Dimensions

[Ygor's Revenge]

A stench of death and decay suddenly made itself present on the seashore, making its way into the carved triangle of O'Lantern's nose. The scarecrow looked around for the source, and found himself staring back at the approaching storm. Somewhere inside of it it pulsed an ominous red, the hollow voice in the wind rising to a bone-chilling wail. A shudder passed through O'Lantern; the barnyard scrap that made up his body rattling and creaking and rustling. The air was growing thick with whatever dark power emanated from the storm, and the others began to leave.

Needing no more warning he turned to begin fleeing, only to see three white-armored figures at the edge of the beach. The tallest of them thrust a weapon--something like a staff, or mace, or spear, O'Lantern couldn't quite tell--forward and fired a shimmering blue beam towards the storm. It struck head on, and for a moment the cloud shifted and squirmed in discomfort. The light inside of O'Lantern's head glimmered hopefully. Surely these newcomers were heroes; knights of the king sent to vanquish whatever evil was invading this place. One of them, and old man, called out for them. The scarecrow broke into an awkward run. His long legs, which were merely old cornstalks tied around jointed pieces of wood, moved stiffly, while the wooden washtub that formed his shoulders squeaked from side to side on the metal bucket that made his middle.

In another moment he found himself standing among the men in white, along with the others. It occurred to him that one of the knights was unusually tall, and possessed a surplus number of legs. Curious as it was O'Lantern wasn't going to question it. The knight was clearly as brave, if not braver, than his two-legged brethren.

"I must thank you for saving us, good sir knights," he said with a humble bow that nearly caused him to fall over. As he shakily stood up again he noticed for the first time the strange woman that had been among them. She was beautiful, if a little strangely colored, and like the giant knight had an excess of limbs, except in her case it was another set of arms. She had adorned herself in beautiful ornaments of wondrous craftsmanship, and her body shimmered with gold and silver and jewels. O'Lantern bowed to her in greeting, surely she could have been nothing other than a Princess.

 

[Ragamoofin]

MAJOR GM POST

As the newcomers to the Null Dimension talked among themselves, each perplexed in their own way, the darkness closed in. It was solid, liquid, gaseous, all at once. You smell a horrid stench, one you instantly recognize as that of rotted flesh. A dim red glow begins emanating from the cloud, and the whispering is now almost a shout.

"ANLEE. ANLEE. ANLEE."

The shadows are now almost a hundred feet from the beach. Just as you begin to go into flight or fight mode, you hear a whistle from behind you. At the crest of a hill, where the beach begins leading to the city, you spy three figures clad in white. The one on the left is at least nine feet tall, clad in platinum armor. He has four legs, wears a massive horned helmet, and wields a strange weapon you've never seen before. The one to the right wears a white mask with two dark slits for his eyes, and wields a smaller version of the weapon the large man has. The man in the middle is frail and elderly and wears a plain, loose fitting white robe. He is bald, and has a bushy white beard. In his hands is what appears to be a book.

"Get over to us, quickly! Come on, before you get devoured!" shouts the giant man.

The man on the right points his weapon at the shadow, and a blast of blue energy flies from it. It smashes into the darkness, and the shooter is rewarded with an ear-piercing scream. The darkness almost stumbles back, seems to gather its wits, and then continue its advance.

"Quickly and calmly, no reason to be irrational!" calls the bald man in the middle. "But make haste!"


Weapons of the strangers

Anselle gave a series of sniffs,the first of which was more than enough to get the putrid scent of rot and old blood into his lungs. Tongue squirming in his mouth, Anselle had to clasp a hand over his mouth from keep from gagging over it, face cringed in disgust. "Oh, Stars above, what is that?" As if answering his question, a voice, terrible and thunderous in volume, screamed that word. Anlee, wailed the cloud.

Spinning on his boots, Anselle stared out over the water, eyes going wide at the shocking closeness of the darkness. It was nearly upon the beach, just when it'd looked to be far out. It's speed was increasing, and Anselle could only imagine it wasn't all too pleased with his fireball. In hindsight, his attempt to gauging it's reaction might not have been the best idea at the time. Quietly slipping his cooled runestone into his pocket, Anselle cursed his luck. There was undeniably something like a vice over works of magic in the realm, but runes were captured essences merely having to be stirred by magic, and if he could just do that he'd at least have a fighting chance of escaping the cloud. Yet, with the only one he carried being useless against the cloud, his options of defending himself were struck down to nothing.

Some small, frightened part of him prepared for death when the darkness looked ready to encroach on the beach. Fate, however, had other plans. As Anselle froze on the spot, the shout of the cloud and the terror running like ice in his blood, a streaking light flew across the beach, aimed at the darkness. And unlike his fireball, this beam struck and it hurt. The darkness visibly recoiled at the blast, the bone-rattling screech it let out an inarguable cry of pain. Shocked out of his freezing spell, Anselle's head swiveled around to look towards the blast had came from, an armored warrior and an elderly man at their side. Both of them called to the group spread across the beach, warning them of being devoured. By the cloud? After what he'd seen, Anselle believed it wholeheartedly.

Feeling returning to his legs, Anselle's horns ceased their glowing, stealing a final glance at the darkness before he bolted towards the duo. "Fine by me!" He replied on a shout, not particularly inclined to stay on the sand. The one wielding the - fork? It seemed that was the key to damaging the darkness, one blast from it had held it back, giving them a window of time to flee. Where could he get one?

Catching up to the few of them that had gathered around their rescuers, Anselle overheard the hissed word of the warrior and the tentacled one. Eyebrow raising at talk of a Chaplain and the word the darkness chanted, Anselle was thrown for a loop. "Where to, now?" Anselle asked, glancing back towards the beach. "I don't think you alone will be able to keep that back for long, is the city safe?"

 

[Assallya]

The four armed, purple skinned mage continued her ascent with seeming disregard for the racing black cloud. She would show no fear, not for any wyrd, nor man, and definitely nor for a nebulous force that could do nothing but whisper a single word. She walked imperiously past the white clad figures that appeared in their strange masks, marking to herself that they looked much like her vassals.

An energy blast flashed from a device one of the white robed warriors wielded, slashing through the air and past Tessaril. She did not wince, did not flinch away. She strode forward, one bare foot placed onto the sand again and again until the sand gave way to some other substance that wasn't familiar to her. She knew a magical staff when she saw one. She eschewed such things herself as a crutch, preferring to keep her hands free to weave magical energy into complicated forms that such a weapon could not hope to accomplish.

The strange cloud wailed in anguish and pain and the strange orange headed automaton ahead of her, that had passed her earlier was looking over at the inky cloud Tessaril could not see without turning her head. He, or it, was staring, or what passed for staring, in awe. Since there were still people behind her and she couldn't hear them being consumed. Tessaril drew a picture in her mind, realized she was still safe and continued walking quickly and without apparent concern up to the three white robed figures as if this were a mere stroll.

When the orange headed automaton bowed she barely acknowledged it except with her eyes. It was simply the natural order of things. She was a Wyrd after all, rulers of dozens of worlds.

"A creature that needs, a creature that wants does not state its name when it lashes out." she said as she overheard the men talking to the humanoid sea-creature about how one should not repeat the word heard whispered upon the shore, "Either it calls out for what it desires with whatever means or It would utter whatever it thinks would earn it what it wants."

Finally, she turned, one set of hands on her hips, the other across her bare chest and stared the nothingness, this vicious inky thing that drank starlight and drove the sea itself to recoil in horror. It was, in all respects, divine.

I do not fear you, she thought at it, steeling her very soul against the horror before her. I do not fear you. I am of the wyrd and we bow to none. We who have killed our own gods do not fear the horrors of the heavens nor hells.

 

[Jack Robinson]

GM POST

Just as the last of you get to relative safety behind the three mysterious strangers, the darkness lets loose a horrible howl, like a wolf frustrated during its hunt. It then seems to morph into a ball, and a shadowy spike shoots toward you. The bearded man flips open his book, shouts some unknown words, and a bolt of blue lightning comes down from the heavens, eliminating the spike just moments before it would have surely destroyed you all.

The darkness makes a grumbling noise, and then finally reaches the beach. You watch, breathless in anticipation of what it is about to do. The darkness splits in two, opening like the hinged jaws of some beast. A figure emerges from within it. A short creature, shrouded by the inky blackness. The only features you can see are two glowing yellow eyes. It stands in the darkness, motionless, glaring at you with horrible hatred.

"Begone, demon!" shouts the bearded man.

The beast snarls. "Anlee." The word thunders across the openness of the beach, echoing and penetrating your very core.

"The Chaplain has not requested your presence. Begone."

The beast snarls and points a gnarled, pointed finger at you and your companions. "Mine."

The bearded man is taken aback. "What?"

The beast cackles, a husky, choking sound. "Mine. Mine. Anlee. Anlee. Anlee."

It begins stalking toward you, the water boiling where his feet touch, the sand scorching and smoking.

"Stay calm. It cannot harm you," the bearded man says, but you're not quite sure. What do you do?

 

[Ragamoofin]

Out the corner of his eye, Anselle saw the darkness shape itself anew, his head following his gaze and heart jumping into his throat at the sight of firing something at them. He hardly had time to gasp before it was upon them, aimed with a palpable intent to kill. His horns began to glimmer in the short time between the darkness's howl and it's released bolt of ebony, pushing the mana that ran sluggishly in his blood to protect him. He couldn't think of a spell, there simply wasn't enough time. If he didn't hurry, he'd be -

Flash. Anselle's ears stood up, wool standing on end. Bang. He flinched, eyes shutting tight and seeing spots behind them. Lightning, like seaglass through the air, collided with the darkness' attack. Anselle opened his eyes, convincing his muscles from their painful tense. Blinking away the dots in his vision, Anselle stared on at the book wielding old man. Another naked lifeform, he noticed.

Disregarding that fact, Anselle peered with curious eyes at the book the old man held. "So my fireball did nothing but that did?" Anselle could've bleated. Perhaps he simply wasn't using the right spell against the darkness. Fire and lightning shared a similar heat, but maybe that book contained spells of another caliber.

There was no time for thinking over the contents of the book, not when the darkness had finally reached shore. Readying himself for another bolt of lightning, Anselle's ears lowered against his scalp, watching the cloud undulate and open. Out of it, stepped a small being, made of shadows and eerie eyes. The thing sent a shiver down Anselle's spine, but he didn't dare look away.

It spoke, that dreaded word, the one Anselle didn't know but made him fear it. Swallowing his anxiety back, Anselle tried his best to avoid breaking eye contact with it. Even with it proclaimed that he, and the rest of the wakers, were it's, Anselle glared on.

"I don't belong to the darkness, and I don't belong to you," Anselle stated, fully believing his words. This thing, it wouldn't take him without a fight. The old man had different plans, to keep calm, promising their safety. Anselle...couldn't quite believe in that. Anselle gave him a sideways glance, eyes moving back to the approaching creature.

"Hope you're sure about that, otherwise we're in trouble..."

 

[Ygor's Revenge]

O'Lantern's broomstick spine creaked as the scarecrow turned just in time to see the storm scream and twist in the ugliest fashion, changing shape into a ball. O'Lantern's eyelights flickered in fright as it threw some sort of shadowy lance at the group. At the last moment the bearded man called to the heavens in a strange tongue, and drew down a fiery blue streak of lightning that shattered the projectile in a shower of fizzling sparks. The awestruck scarecrow gaped at the old man, carved mouth dropping open. He was a sorcerer, just like Malagigi. But the darkness was still there, now at the very edge of the beach. It gone ominously quiet, waiting in stillness like the eye of a storm.

O'Lantern rattled with a start as the cloud suddenly began to open. Something began crawling out of it, as though it were hatching out of an enormous black egg. His hickory fingers tightened around the handles of his scythe while he watched the shadowy figure leer at them with poisonous yellow eyes. The old man barked at the newcomer, commanding it to leave, and addressing it as a demon. O'Lantern froze as perfectly still as if he was merely a normal scarecrow devoid of enchantment as the dark being spoke, lifting a crooked finger to point at him and the others.

"Mine..."

O'Lantern took his scythe from his shoulder as the demon began scuttling toward them, the earth and water violently rejecting its every step. There was no time to readjust the blade for fighting, but he thrust it in the creature's direction all the same. The scarecrow knew it probably wouldn't stop it. But iron was useful against creatures of darkness, or so Malagigi had told him.

 

[Moogle-Girl]

Kelkov was well on his way to running past the white-clad figures and into the city, desperate for a chance to catch his breath and properly assess the situation, when the dark cloud let out an awful, ear-splitting roar. Kelkov whirled in time to see the darkness launch something. He didn't see what it was. He was too busy trying to remember everything he knew about neutral magic and craft a shield. But just like his dark magic before, he struggled to produce much of anything, worsened by his lack of skill in the element and in-the-moment panic.

And then in a flash of light, the projectile was gone, banished by one of the figures. Kelkov had no time to breathe before the darkness landed on the beach, carrying waves of fear and despair with it, and deposited something onto the sand like a plane releasing a passenger. Whatever the shadowy thing was, it was alive.

Kelkov didn't find the creature inherently worthy of fear. Though the bearded man called it a demon, and it certainly shared an affinity for darkness with the demons Kelkov knew, the Zetan counterparts had taught him that the dark was nothing to be afraid of. But the way the beast moved and spoke, and the way the white-clad figures reacted to it, now that made Kelkov shake in his fancy leather shoes. He gulped.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked the figure who insisted this creature couldn't harm them. "It sure seems to think otherwise."

Ignoring the bearded man's claims, Pumpkinhead -- no, wait, O'Lantern -- pulled a scythe from his shoulder and ran at the creature. Fighting wouldn't work; Kelkov was confident of that. But still, while he watched the consequences of the attack unfold, he began another attempt at gathering some dark energy in his hands. Maybe he could get the creature's attention enough to communicate with it.

 

[Jack Robinson]

GM RESPONSE TO @Ygor's Revenge and @Moogle-Girl

O'Lantern's Scythe Throw (Note: A roll of twenty was required to hit the target. The roll was instead a thirteen)
O'Lantern's scythe flies through the air, heading straight toward the diminutive dark figure on the beach. The weapon stops in mid-air, several feet from its target. The creature then flings the scythe back toward O'Lantern at startling speed. Fortunately for the hapless scarecrow, the four legged warrior catches the weapon in his left hand, probably saving the pumpkin headed man's life.

"Try not to agitate him. Physical weapons won't do anything," he says to O'Lantern and the others.


Kelkov's Attempt to Communicate With the Darkness (Note: This Attempt Was Successful. A fifteen was required)

A crackle of dark energy sparks out from between Kelkov's fingers, and for a moment, you are all overjoyed. Perhaps magic can indeed be cast in this realm. But just as quickly as the energy forms in the man's hands, it dissipates. This display of mastery over the shadows, however, plainly catches the eye of the beast on the shore. Its yellow eyes lock on Kelkov, and you can swear the thing is smiling. Its left hand, which is attached to a deformed arm that is much smaller and shorter than the beast's dominant right arm, creates a ball of dark energy, which then rises above its head and into the sky, before disappearing into nothingness. The beast recognizes a fellow user of dark magic, and it is pleased.

Its harsh, grating voice echoes across the burning sands. "Strong with dark magic. Come, child. Come to us. Return. Return. Return to us. Weak now, strong soon. But must join. Must join. Darkness in the heart of Chaplain, darkness in city, darkness in all. Darkness in you, darkness in we. Control darkness, control all. Come, child. Come."

Its voice is crooning and cunning, benign and malevolent at the same time. One of the warriors, the one who shot at the darkness, lays his hand on Kelkov's shoulder and shakes his head. The bearded man grunts in agreement.

"Do not listen to him. If you get too close, he'll devour you. And that is a fate much worse than any other, I assure you."

The dark creature keeps standing there, arms twitching, eyes blazing. You notice some of the shadows are beginning to fade away, exposing pink skin beneath the darkness. It's as if the creature is getting more...comfortable. More at home. A terrifying thought, indeed.

 

[Moogle-Girl]

By the time the energy makes it out of Kelkov's hands, his arms were sore and he felt a migraine coming on, but at least he managed to push out a few sparks. It was as if the energy was intentionally disobeying him, pushing back at his every command. He hadn't even had this much trouble when he was just starting to learn his craft. It was worth it, though, because he got the shadow creature to react. The magic it produced still felt different from his own, however. Kelkov had been told time and time again by his mentor that his dark magic wasn't inherently evil, just as its opposite, light magic, wasn't inherently good. But whatever the creature made... it was pure malice.

The name "Chaplain" caught Kelkov's attention amidst the creature's babble. Finally, a clue as to their whereabouts. It wasn't a name Kelkov recognized, but it would surely lead to more information. Maybe they could even coax it out of the creature.

"I thought it couldn't harm us," Kelkov said to the white-clad figure. He then addressed the shadow creature, watching it closely for any signs of aggression. "If I come with you," he said, "where will you take me? Can they come with?" He gestured at the others.

 

[Assallya]

Tessaril didn't know what to make of these others that had arrived with her. Clearly these white robed men had some experience dealing with this creature and with this world. She didn't see the point in antagonizing them, whatever they were. Were they clergy, warriors or something between? It certainly seemed that way if whatever magic was translating for them was correct.

The purple skinned magi observed everything. She didn't understand why those newly awakened on the beach like herself were experimenting with what appeared to be some demonic force of nature. It seemed far too dangerous for far too little reward. Still, so long as they were dying and not her she was fine learning from their foolishness. Interacting with the thing via magic seemed doubly insane. Magic had a connection to the person invoking it. If that thing rode that connection back... well...

"Fools," she finally uttered, letting a small bit of exasperation out in the form of a soft sigh, "You are as children, never having seen fire and poking your fingers into the hungry flames."

Then she turned on her heel again and strode up away from the beach. In truth, she had no idea where she was going now that she was leading the white robed men instead of following them. However cities always grew radially outwards from the center. It was the nature of all beasts and she suspected some sort of grand fortress or tower awaited them there. A leader of those such as these white robed warrior priests would demand such by right.

 

[Jack Robinson]

GM RESPONSE TO @Moogle-Girl 's COMMUNICATION WITH THE DARKNESS

The darkness almost seems to chuckle as Kelkov speaks to it, as if he were some small child trying its hardest to speak. The short figure on the beach pulls at the blackness covering it, and tears it away in chunks as if it were wrapped in plastic. Beneath the darkness, you see cracked, pink skin. The creature wears a black and red plaid shirt that covers its small, hunched body and dangles almost below its knees. Its left arm is shorter and deformed, while its right is strong and muscular. It has a shock of rust colored hair atop its pink head. Its eyes are an empty yellow, its nose piggish in nature, its teeth jagged and jumbled together like a drawer of disorganized knives. The beast looks like some horrible child's drawing, and does not look powerful in the slightest.

"We take you home," the short beast replies after it strips itself of its black shell, "Back where you belong. Where we gain power. You come. Or you feed us. You feed Anlee. Anlee hungers. For power. For flesh. Anlee will take both. You will come with Anlee. You will gain both. Power. Flesh. Power. Flesh. Power. Flesh."

The beast begins dancing some sort of horrific, twitching jig as it sort of jumps in the air and begins waving its arms side to side, its teeth gnashing, eyes spinning, and body shaking. The bearded man curses under his breath and looks toward the city, where you all notice Tessaril has gone.

"Don't try to talk to it, and don't go near it. You must trust us, it cannot harm you. But you mustn't be so unintelligent! Come now, make your way to the city. Heracles, escort them. R'uq and I will remain here and handle our demented friend."

The four legged warrior grunts and glances down at the dancing creature. "I don't envy you. Best of luck, Socrates. You want me to take them to the Observatory?"

"Yes. The Chaplain will want to see them."

The four legged warrior nods. "To the Observatory it is. Come now, everyone. All your questions will be answered soon."

 

[Ragamoofin]

It'd been several minutes of the creature being unnervingly close to them, and yet they were still in one piece and not ripped apart by those claws of it. Anselle had no other choice but to watch the others go about their way of interacting with the thing, although Anselle himself just wanted to leave as quickly as possible. The purple one had left on a scathing response, heading into the city with apparent disregard for whatever it was they'd gotten into. Anselle bit his tongue a bit, watching her walk off with that same proud strut.

He didn't know why, but something told him they weren't going to get along.

However, other things were happening. The first smooth one he'd met, Kelkov, seemed to struggle just as much as him when it came to exerting his magic - Anselle couldn't help but feel an affinity for darkness in his momentary cast, but that was enough to catch the attention of the dark figment.

It revealed itself, and it was...smooth. Anselle was immediately terrified. Not only had it torn the darkness of it's person to expose something even more horrifying, but it's manic chant of flesh and power made Anselle's skin crawl. Crossing his arms, Anselle dug in the depths of his sleeves for another rune, cursing his luck when there weren't any to be found. If he'd known he'd be warped into an unknown realm with creatures of darkness wanting flesh, he would've carried more runes. Hopefully, and that was a hope riding on everything, there was still sufficient mana in him to create more. Of what, remained to be seen; Anselle was no stranger to darkness, he just prayed there were other elemental options.

Turning as the warrior suddenly became their escort, Anselle offered the armored being a failing smile. "Please, lead the way. I have a few questions of my own to ask this Chaplain." One, for instance, just where in the cosmos they were. Anselle didn't have much off-planet experience, but the realm didn't feel...ordinary.

 

[Boo Girlie BoomBoom]

~Jet~
Subject PO-001994

<~~~<★>~~~> ​

no-lightbox

The scythe assault was impressive but just as impressive was its failure. The giant black cat just snorted at its futility. Once more the physical had not even come close to penetrating this blackness. Again Jet snorted then nodded in the fleeing multi-limbed armed woman's direction; she spoke sense and wisdom. It was high time to withdraw. Upon seeing the futility of the physical attacks, Jet knew any agression towards the blackness and the emerging figure would do nothing.

Then suddenly, the green garbed male Sapien Shaman, Kelkov decided to speak with it. It dared to speak and commune with the blackness as if the blackness posed no threat to all those gathered here. It acted as if it would try to bargain--

Jet roared. She had heard enough. There was no way she would be put into such a predicament. You do not make bargain with a dark Spirit-- or whatever this thing was-- unless you have much to gain and more importantly; you have 'something' to bargain with. That 'something' appeared to be all those that had tried to side with the green garbed Shaman.

But no more. Jet would not side with this madness nor would she stand by while the fool Shaman traded away their basic freedoms.

The panther crouched low then launched forward and upward. She landed right in front of the male Sapien Shaman. Towards the blue energy weilding males she glanced at now and she nodded at them, affirming to them that Jet sided with the trio now. They had wisdom and enough sense to try to get all of them to stay away from the blackness, no matter what form it took. But now it seemed that Jet had to take things into her own hands now.

Make that; she would take things into her own 'claws' now.

If the green garbed Shaman spoke anymore to sate or bargain with the blackness, she would summon all her will to re-establish her proper phase, and then she would strike out with all her might at this fool. But first, one more shot at Communing telepathically before shredding him like a razor through paper. A breath she took, yellow eyes closed and she sought to 'see him with more than her mere eyes...'

>>Kelkov. Away from black. Come to three males. Come with Jet.<< The static seemed to waver and she saw him with her mind, but for only a few heart beats, >>Come now. Please.<<

Yellow eyes snapped open wide, the hue of the harvest moon shining within them, a rumble of dead thunder in her chest.

>>With Jet. Please. Or Jet Murders you.<<

<~~~<★>~~~> ​

 

[Ygor's Revenge]

O'Lantern teetered on his legs as the scythe left his grip, the warm yellow glow in his carved eyes flickering nervously. It flared up as the scythe immediately returned in his direction, far faster than he had thrown it. It was only the intervention of the four-legged knight that it didn't smash into him. The scarecrow turned to look at his savior, his features somehow looking sheepish.

"Try not to agitate him. Physical weapons won't do anything."

The scarecrow's pumpkin head slowly bobbed in a nod as he was handed his gardening tool. "I apologize, sir," he replied in a meek murmur, "I have never been in this situation before."

The shadow-shrouded creature caught his attention again as it directed its horrid voice towards the one called Kelkov, words oozing out whatever orifice it spoke from. It began speaking of darkness, of returning, and to O'Lantern's horror Kelkov seemed to be considering its mangled proposition, whatever it was. The scarecrow grimaced. This was surely a powerful demon, if not the archfiend himself. It tore itself from its shadow covering, and what lay beneath was something twisted and incomplete, like a monstrously overgrown imp. It spoke again of craving flesh, and not in the cordial way Malagigi did when he asked for dinner, but in the manner of some ravenous beast.

O'Lantern clutched his scythe close to his body. The wizard, who had been addressed as Socrates by his companions, told the four legged knight to take them to an observatory. The scarecrow noticed the purple princess was already making her way into the city. Knowing that he would be of little use to the fight against the demon O'Lantern turned to follow, but looked out at Kelkov before taking a step.

"Master Kelkov, we must depart!"

 

[Ragamoofin]

For a moment, it seemed the group as a whole was finally setting out; the darkling and the caster designated to deal with it left little room for arguments there. However, Anselle couldn't help but notice that not everyone was following the warrior. In fact, they were two short.

Glancing over his shoulder, Anselle observed the pounce of the ethereal Jet, blocking Kelkov's way towards the sand and the darkling. He watched them for a second longer, just about to turn and head behind the armored guard, but then - a buzz. It didn't last long, and it certainly wasn't anything strong, but he'd felt something between the two. With how it'd came and went, it was hard to tell just what it was, luckily something deeper within Anselle told him a bond had been made.

Second short, and brimming with an intent that didn't sit right with him, Anselle felt the stirring of an eager, confused force in the depths of himself. It shoved at his thoughts, pressing, urging him to step in. The pumpkin golem called out to the man, sounding just as urgent as the force felt.

Anselle took a breath to steady himself, and all but dashed to Kelkov's side, friendly smile on his face and not a trace of fear in his eyes. "Come on, now!" He said cheerfully, clapping his palm into Kelkov's hand, tugging the smooth man towards the rest of the group. "Won't get any answers standing around here, and I don't think we're going to have much luck making sense of our strange darkling." Anselle's bleat was a quiet, humored one. "Let's see what this Chaplain of theirs has the say, and with any luck we'll be back home before we know it!"

 

[Moogle-Girl]

Kelkov didn't pay the topless woman any mind. Though the shadow creature made him uneasy for sure, he'd already learned more than any of the others by pushing through that fear. He would've called out a good-natured jibe at Titty-- excuse him, Pinky, had he not been concerned that a shout would provoke the creature.

Instead, he watched with fascination as it tore away its shadowy cloak like a lizard shedding its skin. It almost looked human. Grotesquely mutated, sure, but a far cry from the ominous blob of darkness it had ridden to the beach on. He listened to it babble more. "Anlee" seemed to be its name. Just thinking the word made Kelkov's skin crawl, and watching its bizarre dance unnerved him even more for reasons he could no longer place. He shouldn't have been afraid of this thing. Emelia had a pet that was scarier than this. And yet here he was, agreeing that talking to the thing for much longer was probably suicide.

As if to affirm that thought, the black panther from before made a running leap and landed between Kelkov and the creature, gesturing sharply at the white-clad guides. And then it spoke to him. The voice of Jet sounded clear in his mind, and her eyes bore not just into his, but through his body, his soul. As if the core of his being and all the Light and Darkness that made him him were laid bare. It was only for a moment. Her murder threat didn't phase him -- he was more wary of the dancing creature -- but he heard her loud and clear.

The sheep man -- he'd be Woolly for now -- took Kelkov's hand and tugged him toward the rest of the group. Instinctively, Kelkov yanked his hand back, a hint of disgust flickering on his face before he caught himself. "Yeah, okay," he said before calling out to the four-legged guide. "Heracles, was it? The Chaplain had better give us some clear answers and a ticket home." Or else I'll keep trying to get my own went unspoken.

 

[Jack Robinson]

Sqyd was unsure as to what exactly was going on now. One moment there was darkness. Then a demon. Then some sort of demented beast, dancing on the beach, swinging his arms, gnashing his teeth, and howling at the stars above. The darkness to chant "Anlee" in the background, creating some sort of twisted music for the beast to dance to. Sqyd whipped out his k'uurvas, and again, fired at the creature. Two more spikes soared forward and simply bounced off the dancing monster as if he were made of rubber. Sqyd moaned in despair. How were they going to escape this? And now with the strange man trying to communicate, and the animal beast trying to stop him, they were going for each other's throats. Surely Sqyd was doomed now. He had begun to acknowledge that he was not in Quillonia, and the words of the four legged man, Heracles, confirmed his suspicions.

"Sorry lad," he said, addressing Kelkov, "But the Chaplain isn't one to give things out like that." He made a sign of the cross on his chest, and cleared his throat. "Come on, let's get moving before you antagonize this thing."

"Already seems antagonized to me," Sqyd said, "What is this thing, anyway?"

Heracles shrugged. "Want me to be honest? I'm not sure. It's been hovering around the city ever since I came here. It's never gotten this close though." He paused. "Perhaps it's getting stronger. We should really get to the Chaplain. He needs to know about this, and he needs to know about you."

Heracles began moving toward the city, scuttling quickly on his four muscular legs. Sqyd had to almost run to keep up. He looked back for a moment, watching as the man named Socrates and his silent companion moved toward the beast, who had ceased his jig and was now staring after the retreating group.

"Return! Return to us! Give us flesh! Give us flesh! Anlee needs it!" Red lightning flashed across the sky, and the beast let out a terrible scream. It began crawling toward Sqyd and the others, but was sent hurtling backward as Socrates pointed two fingers at it, and a wave of sizzling energy washed over the abomination.

"Stay back, demon! You know you have no place here! Your powers are nothing!" Socrates shouted.

To accentuate that point, Socrates' companion pointed his weapon at the beast and fired again, boring a hole in the monster's chest. It screamed and wriggled around on the ground for several moments.

"They should be able to scare it off. It'll take them a while though, and being around that much magic...it don't do a body good," Heracles said to Sqyd. "Come on."

And so they continued running. Sqyd looked back at O'Lantern and shook his head.

"I really, really hope this is just a drug induced hallucination. Because if it's not, I think I'll piss myself."

 

[Ragamoofin]

Initially smiling at Kelkov, the cheery expression Anselle wore didn't fade even when the smooth man had snatched his hand back as if Anselle's touch was as dangerous as the darkling. He wasn't upset by the reaction; he'd actually been expecting it. Brow falling a bit, Anselle's smile turned toothy, the space between the front of his teeth showing in his bashful grin. "Ah, sorry about that," he apologized, drawing his hands away from Kelkov, lest he bother him again. The man seemed focused on their guide, and that's all that mattered to Anselle.

Hands sinking into his sleeves, they were all but hidden as Anselle began to walk off towards the city. They'd been standing around long enough, it was high time they found out just what was going on and why. This Chaplain had a lot of explaining to do, but perhaps there was a reason to their circumstances. Only time would tell, and Anselle was beginning to feel just a tad impatient.

Eyes falling onto the aquatic, mouthy one among them, Anselle watched with fascination as he attempted an attack on the darkling on his own. It went about as well as one could expect. The projectiles from the weapons he wielded were as effective as his fireball had been. Strange, he thought. Despite the darkling tearing away it's dark shroud, it was as durable as ever. Anselle was beginning to think not only was magic limited in the realm, but their ability to truly harm. That, in all honesty, would've been a good thing if not for the possibility of more of the creatures coming after them.

All questions for the Chaplain, Anselle imagined.

Walk turning into a brisk jog, Anselle let his eyes wander over the structures of the city, the pace of their guide not letting him take as close a look as he would hope. If they were going to be in the city for some time, Anselle made a mental note to come back and observe it with a keener eye. Who knew what kind of magic he could whip up? That crimson lightning had caught his eye, and while it was beyond foolish to try to create a rune with such a volatile element, Anselle couldn't resist the urge to try.

"All in due time," Anselle spoke to himself, a sly smile on his face. "All in due time..."

 

[Moogle-Girl]

The Chaplain wasn't one to give things out like that? Kelkov shot Heracles an incredulous look. How did he know the Chaplain wasn't the reason they'd all been sent to this beach? He would've straight-up said that, but it seemed like a bad idea to antagonize the white-robes since they were the only ones capable of fighting off An-- well, the creature. It looked like when they said it couldn't hurt them, what they really meant was they would keep it from doing so.

While the group headed into the city, where some of the others seemed focused on the architecture, Kelkov took the opportunity to sum up what he knew about the people. Analyzing them made him feel like he had some semblance of control over the situation. One at a time...

Pumpkinhead. Real name "O'Lantern." Polite. Brave. Not the best fighter of the bunch, but not ineffective either. Seemed concerned about the others more than himself. Possibly the type to sacrifice himself for a noble cause.

The squid man. He'd be Salty. Mentioned a Church, but it seemed unrelated to where they were if all of them were clueless. A bit aggressive. Fearful. Could be a liability.

Woolly. Thinking back, he'd said his name was Anselle, right? Unused to alien life, possibly new things in general. Actions got ahead of his brain sometimes, though he was hungry for answers. Powerful mage, assuming he was having as much trouble with magic as Kelkov. Strong ally.

Titty-- PINKY. Pinky. Didn't care about the group. Kind of cute. Worth learning more about if Kelkov got the chance.

Jet. Kelkov couldn't bring himself to give her a nickname. She kind of scared him. Had some power that let her read his mind or see his soul or something, and from a distance. A force to be reckoned with.

Heracles. No nickname for him either; he looked like he could squash Kelkov's head like a grape. Seemed loyal to the Chaplain. A potential obstacle to getting home.

Dusty. Real name "Socrates." Old, no weapon. Insisted the shadow couldn't hurt them. Powerful magic, unchained by whatever was affecting Kelkov and Anselle. A bit overbearing. Got on Kelkov's nerves.

White-robe Number 3. Mostly quiet so far. Blasted the darkness with light earlier. Might be around for muscle. Worth keeping an eye on.

And then there was the Chaplain. Had some authority over this place. Sounded like a real stick in the mud, and their biggest obstacle to getting home. Great.

 

[Jack Robinson]

GM POST

You flee into the city, led by Heracles, the four legged warrior. Behind you, you hear the screams of the beast as Socrates and his mysterious companion batter the abomination with powerful magic. Red lightning flashes across the sky, and you feel a wave of empty coldness wash over you. You have escaped the monster this time. But he has certainly left an impact on you.

The city is apparently on lockdown due to the presence of the demonic apparition on the shore. The streets are lined with gigantic mechanical humanoids and dozens of smaller individuals, some of whom are much less humanoid than others. All are in white. All wield strange weapons.

The buildings, of course, are beautiful, and yet unnerving. They are all white. Some are traditionally built, while others float, are nearly invisible, or simply defy the laws of physics in ways you never thought possible. The streets are paved with cobblestone. You see no motorized vehicles, no spacecraft, not even any animals for transportation. The only lifeforms you see are soldiers.

"The CAESAR units are out," Heracles says, pointing out the giant robots, "The Chaplain must be anxious." There is a surprising undertone of fear to Heracles' voice, but you don't truly have time to ponder it, as he is moving quite quickly on his four legs, and you have to almost run to keep up with him. You twist and turn down roads and such, and marvel at the sheer size of the military presence.

"Don't worry," Heracles says, "We're almost to the Observatory. The beast can't enter the Observatory, even if he does manage to get past Socrates and Gadreel." Heracles snorts, and you can imagine him smiling behind his great helmet. "Which won't happen. Socrates and Gadreel are the mightiest warriors in the entire realm. Besides me, of course."

You turn a corner, and see a great hill lined with beautiful and exotic plants. A shimmering pearly gate encircles the perimeter of the hill. A dozen CAESAR units stand outside the gate. And on the top of the hill is a spherical building that dominates the hill and almost seems to float above it. Its architecture seems impossible, and yet it works. It's an awesome building, and you can barely process it.

"That's the Observatory," Heracles says, "That's where the Chaplain lives."