Isaac had his two cents to offer, but she'd lost her voice, the only thing she could manage was a slight tremble of the lip and stare gawking at this specter of flaming age. She was going to die. Not only that, but she'd come here to help people who could use it, she'd come here to refine her skill set...she was here on humanitarian efforts, and now she was at risk of being flambéed and skewered! There was a sound...a man clearing his voice and then-

"I should beg your pardon, Miss Smith, but if I may?" The butler had taken a step forward, ever so slightly, when Yua stepped back...not towards the warrior, but between him and the youthful and pale blonde. "If you will truly seek to kill us, then I have no doubt I cannot stop you nor deter you, sir. However, if I may ask of something of you, before that moment should come, whenever it may be. If and when your priest sides with you on this matter. May we know what laws we violate, what transgressions we commit, by our presence here? Our list of charges, and what we shame by being here, and if they are only something that can be settled with our lives. Is it because we are within the settlement, and that alone? I am not so bold as to presume I know everything. But if you are to kill us, if you should have your way, may I at least know why I am to die?" As ever, Felix's tone was calm and professional, attempting to lack any and all confrontation...for all intents and purposes, he recognized a power greater than he and had made peace with his god.

Yua gawked at the butler before her. He wasn't trying to parlay for their lives, he wasn't trying to reason with him. No, Felix had already accepted they were going to die and all he wanted to know was the why they were going to die!? They were corpses as Felix was concerned, and his only dying wish was to know his list of charges!? Surely there must have been a rationale behind his actions, but Yua couldn't fathom what it may have been at that moment.

​

Jet

 

[Lost Echo]

As always, Nyaal’s singing bolstered her. The power ballad lit a fire inside of Vivian, making her walk straighter, her ears high. They could do this. They’d make it through this. Maybe even figure out something about these dead centurions.

Even after he’d stopped the verse, Vivian felt more like herself in ages. She was smart. She might not be strong, but she’d done a good job tricking the judges and everyone else in their fight. As Nihal told the others about their ploy, she added, “I’d take brains over brawn any day.”

Reality edged back in when Nihal couldn’t answer the brute’s question. The whole week, since when he met her parents probably still counted. But he wasn’t going to stop. Even though Goliath pointed out remembering the fun. Well, at least he couldn’t get alcohol while they were out. It probably wasn’t even safe to drink the water, nevermind trying any of the drugs.

She blushed and swatted at Nihal’s elbow nudge. She was grateful he didn’t actually say anything though, and Faraji was nice enough to not make a big deal out of it. She’d hate to have to explain that she thought he was pretty enough to be kidnapped. That’d just be a bit too much.

Then they were at the end. Vivian held back as the men strained at the lever. It’d already been discussed that she was weak. She did not need to be in the way just to prove herself. As it refused to move, she opened her mouth suggesting, “Maybe Faraji’s ice--” but then, with a thud that ended up landing with the brute on the floor--he’d likely have hurt her if she’d tried.

Vixie would like it known that she couldn’t fly. Keeping one hand on the wall beside her, she tried not to look anywhere but at the next step as she made her way down. She was probably going too slow for some of them, but she didn’t make them wait as they gathered at the base. She looked back up as the doors closed, wondering how they were going to leave.

Why was she unsurprised that the maniac chose her? At least she was with Nihal, instead of Goliath who’d complain the whole time. Maybe they would be safer. Especially as the trio headed toward the slums. The glittering towers had to be safer. Right?

Anne Boolean Arcanist Jet Goliath

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Ava Marco
interaction: Jet Lost Echo​

"yeah... yeah... your right.." she'd let out a mumbled huff of words, just staring down at the other girl, letting go of her once she'd seemed to have spotted something? ava wasn't sure what it was... but maybe it was important least she was feeling better now. "ok ok.." she'd let herself get pulled along despite the fact she was a lot bigger and heavier she was just allowing herself to get pulled along. "yeah yeah... better to just.. focus.. on the investigation you know?" she'd manage to mumble out not really paying too much attention to the other girls action at the moment only to be snapped out of the stupor by the singing of the old man making her shake her head with confusion. "i uh.. yeah... questions right?? yeah.. questions"

 

[Lost Echo]

Anya had never seen anything like this. Could fear really turn people into this? It was as if the people boiled. Their pain and fear so great they were writhing on top of each other like a pail of worms. Those bodies were still unnaturally stiff. They hadn’t started to swell like the one she’d run across behind a lab. There were no maggots eating the soft parts. No, these people had probably seen their loved ones yesterday. If not this morning before work. Did they love their families more than she loved Hannah? Or was the target of Nye enough to keep her sane?

A woman screamed for her husband, her fingers digging into Anya’s breasts as she grabbed at her shirt. The pain was a surprise, enough to shift her from a limp ragdoll to struggling. But worst of all were the woman’s eyes, practically frothing for answers. Was this a mistake?

Her shirt ripped slightly as an officer pried them apart. She watched with a wince as another man was beaten with the end of a spear, falling back into the crowd which seemed to swallow him. But they hadn’t cared about her humanity. She pressed back against the sure wall that was Ava, grateful the woman had come with her. This was--something was wrong.

Her eyes were quick to follow the only sound that made sense: a banjo across the street. If she was taller, she’d be able to see more of him. Instead she could just make out the dark shape. Mostly through the movements through the slow motioned crowd. She waited for him to speak, for his power was unlike anything she’d ever even heard of. The song grated at her nerves, not because of the words, but the longer it went on the worse the crowd looked.

Still, pressed against Ava, she waited her turn. Then she answered, “Something different than what this crowd wants.” Not specific, but an answer which was followed by what she considered the more pressing question, “What are you doing?”

Jet Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[Jet]

The Vitrimose — group seven's ship​

The crew darted around lowering sails when the wind changed. They checked knots for tightness and swabbed the old wooden deck, and the captain was equally attentive. He slowly steered as wind rocked the cutter Vitrimose, and a lookout peered through a brass telescope. He scanned the horizon from his spot on the crow's nest, east to west with slow, practiced movements.

But then he stopped.

He leaned forward looking at the dense forest below them, watching trees shift through his looking glass. There was a shadow in the darkness but he couldn't tell what it was.

"Captain!" He shouted from above. "Treeline, starboard side!"

The captain peered over the side. "But a forest monster my boy, has no business with those in the sky."

"Oh?" Tessia rushed over and bumped the railing, leaning overboard as she said, "What the hell is that?" Her eyes shimmered as trees were tossed in the air. "It's flingin' trees like tissue paper!"

"Your guess beats mine," the captain said. "Can't remember the last time my feet touched land."

"You're no fun!" Tessia waved her group over. "Come check this out! It's awesome!"

Her heart raced as more trees were tossed from the canopy. "I'm gonna kill that thing if it's the last thing I do; would make such a good story for the papers!"

The captain grunted out a laugh. "I don't doubt you for a second." He returned to the wheel as the lookout watched the beast, following with his telescope until it went below the ship. "It's under us captain!"

He cleared a lump from his throat. "Captain!"

"What!"

"It's below us!"

"What about forest monster is hard for you to understand boy? It can't reach us up here, so unbunch your knickers and keep looking for ships. Lord knows what the locals will send our way."

The lookout bit his tongue and watched the horizon for ships; he knew better than to argue with the captain. He'd only been sailing for three years and despite his hard work, he knew nothing in comparison. "But what if it throws a tree at us," he whispered below his breath, scoffing as he ruffled his blonde hair. He chewed his cheek and then looked down at the forest once more. But he saw nothing this time.

"Where are you," he mumbled. "I know you're out there."

His eyes were trained on the trees. The endless sprawl where something lurked in the shadows. "Where are you?"

"I know you're following us."

"I follow the key," came a voice in his ear. "To our salvation."

He spun around but nobody was behind him. "W-Who are you?" He stammered. "What do you want?"

"A guide — an end to the dream."

"I'm going crazy." He clutched his head with both hands, running them through his blonde hair. "I'm going fucking crazy."

"No," said the voice in his ear. "I will show you."

"Show me... what?"

"The path I will guide them on — but not you."

He saw an image in his head, a leviathan snake bigger than a building. It was a hundred feet long and wider than a steam engine. Its scales glimmered green and its fangs were long and curved, dripping with acidic venom. It wrapped around the Vitrimose and within its crushing grasp, the ship became sand on the wind.

His heart raced at the vision. His face trembled and leaned over the crow's nest, screaming out to warn his crew.

"CAPTAIN! IT'S COMING FOR US!!"

"IT'S GOING TO KILL US ALL!"

The crew went silent and stared in disbelief, but then the ship trembled below them.

"IT'S COMING NOW! WE NEED TO—

There was a violent shudder and then, like a volcano erupting under them, the snake punched through the hull and exploded from the deck. It speared upwards snapping sailors its maw, snuffing their screams as the ship moaned in pain. Its beams creaked and snapped like the sound of falling trees, steel groaned like a submarine crushed below the waves, rivets popped from their holes with loud metallic pings. The engines whined and then exploded in balls of white fire, bursting from the deck in superheated plumes. The sails were set ablaze and the ship listed to its side.

The captain stammered and backed away from the monster, watching it rise from the deck like a tower. Its muscles writhed with the power of a primordial given form. The wrath of old Kratoria.

It twirled through the air and coiled back to face the ship, sending chills through him when it roared.

"Abandon... abandon ship," he whispered as the monster punched through the bow, ripping wood like tissue paper. He wanted to do something but he was a helpless, weak man, he could only watch the snake enter the ship like a parasitic worm, ripping it apart from the inside.

The bow snapped from the ship with the crackling of splintered beams, leaving a wound of ruined boards and flaming wreckage. The smell of smoke and the sound of screaming men. The ship tilted backwards and like a meteor hurtling from space, it started falling to the ground. It slowly disintegrated as fire streaked from her wounds, leaving trails of orange against the clear morning sky.

And behind it was the beast.

Tessia was sprawled on the deck and felt heavier than normal, each breath was laborious and slow. Her mouth twisted in pain as she pressed a hand against her stomach, feeling the warmth of blood on her skin.

"What we say to death." She crawled to the side with blood trailing behind her, grunting as she grabbed the rail. "Not today," she leaned overboard and dropped from the doomed ship, falling away as the snake wrapped around it like a kraken.

"Not today," she whispered again, watching as the ship was consumed by writhing scales. The sun hovered behind the monster as it roared to the heavens, casting an orange halo around its black silhouette.

The screams of her comrades reached her ears, but this was no time to be selfless. Tessia needed to survive the fall. Her element was water and her familiar was an ocelot; there wasn't much to work with in that regard. Her mind raced with ideas as the ground grew closer with every second, wind rushed past her ears and she held out her arms like wings.

"Please work." Tessia closed her eyes and gathered water around her arms, forming solid constructs shaped like wings. They worked well enough to slow down her fall, landing hard as pain lanced through her stomach. There she lay panting for a moment, coughing blood as she pushed to her knees. She looked down at her gushing wound — a shard of wood from when the snake speared the ship. It throbbed in rhythm with her heartbeat, and each one hurt more than the last.

"One pull, dont be a coward." Tessia grabbed the splinter with both hands and pulled hard, dragging it from her flesh with the sound of tearing skin. The plopping of blood and ragged breaths. "Hnggg," she groaned as the splinter came loose.

"Hah!" She leaned forward and pressed her head against the ground. There were stars in her dim vision. "Too—

"Too easy." Tessia ripped off her soaked shirt and looked down at the damage, a wretched sight of pooling blood and bruised skin.

"Here goes," she covered the wound in a layer of cold water, a second skin to contain the blood for now. It wasn't perfect but it would stop her from bleeding out. "Better," she said, slowly standing from the ground.

"Now for the rest of these idiots." Tessia stumbled through the brush shouting names she remembered, anyone from her group mainly. Her voice warbled with pain but she was loud enough to hear, if any of them were close by that was.

Arcanist EldridSmith Lost Echo ZackStop Monbon

 

[Fred Colon]

Fransisco Escarra. She certainly hadn't been expecting him, but it wasn't surprising. She remembered when he'd been arrested, and hearing he'd been sent here. He'd always had a way with words. If anyone was going to stir up this mob it would be him. She only hoped that she had never made herself noticeable enough for him to recognize. Either way, disguises were going to be important here. If all went well, she wouldn't need to face Escarra at all.

When Escarra had the guard executed, Kilderkin pretended to flinch and look away. What a spectacle. Kilderkin didn't really like this type of thing, but she suppose she understood why he was doing it. It was an effective way to send a message, and an effective way to help whip his mob into a frenzy. Kilderkin thought Escarra would have done it even if it hadn't accomplished those goals. He'd always liked a spectacle, from what she remembered. Maybe they could use that against him.

The disguise was going to have to drop, soon. When metal started hitting meat, she wouldn't be able to play nice anymore. She'd need to pull out all the stops, and that wasn't going to reconcile well with the act. But for now, she kept her dumb smile on her face. She stared at Charlie, and rather than answering, just cocked her head. Like a dog hearing a sound it didn't understand.

When the guide arrived, the others began talking about the disguises and jumping from rooftop to rooftop and the merits of having Kwame around. Kilderkin focused on the dumbest thing she could.

"Ooooh. Disguises. Can I have, like, a big fake beard?" Kilderkin asked the guide. "And my name is Kilderkin! Kwame! Evaline! Charlie! Zulan! Renn!" She pointed out each respective individual as the guide asked about names, and she couldn't deny that she did that in part because it had seemed to annoy Charlie the last time she had done it. Kilderkin moved to follow her, ready to drop down onto the roof when it was time to go.

Jet ManofManyRoles Emphoa rozukitsune Lost Echo EldridSmith

 

[Jet]

​

"Macragge macragge, best place on earth!" Zak tossed up his knife and when it fell past his face, he slapped the pommel directly on the back end, shooting it across the room. It snapped through the air with a whoosh of cutting wind, piercing deep into the dummy's head. He winked at Elriel with a shit eating grin, before facing the big speeching giant. "See," he said with the same smile.

"Faster." He unzipped his hoodie revealing a dozen knives strapped to his sides. There were bulges along his pants where more knives were hidden, and each had a stone worked in the pommel.

"Ain't nothing better my man." He pointed at the stone dummy, hovering twenty knives from their scabbards with earth magic. Then he snapped and stabbed the dummy from all directions at the same time, tearing it apart as the knives hit once, removed themselves and stabbed again and again, twisting and slicing until only pieces remained.

"Seems you think I'm weak, but macragge don't make weak runts." He grinned and snapped again, shooting his knives to their scabbards. "It's pure chaos down there," he said to Mavior. "Like riding a bull with vodka in one hand, fireworks in the other, cocaine in your nose n' the sherif chasin after ya. Maybe toss in a roo for good measure?"

He chuckled and kicked a few pebbles across the floor, clinking them against the wall. "I come from a town called Salvo, second biggest place in hell. Has pit fights and a chopping block in town square, an arena where the king fights challengers."

"Ain't no place like it in the world; you either do the fucking, work for fuckers or get fucked yourself." He shrugged like it was normal. "Way of the jungle mate."

He wasn't going to touch on his motivations though. They could think he was greedy scum for all he cared. He preferred it that way anyway. The tension in the air when he looked at the nobles, how they despised him for looting the dead. It would be a disaster if they knew his real reason why. The sympathy in their eyes as they pitied him like a leper — he would vomit up his lunch.

Instead he changed the topic as he perused the room once more, running his grubby hands over interesting bits. "You're a good sport Ivan," he said while examining the plants. "But ya spent too much time with scrubs."

"Ankle bitin ninnys in pretty metal suits, thinkin they're gonna pull a sword from a bloody stone." He looked back through swaying locks of brown hair, his eyes were sharp and focused. Those of an experienced soldier. "But I wasn't an assistant at those games mate," his smile widened by a hair. "I was a trainer."

—
​

The conversation continued until eventually, as the day grew long, the group saw land in the distance. The mighty fjords rising like the anvils of ancient gods. The sea crashed against them with the roar of rushing water, covering the shore in a haze of rolling mist. The wind howled as clouds darkened and covered the setting sun. Lightning crossed the sky and thunder boomed like cannons.

Darius rose from his bed and walked to the control room, he gave them instructions on exactly where to go, a port several miles away.

Zak was perched outside above the bridge, hugging himself as wind pierced his clothes. He shivered a little but the view was worth it. He gazed at a patchwork of grass peaking through layers of snow. The rolling hills and a town cresting over one of them, surrounded by stone walls dotted with small wooden towers. He saw torches light in sequence at different points along the perimeter, lookouts he was sure. "Oy!!!" He waved at the small towers. "We come in peace you twats!"

His voice was drowned out by heavy rain and thunder. He sighed and wiped water from his sopping wet brow, grunting as hail smacked his head. "Oh fuck off will you." He scowled at the sky. "That's petty even by your standards."

"In any case." He opened the hatch and dropped into the ship, shaking water from his hair like a dog. He told the crew about the torches and so, following their centurion's advice, they landed outside of town. From there they walked to the walls and Darius requested an audience with the lord.

"And I would like to meet Thor," a guard said. "Now fuck off, before I decorate a spike with hour head."

Darius stepped towards the wall. "Does Jarl Ericson still hold sway here?"

"Aye, what's it to you?

"Tell him I fought under Theseus."

The guards looked at each other and laughed, "Oh!" They wheezed with amusement. "You should tell him yourself!"

"So we're allowed entry?"

"No."

"Then how can I tell him?"

"Have you tried knocking?"

Darius scowled at the men as they laughed and laughed. His temper flared as stone surrounded his hand. He felt the urge to kill the arrogant men; backwater scum mocking him like a vagrant. "I'm a centurion," he said. "Do not test me."

"Then you're strong enough to knock loudly!"

"Stop fucking with me, how much do you want?"

"Hmm..." The guards muttered to each other on their dry, covered tower, relishing how the rain soaked their visitors. "What do you think Ivar?"

"Ten per head."

"You've no balls or brains, look at their clothes."

"Twenty?"

"Aye, twenty a head!"

Darius paid them with hatred in his eyes, tossing a coinpouch as he cursed below his breath. He still wanted to kill them of course, and maybe he would when the mission was over, but they needed to keep the peace for now. "Thanks," he growled as the gates opened with the sound of old hinges, revealing rows of stone houses with thatched roofs. They were surrounded by lines of hanging fish covered in salt rubs. The sound of a blacksmith filled the street as smoke bellowed from a shop.

The locals peered at them through small windows in their huts. The guards eyed them and tightened their hands around their axes, and the tavern quieted as they passed by. The road steepened as they neared a women in battle gear, broad shouldered and tall with strikingly pale hair. Her eyes flickered blue as lightning flashed above them. "Hail, outlander."

"We need seal skins," Darius said as he stopped beside her. "Who sells them."

"Were you raised in a fish hut?" Her mouth curled into a smile. "I thought we were the uncivilized ones?"

"We're pressed for time."

"There." She pointed at a small house surrounded by drying racks, each one had a skin stretched across it. "I'll make sure to charge you extra."

"What? That's your—

"Aye." She strolled to her house as the centurion groaned. "Here." He tossed another pouch to the nearest person.

"Grab us seal coats, we'll need them up here." He turned and took a step before stopping. "Ice picks too, and snowshoes."

"Maybe uhh... take an extra pair of hands with you." He waved them away and marched up the small rocky street, approaching a longhall made of logs strapped together, imported from the mainland at great cost. It was perched atop the hill and a dragon-head adorned the rooftop.

"No fucking around." Darius pushed the doors open and confidently stepped into the room, followed by his group of outsiders. There they saw a dozen men and women sitting around a long table, plates full of smoked meats and fresh fish. Their horns full of meade. They stopped talking as the group arranged themselves in the room, looking to a man at the table's head.

He was middle aged with broad shoulders and a long red beard, his hair was shaggy and a thorny crown was on his head. He slowly stood from his seat and slammed his drink on the table. "Outlanders!" He placed a hand on his sword. "What emboldens you to interrupt my meal?" He placed a hand on his sword. "Speak quickly."

Goliath Emphoa ManofManyRoles EldridSmith

 

[Jet]

"Answering questions with questions, thought I was the one asking em?" He strummed his banjo with the twang of high notes, tapping his foot to the beat. "Plans of mice and men, flippin like a coin before it lands. Never know what's gonna show do ya?"

"Ain't nobody knows a thing though, so what's new?" He blew a cloud of smoke and leaned back on his bucket. "Here I am watchin from the sidelines, wonderin to the heavens where your tale is gonna go."

"Wonderin if you'll find the stray cat your lookin for, crawlin through a lion's den with vultures all around you." He leaned forward and seemingly stretched through the crowd, looming over the women like a wall. He looked bigger than before. Like a long shadow cast at sunset. "They're circlin, waiting for you to die!"

He returned to normal a second later, casually picking his painted nails. They were decorated with rudimentary white skulls, little charms and animal spirits — wards against demonic foes.

"Here's the idea," he said. "Figured I'd leave a little crumb for you, might push you in the direction ya wanna go. All you gotta do is ask."

Lost Echo
Huntertabbysandshark3

​

"Don't look at me." Johan stepped back like Ren was a dangerous animal. "Must be him... oozes suspicion doesn't he?"

He planted his hands on his hips, tilting back his head and looking down on the boy. "Hmm....."

"No he's too damn innocent, never met anyone less guilty in my life." He smiled and breathed out through his nose, a small laugh that grew when Narzas roasted the clue. "You can always count on a psycho killer to leave cryptic bullshit."

"Every time I swear." He scaled the steps and stopped in the hallway, looking back at the others. "They always leave a damn cipher or riddle that means nothing, just to stick it to the police."

"But maybe." He was being serious this time. "It's about someone we haven't met yet? Or someone who'll stand out in the investigation?"

"Or we're being fucked with." He went down the narrow hallway, shrouded in darkness as glass crunched underfoot. He looked up and saw broken bulbs without any flash marks; it didn't make any sense. "What the hell..."

"It wasn't an electrical overload, so what happened to the lights?"

"This keeps getting weirder." He stopped at a pair of wooden doors, checking the lights for signs of sabotage, but there was nothing of note. "Never seen anything like this."

 

[Jet]

​

The warrior slowly turned his head like a creaking door, eyes burning through the butler and his fancy clean clothes. Hatred wafted from his skin like smoke from a raging fire, and his spear tilted forward by an inch. "You twist words like vines around a tree. Like a snake around its prey."

"The axe forgets but the tree remembers when it was cut. We carry five hundred years of memories, heavy on our backs like a boulder. We remember when your kind razed our lands and still, even now you ravage us like beasts!" He snarled at the man. "Your kind cannot be here, in the holiest of places! It is an affront!"

Isaac stepped forward and slammed his walking stick on the ground. "You are being rash! They are here to help! Please listen to reason, these are not representatives of Nye!"

"Who are you to say that?" The warrior swiveled around to face him. "You take their word like a gullible fool!"

"But no matter. You have already transgressed our laws by establishing this town, by your very presence here. We were forced to accept that Isaac, but now? After you protect her!" He glared at the mourning woman, tears fresh on her face. "And harbor them!"

His wrathful eyes returned to the outsiders. "Your crimes have come to a head, this is the straw that breaks our backs."

He brushed past onlookers with the roughness of a bull, shouldering any who dared impede him. Then he fluttered his wings with a cloud of whooshing dust, before flying away from the town.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." Isaac's head was heavy and low, his wrinkles creased with worry. "Listen here!" He said to the townsfolk. "Find whatever weapons you can, and have supplies ready in case we need to escape. I don't think they'll attack but we must be prepared."

There was a wave of muttering before the crowd dispersed, leaving only Isaac and his two guests from abroad.

ManofManyRoles

 

[ManofManyRoles]

𝓜𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓻 '𝓜𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴' 𝓑𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓻
Mavior watched silently as Zak gave his speech on the wonders of Macragge, all the while he worked to disassemble the dummy Ivan had erected. A clever means of combat, Zak was smarter than he portrayed. It'd be wise to keep him an ally rather than enemy, and be mindful of him. Mavior didn't expect any risk to his person by any regard, but being aware of his colleague's abilities was something he dedicated to memorizing in short order. He'd already had a chance to observe some of their combat techniques during the tournament...as far as he was aware, he was the only user of Air present, and Mavior had been certain to only show the bare minimum of his tactics in his bout, much like how he'd kept a point to keep his familiar hidden. Ivan's comment on extinct breeds of creatures being familiars didn't even earn a glance from the goggled teen. "I see. Anarchist society. Duly noted. It is...similar to some areas of the western hemisphere." A rather vague statement, and not one Mav elaborated on either. As Zak perused the plants in the planters, one of the snapping Devil's Mouth lashed out at him but came up short, slinking back away into the planter when it was evident it wasn't going to get a bite of the male.

As conversation wound down, and food was prepared by Ace and Ada for those who wanted something to eat, Mavior found himself back at the helm of the craft to man it. Energy hummed across old monitors, and monitors and gauges continued to monitor changes in the wind and air pressure. As land came into view up ahead, Mavior slowly flexed his fingers around the control wheel as the wind howled and the weather grew wrathful. A moment of focus as a nearby selection of switches were flicked with a soft click from each, a monitor blinking confirmation as he brought the craft lower and out of the potential threat of the storm. "You make a fine spotter," Mav commented offhandedly to Zak as he glanced over his shoulder towards him. A compliment? Sarcasm? A mere observation? As ever, unclear. Ace by now had retired to a bunk again, exhausted by her time in the kitchen and hobbling around as her stamina was much quicker to deplete given her damaged body.

As they came to a point to make port, Mavior was the last to leave the ship. A myriad of commands and archaic secrets were utilized at the main console, a moment to ensure his elder sibling was covered in a large blanket before hurrying out after the party. However, before finally joining them, one more control panel as the doorway sealed shut behind the group with a soft hiss, the faintest crackle of energy in the air before he was able to keep pace with them proper.

The interaction with the guards was...telling of who his Centurion was, to a degree. Someone who believed in force if he could get away with it, and another Earth user it'd seem. Fortunately, he wasn't near as much a brute as he may have liked, able to at least bribe their way inside. Inside the township, Mavior's head was on a swivel. It was habit, perhaps, to be hyperaware of potential threats in any environment he wasn't familiar with, a hand reaching up to tap at a goggle to ensure it was secure, a little adjustment of the black and opaque viewing-glass. His ears strained to pick up on any conversation he could grasp, head snapping to the side just in time to reach out and catch the coin purse. The grocery list was quickly and easily memorized, the pale teen weighing the coin pouch silently as he found himself staring at the sky...at least it was dark out. Maybe once night fell he'd be able to let his eyes breathe a bit more. "Ivan, Zak. Accompany me, if you would?" Without waiting for further input, agreement or disagreement, Mavior snapped open his satchel for just a moment to toss the coin purse inside. The leather bag shifted for just a moment as if he'd tossed it too hard, before he snapped the bag closed once again and started towards the shop. It was...refreshingly cold. It reminded him of home, almost...not near as damp, though, nor anywhere near as quiet.

​

Jet EldridSmith Goliath Emphoa

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Yua Smith
ユア・スミス
As the warrior turned his head on Felix, hatred in his eyes and violence in his tone, the butler remained unmoved. He knew in an outright fight he'd only have the slimmest possibility of success, but he wasn't about to be cowed so easily by a scowl and threats. Alas, his request for information had been summarily ignored, as the warrior was more interested in leveling threats and accusations in equal measure towards them. The only glimmer of knowledge he could garner from any of that, between the promises of death, was the hatred for Nye and whatever great calamity it had been responsible for being shared by others than just Isaac's people.

As the warrior departed, there was a raspy breath from Yua. She'd remained composed until now...but now that she was alone with only Felix and Isaac, she couldn't keep her composure any longer. She slowly hugged her arms around her midriff, the gila monster that had come to rest on her head scurrying over from one shoulder to the next, back and forth. Tremors wracked her body as her eyes were wide, her mind trying to process everything. "I'm...I'm just trying to help. All I wanted was to help. I've not even been here an hour...I-I at least expected to make it a day before anything, or anyone, in the west tried to kill me..." She could feel tears welling in her eyes as a nervous laugh escaped her. What was there to do beyond that? Cry, laugh in shock? Should she have begged for a chance to live? He killed a centurion by himself, he must've been a monster! "...Miss Smith. Do you desire to leave now, while you have a chance to do so?" There was the slightest sniffle then at the suggestion, watery eyes staring up at Felix, and then over towards Isaac, her inner conflict painted on her face. She could leave...she could try to leave now... "N-No. No, I'm going to stay. Isaac's people...this village needs some help more than ever, right? If something happens...they need someone who can help patch wounds or do a proper surgery. Many hands and light work, right Felix?..." She looked towards Isaac then, taking a shuddering breath as she continued to shake where she stood. Terrified for her very life, and rightfully so, but refusing to scamper off with her tail between her legs. "I...I can't fight. Morally, ethically, or physically. I'm...I'm a pacifist, but I'm a great doctor. I promise that's one thing I wouldn't fall short at. I'm willing to help you however I can. I just...I need more information. Anything, everything you're willing to tell us? And you have my word, since he seemed to insist on it...I'm not with Nye, I came here by myself. You....you can believe me, right sir? Or do I need to prove that to you somehow? Because I will...I've already brought enough trouble."

​

Jet

 

[ZackStop]

Ren got to thinking who 'him' could be, as he stuffed the pen and notepad into his back pocket. If it was someone they knew or maybe a significant figure to this city they had dropped into. It sounded like a job for the detective, but then again, they found the clue without him.

He looked up at Narzas as she made her theory, only to turn on them! "What? Me?" He pointed to himself, clueless of Narzas' sarcasm that he really didn't understand it. He just thought she was talking funny, not like they spoke often. "No way!" But then things only got worse for him, as now the charismatic leader, Johan joined in, stepping away from him like the boy had pulled a knife. "Eh?! What the heck, guys?!" He felt like he was being singled out, and even when the jokes were over, Ren let out a sigh.

The boy followed Johan's lead up the stairs but stopped before entering the hall, peering into it. The sight alone gave him the creeps, though he's seen worse, clearly. "Maybe they just broke them for fun." As much as he wanted to call out to Johan with a 'good luck in there.' to get them back for moments earlier, Ren followed him to the end of the hallway, responding to his statement. "Double doors? I see them all the time." He said, looking at the doors, waiting for someone to open them.

Jet rozukitsune Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3