Fantasy The Great Games of Nye

[Lost Echo]

Oh fuck. As the centurion spewed some proverb, Gailene was straightforward, “Run!” She too knew the centurion could likely kill them all in one fell swoop, but she’d grown up around these people. She’d volunteered to guide them because she wanted to keep Nye from sending their centurions to suppress the riots. Trusting Kwame to hold his shield, she tried to knock down their pursuers with large gusts of wind, but cruelly that didn’t stop the mob. They just stormed over the fallen bodies as if they were just debris to wade through.

She caught sight of Kwame pulling two of her charges into an alley, just before one of the apartment complexes collapsed. Immediately reacting, she raised her hands, seamlessly spreading the dust plume outward, further than it would have gone naturally as she picked up debris from the ground. She kept an air pocket for herself and the three she had left. She had to get them to safety before thinking about the others.

Gesturing forward, she led them to the right, down an alleyway. Still silent, she reached the end of the alleyway, then turned right once more, the grid system working for her. The mob could be heard, but as they made their way up the parallel street, they could see the fallen building, but none of the rioters. Ignoring it, she ran past, not even slowing as she reached a different alley. This time she stopped and pointed halfway in, the heat emitting from the room making their destination obvious.

The moment the first crossed into the heat a gruff voice was heard, “Who are you! Get out of here!” But Gailene just pushed the others through the door, shoving them closer to a man as broad as Kwame, his massive potbellied pig beside him. He stood, wielding a hot poker, and looked perfectly willing to teach them a lesson.

“It’s me Hams!” The silver haired girl ducked around the crowded three, waving, though her smile was fraught.

“No.” He looked no happier to see the likely familiar face, even as she came up to face him, dwarfed by his size.

“No listen-”

“I said no. I will not betray my people. Leave.” He started to turn away.

Grabbing at his arm, Gailene snapped, “I’m not asking you to!” Air started to pick up around her, lifting her hair. “You’re going to listen. We ain’t going anywhere! They ain’t here for the ri-rebellion. They’re here ‘cuz of the dead Cents from a week ago. No matter what, Nye was gonna investigate that. I just want to get them to the factory--it’s shut down, no one’s there to be hurt--and then outta here.”

When he stayed stoic, not looking at them, but not moving, she let go. Tugging at one of her ears, she continued. “Shit’s mad as hell out there, I don’t know what they’d do if they got one of them. They already beheaded one of our soldiers on a stage, like a play! But if Nye’s investigation fails because of the rebellion, who knows what Nye’ll do.”

There were a few moments of silence, the heat of the forge nearly audible in it. Then he turned once more. “What do you want.”

“A set of Em’s clothes for Curl-well, she got rid of her curls, so Miss Priss here,” she gestured at the shorts and tee-shirt wearing girl, not willing to use her name, “and ashes. We’re all way too clean.”

A grunt and the man turned and went through a back door, not bothering to voice an answer. Gailene didn’t need one. When the door closed behind him, the guide turned to the three and hissed, “Don’t mention Kwame. Got it?” It was all she could do to hope he was alive. If Nye did lose another centurion here, they were going to just wipe Xysma clean and start over. People were always committing crimes.

Not waiting for an answer, she went to the bucket where ashes were kept, used in the little gardening the population of Xysma managed. Dragging it in the room, she stepped back, “Go ahead and get a handful. Rub it around.” Doing so herself, she began to smudge up her face.

rozukitsune ManofManyRoles EldridSmith

 

[Fred Colon]

Kilderkin maintained her air of oblivious good humor even in the face of a few of her companion's increasing annoyance. She wondered if Charlie was going to try and hit her. It might be interesting to see, but she seemed skilled, so if Kilderkin was able to dodge her punch, something she might not be able to do depending on Charlie's combat ability, it would further undermine her facade. Though perhaps that didn't matter. She had a feeling the facade was going to drop soon anyway.

When Renn started burning her hair off, Kilderkin's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. Perhaps the other woman was doing worse than she'd thought. But there was nothing to do about that right now, really.

She mimicked Zulan, rubbing dirt all over her face and clothes. Her ornate cutlass and scabbard might pose a problem, but that could be hidden, hopefully, with a little ingenuity.

"Hey! I can be quiet!" Kilderkin exclaimed to Hydraline's admonishment. And then, "Heck nah. I'm raring to go!" At Kwame's offer to retreat. She wasn't surprised to see that no one else was interested in retreating. Even Renn seemed ready to go in a crazed, hair-burning way.

But, naturally, as the universe seemed to enjoy playing little tricks like this, they were immediately faced with Escarra himself the moment they began to move across the city.

She pulled her hood up around her head, and immediately began to draw the water in her cheeks away and into her nose, chin and neck. This gave her a more protuberant nose, sunken cheeks and a rounder chin. Not a perfect disguise by any measure. To any who had spent a lot of time with her, her usual features could still be picked out. But she had not known Escarra well. He shouldn't recognize her with this, if he would have remembered her at all in the first place.

She was glad for Kwame, in that moment, as in her rush to hide her face, she wasn't prepared for the wave of elements that rushed towards them. She shook her head, in awe, as Kwame simply... stopped it all, and the subsequent collapsing building, seemingly with nary a sweat.
As she stood up from the defensive crouch she had fallen into during the chaos, she rearranged her face back to normal, as it seemed they wouldn't be facing Escarra just yet.
"Impressive." She said, as Kwame created in seconds a passageway that would make a civil engineer weep from sheer jealousy. And truly, it was. This was what a Centurion was. This is the power Nye had at its command. It was also the power, hopefully, that she could use against her opponents if she played her cards right.

"I suppose the others will need to fend for themselves." Kilderkin no longer wore the good-natured, slightly concussed smile 'Kildi' usually wore. It wasn't the time for an act anymore. Kwame already knew better, anyway, and hopefully Evaline would either not care, or understand the need if Kilderkin gave her a bit of an explanation. She imagined she'd accept it, especially if Kwame vouched for her. "So. Now the question is, do we find a way to use them as a distraction and head to our objective? Or attempt to find Gailene's vaunted contact? I lean towards heading straight toward our goal, as we know where Escarra and his band of merry revolutionaries are, and as we've lost Gailene's guidance. But I see the merits of trying to find this contact as well. Thoughts?" She looked to Evaline and Kwame, her sword still drawn, her hood still up over her head. "I suppose we could also try to rescue the others. But I think that's a less than ideal plan, unless you think you can take Escarra and all his bodyguards, Kwame? Killing Escarra would likely make all this a good bit easier if we could manage it and also escape with our lives."

Jet ManofManyRoles rozukitsune Lost Echo EldridSmith

 

[Arcanist]

Brynwyr Protheroe

Mentions: Lost Echo ZackStop

​

Brynwyr could hear the shout of the other woman, and despite the ache in her bones, she rushed through the water to follow the voice. ‘We’re here’ could only mean one thing, and she felt the relief that Rhys was with her. Though, once she dragged herself out of the water and onto the shore, she found Rhys unconscious in Esther’s care. She fought against her drenched uniform trying to pull her down, finally dropping to the ground when she reached them.

“Well, anything?” Brynwyr tried to stave the panic rising in her voice as she watched Esther check for his pulse. When she realised Rhys hadn’t been breathing at all, she positioned herself closer to him, hands interlocked on his chest.

“Damn it,” Brynwyr muttered, voice tearfully wavering. “Come on, Rhys…” With each pump on his chest, every breath she gifted him, she felt heavier with the burden that she had killed another of her retinue, a boy she grew up. “Please, please…”

She didn’t want this. This was not part of the thrill or chaos she believed she wanted. She did not want harm to come to those she knew at the expense of a little excitement.

Starting another round of compressions, that was when the water splashed out of Rhys, as if uncovering a leaking hole. Brynwyr helped him roll over onto his side, where he hacked up what water had been in his lungs and gasped for breath.

“Easy,” Brynwyr told him, but she felt tears mix in with the lake water on her cheeks. “You’re okay. You’re fine.” She looked at Esther, relief pouring over her. “I don’t what to say. No, I do, I do. You dragged him to shore. Thank you!”

Brynwyr, however, flinched at the sound of something not quite so distinctly human, but recognised the muffled, warped tones she heard on the ship. She looked up to see Spivey, quite relaxed on a tree branch, indulging in another fine bottle of whatever alcohol he had pilfered on his way to the airship.

His unsavoury comments about how wet they were made her face light up a fierce red as she stood up, quick to react. “The fall must have scattered your brains even more than the drink already had, if you think that’s a compliment,” she sniped, “perhaps I’ll shake that branch and give you another fall to put that brain of yours to rights. Then you’ll realise you’ve fallen much further than heaven.”

 

[rozukitsune]

At first, she felt both ashamed and annoyed that none of the others seemed to at all appreciate she was doing what she could to help. She hated being treaded like an insolent child - even if that's kind of what she was. Then Charlie showed her the haircut she'd given her and her irritability faded as she blinked at the foreign girl in the reflection. She didn't even look like herself anymore. Would anyone recognize her now?

Well... that was kind of the point, she supposed. She smiled at the image shyly, then a thought occurred to her. She turned to Charlie and her eyes crinkled. "Thanks." She murmured softly with a nod of grateful appreciation. "And... you may as well use my name instead of my stage name. It's not much of a disguise: but I'm not really Renn, Burning Song anymore like this." She flicks her fingers through the short strands of orange. "Reneé will do just as well."

Then they dropped down to street level and all hell broke loose. The man who had done all the beheading pointing his finger at them and demanding their capture. Spells of every element being thrown at the group from amidst the mob. Reneé screamed and ducked, curling into a ball with her arms over her head to protect it from any falling debris but Gailene was already on it blowing away the worst of it with her power over wind. Then the building Kwame was trying to lead them through collapsed on him, Kilderkin and Evaline... and she screamed again.

No... no, no, no. She didn't want to die.

Then the guide was screaming for them all to run and dashing down an alley ahead of them and Reneé was only too happy to comply, springing up and running like she'd never run before in her life down the alleys after her only hope of salvation. It hurt in a way running had never hurt before. Ligaments tore in ways she was unaccustomed to and nearly sent her sprawling multiple times needing her to catch herself using her arms which had also never seen such harsh treatment. She caught herself on walls and rebounded back onto the path multiple times - but when they all collectively stopped at the strange man's hideout she couldn't have cared less about the searing pain in her limbs or the bruises she'd certainly have tomorrow. She was still alive.

The instruction to make herself dirtier barely registered as something she aught to be petulant about. Long past was the desire to stamp her feet and make a fuss about getting dirty. She wasn't in Nye anymore. Hadn't been there in weeks. This was real... and if she had any hope of surviving then she needed to figure out how to make the most of the helpers she had.

She dug her delicate fists into the ashes and splashed it over her face like it was water: coughing as the particles hit her nostrils but not stopping as she blackened herself up as much as she could.

Jet ManofManyRoles Fred Colon Lost Echo EldridSmith

 

[Goliath]

Goliath turned around as Adrian did, wrinkling his nose. Small eyes .. of who knows what, currently staring at them from the grass. Following their every move. This place would forever be locked in his memories. Probably, no, definitely, one of the first things he’d talk about when he returned home. The other gang members would eat this story up.

He pulled his hand back from knocking as the door opened, seemingly on its own, watching how the lit sword struggled to penetrate the darkness of the home almost abnormally. Goliath listened to Adrian speak his questions. The same ones he would have asked. Not that the ‘thing’ answered. “We?” He mumbled under his breath, immediately more distracted by the following words as he stood a little straighter.

‘Bear a great shame? There was no way this creature knew. No. Fucking. Way. That was impossible,’ Goliath clutched the strap of his backpack a little tighter, curious what the other two might be hiding, as she continued speaking about some ‘giver of gifts.’

She also mentioned rat bones and marrow, his eyebrows pinching in disgust. “Oh, you’re one creepy old woman,” he muttered softly for his team as she stepped halfway into the light, taking in her unsightly form that should surely stay locked away in the darkness of someone’s nightmares, taking special note of her wrapped hands. A slight hum of electricity could be heard from his own body.

He turned to Faraji as he talked about her ‘helping’ them. But he made a good point. “Leads? No, unless we were supposed to take a turn at a different strand of ears,” he spoke through grit teeth. Still, everything in him said this was a terrible idea.

He glanced at his group one last time, not liking the thought of this woman revealing his secret. “Fuck. Let’s go,” Goliath spoke as he stepped inside, his eyes falling on the old shelves covered in dried herbs bound with twine. But that wasn’t all; quickly spotting the same ears and teeth strung up with string, like party streamers across the ceiling.

Jet (Adrian) Arcanist (Faraji)

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Charlie Redding
Charlie grumbled under her breath as her input seemed to fly under the radar. Either everyone had tunnel vision or she was speaking a different language when she brought up the figures on the rooftops. Once again, pitohui was up in the air and then circling back down as Charlie used her familiar as a second set of eyes. Watch the rooftops, watch the mob, watch their group...rooftops, mob, group...rooftops, mob- wait the mob was on the move. Charlie didn't have a chance to pipe up in warning, the scream of lunatic #1 cutting the air first. "Pissant-" she could feel her muscles tense up as adrenaline was already roaring in her ears. She could take a dozen...two dozen, maybe that and some spare change of these mobsters. Not an entire hoard. Fortunately the Centurion wasn't all bluster, and as that wave of magic came flying towards them he managed to soak it up with a wall. She had to admit, that was pretty fucking impressive in it's own right.

The building came down, up came the plume of smoke...someone screamed to run, she wasn't sure who it was. Was it the guide? It was an unnecessary question, she could think on whose voice it was later, her senses had changed gear towards sheer survival instinct. The horde was coming, and even bodies on the ground wasn't stopping them. "Fuckin' 'ell! CHIRP-suckers, the lot of you!" The first half of Charlie's vitrol had been blissfully drowned out by the songbird crying out and the mob, but the rest of the message came across clean enough. Unlike most if not everyone present Charlie was practically bred for these moments. The fight for life or death, running from danger only to come around and suckerpunch it later when it wasn't looking while she spit an insult or two for good measure.

And despite her ability to likely outpace the party and get the hell out of dodge, she intentionally lagged behind. A foot was stomped into the ground in defiance as the mob charged into the smog...Alright Charlie, let's try a new trick why don't we? Everyone had their own approach to harnessing their magic, she was sure. She always chalked it up to base emotions, strong feelings...love, happiness, sadness, that sort of shit. For Charlie, her focus was sheer and undiluted rage. She focused on the water in the mud, the coldness of it all wrapped up in that ooze and slime of earth. With a shit-eating grin she forced it into small rolling hills, turning the water to ice and using it to force the earth to her desires. Mud shifted in those few moments before a thick ice coating spread over it into some sort of demented slip-and-slide. With that rolling field of ice and mud crafted she turned heel and ran, sprinting after her group in short order. She could hear the occasional shout of surprise as someone went up in the air before there came the satisfying crack of a body falling onto their ass on the ice.

As they made their distance she could see through Pitt's eyes still...they were being tailed, those figures on the rooftops were tracking them. If they were just mob maniacs that wouldn't bother her too much, but these were the well armed one's she'd pointed out earlier, the out-of-place group. Something to bring up for a third time, then. As they started to round a corner she took a deep breath...they needed just a bit more space. She jerked a hand upright from her hip and above her head with her palm towards the heavens. There was the sound of a mighty crack and creak as thick ice erupted out from the ground behind her as she sprinted forward. Something to cut off the behind them, a jagged and sheer cliff of arctic cold. She wasn't satisfied, she had to make sure they weren't being trailed for certain. A moment of focus before there was another sharp creak and moan of ice as small spikes erupted from the wall towards the mob. Nothing largee, no larger than pin pricks and thick as her thumb like an abrasive hide to prevent anyone from trying to just scale the damn thing without some proper bodily harm.

As they reached their destination and most of them started to catch their breath Charlie was bouncing from one foot to the next, a roll of her shoulders as she worked to get a head count. Looked like everyone was still here. Ashes were a fine enough idea...provided no one got a good look at any of them. "Gonna go ahead an' say it once again. Cloak-and-dagger on the roof tops, the well armed sort that aren't part of the mob. Caught sight of them following us, so they bloody well know who we are. Couldn't tell you if we lost em' was a bit focused on tryin' to slow down the horde. We're gonna 'ave to hope the Centurion keeps the lot of em' either busy or dead, and keeps our group livin'. As for messyin' up...I can offer a black eye if anyone just needs to not stick out even more."

She was joking about the black eye of course...really, despite her perpetually pissed off demeanor she didn't seem to be taking this too seriously, as if the run for her life hadn't phased her or left her in a state of shell shock. And that was because, well, it hadn't. She was still cool and...well not calm, still Charlie about everything. She grabbed a handful of ashes and shoved against her face, and rubbed down her hands properly. "'Ell, this is gonna make this jacket proper stifling...ashes got a certain sort of warmth to em that never proper leave, y'know? Shite...can't lose the jacket yet though, got too much of my crap in it. And with eyes on us, open carry is probably a bad idea." Despite her insight on open carry probably being a bad idea she couldn't deny a scuffle was ineviteble at this point. What could she fish out? Her knuckles? Nah, those would still stuck out. Tonfa were right out. The switchblade was fine where it was. Reaching into her jacket she produced a roll of boxing tape, starting to wrap her fingers and knuckles slowly, a glance torwards Zulan. "Oi, Zulan. Want a wrap for the hands? Never know when shit's gonna hit the fan now, dunno if words gonna go like wildfire to look for us. Lest you feel like bustin' up your knuckles in an excessive fashion, in which case good on ya."

​

Jet rozukitsune EldridSmith Lost Echo

 

[Lost Echo]

“A shallow pulse. He’s alive at least.” Esther gave the best reassurance she could, but backed up some as Brynwyr overshadowed the boy, her hands starting to pound on his chest. Trusting the knight to know what she was doing, the scientist scanned their surroundings. There were trees she recognized, but plenty she did not. She would try to take samples before leaving. The sound of a fight--a fight, not merely a predator hunting prey--she frowned. One of the crew was likely in trouble. Losing her wings in an instant, Dart appeared, hovering in front of her face. The hummingbird immediately set off to investigate; Esther was unworried, since little could catch him.

Turning back to the pair, she knelt by his head, helping her turn him as he coughed out water. "Did you expect me to let him drown?" She asked rhetorically, before shaking her head. “Don’t thank me yet.” The woman’s voice was straightforward, stern in comparison to Brynwyr’s relief. “Boy,” after he coughed out his name she repeated, “Rhys. You probably still have water in your lungs. You’ll get pneumonia if it stays there and you’ll get it faster trekking through the jungle. I know how to get it out, but it needs your cooperation.” Then bluntly, to make sure he had all the facts, she added, “If I screw up, it’s possible I’ll kill you. It’d be faster than dying of pneumonia though.”

Dart had given her warning that the drunk was nearing (their disgust was shared), but even still, she couldn’t help the grimace at his modulated voice. “Of all those who had to survive.” She muttered, taking her hat off to smooth her hair. Replacing it, she let Bryn take care of responding to him, instead focusing on Rhys. “We can do it now, though it’s likely whatever Mr. Attractive up there killed will attract scavengers. We can move on, but we should do it within the hour.”

She looked down the river, continuing. “We should stick to the water. We can look for other survivors--if he” she jerked her thumb in Spivey’s direction, “survived, maybe more than expected did.” Since he was under deck. “Still, the ship was still moving forward when we were attacked: we’re likely strewn across the jungle.” They were lucky Bryn found water, for all that Esther was grateful not to have fallen in.

ZackStop Arcanist

 

[Emphoa]

In the heat of the moment, everything seemed to move very quickly, and yet the next moment they were being directly confronted- and she felt Kwame grab onto her. Only for her eyes to snap up at the form of the building collapsing right on top of them. With a harsh fall, ready to brace herself... She was relieved when Kawme seemed to have saved them, in some way and she let out a breath, coughing from the rubble as she waved it off. She took a moment to brush herself off before she waved off of Kawme's words and she lifted up her head. "Aye, you saved us either way. So, I would say you're still doing a damn good job." She puffed out, before her eyes settled on Kilderkin.

She was quiet, and it didn't seem like the change in demeanor affected the woman much, her eyebrows furrowed- and she looked down the pathway that Kwame had expertly molded for them. Part of her envious that he was able to use earth magic, but she supposed Metal could have been just as useful. "I say there's no use trying to make our way back to them in this chaos. The smaller groups will make it harder to detect us." She finally stated, her eyebrows furrowed as she looked back to the other two individuals with her before she straightened herself up a little bit.

"I doubt we'd need the contact, and I'm sure they'll be able to handle themselves. We keep moving, and the sooner we reach our goal... Well, the sooner we may just be very well able to leave." She sighed a little at the thought before she adjusted her armor, looking back at the other two before back at Kwame. "Perhaps you should lead us, then, if we all are in agreement with that." She waited patiently for the answer, and she brushed her hand against the dome created for them.

Jet Fred Colon

 

[Emphoa]

Adamaris' brows furrowed, they remained quiet while Magnus seemed to speak. For a moment, they wondered if they wouldn't allow them to take up such a challenge at all. Would they be completely denied? Yet they did not speak up, their eyes merely trained onto the larger man while they tried to get an understanding on just what his goal was- what he had in mind. Where he was going to go next... Would they have to fight their way out of here?They frowned at the thought, and instinctively they moved a little closer to Elriel in the case that they would have to keep one another safe.

But...

They relaxed that Magnus seemed to change his tune, and they wondered if they were going to continue yanking on their chains like this. They were just about ready to take their leave of this place as soon as they could, until they were asked about their losses and they faltered. Eyes flitting onto Elriel's form and their expression softening at their friend, letting him speak up. Their hand reached out, and they gave the white haired man's shoulder a light squeeze before they looked forward, lifting up their head as they spoke. "I am here to help him, I've lost many, but to not be able to speak to Edmund- to get answers... He deserve better." They stated, carefully choosing their words as they hesitated before speaking up once more.

"During the games, my master, Ion, was in the crowd. He gave me the opportunity to even be in the games, and to learn from him. He deserved better than the ending he was given." They hadn't spoke of their master, they didn't want to think about another person that was taken from them... Perhaps they were starting to get a little too used to it, after all. Before they frowned as Magnus spoke again and they seemed to hum in acknowledgement.

"Then I will seek out the answers to my questions there." They puffed a moment after, offering a small smile and dipping their head. Eyes glancing over towards their white haired friend before they nodded as well. "Elriel is right, we'll need to know."

Goliath Jet

 

[Emphoa]

Rat grimaced as everyone seemed to split up, the thought of that just made him uneasy- but as it was, he supposed he would just have to deal with it. He hurriedly went after Leon and Mischa, brushing his hair back as he slowed his pace. Looking over at Leon before he gave a little shrug of his shoulders. "I'm going to follow Mischa, you should come with us." He insisted, offering him a little smile before he looked back up ahead. He was unsure about all of this, but perhaps it was a lot of his survival instincts starting to kick in. Something was ringing alarm bells in his mind for how... quiet, abandoned this place was. Almost like there was an ambush waiting for them. He didn't like it.

He was still antsy, even as they started to head into the building and surprisingly it was... relatively normal, if not abandoned. "Man... Maybe we should have been drinking in here." He stated, trying to make a little light of the situation as he moved forward, rolling one of the billiard balls as he spoke up. His head perking up when he heard Mischa and he snorted out soon enough. "Not sure, it makes me... on edge. I really think we should be a little careful." He admitted, and he looked back over, brows furrowing as Mischa seemed to falter, but he didn't push it as he moved over on careful feet.

"You think so?" He finally murmured, and his eyes shifted to focus on the rooms, looking back at Leon with the assumption the man followed after them. "Well, I don't think any of us should be anywhere alone, I think it would be better to stick together. We don't know if anything is still lurking around here." He chuckled a little bit at the thought, but it wasn't filled with delight. He was nervous, and his eyes fixated back up ahead of them as he started to make his way down the living quarters, eyes trailing over the hall.

"Guess we should... start picking through the rooms, yeah?" He finally murmured, looking back at the other two with his head tilted. "Any of them might be able to show us a thing or two to fill in the picture of what's going on here. Maybe they're... intentionally hiding?"

Goliath Jet

 

[Jet]

​

Johan was about to cut his hand when the trance stopped on its own, leaving him as quickly as it came. He felt empty without the strange feelings in his brain; distant like he was trapped in a dream. "Next time." He leaned forward over a desk, digging his nails into the wood. "Actually—

"Let's make that the last time." He closed his eyes and took a long frustrated breath. He never expected to see her and especially not here, during a mission after years of silence. It was like a surprise diagnosis of terminal cancer, a bonus prize at the bottom of hell. Like a demon spinning a wheel of pain, grinning when it landed on Marje. He wondered if she was even a centurion anymore, perhaps a member of the most secretive centurion order? They were called Praktorio and weren't acknowledged by the government; a bunch of shadows with no friends or family, no records of their existence. Their names erased from the books. Her absence could've been explained if they recruited her years ago, and how she reappeared now? Right after a terrorist attack? It stunk of their influence.

"I always wondered where you went." He looked back at the centurion. "Your boss the Praktorio now? Or someone completely off record?"

"My money's on the former." He pushed from the table and looked over at his team, making sure they were doing good after the attack. Narzas seemed fine but Ren was effected in some way, and what a damn disgrace that was, a mere boy enduring a centurions power. "We should be fine now," he said. "And it won't happen again, right?" He glared at Marje like there was a bad taste in his mouth. He always hated manipulative powers like hers. They were annoying and cowardly and most of all, he couldn't shoot his way out like normal.

He'd have to watch her closely and never, ever let the others from his sight, lest she attack them again. "All's forgiven if you can actually help us out, so work your magic on whatever corpses look most important, prove you can help us."

He turned to his group and noticed the bird standing in the room. It seemed Anya would arrive soon. The hulking woman would be following right behind her, giving them a five on one advantage. With those numbers, if they wanted to, they could beat the centurion and be on their merry way. It wasn't his first option but if that's what they wanted, who was he to deny them?

"Listen," he said to the centurion. "I'm gonna talk with my team... in private."

He leaned towards Narzas and Renn, huddling with them like a football team. His voice was hushed and guarded from the woman, a nearly imperceptible whisper. "You did well." He squeezed Narzas' hand and felt his heart skip a little. He worried that Marje would target her eventually, and he worried for the young man too. Ren was too inexperienced to handle an expert like her. "You stood your ground better than most," he said to the teen. "And I want to know what both of you think."

"Because whatever we do, we should do it together." He paused to think for a moment, tapping his leg with two fingers. He needed to think and think fast. There wasn't time to waste with a centurion lurking near them. "We could keep her around and see where she takes us... could take her down and throw her in prison... or give her the slip."

"Just give me the word."

rozukitsune ZackStop Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[Jet]

​

Adrian extinguished the fire rising from his sword, slicing the air as embers swirled above him. He looked at the ocean of pure darkness behind him. Ten thousand eyes awaited his decision, urging him onward as they crept closer and closer. He grimaced at the sound of insects crawling through the grass. The crunching roaches and writhing centipedes. The chirping rats with yellow teeth.

The noise defeaned him. It grew louder until it washed over like a wave, blocking the sound of a closing door, the footsteps of people walking inside. He saw a shadow rise from the swaying grasses, looming over him like a tower. There was a deep, oppressive hum of magic in the air, pounding his ears like a blacksmith. "What are you?" He said as a thousand flies formed a mouth, buzzing with excitement as they whispered,

"Follow."

He gripped his swords until his knuckles turned white. "What happens if I don't?"

"You will."

The door whipped open and slammed against the cabin wall, blowing back and forth in the wind. He saw the others disappearing down a hallway. The smiling face of a crone. "Shit." He walked backwards to the cabin, carefully placing each step. His eyes were trained on the shadow as he reached the doorway, watching it melt into the darkness.

"I'll—

"Come back for you." His stomach twisted in knots with digust. He wanted to puke and his skin crawled like worms covered him. He wanted to burn his fucking clothes. "There's something in the field." He rushed down the hallway and stopped behind his team, mouth opening at what he saw. The room was filled with skulls and cursed trinkets; ears and teeth hung from lines on the ceiling. There were hellish symbols scrawled on every inch of exposed wood, summoning circles and demonic text written in blood — and at the far end, hanging from a rope made of hair, was the painting of a pretty redhead.

"It has hold over the vermin." His nose wrinkled at the smell of rotten plants and dead animals, an alter covered in blood. It was all wrong; a perversion beyond anything he'd ever seen. He knew of cults but they were so much weaker, so much simpler than this place. "That creature shouldn't exist. This kind of magic isn't supposed to exist."

"You've seen her." The crone brushed his cheek. "Blessed be!"

"Blessed be!" She traced her hand down Goliath's arm. "The readings!"

Her fingers danced on Faraji like a spider. "No customers, only beggars! Broken, pathetic!" Her voice was mocking and cruel, like she was teasing a little kid. "With not enough bread! Not enough broth! How they'd beg for the red of a rat bone."

"How they wail when offering to the mistress." Her mouth stretched into a cruel smile, gazing at the ears hanging from above. The teeth draped right beside them. Her eyes wandered to a knife sitting on the alter. It was shaped like a triangle and covered with old blood, and beside it were rusty pliers.

"I'm not offering shit," Adrian said. "You can cut off your own ears. I'm not interested."

"Adrian is aaangry," she sang the words like a little kid. "Adrian is aaangry!"

HIs jaw clenched at the sound of his name. The song from a girl who teased him back in school. He said nothing in response though — he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. "Have any more astute observations?"

"This one," she touched Farajis chest once more. "Has a babe he wishes to protect. So precious and sweet."

"And this one," she squeezed Goliaths arm. "A stray lamb who doesn't know where home is, living in a kennel surrounded by wolves."

"But is that why you've come? To learn what you already know?" The crone smiled at the men. "No!"

"You seek a road of meat and a road of sinew! A road the mistress will show!" Her voice became a reverent whisper, like she was in the presence of a god. "Blessed be, The Queen of Bones."

Goliath Arcanist

 

[ZackStop]

Ilana peered up, using her left hand to shade her face from the sunlight that peeked through the radio tower of one building in the outpost. Stepping into the shade of the building she had chosen gave Ilana relief. Every step she took on this hot soil felt exhausting as the insomnia was trying to overtake the headstrong young woman, but it wouldn't win, she refused to let it win. She gave herself a deep inhale through her nose before walking out of the doorway. There she found several things turned over, many everyday items thrown off of nearby tables, chairs that had fallen to the floor, and completely abandoned. Not like anyone thought otherwise.

She knelt to the floor passing her fingers across it carefully like she could feel something her eyes could not see, before looking up to a desk on the other side of the room. She stood and noticed a map sitting on a it. She thought for a moment before walking over and flattened it out by passing a hand over the surface. Certainly it will come in handy to the group, who she briefly thought of for a moment and how they most certainly hate her. Ilana couldn't help but shake her head at the thought. Just because they were annoying and overly optimistic however, didn't mean she shared the sentiment, that would just be silly. But putting herself in a room with someone like Rat or Mischa, or even Leon the newcomer. Personalities would clash as they did the evening before. It's was better this way, in this building by herself with these thoughts.

She began folding up the map, looking back at the struggle that had occurred God knows when. She tried to imagine what it was like and why it went down. She pulled from all her experience fighting and witnessing the petty scraps of street life, disorganized crude technique pitted against more of the same thing. Bottles, trashcan lids, bricks and rocks thrown at and stuck against one another from the perspective of a small child in the dank alleys, which Ilana quickly pushed away.

The angry super bitch made it to the roof and began climbing the radio tower where she once again shaded her face with a free hand, peering out into the dry wilderness around them. "Where would the natives be hide...?" She asked herself as she looked out for smoke or maybe something reflecting the harsh sun into her eyes. Anything that could cue her in for anything human nearby. Anywhere they may of gone or may have been taken.

Jet Emphoa Goliath Fred Colon

 

[ZackStop]

​

Spivey nearly spat up their alcoholic sip as the woman snapped back with a fiery tongue, forcefully having to lower the bottle and wipes their mouth in a hurry. With a gulp, Spivey quickly hid their pale complexion with their beloved stark black gasmask. A little chuckle escaped through it. "Your flirting needs some work." They quipped in response to Brynwyr's reasonable fury. "Good thing you're blonde." They dropped off of the tree branch and effortlessly glided until their feet touched land, walking over when they noticed the boy. Clearly, the landing didn't go so well for him, only partially conscious and drenched like the knight was.

They cocked their head to the side, curious about the situation these three were in, but specifically the squire. "Who's the boy? He's breathing, right?" A mildly concerned question, but they truthfully didn't care much for Rhys' state of being, but the women certainly didn't share that lack of empathy. Judging by the way Brynwyr held him, the two were close, probably came here together. Spivey was sure to take note of that.

As for the scientist's ramblings, Spivey was truly touched by her words. Truly in the sense that it was clearly a snide remark, which called for a perfectly sarcastic performance. "Attractive? me? well I don't mean to brag, but..." The merc said as they placed a hand on their chest as if flattered. "Though you have such lovely skin, you must tell me your secret, doc." A wink was lost to them, thanks to Spivey's bizarre fashion sense, but the focus returned to the boy. The troubling thought of having a weak link in the middle of a foreign jungle was disturbing, almost enough to compel Spivey to leave the group behind. As much as everyone would prefer that, it would be stupid to split up when strength in numbers was an option.

They tilted their head back and forth, in a way admitting what Esther was saying about scavengers, but was quick to correct her on one point. "Not to sound cynical, but just one sec." Holding one finger up to them. "If you go searching for those other deadbeats in this environment, you're just gonna get lost and probably end up dead. And I don't suppose you know this jungle, do you legs?" Spivey spoke with a very matter-of-fact tone. It was the most sincere they will probably ever hear the drunk be. "There's no guarantee anyone else even survived, and if they did survive the smartest thing for them to do would be to regroup at the ship. Well, what's left of it." They stepped away from the group for a moment, taking brief flight, high enough to spot smoke in the distance. "See that? Ship's this way." they faced the group after making another gentle landing, despite the heavy shell on their back.

Lost Echo Arcanist

 

[Jet]

​

Tawny looked down and shook his head with embarrassment. "You not weird," he said with a sheepish smile. "Arm is weird."

"Extra parts, extra wires." He saw through her arm like it was translucent. He noticed every place where mistakes were made, every part it could live without. He could make it better given the chance. "Some parts damaged, metal impure."

"Could fix for you, make stronger?" He rolled up a sleeve and tapped his wrist with his fingers, like someone typing on a computer. "I'm not like you. I talk with machines. Know them." His arm hissed and like a pair of double doors, his skin opened revealing machine parts. He moved his fingers and miniature gears, small as marbles spun within his arm. Little pistons churned and wires hummed with electricity. There were long pinions running from his knuckles to his elbow, sliding every time he moved.

"Can make your arm like mine. Make stronger, lighter."

Meanwhile, Isaac leaned back and chuckled in his chair. "Seems we've a true believer!" He was shocked at how much he was trusted; perhaps Felix was entertaining him? Humoring an elder before the end? It wouldn't be the first time that happened. "You're right at home then, this is a land for believers."

"I've researched this place for decades, fascinating truly. Even before the Kratorians there was civilization here, and in fact—

He smiled at the thought, like he remembered a funny joke from long ago. "They constructed Nye, among other installations scattered across the world. If gods ever dwelled among us moral humans, indeed it would be them."

ManofManyRoles

 

[Lost Echo]

Vivian felt dirty. Just the term ‘dearest’ made her feel wrong. She tugged on her button down blouse, the cotton fabric feeling too thin. The slacks she hadn’t even known she’d owned, but fit perfectly (thanks Mom), had made her feel strong this morning. Like an independent woman. Now she wanted to cower. Under the guide’s appraisal. She wanted to hide behind Nihal, or even Bean.

Was this how those women felt? Draped in silks and fancy dresses, did they feel dirty without a mask hiding their faces from the stares? She could feel the worry within Nihal’s glances, but couldn’t manage more than a grimace in reassurance. She was smart enough to know hiding wouldn’t help. She had to keep her head high and treat this like it was battle. She couldn’t show the weakness inside of her.

Not that she wouldn’t take the mask when offered. But she felt it was already too late. Her face had been seen. Her youth marked. She wondered if she was taken, would Bean use it as an excuse to destroy these streets? Kill these people? Would he even bother looking for her first?

The street to the mansion seemed to grow longer, the closer they got. The building grew as it should, but the dread grew with it. Something about this guarded location seemed wrong. But maybe she was just hoping this was a nightmare. One where she’d wake up before they reached it.

The street gave way to white tiles. The tiles to stairs. And then they were before a massive door, which shined like gold. This was real. Their guide hesitated before the door, and it took a moment for her to register he was speaking. He was opening the door as he did, and instantly Vivian understood, “Not enough warning!” She squeaked, her bright face clashing with her hair. Her hands became her mask. She’d never seen that before. And she wasn’t ready to now. Especially with Nihal here! It was like being with her parents. Losing the better part of her valor, she slipped behind Nihal, focusing strictly between his shoulder blades, her blushing face still covered with her hands.

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Ava Marco
Interaction: Jet Lost Echo​

Ava let out a small sigh taking a deep breath. "yeah.. yeah i should be good to go back in.." she'd say looking over to Anya with a half-hearted smile after the weird old man dead people didn't seem so bad.. least it would take her mind off that annoying bastard and his nonsense. god she hated these riddles and stuff why couldn't she just hit the problem that would be easier and more fun, but thats never how anything worked she knew that too well, but hey didn't stop her from wishing that violence could solve more problems it did tend to cause more though. Ava tapped her chin lost for a moment in the philosophical musing of her own mind even if those musing were..

"but yeah lets head inside hopefully we can help em out, we should probobly also tell them about cryptic old man shadow wizard too, could be helpful"

 

[ZackStop]

The boy had calmed down after the brief lightshow and felt like this was the best outcome. If he was in centurions position he would surly gum it up somehow. He just waited patiently, but couldn't help but feel a little concerned. Ren was totally left in the dark, not so literal, but without his eyes and ears it was entirely up to Johan. He could always try to smell what was going on, so he took a few sniffs. "Just smells like bird..." He thought to himself. "No good."

He didn't have to wait too long however, his companions quickly released him back to his two senses giving him a sigh of relief. "Is it over?" He looked around. Not a spark in sight. He looked down at Kallos with a smile, grateful for his help. He was surely a handy familiar to have around. "Thanks for the save, pal!" He reached up high enough for a high five with the secretary bird.

Ren turned to Johan as they huddled up like football players before a big play, but Ren was totally clueless, having no idea what went on while he was blind. He was flattered however for the small praise the man gave him. "Aha- thanks." He said rubbing his neck as he crouched with the other two,. "Well, uh... I don't really know, sorry. She seems tricky." He said at a whisper, matching Johan's volume. "If she can offer us some insight we should keep her around. Book it when we got the chance." He then put a hand on his chin and looked to the floor thoughtfully. Clearly the gears in his head were turning while he spoke up once more. "And if things go south, it's five of us and one of her. Right?"

Ren surprised himself a bit there, he had more to say than he thought. Then instinctively, Ren held onto the key around his neck through his worn down shirt. Things were getting pretty tense now, he thought. But when he looked down at Phalanx and the cat was met with a brave smile.

Jet rozukitsune Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[rozukitsune]

Narzas's fear slowly ebbed as Marjorie's attention waned for the moment. She didn't stop watching the woman as she moved, though she didn't seem to be making any further efforts to ensnare any of them with her powers at least. As Johan came over to ask them their opinions, she sighed softly as he took her hand and squeezed her fingers gently around his - that cut on his arm was definitely going to get infected if they just let it heal on it's own. Especially since they were surrounded by dead bodies at the moment. While he spoke, she slipped a hand out of his and into her belt pouch and pulled out a roll of gauze. Sticking the roll under an arm to hold it while she pulled out a bottle of alcohol and a small white cotton ball - she got to work without asking permission nor being told to do anything at all. She dabbed at the cut to clean and disinfect it, then after storing the cotton ball away in a plastic bag; she pulled out a few more bits of cotton fluff and carefully wrapped his arm with them. Not too tight - not too loose, cotton at the injury site.

All the while, her ears continued to work and she took in the options he laid out, and then Ren's reaction and response to them. She was honestly a little surprised he was willing to fight, considering his reaction to her killing a man back in the arena... but perhaps he merely meant to knock her out so they could all escape. Probably. Since there was no way that allowing her to stick around them was going to be anything but a disaster in the long run - a blind man could've seen that - she was about to open her mouth and suggest they run for it...

but then Marje interrupted.

----

​

Marjorie inclined her head as Johan requested a moment alone to discuss strategy with his "team". She crossed her arms and waited, watching - observing body language as the three of them and their familiars conversed. It was no question she needed to make sure that they came to the right decision - it was merely a question of how to go about that. The kid would probably be the easiest to sway in any one direction. If she played her cards right, he might forget how strong she'd initially come on as and think she was actually a nice person to hang around. His opinion wasn't really a concern. The woman was a problem... Marjorie didn't really know anything about her other than she'd clearly stolen Johan from her, and anyone that could have done that was trouble. The kinds of women that could turn a man like Johan from the path of darkness had things like morals or at the very least good intentions and were therefore wholly unpredictable. The people with good intentions always were. Dangerous. Troublesome. Marjorie had a pretty good idea that if she allowed her to form an opinion Johan would more than likely go for whatever course of action she suggested.

Johan, however; knew her and knew how to play her game - at least to some extent. If she did as he asked and made herself useful, he'd keep her around for no other reason than she might do so again: so long as she didn't try to stab anyone in their sleep. She smiled at that thought. She could do so very much worse than just merely kill someone... and he knew that too, but he'd still keep her around - he'd just have his eyes on her basically all the time. That worked in her favor for the moment: so as she saw the body language of the group was turning on her, she spoke up.

"Ya know~..." she drawled lazily as she spied Narzas's mouth moving. Tapping the side of her face and affecting a thoughtful expression. "There was this one room Ah didn't quite go in yet. Smelled awful... you know how sensitive Ah am." She grimaced. "If'n ya didn't see anything specific where y'all came in, maybe Ah could show it to ya?" She then rummaged through her voluminous dress and pulled out a small badge made of some black stone that seemed to sparkle slightly like the night sky. It had been carved into a simple U shape, but she held it upside-down toward him with a nod. "And... right first try, good guessin'." She smirked.

Jet ZackStop Lost Echo Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[Monbon]

Euclaire had underestimated how tiring it was blasting through the canopy at the urgent speed she’d chosen. She also overestimated her own sense of direction. After slowing herself down, she quickly found she was going in circles. With no other choice, she closed her eyes and walked in a completely random direction, eventually chancing upon several small squirrel-like creatures running around gathering something sweet smelling on the ground. Curious, Euclaire decided to stop and take a look after scaring off the small critters around it with a little fire show.

What she found was several small scaly fruit scattered on the jungle floor. Carefully picking it up, she closely inspected a few before tucking the few without bite marks into her pockets. “If they’re eating it, it’s gotta be safe, right?” She continued to speak to no one in particular while tossing the final fruit from hand to hand in contemplation. After a moment's thought, she plucked a few more from the tree itself before wandering around again.

It wasn’t long before her antennae twitched. She felt the change in the air before she heard the familiar voice in the distance. There was only one woman on the ship that was loud enough to make her voice carry as far as it did. The message however, made her pause. Injured? How badly did a proud woman like that have to get hurt to actually admit it?

Skeptical, Euclaire rushed towards the source, a sinking feeling in her stomach telling her it wasn’t as light as the woman made it seem. It wasn’t long after the call quieted down that a thunderous roar caused her to stumble, quickly putting her hands to her ears. “What in the world?”

Quickly realizing the Centurion’s calls for help could have attracted something worse, Euclaire’s heart dropped. After a second of not hearing anything else, she doubled her speed and took to the tree tops again passing by birds and other creatures heading in the opposite direction. It didn’t take her long to reach her target, finding Tess struggling on her feet. Before she could put two and two together, the redhead bursted out of the trees above, her kusarigama out and covered in her flames. Using the momentum, she whipped the iron weight on the end to arc towards what made the roar. It wasn’t until she saw Baryn beside the tiger that she realized she fucked up.

Extinguishing the flames, Euclaire had barely enough time to move the chain just enough to make the weight miss and landed on the ground with a roll, her tail taking the brunt of the fall.

Wiped out more from the emotions of that embarrassing moment than anything else, Euclaire laid flat on the ground speechless for once. As much as she wanted to scold both of them, she was sure they had their reasons. Instead, she sat up and tossed Baryn a fruit. “Well, that was embarrassing. Sorry about that.”

Turning to Tess next, she found her condition less than favorable. “You look like absolute shit.” She commented, tearing off half of her skirt. Euclaire wore plenty of layers, the loss of one wasn’t about to kill her. It had seen better days but it was better than nothing. “You should probably put some pressure on that wound. I can cauterize it but I’m not trained in anything like that. It will likely make it worse, actually.” Rambling, she eventually came to a conclusion. “Yeah, pressure it is definitely the better option. Once you’re patched up maybe we can go find the others?” Seeing how badly the centurion was wounded, her hopes for the others surviving plummeted. Without the ship, what would happen to them now?

Baryn EldridSmith Tess Jet

 

[Jet]

Kwame said nothing when her performance came to an end; he knew better than to wake sleeping dogs. The woman had her reasons and especially here, where every word was twisted for leverage, he understood why she deceived them. He was happy she was done acting though, better to speak plainly he supposed.

"I'm—

"I'm unworthy of your praise." He winced at the words leaving his mouth. How he despised himself in the moment. How his arrogance stung when it mattered most. He believed himself so superior to his enemies; a towering beacon who'd protect his men at any cost; yet here he was. In a tunnel like a rat. Trapped while others ran away. He cursed the absurd promises he'd made, as if here, in the swirling chaos of revolution, power didn't kneel to luck.

"Regrettably—

"You are correct, nothing can be done for them now, yet I cannot stomach using them as bait. I made an oath to protect them." He marched forward with purpose in each step, hard and heavy like a warhorse. "However," he countered. "We've no idea where the contact resides, and we've but one common point, the factory."

"If we make haste, and with good fortune on our side, we can reacquaint ourselves there. If luck strikes twice and we find Escarra on our way, pray we can end him together — and the madness plaguing this land." He looked back at Evaline when he was done. "I will not make any declarations of my ability, for my arrogance is to blame for our predicament. But I will do what I can to lead us there. I only hope that is good enough."

Emphoa Fred Colon

 

[Lost Echo]

Kallos was terrified. Animal that he was, he was unaffected by the siren’s song. But he was directly in the path of her gaze toward Narzas. He’d never seen that type of hatred. It was directed above him, at the assassin, but he felt it filling his hollow bones with fear. He looked away a moment, Johan’s words drawing his attention, to see the man literally cutting himself to…fight the call? Before looking back at their enemy. Her focus may no longer be on them, but she still was too much of a threat to not watch.

But it was over. Her spell was done and Johan wanted to work with her? He’d known, and even understood Anya’s logic to work with someone in Nye to find Hannah. But this woman hadn’t even finished her attack before the spy was suggesting it. The secretarybird cocked his head at the raised hand, lifting his wing to bat air at the target, before nodding at his thanks. They needed to work together. With evil like that--for could someone good possess such hatred so quickly?--it was the only way they could survive.

Kallos joined the huddle behind Narzas. So maybe Johan wasn’t as trusting as he put forth. He snapped his beak in agreement to Ren’s suggestion to use her as much as possible and flee when done. If Johan could guess at her boss, then her boss could likely get her out of prison. And fleeing over fighting was always the better choice. Especially if her power was strong enough to make Johan want to bleed.

~​

Anya wanted to run in. Or away. Or something. Kallos was really upset. It was difficult to remember the logic that the familiar couldn’t truly be harmed if something went south. She was relieved when Ava decided she wanted to go in. The large woman seemed to be pondering something, before she added telling them about the time freezing man. “That’d probably be best.” He certainly was at least Centurion level, surely they’d have heard of him or at least his power. “They don’t know about Hannah though. I wasn’t sure...” She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t spoken up further back then on the boat. Currently Johan was her best in. If he was important enough to be Head of Security, then surely he would be able to look into Hannah’s disappearance.

But that was for later. With a rhetorical, “Ready?” Anya pushed open the door. Fuck. She wasn’t ready. The smell seemed worse than she’d remembered. She froze upon it hitting her, and only Kallos’s pleasure that she was coming made her move forward again. She wished one of them was air, and could keep a pocket of clean air for them, but didn’t want to waste her breath and to speak. She walked past the detective (how had he not noticed something wrong?) without a word, heading straight to the back where her bond with Kallos guided her. Her metal feet crunched against something underneath as she walked down a hallway, but she ignored that too, grabbing the handle of the door to open it.

 

[Fred Colon]

Kwame was a humble man. Exactly as she'd heard. Kilderkin didn't reply to his self-flagellation and simply looked down the tunnel. She hoped Renn would be ok, or, Rene, as she'd asked to be called, but with fighters such as Zulan and Charlie, she had hopes that she would be. As for her own group, she was optimistic that they would make it out alive. Kwame was powerful, and she knew she could handle herself. She wasn't sure of Eveline's strength yet, not having interacted with her much, but she supposed she would find out sooner rather than later. She seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. Not shaken up by the sudden chaos, at least, and on board with what was, as Kilderkin saw it, the best plan.

"Then we're all in agreement." Kilderkin nodded, "Lead the way, Kwame."

Kilderkin opened her senses and began looking for water. It wasn't a full proof ability by any means, but she'd attuned herself to pick up even the smallest amounts. Normally water in the human body was protected by the restrictions of elemental magic, but here perhaps it might be of use.

"I'll be sensing for water in open wounds as we go on. I won't sense anyone if they aren't wounded, but in a place full of death and violence such as this, it might give us a warning if we're being approached by one of the rioters. I imagine many of them are likely hurt in some fashion. I'll be able to sense the water in their blood."
Jet Emphoa

 

[Jet]

​

Arnheid blinked at them like her brain was misfiring, her mouth parting as a nasty comment came to mind. "You ask why?" Her voice strained with frustration. "The lights of Járnsmidur are not the playthings of little boys! They are weapons of a most secretive, rare magic, left behind when the maker built this land."

She unbuttoned her coat and tossed it aside, revealing a loose woolen tunic. There was a necklace hanging below the collar. "Ten years I served before sailing north on my own. Ten years of fighting to earn this." She pulled up her necklace and hanging from the end, glowing in the darkness of her cabin, was one of the magic crystals. It seemed to hum in the strained silence. "Your kind cannot be trusted with the lights. You'd scour the tree like vultures on a corpse, burn the world until ash swallowed it whole."

"It has always been—

"Wait wait wait," Zak said. "What makes you lot so special? The way I see it, you're greedy keeping them to yourself. Have these pretty little gems while—

"You are a fool," she said. "We have protected them for generations — and the great power they hold." Her hand glowed with blue lightning magic, crackling as the gem glowed in response. Her magic hummed loud and the electric charge, once small and harmless, swirled like a raging storm. "It turns embers into flames, tremors into quakes. It is the power to make giants of small men."

"I only—

Her voice faltered for a split second. "I only wish the journey was less perilous. We lose many to the storm." Her mind raced with thoughts of her brother, a young man who ventured north six months ago. Her heart ached with thoughts of his smile and the sound of his voice. His declarations of adventure to the tree. He'd been a popular man and his ship was filled with good friends, ten lads with dreams of reaching the north. They were all dead now she supposed, exactly like these men if they went too. "You've not the mettle to claim the lights for yourselves, nor the right."

"You think we're bludgers yeah?" Zak snickered with a grin. "Bunch of lazy bums? Just wait and see, bit a cold won't stop me n' the lads."

ManofManyRoles EldridSmith

​

"Then we shall drink to Edmund!" He grabbed a cup and downed every drop, before grabbing another beside it. "We drink to Ion!" He downed the second as his men followed suit, despite their lack of enthusiasm. Their faces were grim and twisted with annoyance at his decisions, but they still respected his power. His heroic deeds outnumbering the many stars in the sky. "There is no place more dangerous than the path awaiting you. It seeks your death at every hour, every moment of each day, dragging you closer to the grave."

"It is a place where the cold turns men to statues of frozen flesh, where men lose their lives to madness and hunger, where none will come if you are lost."

"It is the Hvít Eyomörk."

"The white desert." His mind filled with memories from his time there. He felt his toes turning black and crumbling from frostbite. The ocean spray cooling his face. The white mountains at the edge of the world, rising in the distance like towers. His stomach churned with the pangs of starvation, when food was scarce and his body weakened at the end. The pain of every desperate, slow step that he took.

He knew what they faced and how bad their chances were, but he wouldn't impede their fate. He was bound by honor to help them now. "In the names of the fallen you seek to avenge, written by death norns of the Beinuok! I command you to the edge of the world!"

"You must travel by sea through the Nordursjór, across the ice desert to the mountains of the end. It is there you will find what you seek." He walked past them and opened the front door, welcoming a gust of rain and freezing wind. "Come. You must see the ship that will carry you."

"Wait," Darius said. "We have an airship. Top of the line I might add."

"Nordursjór is impassible by air," Magnus said. "The winds would devour your ship in seconds. You must cross it in the old ways, as our ancestors have done since the dawn of history — with a ship only we can build."

Goliath Emphoa

 

[Fred Colon]

Bracken looked over at Ilyana as she climbed up one of the buildings, as he already had. He grunted, and nodded his head, before pointing downwards, towards the tree line. There. Not far from the building they stood on branches were snapped and broken. It could have been an animal, if not for the scrap of cloth that seemed to dangle from one of the broken bushes. It was what had drawn Brackens eyes to it in the first place.

"Moving. Much. Struggle?" Bracken mumbled, unsure.

"Some animal. Drag. Prey. Into forest." He pointed to the broken branches, some of them broken too high up for most predators body type. But broken where a human standing up right might break them. "Human animal. I think."

ZackStop Jet