Legend of Renalta 2: Reborn

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Imperium Exit~Gremlock​


As the group exited the dungeon, Gremlock heard a familiar and satisfying "Boom!" as water, or possibly blood, flooded into the place. Sure there were a lot of valuable relics lost to the sea now, but at least some catastrophe somewhere may have been delayed.

For the time being though, the group was picked up by a slightly larger boat than had taken them to the dungeon in the first place. A good thing in Gremlock's eyes, as he now had a place to start more experiments and the like. He had to keep the experiments to a minimum, so as to not risk blowing up the ship, but still.

In the midst of experimenting, his mind drifted to other topics. Namely, why was he still here? He had very narrowly escaped death, and surely there were quicker ways of figuring out how to make his mana potions marketable. His main need for the Queen's Blades and their resources was to fast track to a method of replicating mana to put into the potions without using his own. Well, that and helping to stop the demon threat before they ended the market.

It was then that he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Florence taking a look at the Eternal Soul Gem, the prize of their recent spelunking. The gem glowed with a subtle, but tremendous power of mana. Suddenly, a thought popped into Gremlock's head. He pondered it for some time, and he came to the conclusion that there wasn't anything wrong with it.

Use the Eternal Soul Gem to fuel his mana potions...Well, okay not the Eternal Soul Gem itself obviously. He had an interest in not pissing off an entire nation of people after all. However, something like it, something just as powerful, could just be the answer he needed. It occurred to Gremlock that he had tried to break one of the laws of reality: You can't get something for nothing. In this case, the price was Gremlock's own mana, which had a lot of issues, not least of which being that if people didn't use the potion within a prescribed radius, Gremlock would never get the mana back. This proved to be a considerable supply issue. If instead he used a rock of power for the mana, all he had to do was find enough powerful stones and he'd have all the supply he needed!

The issue of course, was that he did not know anything powerful enough to do so. As he saw it, he could procure two sources. First, a powerful gem like the Eternal Soul Gem, would work nicely, but often came with it's own baggage, not least of which was people trying to kill you for such an item. Second, would be finding a bunch of smaller rocks, harvested from a quarry of some kind, to fill individual potion mana requirements with. This had more potential, but he had no idea whether such a thing existed. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he just did not know where to find either.

But he knew one place where he could find out...
Before the Diplomatic Union~Gremlock​


Renalta...a rather bustling city all things considered. In a day or two Gremlock heard some important people were going to get together to discuss foreign policy, likely in a setting similar to the ball. Before that happened though, he wanted to do some research in a place the city was known for, the Mages Guild. If anyone (besides Amanda) would know anything about a source of small magical stones, it would be them. Of course, if that effort proved fruitless he could always pick a never-found artifact and go for that.

Unfortunately, it turned out that the Mages Guild was closed that day, due to preparations for the Diplomatic Union. At least, that's what Gremlock thought anyway. He would have to try again later, perhaps after the next mission.

It was then that he ran into what seemed to be some kind of Imperial scout. Before Gremlock could even say anything, a letter was dropped into his pocket, and the scout was gone. Inside the envelope, there was a short letter by...the Eternal Empress? He turned the letter upside down to get the letter out, but a small, purple gem also came out and bounced along the ground. When he picked it up, he noticed that it was one of the artifacts that had been taken out of the dungeon before it had been sunk. The letter itself describe the gem as Sherkle's Gem, an old artifact that, when thrown at an incoming attack, provided it was not some kind of magic, would block the gem. The gem, however would heat up, so it could not be used until it had cooled down. Delighted by his find, he pocketed the gem, and headed back to his quarters to work on his projects.

Diplomatic Union~Gremlock​


Gremlock was a latecomer to the Union that day, mostly deciding that the whole diplomatic nonsense wasn't likely to get him anywhere, like what happened at the ball. Still, he had to show up to place his votes for the upcoming missions. Tuleria seemed like a sure bet to win the voting, so he did not bother to vote for that. Instead, he made a more emotional decision, deciding to see through his Imperium contribution. Not only would it make a great market, but the ones in charge would most likely help with any artifact finding he needed to do.

Boy how wrong he was there.

Kouri...well to say she was incensed at some of the choices made was a severe understatement. Apparently the Imperium, Underdark, and, most bafflingly, the Tuleria mission were tied. Even more surprising, the random draw would have meant that Tuleria would have been abandoned. Her glare at some of the Blades made it clear that she blamed those who had taken the former missions for the discrepancy.

Gremlock felt rather stupid at this point. Here he was trying to take a mission while ignoring his duty and the country most likely to be able to send his business abroad in the distant future! He briefly considered going to Kouri and apologizing by asking for a transfer to Tuleria, but her look suggested that was more likely to end in a Goblin Barbeque than in an actual atonement. Reluctantly he held his peace; he was going to have to make it up to Tuleria at a later point.

Imperium + Amazons~Doctor Gremlock​

The journey seemed to take forever in Gremlock's eyes. The whole trip had been nothing but dense, hot jungle, and mosquitoes everywhere; getting into his potions, biting him, and making him itch all the way down. He barely noticed when they picked up their guide, and had been too distracted by the rashes caused by the bugs to take more than a cursory glance at the scenery. The only thing that he had noticed was the waterfall of blood. It was strange in a way. So many years, and yet nobody had any sort of explanation for why the blood sea, and the rivers feeding into it, existed. Was there some giant monstrosity, somewhere, bleeding for so long that his blood pooled into the middle of the land? He thought about it some more, trying to puzzle out the mystery, but then drifted to other thoughts. Eventually, the group arrived at the temple, a rather large structure of stone. It was at this point that Gremlock took an inventory of his companions and equipment.

On the equipment side, he had his new mechanist rifle, tested in a closed environment, but never in the field. He was optimistic that it would be a huge success. In case it was not, he did have a couple of pistols on hand. He did not bring any ammo for them, because they were only really supposed to be emergency options. Gremlock had gotten the idea from a book he had read where pirates would often carry a few around their necks in order to swiftly take down adversaries. As for his potions, he brought two of his infamous Kaboom in a Bottles with him, but left the rest of his four potions empty, as he did not know what trials lurked in this forsaken place.

As for his companions, the most notable one was Veira, a sorceress of some power. While he appreciated her knack for magic, she seemed to despise Gremlock for some unfathomable reason. Gremlock thought that perhaps she was simply racist against goblins, and left it at that. Fahim was a truly unusual...thing. Frankly it fascinated Gremlock how Fahim could transform into different shapes. Then there was the sand elf Elrithos, whom he sympathized with. It must be quite hard to lose so many people to the demons like that, he thought. Sonia was also a mage, but one that seemed to rely on curses and other trickery that made Gremlock somewhat nervous, lest they for some reason be used against him. The last one, Morgay...Morgeen? Gremlock could not figure out the first name, so he stuck with Minstrol. Not that he regarded him highly, the thief might decide to steal his potions, or worse, his new Gem artifact, and Gremlock would never know. Overall, it seemed like an eclectic group, albeit one that did not seem to favor him.

With that figured out, he heard Fahim say "Be sure to grab one of the torches off the wall here. No sense being blind in case we are separated." Gremlock replied by taking one of the torches and saying "Sounds like good advice to me." Then he went into the temple with the others, hoping that whatever was in there would leave them alone.
 
Child had no problems riding a camel, she had been in the desert before after all. She held herself onto the back of the animal with ease as the deserts winds sung their lullabies. The spirits seemed rather tame at the moment, as if they had yet to recover from meeting the angel. The respite was much appreciated and Child made the most out of it. Infact, she made sure she was riding next to the amazon. She felt some trepedition about the conversation that was about to unfold. But put on a brave face behind her new, rather ghastly looking skull mask.

"Excuse me. Listener Umano?"

Unamo had be riding with her eyes closed, listening intently to the world around her with a smile and enjoying the feeling of the beating sun above her prior to hearing Child's greeting. Without opening her eyes, she perks her head up and straightens her back out, her smile fading to a look of mere tranquil contentment.

Her lips parted, though she hesitated to speak as she drew in a sharp breath: Something surprised her. "Child... The one who wears masks to cover ethereal faces..." Unamo opens her eyes, her blue eyes were friendly looking to Child, though one of the spirits near her would whisper distress at their sight. Whether it was for Child to be distressed, or that Unamo was distressed, was unintelligible to her. "How can I help you?"

"You can see them... Can't you? Or hear them at least? Child asked, a feeling of awe dawning on her" She was in the company of a kindred somehow. One that seemed to master her faith.

"Hints, whispers..." Unamo spoke softly, it was almost inaudible due to the sounds of the desert winds rolling past them. "Though I do know they are here, yes. I know they are drawn to you."

"I belonged to a sect. They thought they would bring the gods back. Instead they got the angry spirits. They never leave. Voices upon voices. A torrent." She grit her teeth. "They feel.. cheated of their own mortality."

"I see." Unamo states plainly as her eyes wander across the desert sands. "Interesting." She taps her lip, eyes still wandering over the sands in contemplation. Her index finger falters from her lips, down her chin, before her hand curls into a soft fist as a small smile appears. "Spirits were bound to you, and you seek my help... An accurate description, correct?"

"Correct, Speaker. Guidence. I've known their presence my entire life." Her voice was strong, carrying over the wind in a attemp to defy nature itself. " Yet I never had a teacher, someone to explain or show me how to control it. How to ease the the burden, if only temporarily." She smiled a crooked smile. "I am afraid, It will one day fall a straw on me. And it will break my back, like it would this camel that I ride."

Unamo's eyes moved away from the sands of the desert to follow an invisible spirit within the air. It didn't take long for the spirit to notice her and hesitate. Unamo's small smile remained as she motioned it closer, and it complied, quietly. Child would recognize the spirit as the one that had whispered of distress.

"Temporarily," Unamo says softly as her blue eyes looked over the now visible spirit, a loose green outline defined the small girl's features. Gently, she caresses the girl's cheek, then runs her fingers underneath the girl's chin. "... I can teach you far more than temporary." Her smile suddenly fades to a neutral expression as her hand wraps around the girl's throat. Her eyes narrow as she glares at the girl, who was unable to look away as she dissipated into nothingness, fading away like particles of sand across the desert. "I can teach you ways to control when they may speak, and how to dismiss them. You are... My people would call you a Speaker of the Dead. Spirits are bound to your mortal shell... Control is achievable, for those who desire it... I would be more than happy to teach it to you." Her smile returns as she looks at Child, though her eyes revealed nothing underneath.

Childs instincts told her to defend herself at the sudden turn of events but she fought them down. Her eyes wide she spoke with a voice she did not recognize. "I desire it." Her voice seemed clearer, far less sullen and weighted down. Like for the first time in her miserable life, there was something good. "If you speak, I will listen. If you teach, I will learn. I will master it. I will take back my fate."

"Good." Unamo states plainly as she looks back out at the desert. "Enjoy what is real then. Enjoy the warmth on your skin... I will teach you later."

"As you say. Honored Speaker"

"Listener." Unamo corrects as she raises a finger lazily. "I am a Listener, not a Speaker... And... I am..." She hesitates, her shoulders drop as she sighs. "... Nevermind, enjoy the sun while it lasts. We are going somewhere very dark soon."

"My.. Apologies" Child actually fidgeted with her reigns. A strange feeling now settling over her. She saw something akin to light, and a rare sensation now took hold of her. Hope.
 
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Archaeologist Minstrol and the Dream of an Empire​

Seated comfortably in the center of the group so as to not be stabbed from the back or front, Minstrol kept a nervous eye on the thicker foliage clusters. The trees loomed and arched over, vines loosely spanning from trunk to trunk. Veridian flowers, snapping plants, and oozing pustules erupting from some bulbous spotted flower; all those things of nature born in the fervor of some nature Gods' horrific whim. His domain was toxins and death. Ancient cruelty made manifest in the buzzing of disease ridden insects. Some said that of the desert of the Free Holds, but there you could follow the stars. You could drink water you found and rarely die of some strange sickness that left your eyes crying blood and your fingernails blackened. The vast sands were hostile and fair. Years of cruelty and the dark below the canopies had made the creatures here in the jungle hard, cruel, and merciless.

Needless to say, Minstrol hated it. She expressed this loudly, consistently, most often when a bird erupted from a giant fern leaf or the bush rustled from the approach of some curious predator. "No wonder the Amazonians can't be assed to be civilized, they have all this to worry about." she thought.

When they finally arrived to the giant dragon skull incredulously. Was that real blood? "You're all seeing this right? I can't actually believe it." she said. Then the monstrous skull molded into the temple, one structure of strange make and esoteric purpose. It stood in absolute solidarity, holding darkness within and welcoming no visitors. Minstrol swore she could feel its purpose, its greatness, but that was more a touch of the jungle color getting to her.

Awestruck, she barely noticed that Fahim mentioned that there was something inside the temple. She was startled back into awareness when the other witch released pulsating orbs of light. They descended into the long dark of this forbidden structure and when Fahim suggested they grabbed the honest to goodness glowing red torches, she almost said no, Fahim, those could be cursed, they could be booby trapped. She thought better of it and just grabbed one, mumbling about Kouri and dirty work. The way the light cast upon the soil littered earth looked a lot like hell-light.
 
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The Imperial/Amazon Mission – Elrithos
​

Queen's Blade Item Chosen: Treated Blood Vial
The Elvish Messiah aid: None

Extra equipment brought:
Large Scroll Case
Extra waterskin​
​
The jungle. The life that this region of the world had was far beyond anything he had seen within the dunes of the desert. The ground was covered in lively colored flora which he had never witnessed before. The wild animals that roamed between the canopy and the trees were so active. This was a sight to behold for the nomadic warrior of the desert. There was a certain fascination for these new areas that he would visit with the Queen's blade and it showed on his face and where his eyes darted around to. Their trip to the temple had been quite an invigorating one.

The guide had been quite a capable woman to bring us up to here. He didn't know if she was simply that she knew these places in and out or if she could hear around, but she had done great to get them to their destination. The first noticeable feature of their environment was the waterfall of blood. Elrithos initially froze to the horrifying at it… Was it truly blood? Closer examination wasn't something he considered even remotely. Instead, he shook it off and moved forth.

Once they had actually come close to the structure, the nomad could only stare wide-eyed at the skull that engulfed their destination. It was a true architectural master piece. The thing was intimidating and nearly frightening at first. Even if the thing remained nothing more than a gigantic skull, it still left an odd lingering fear inn his soul.

Elrithos looked to the shape shifter as he mentioned of a thing moving inside from their arrival. There would be something hunting them down in those hallways and walls. They'd have to stay alert for many things, even possible traps. This would require some good coordination and communication so that everyone goes through smoothly. The mage followed up by summoning or of fiery light and sent them to scout ahead. Smart use of the arcane arts, he was actually quite impressed.

"I will take the lead. Fahim, if I may request you keep trying to pinpoint the movement within the walls and keep us informed, I think it would be for the best." He spoke with the thick accent of his people, still adjusting to all of this. "I believe the rest of you know what you can do. I'll stay in front." He said as he reached for a torch… His sight suddenly changed and became more… efficient? It was hard to explain as everything was clear to him… He turned over to the lady with the charms, knowing she had capabilities in the arcane art too. He nodded to her, a small gesture of thanks for the moment being.

Elrithos took the front of the group, his eyes opened for anything that might want to get to them, rather it be traps, collapsing ceiling or floors, movement and so on.
 
"You're brilliant, and I know you can do it again. I have the utmost faith in you, and in the good that the angel has abandoned, that you can do it again. Take another shot, adjust for the winds, and hit that jerk where the sun don't shine!" -Draza, Page 4.

Kingdom of Renalta - Heart of Madness​

Abjaar uses his vial of blood, and after a few moments of anticipation, an ethereal wolf appears. The wolf looks up at Abjaar, his upper lip forms into an irritated snarl. "You want a guide, ehhh? You want me to lead you around the swamp, ehhh?... You're my grandson! You hadn't had the sense to pack a map?!" Mikan blinks as she points at the map each of them had. "Oh! Well, didn't you at least pack an animal that can tell where these time distortion bubbles are?!" Mikan motions to the ferret in her arms, which licked her left arm twice before nipping it randomly. The wolf's eye twitches. "My grandson is an idiot then." Mikan shrugs, and looks at Abjaar. "Enjoy your family reunion, kiddo." With a giggle, the woman dashes off into the swamp. The wolf starts moving into the swamp, looking up at Abjaar. "Please tell me you've at least made that woman your slut. Surely you wouldn't let her talk to you like that otherwise..."

Mikan nods in response to Zin, flashing a flirtatious and reassuring look before she quickly follows after Murderok and Cennick, looking between them as they make comments about steak. "You'll save me some too, I hope! Nice steak is hard to come by nowadays."

The interior of the swamp quickly grew darker and muggier. Looking around the interior of the swamp, Mikan wrinkles her nose in disgust. Eric Vadlegarf sticks close to Zin, grasping his crossbow tightly as he remained highly alert of any trouble that might appear. A few times they spotted various animals, some were as common as could be, and others were totally unrecognizable and nameless. Occasionally, the wolf guide or the ferret in Mikan's arms would react to something in their path, and letting the ferret go, he would lead them around time distortion bubbles before leading them back to the small path they were traveling on and leaping back into Mikan's arms.

Reaching the end of the dirt path laid out for them, Mikan looked out into the swamp. A fog had started to roll in, but Abjaar's ethereal wolf growled as it looked eastward. "I smell orcs... Some humans too. Is that what you're looking for?" Mikan looks at him and nods. Putting the ferret down, she pats him lightly on the head and then looks back to the others as she slips her hood on. "I will lead the way. Follow quietly." Proceeding ahead into the fog, her form was barely visible as it darted between trees, tall grass, shrubbery, and other such plant life through knee-high, muddy water. It didn't take long to see through the fog, the entrance of an old temple. The temple had a pyramid shape to it, with strange carvings of primitive non-human creatures etched on the sides. It was impossible to discern what they were at the distance they were looking at the temple from however.

Fifty feet away, three figures were standing guard outside what was presumable the entrance of the temple. They stood perfectly still, and it was impossible to discern their armament through the fog. There was little in the way of cover between the temple and the treeline which Mikan had led the group to, leaving a large, open space to attempt to charge across. Still, it seemed like there was a few options. Eric loads a crossbow bolt and raises it, taking aim at one of the three figures before Mikan shoves his crossbow down and motions for quiet. "I have a clear shot! Just let me take it." Eric complains quietly. Mikan looks back at the group. "Murderok, Eric, I trust you both to hit your targets, but there are two of you, and three of them. I could slip to the side with Cennick, having Zin use her illusion abilities to keep Cennick out of their sight. You'd be able to see us approach and hit a third target from afar while we hit two of them up close." Mikan looks around at them. "Unless none of you care for a stealth approach or have a better idea... I'd be really open to one."

Imperium/Amazons - The Dream of Empire​

With Elrithos leading, he would clearly be able to see several hundred steps down a tight spiral staircase lead to a large, open chamber. Where one would expect decorations, the walls were fairly barren, uniform in aesthetic almost. Reaching the large chamber, a quick look around would reveal several passages leading in every direction. Before they could figure out which way to go, Veira flinches and looks towards the southern passages. "Not that way dearies." She says as she rubs her ribs gingerly. While the magician didn't appear injured, Sonia and Gremlock would be able to detect that she suffered feedback of some sort, likely from a spell being suddenly and violently dispelled. Fahim looks at her with an inquisitive expression and she smiles widely. "Spikes, acid, death traps, and collapsed passages... Lots of terrible things, truly. It also seems as though many of these passageways are simply interconnected, like a spiderweb of catacombs. Truly a marvel of engineering, and if this place was fully staffed, I would imagine quite defensible."

Fahim looks around at the passages and scratches his head in slight confusion. "Twenty four passageways? Why twenty four? Six passageways in each direction... The ones heading west would lead us back in the direction of the waterfall of blood." Veira looks at the passages east and north and sighs with dismay. Rashan, who had been silently searching the room the whole time, stumbles backward as she stepped on a trigger plate close to the stairs. A few ancient gears beneath their feet groan to life, and an apparition appears. All the mages in the room would immediately recognize it to be a form of illusion magic, though it was ancient, and made in a confusing manner: It wasn't drawing on the magic in the air. It appeared to be generating its own magic, something which was extremely difficult to do as a mage.

The apparition was that of a woman in an Imperial outfit, though from the looks of her, she had Amazonian ancestry. Rashan cautiously reaches out to it, though her hand simply passes through the apparition. Upon doing so, she stumbles backward and she speaks in a foreign tongue. It appeared confused by their appearance. "Quis? Quid? Quam ob causam?" Veira smiles widely as she waves both of her wands. A small white glowing ball appears, floating near the confused apparition. "Speak again!" Veira says cheerfully. "Who? What? For what purpose?" It repeats, now speaking the common tongue. It looked expectantly at Rashan for an answer, though Rashan pointed towards the Queen's Blades. The apparition looks at the Queen's Blades, tilting its head inquisitively. Fahim glances at the Queen's Blades. "It may not know how much time has passed... Be careful what you say."

Kingdom of Liveria - Ancestral Bonds​

With the group ready to go, the Liverian witch hunter which briefed them grabs a crossbow and fires a blue bolt into the air. About a minute later, the group would hear a series of loud howls emanate from the nearby valley: Now was their chance! Zoe and Gabriel lead the way, bolting off on foot up the large hill between them and the cavern system. Zoe looked back at Elrbetrt on horseback and shook her head, confused with the woman, but leaving her fate in her hands. Princess Helénē was following on foot, moving at a surprising pace given her gentle upbringing. She made sure to remain in the middle of the group, between Rayvon and Kasim. Upon reaching the mouth of the cavern, two orc guards were on lookout and hadn't turned away from their duty to join in the violent mob in the valley below. Just as they noticed Gabriel Zoe crest the hill, Zoe slides through the dirt and pulls her large crossbow up. To her, it was a satisfying noise as the bolt whistled from her crossbow and impaled one of the orcs to the wall. Helénē on the other hand felt her face pale at the sight of death once more.

Before the other orc guard could yell for help, he was lifted into the air by a mysterious energy. There was an invisible grip around his throat, being exerted by Shaman Molkar as he stepped out of the dark mouth of the cavern system. He bashes the orc's skull against the rocky wall a few times until there was nothing left but a bloody, unrecognizable stump, before dropping the corpse unceremoniously on the ground. "Orc." Zoe muttered with distrust, though she bowed her head respectfully. "Liverian." Shaman Molkar replied. He motions for them to enter the cavern system quickly. "I will have two of my orcs replace these guards." Helénē stops and looks up at the Shaman. The disdain she once had for him was not present in the way she addressed him now. "Won't there be questions about the blood?" The shaman laughs and shakes his head. "We are orcs. Blood on the walls just means we live here." Helénē grimaces, and enters the cavern system quickly with Gabriel at her side.

Once inside it took most of the Queen's Blades a minute or so for their eyes to adjust to the dimly lit cavern system. There was already a fork in their path a few feet into the cavern system: Left, or right. The left path looked better lit, meaning it would likely take them straight to the central chambers, though it would also be harder to hide and present greater risk with encountering larger groups of better equipped orcs. The right path was barely lit at all, though there was a great deal of blood smeared on the floors and walls, implying that it still held some importance to them. The cavern system had many interconnecting chambers and passageways, likely meaning that both paths would lead to the central chambers, though there was still the risk that the right path would lead them on several detours before getting there, and the distraction in the nearby valley wouldn't last forever.

Gabriel inhales the scent of old blood, his golden eyes looking back to the Queen's Blades. "We should use the left corridor and move quickly. I have faith we can overpower these orcs, especially since a few will belong to Shaman Molkar's clan, and thus will be loyal to us instead of their compatriots. There should also be Liverian farmers and merchants inside--innocents we can spare from a pack of enraged orcs, if we act now." Zoe shakes her head and walks over to Gabriel. He stood nearly a full foot over her, and yet she was not intimidated as she looked up at him through her mask. "You place faith in orcs? The same orcs that, less than a week ago, wished to rape and murder the Queen's Blades they first encountered? My, but that you're a foolish optimist." Gabriel's eyes narrow to a judgmental glare as he looks down on the assassin before himself, his tone growing to have an unsettling chill to it. "And I suppose the word of an assassin is any better? What would you have us do, risk the dimly lit passage that may lead us nowhere, while the Shaman's men die in the valley below?" Zoe scoffs and shakes her head. "They are dying to buy us time. Whether a fraction of them die, or all of them die, is irrelevant, and the Orc leading them is aware of this. He is the one who chose to sacrifice them because he knows the same as I that their individual lives are meaningless in the face of success. What we should do is maximize our odds of success so that their sacrifices, few or many, are not in vain..."

Zoe motions towards Elrbetrt's horse. "All we have to do is set a trap using the horse to make noise. Orcs keep horses in stock as a meat surplus. If they think one of theirs escaped, they will send a small group to retrieve it before it can escape. Therefore, we can lead them right here, ambush them, and kill all but the best equipped one for questioning, at minimal risk to ourselves." Helénē raises her hand slowly, and Zoe bows her head to defer authority to the princess. "So... Why did we kill the guards outside if we need information?" Zoe sighs and scratches the back of her head. "It is hard to deal a non-lethal blow with a crossbow as large as mine, and when an orc starts killing someone... They... Don't stop." The corners of Helénē's lips drop, as does her heart, upon the realization of what Zoe just stated. "So we blew the easiest way to get information. That is what you are telling me, right now. That now, we have to find and murder more orcs just to get information." Zoe's voice turns unusually humble as she goes down onto one knee. "I apologize, but I am a mere assassin. I only know how to take life, and it appears I was too efficient in my task, princess..." It almost seemed she wished to add more, but was unable.

Princess Helénē looks to the Queen's Blades and smiles, remaining calm, though there was a look of concern in her eyes as she looked at Kasim in particular. "What do all of you think? I defer to your collective expertise." Gabriel looks between the members of the group, and makes a final plea for his case. "Think of how much better we can make our case if we move to spare as many of Molkar's men as possible, and the prisoners we could save... Let's be ethical here." Zoe, too, makes a final plea for her case as she returns to her feet and brushes off her knees. "Think of Princess Helénē. It will be much safer for her if we lure the orcs to us, rather than rush them head on. Besides, there is no guarantee we'll even encounter any of the chambers prisoners are being held in..." Zoe looks up at Gabriel once more and crosses her arms. "Let's be rational instead."

Goblin Holds - Antiqua Scientiam​

Unamo was the last one to place her feet on the cold surface beneath her feet. Much to her surprise, it was metallic in origin. The entire area was very dark, and it was difficult to see with the limited amount of light filtering in from the hole in the ceiling of what was likely an extremely large, cavernous space. How it hadn't collapsed in on itself was, thus far, a mystery. Around her waist was a belt with various pouches, and in one pouch she pulls out a small bit of black powder. Motioning her hands over the black powder, it starts to have a light green glow to it as she starts murmuring an incantation quietly.

Nyla, on the other hand, was tapping her foot on the floor at various spots, amazed that it was all metallic. Looking back in the direction of Aslo and then Daevon as they each spoke, she sighs and rubs her left arm with her right hand awkwardly. "I'm sorry, I am not much of a diplomat... Just... The Imperium managed to bring order and civilization to uncivilized forests in ten years. To see another people be so backward and paranoid in their liberation is... Saddening. It makes me wish the dream of empire could seed itself in this place, too." Suddenly and without warning, the gunpowder bursts into green flames for a few seconds. A spirit erupts from the ashes, a small girl blinks and smiles. It was the same small girl that Unamo had banished from Child's sight before. Unamo smiles back. "Light up our world now, and I will send you to where your parents wait for you later." The little girl's face lights up with joy as she flies several feet in the air and starts projecting a pale green light across the area. For a couple hundred feet in each direction, the area became clear in various green hues.

Nyla's knees grow weak at the sight around herself. Unamo gasps in shock.

The group was standing in a small plaza, about fifty square feet in size, made out of solid steel and other, unknown metals. To the north was a field of hundreds of broken down golems, all inoperable, but all made out of metal: Some out of iron, some out of steel. There was more refined scrap metal in a single field than perhaps throughout the entirety of the Goblin Holds. The east, west, and south sections were metallic huts of designs that were completely alien, being comprised of near-perfect squares, triangles, and cones. It looked like a city made by a mathematician, rather than an engineer, and yet somehow, all these structures remained standing and in solid condition.

Before they could all celebrate their find however, Nyla would perk up and look wide eyed southward, in the air. Everyone else would start to hear a whistling sound... "GET DOWN!" Nyla yells as she slings her shield onto her back and then tackles Aslo to the metallic floor. Daevon's servant protects Daevon with his body as well, though he obviously couldn't tackle his master to the ground. Fafnir ends up being appropriately positioned to cover Maeven from danger. Child is able to duck for cover in time, having the reflexes to manage it. Esyllt Boudica is also able to duck for cover in time, though having a shield aids in her defense.

An explosive shell, akin to a mortar shell, explodes as it strikes the center of the plaza. Shrapnel erupts from the explosive, flying in every direction. Daeven's servant ends up with a chunk of metal through his chest roughly the size of his fist, and he falls dead instantly. Fafnir takes hits, but they do nothing but amuse him. Nyla's shield takes hits, but is able to deflect the shrapnel away, preventing both herself and Aslo from taking wounds. Esyllt is hit, but the shrapnel only causes minor cuts that bleed superficially.

Unamo, though she tried to avoid it as she leaped backward, would have been struck directly. Everyone, thanks to her light, would have a clear view of seeing several pieces of shrapnel head her way. Unable to use most of her magic instantly, she instead balls up to protect her head and torso. Shrapnel whips past her, and one piece ends up embedding itself deeply into her left leg, into her thigh. Another piece tears open her left knee, leaving a deep wound that was bleeding severely, immediately. Sliding backward against the metallic surface, she ends up staining it in her own blood.

Nyla rolls off Aslo in time to hear Unamo scream in pain. Aslo and Esyllt would be able to hear Nyla mutter to herself. "Never light up your position to the enemy, damnable woman." She runs over to Unamo and motions to the lit-up ghost in the sky. "Make that travel northward! NOW! We're heading east, down into an alleyway, where siege equipment can't hit us directly! Once we're there, try to summon it back silently, and with much less light!" Unamo nods as she motions for the spirit to fly North. Nyla then motions to a nearby alleyway to the east, deeper into the Mechanist city, as she starts dragging Unamo to the east. It seemed that their exploration of the city was going to be delayed briefly, but at least they confirmed one thing.

The enemy is present, and has a terrifying weapon.

Kingdom of Tuleria - Unto the Breach​

Players

Within the tunnel, Quar noticed Aëyr staying close to him, and he smiled warmly as a result. He grew closer to her as well, and absent minded looked around the tunnel with a surprisingly relaxed look on his face: He was ready for the fight, or at the very least he gave the impression that he was. Otto, on the other hand, appeared quite uncomfortable in the sand tunnel as he attempted to keep his distance from the magicians inside. His large form seemed almost intimidated by the sand around him. Quar chuckled and looked at Otto with a mischievous grin. "Scared, Templar?" Otto shoots a glare in his direction and growls, though before he could respond, something happened.

Something big.

The ground shook around them as the muffled sounds of several nearby explosions rocked through the sand, causing a few particles to rain down on the group from above and causing the buccaneer magicians upholding the tunnel to flinch. Otto looks between them as Quar blinks, his brave facade quickly melting as his eyes open widely: His staff had a slight, pale green glow to it as a reaction to his emotional state. "Explosives..." Quar mutters as Otto rolls his eyes. "No shit, witch. Tulerians use cannons on the battlefield, do you not remember this?" The elf had a look of momentary irritation, though he put it aside as he continues moving with his chin up. The templar raised an eyebrow at the sight. "Imperial posturing doesn't suit you."

Quar leaves that comment alone as well as the tunnel starts taking an upward curve. Progressing up the incline for a minute or so, the sand suddenly gives way to a bright light. The young man with dark skin grins as he bolts forward, sword unsheathed. Otto grabs him by the arm and pulls him violent back and aside as a man-sized spear flies through into the sand cavern and rips through one of the casters keeping the tunnel open at the rear. His torso flies past Arkos as he narrowly avoids being buried by the back of the sand tunnel collapsing. While he avoided it, two of the buccaneers did not. Their last breath was spent screaming for the Queen's Blades to save them.

Otto glares at the young black man as he shakes, eyes wide open, sweat rolling from his brow. "Your name, what is it?" He looks back up at Otto. "M-Mas'ud Campos." Otto nods thoughtfully. "Never go first." Otto looks to Quar and motions to the Queen's Blades. Looking at the Buccaneers he motions them down. A second man-sized spear comes flying into the sand tunnel, this time flying overhead as Otto then bursts into a charge, silently leading the handful of Buccaneers out onto the surface. Quar takes a deep breath as Otto departs from the sand tunnel and closes his eyes. The light glow his staff had grows a little as vines sprout out from it and cover his body head-to-toe. "Mère Nature entend mon appel. (Mother Nature hears my call.)" He grips his staff tightly and looks to the Queen's Blades, likely awaiting instructions as he was told to do by Otto.

The moment the Queen's Blades leave the tunnel, they would find it collapse behind them as the three remaining magic buccaneers among them would focus their attention on the fight instead of keeping it open. They had emerged out of the side of a dune, approximately twenty feet above the small valley of sand in which the buccaneers and demons were engaged. It was about fifteen buccaneers against eighteen humanoid demons in melee, with two demon commanders apparent: A pair of lithe looking women, with pale skin. They looked to be vampires, though corrupted with demon energies. The moment the Queen's Blades appear they both lick their lips. One summons a dark red staff that throbbed with power, while the other pulls out a pair of daggers and turns invisible, the only thing revealing her presence being footsteps in the sand that were hard to keep track of...

The corrupted vampire with the staff--located on the opposite side of the skirmish between herself and the Queen's Blades--seemed to be preparing a spell of some sort...

The corrupted vampire with the daggers was hard to keep track of, it would take dedicated searching to find her before she got the jump on someone.

It was quickly apparent that the only thing keeping the demons fighting there was their commanders: Killing one of them would cause despair, and both would make them break and run. Arkos and Yuri would both feel the demon portal across two large sand dunes, though the demon patrol they were facing was between them and their target...

Army

The Demon forces and the Tulerian army have engaged each other, though neither side has yet to press an advantage. The cannon barrage has left the demons unaware of the small force moving for their gateway to the Nine Hells, save for a disconnected patrol that is unable to alert the greater force in time, assuming the Queen's Blades are prompt...
 
Draza
Liveria, Ancestral Bonds​
Well this sure took the butter out of her biscuits. It had barely been a moment and already their noble intentions were ruined, and there were doubts strewn into the mix on how to proceed. Do they venture forth, astride the conflict like heroes, or did they fight like soldiers?

Draza, in her time, had known many of both and could understand the draw of either, and so she spoke up, "I have seen a man no more trained with the strings of his weapon than I of my lute, stand, fight, and with such valour placate a foe so that it could be felled by another in pleasant company," she said, her eyes going to Kasim. "I have faith that if we move forward with such valour we can do as Gabriel suggests. Moving swift, and overpowering; with insurgents of allied clans within their ranks, we could take them before they have chance to rally and act."

She placed her lute away with a hand, and rubbed at her temple with the other, "Yet, Zoe, you are right; your way will be safer for the time, but I disagree that it's the better way. It appears to have similar risks for failure, yet not so well a reward. An early, safe, victory now pays in sum a harder battle later. I'd rather we do our harder battle while we are at fuller strength, than tarry on treading lightly and delay hardships and salvation. My word," she said, finally turning to look directly at the princess, taking in to herself a slow breath, "My word, Princess Helénē, is that the better part of valour be not discretion when there is more to save; Zoe's tactic is well, yet Gabriel's greater still."[/hr]
 
Imperium / Amazons
Sonia
​
The silence which followed was only brief but already Sonia feared it had lasted too long. The longer it took their response to come the less genuine it may appear to the apparition. Yet Sonia could think of no words to say beyond the truth. She knew some of Imperium history and maybe drawing on what little sources she had she could speak reason.

"Intermediaries," She said plainly as she moved the torch across her face. She considered the spectral agent, the dim light bouncing off the floor and passing through the spirit to the stone behind. "You are not of the flesh, so time to you may stand in pause, but years have passed and the kingdom which once stood as one now stands as three. We wish to remind people where their ancestors set their borders and unify the pieces. A darkness looms and across the world men stand divided, but somewhere within this temple are documents which can bring peace to men so that we might bring war to evil. We are tasked to recover those documents unblemished."

Sonia's tone had been plain, a matter-of-fact tone she maintained all the while as she kept her eyes met with the spectral guard. Indeed, she had not tried to conceal time had passed or the kingdom for which the apparition served now lay in three pieces, but it was the truth of it. Besides, the apparition was clearly timeless and if it had a degree of free thought it must be able to entertain the notion that it could outlive those who created it. She looked to her companions with stoic eyes as her words trailed into the air.
 
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Protector Yuri
Tuleria, Unto the Breach​

Their goal was to close the demon's portal as quickly as possible, but at the same time, leaving the Tulerians and Otto would result in them being swarmed. It was clear the pale-skinned vampires - their corruption apparently protecting them from the sun's rays - were the main threats. One a mage, the other an assassin. A compromise between speed and battle would need to be made.

"Everyone," she said, addressing the other Blades, "We push straight through them to the creature with the staff, then continue to the portal." She paused a moment, recalling what she had gathered of her companions strengths. "Filomena and Toorg, you two go in front and provide the pushing power. Arkos and Quar, use your nature magic to run interference on our flanks, especially when we hit the melee. Aeyr, you keep an eye out for any ranged assailants, as well as the invisible creature. I'll take up the rear to stop it from picking off those without armour from behind."

Yuri hefted her shield and drew her sword. Deep breaths. Calming breaths. "Let's go," she said, setting forward at a light jog.
 
Imperium + Amazons~Gremlock​
​

Gremlock descended with the others into the temple of doom. He noted the rather plain architecture of the place, as usually the Imperium was fond of far more flashy and grand architecture. Veira seemed to experience trouble with one of her spells, causing Gremlock to be at the ready, but then he relaxed when he realized that it was just a spell malfunction. Suddenly, an apparition appeared in the air, causing Gremlock's hairs to stand on end. For some bizarre reason, the supernatural did not agree with him, generally wanting to murder him in the most painful way possible. Fortunately, this particular apparition was simply an illusion, or at least did not hold a grudge against him.

The apparition started speaking in a strange language, which Veira helped decipher with an odd spell. Quite a fascinating spell, by Gremlock's standards. He then realized that it was wanting to know why the adventurers were there. Gremlock opened his mouth to speak, after some thought decided not to. Feeling a little unsure of himself for choosing a bad mission, Gremlock was exceedingly worried that anything he said would completely screw up the whole mission. Eventually, he decided to keep silent and keep watch. He kept his musket sheathed in case the apparition thought a drawn one would signal a threat, and instead kept one hand on the pistol on his right, in case something bad happened.
 
Renalta - Zin​

Zin felt like she might vomit at any moment, and her head was pounding painfully. Here it was already, the fighting she so feared, and there seemed little choice but to go through with it. Even Eric, a good man by all standards she could think of, was set toward violence as the first response to a possible threat. She saw no reason to believe the others would be any different, because as always her practical side trumped her optimistic side without a struggle. Zin pushed her thoughts of seeking a peaceful resolution aside for now, and in their place she dredged up some rather unpleasant thoughts to goad herself into action. These were allies of the man who had murdered Mikan's child, and perhaps they'd even had a hand in that attack on Renalta. If they weren't stopped now, there was no telling how many more children would die by their hands or through their assistance. There was no telling what horrors James the Illusionist would unleash upon Renalta if he wasn't stopped now, and these three figures were in their way. Renalta, her second home, the place where she'd found acceptance and a fulfilling life, could be destroyed if James was left to his own devices.

Though she was not typically prone to anger, tending to stop more in the range of disappointment no matter how awful the person or situation was that caused the emotion, Zin felt a scalding rage building up inside her. She hadn't felt such a thing for many years, not since the turmoils of her youth. She wasn't sure she liked how easy it was to work herself up to such a state, but the self analysis could come later. "The stealth approach seems most likely to succeed." Her voice seemed rather cold and distant to her own ears, rather than the aggressive tone she'd expected would come out. "I'll make Cennick invisible for a short time. Make sure you all decide on your targets beforehand to avoid unfortunate mishaps."

Zin readied herself to cast the invisibility spell on the sheriff as soon as the details of the assault were sorted out. She'd practiced making herself and others invisible after finding it to be such a useful trick in Rheinfeld, so she was confident that she'd be able to cast the spell without any trouble, thus she didn't bother with any intensive concentration efforts. She did, however, keep that anger boiling in the back of her mind, using it and those painful thoughts to fight back all the second thoughts and worries that kept cropping up. Death was imminent, and she did not intend for herself or the other Blades to be numbered among the corpses.

Liveria - Kasim​

When Princess Helénē looked his way, all of Kasim's worries and confusion seemed to fade away; it sounded like soppy drivel from a romantic saga, but there it was. She was depending on the Blades, and on him in particular, to make the wisest choice. He focused in on that, on being the wise and noble man that he aspired to be, and shoved all other concerns aside. As Draza spoke, Kasim considered the options that laid before them. Leftward to certain battle and possible rescue of captives, or rightward to uncertain safety and potentially quicker accomplishment of the mission's goal? He was heavily swayed by Zoe's argument of keeping the princess safe, and Draza's words did little to change that. Kasim almost spoke in favor of heading down the rightward path, but then the blind lady's horse made a noise and he remember something else that had been said.

"Hold on, we're forgetting a main priority here. I thought we all agreed that we needed information before storming into the cave, so let's get that and then decide which path to take." Kasim pointed to the horse. "We should set up an ambush like Zoe said, grab an orc and get as much information as we can about how many others are in the cave, whether or not they still have any living captives at all, and where the demon should be right now. If we find out the demon is off to the right doing something, then we can go there and deal with him first and foremost, to fight our hardest battle at full strength as Draza suggested. If the left path turns out to be the better option, then at least the ambush will get some of them out of our way with very little risk to our own safety. We need to be smart about this if we're going to kill the demon, and we can't be very smart at all if we stumble around making blind choices." After realizing this was perhaps a poor choice of words, Kasim looked to the blind knight and thought of a potential objection she might raise. "Oh, and I'll help pay for a new horse if anything bad happens to this one in the ambush. Should be completely safe, but just in case I'm wrong I'll make sure you don't go long without a steed. A knight has to have a horse, after all."


Satisfied that he had covered all important points, and quite proud of his ability to make such a sound argument just by putting a little effort into thinking, Kasim looked to Princess Helénē with a confident. "That's what I think with my expertise. Zoe was right about needing to be rational, but too focused on the straightforward options ahead of us. Gabriel's desire to save lives is a noble goal, as is Zoe's wish to protect you from harm, but both of those goals are best achieved by us getting information before charging in." Kasim looked round to the others, deciding to go all out with the diplomatic approach. "But I'm just one among five, of course. What do you all think?"​
 
Abjaar Korsair- The Heart of Madness (feat Brovo as Granddaddy Korsair)
​
Abjaar was left to pause after the strange interaction with Mikan, himself and his Grandfather-Spirit-Wolf. "I never would have guessed that phrase would cross my mind." The sensation was migraine inducing, and soon enough he was following his Grandfather at the front of the pack, a few feet ahead of everyone else. If anything, he was glad to be mostly out of earshot, although he wasn't exactly the subtlest or quietest of men. "I will admit I did not expect you to be the one dragged back. I expected my father, or my brothers…

'Or my mother.' "…Someone I actually met in my lifetime. Was it your choice to come and visit your bastard grandson, or is there no choice in all…" He pauses, waving a hand in the general direction of the spirit beast. "…This?" He had more than his fair share of questions for his ancestor, if only because the journey to the Swamp had been one of pure mundanity and tedium. Unsurprisingly, three days alone with only thoughts for company was not exactly Abjaar's idea of a good time.

"It was not my choice, no. Not that I had one, being that my last memory is dying." He seemed discontented, but that was unsurprising given the situation.

Abjaar nodded, unsurprised by the response. Others might have been hurt by the nonchalant disinterest that the man showed in him, but Abjaar did not have time to dwell in sadness or disappointment. "Well, what would we of the Free Holds be if we did not find opportunity where others saw less?" His first instinct was to ask his ancestor how he died, but when he thought of the often fatal connections that children and parents had, it seemed quite possible that his father was his grandfather's killer.

Nothing ruins the mood like patricide, when trying to talk with an unwilling ghost animal. "Perhaps you would like to know about the last of your line? I might not have the…conventional Korsair pleasures in life, but I am working to change the world. I aspire to make the Korsair name known through all the lands, not just the deserts we both once called home."

He paused, more than aware that what he 'had' was an ego, a plan for power that would likely be opposed by every man, woman and beast that could do so, and a past that hung from his neck like an executioner's noose, waiting for a hook to hang from. "Or perhaps you would prefer to talk about yourself?"

"I would like to talk about neither of these things." The spiritual wolf snarls back as he glares forward. "I know enough from how you did nothing about that woman."

Abjaar's fist tightened and he let his voice develop a venom and anger of its own. Not as savage as a wolf's snarl, but enough to highlight his anger and indignation. "No, grandfather, you know nothing. That woman is one of the most powerful people in an organisation of powerful people. I am here to kill a man who could rip apart an entire time line, and I live in a world where the Gods are nothing but banished memories. The world has change from your time, ancestor."

Abjaar exhales sharply, purging the anger from his body, before he raised his voice. "I was…I am merely trying to learn about the man whose legacy and name I work to continue. If you are not interested, then you are not interested. Unlike father, I have to earn my place in the Korsair legacy. I do not get to sit on the laurels of someone else's success." There was a strange lack of emotion in the last statement. He was not bitter about his misplacement, nor was he happy about it. He saw the Coup for what it was: A bump in the path, and something he had to scrape to find value in.

There was a moment of silence, before Abjaar spoke again. His voice was more measured than before: calmer and cooler. He was being careful to control his mood. "I remember reading, in the Chainhold archives, that it was you who first elevated us to being the Warlords of Chainhold. I had hoped that I might at least be able to make peace with you… with another Korsair who had to fight for what he wanted. Do I hope falsely?"

"You cannot make peace with the dead." The wolf stated simply and flatly. "If what you said about the slut is true, then try befriending the living, lest my line be made up of nothing more than fools."

Abjaar smiles slightly as the spirit speaks. It was slow, but it was progress. "I have no doubt that your line is made of nothing but fools; a smart man would have run away by now. As for befriending the living…It is a work in progress." Abjaar felt his right hand reach up to his left arm, to the chains that were tied around his armoured limb. "Some people do not take kindly to slavers and Warlords."

"How unsurprisingly civilized of them." He sneered.

Abjaar rolled his eyes, his lips still held in an amused smirk. "Thankfully, I am not a slaver or a Warlord anymore. I just need an opportunity to prove that." Abjaar stopped for a moment, and let the spirit go further ahead to scout, so that he was amongst the group once more, even if they would likely prefer otherwise.

---

Abjaar settled near the back of the group, watching the various members of the Blades move through the swamp, following either the wordless ferret thing or the Wolf. As much as some might think him foolish for using the spirit guide, Abjaar still preferred the comfort of a guide who was sentient enough to speak and, presumably, not get distracted by thoughts of food. He took the time to look around the swamp, and realised just how much it was an armpit…A magical armpit, but an armpit none-the-less. He would be glad to be gone from it.

Soon enough though, talk shifted to a plan. It was a simple enough one: Mikan and the Sheriff move into stealth, and then the two Crossbow-wielding individuals could attack whoever was left. Abjaar looked around and gauged reactions, to see if anyone had any major objections to the plan. He noticed a little bit of hesitance on the face of the mage…She looked pale; or paler than a vampire usually is. Soon enough, she mentioned her readiness to comply with the plan. "For a second, I thought she was having second thoughts about the plan." Her cold tone convinced the Free Holder well enough of her conviction, despite the doubts she harboured. After a moment, something clicked in Abjaar's mind.

"If I might make a suggestion: Send me instead of the Sheriff." He looked towards the vampire, the thin line of his lips showing his concentration, as he thought through his rapidly forming scheme. "If you can get me within a few dozen feet, I should be able to hook one of the three with my chains. I can pull them down the steps and that should knock them out, or I can simply do that when I drag them to myself. The other two would be easy game then, and we could question the prisoner about the target, or his plan, or just what we should expect further ahead." He nodded as he finished explaining his plan; it seemed like the easiest way to keep everyone alive. It also meant that they wouldn't be walking into any traps, and if it perhaps earned some good will for Abjaar? What could be the harm in that?
 
Aëyr
Tuleria, Unto the Breach​
Sickened by the sudden and horrific display of death that greeted their arrival on the battlefield, Aëyr scurried into her designated position, thankful that the group had a firm leader in Yuri to pull them together so quickly.

Our lack of vigilance has already cost us three men. I shall ensure their deaths were not in vain.

Most pressing for the moment were the vampires.

Keeping her eyes locked on the advancing footprints of the invisible assassin, she pulled her sling out, loaded a shot into it, and called to Quar. "Could you throw a cloud of spores there?" designating the area that—as best she could tell—contained the assassin. Already the air buzzed with the spinning of the cord. Whether Quar was able to provide her with a visible target or not, she was ready to fire, aiming for the meeting of thigh and hip so as to immobilize the threat.[/hr]
 
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Sheriff Cennick "Cen" Greenborough in Heart of Madness​

Cennick followed close to Mikan, trying his best to take his mind off the fact that his safety was in the mitts of a ferret and Grandfather Wolf. His nerves were already fraying. Every unexplained movement could be James or his minions, every errant sound the start of an ambush. It eventually got to the point were he had trouble trusting his own senses, the implications of fighting an illusionist poised some very troubling possibilities. Especially one as purportedly powerful as James. This was no standard hunt. He clutched hard at the sword on his belt, ready to draw at the first sign of danger. How long was it since he last used it? Two, three years? Sure, for the past year he trained, sparring and drilling like he all those years ago back at the academy, but what of the year before that? A drunk, aloof and undisciplined. Fuzzy memories of harassing women, asking for liquor and pulling himself out of ditches haunted him. It was almost a relief when they arrived at the temple complex.

The plan Mikan laid out was reasonable, and in more normal circumstances he would have wholeheartedly followed through with it, no questions asked. However, His nerves had not quite recovered and his mind set to postulating all forms of trickery that lay before him. Then mist? James' doing. The figures? Not real. Even the structure itself fell under the Sheriff's anxiety-maddened scrutiny. What was the extent of the mad illusionist's powers? There was so much that could go wrong, so much that could be a glamour or trick, he eventually just resigned. Every plan he could think of had some sort of risk so he settled on Mikan's. "Su-" He started only to be beaten by the slaver. Cen begrudgingly listened to what the bastard had to say and was surprised to find it actually had some merit.

Cen sighed. "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but Abjaar might be right." He paused for a moment, waiting to be stuck down by some listening entity. When nothing happened, he continued, "We're in dire need of information, if he can do what he says he can do we might be able to get some bloody idea on how to kill this James guy. I say let the slaver play hero if he wants." What's the worst that could happen. Cen turned to Abjaar, "Just don't go causing too much of a fuss, if you mess up and bring an army down on us, well, I'll probably be too dead to scorn you."

Reaching to his hip the sheriff pulled his own crossbow, small compared to Erik's and downright toy-like compared to the manbreaker. He trusted himself enough with the device, though he would be the first to admit that he was a little lacking in practice. "If the slaver loses his little gamble, I'll stick the guard with this." He loaded a bolt.
 
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Kingdom of Liveria – Ancestral Bonds
Rayvon Krayvitch​

Rayvon listens carefully to the conversations passing by before sighing out loudly, "You all bring valid points, and I understand, but people are dying as we argue these points. Innocent lives that we could have saved." She looks about the cavern, settling her eyes upon Zoe, "I trust Molkar. I fought by his side. He showed wisdom in ending what would have been needless slaughter between our two groups upon our initial meeting."

She sighs and draws back, "Yet, if it is not enough, if you still wish to tarry and allow more to be left to their death, just because you need more information… Very well. I had hoped to save this for a direr situation, but, if it means hurrying this along and being able to potentially help the lives of many…" She withdraws the requisitioned vial of blood from the amazons. Removing the stopper, she raises it to her lips and tips it back. She grimaces at the copper taste but forces it down, keeping in mind the task she requires: A spirit to be her eyes and ears, which would know the goings-on of these caverns for her until a time they would depart them.

Appearing out of thin air, the ethereal green snake appeared, atop the ceiling it peered down at Rayvon and flecked its tongue out. Rayvon's wolf growls at it, causing the snake to hiss in an amused manner. "You are..." The snake speaks, though struggles with certain words. "I am your uncle. Your mother was my sister." Gabriel blinks with confusion and Zoe shifts uncomfortable, though both remain silent. "Glad to see you're okay after all these years... Left wandering the ethereal trail... So confused."

Rayvon reaches out to Haruuk and pets behind his ears to set him at ease, eying the snake uncertainly. "I was unaware I had an uncle, but it is nice to meet you," she bows her head respectfully, "I'd like to know you better, but at this moment… I'm afraid I need know of this place. What to expect, things of importance, the like, anything you can help me with, really."

"Right..." Her uncle hissed as he slithered along the ceiling, his green colouration changing to match that of the background. "When I'm away from you, you will be able to hear me in your mind." Zoe sighed in agitation. "How convenient." The uncle eyed her suspiciously as he flicked his tongue out at her. Zoe showed no sign of caring. "So, right passage, yes?" The uncle asked with some uncertainty.

Rayvon gnashes her teeth before nodding, "Scout out the right path. If our true enemy awaits that way, then I would not have us tarry another moment…" She sighs and looks at the left part dejectedly, "If it does not await us there, then there is no point for us to continue along to the right and instead we ought to see about doing some good one our way."

The spirit nods happily and zips with surprising speed down the right path, disappearing from sight down the dimly lit path within a few seconds. Silence followed. More silence followed. Several moments of silence continued to dampen the area as Zoe stared at Elrbetrt's horse. Finally, the spirit spoke in Rayvon's mind. "I found a room full of rotting corpses: Some men, some horses, a few infants and children. The right path also leads to another chamber, it seems to be the Orc treasury room. Past that, there is a room with a few prisoners, all women. It appears to be a chamber connected by both the right and left paths, though the right path's entrance is dark and unguarded... I think these women are breeding stock. A couple look pregnant."

Rayvon looks visibly ill for a moment before attempting to smooth her expression and look calm once more, "Thank you, that helps, a bit, I suppose." She looks to the rest of the group and relays the information and continues, "Essentially, we can take the right path clear to the imprisoned women's chamber and ambush the guards… It will take longer, but it lessens the risks we would be taking, both for them and for all of us, given they would have a route they could escape by. I'm willing to take the longer path now, so long as we save them."

Zoe nods in agreement, and double checks her crossbow. Gabriel looks surprised as he glances at Zoe. The Liverian noticed, and shrugged nonchalantly. "No guards, scouted just now so the information is fresh, and it gives us an ambush opportunity. If other Queen's Blades vote in favour of it, I am satisfied." Gabriel looks conflicted as he glances down both paths. "I would prefer expediency, but I can see the logic in taking the safer path to achieve the same ends."
 
Goblin Holds - Antiqua Scientiam
​
For a moment there was light before Aslo could appreciate the view that was the Mechanist City around him however, he was tackled, and the light was very suddenly replaced by the whistle of arrows. He found himself sufficiently put off by his current close quarters with Nyla. The child had barely seen sixteen years, and yet was overly capable of saving them both. Next came the explosion, and an immediate sense of "Oh god what have I signed on for this time." Nyla began speaking orders, and the light began moving away. A clever ploy, but a ploy all the same. There would soon be a search party sent by their enemy to seek where they had fled, and when they did the Blades had better not be there.

Aslo rushed over to Nyla and grabbed Unamo to help move more swiftly to the east as Nyla had ordered to. The faster they got out of that position the better, and it was likely that Unamo needed some medical attention before long. Spotting how severely the woman was bleeding, Aslo feared that they might leave a trail of blood for the enemy to follow. As they move Aslo looks to Daevon "We'll have to do something about this before making much progress, I assume you can be of some help?" Keeping a level head he looks to Child and Esyllt. "You two scout ahead into the alley and find somewhere we can patch Unamo up before making more of a push through the city." Then looking back to Fafnir and Maeven "Try and have your dragon cover our retreat, but stay close, we don't want you getting separated."

He racked his brain trying to recall where the mortar had come from, some trace of smoke in the light, or even what general direction the thing had screamed in from. He mentally retraced their steps as they moved, creating a mental image in his mind. By chance he was reminded of a previous gala he had attended held by a crime boss. The man had been using the opportunity to showboat all night, and he had in his possession a Tulerian Mortar. With the absence of the screaming slaves, Aslo easily matched this weapon to the one from so long ago. Every useful bit of information he could muster came rushing to his mind: Quick reload, astounding accuracy, but could be blocked by even small amounts of magic should a mage aim their spells properly. With their current situation it couldn't hurt to try.

Aslo spoke to the whole group at first. "By my best guess our enemy is to the south-south-east, they aren't directly on top of us maybe as far out as 4 kilometers, but with what we're facing they might as well be right behind us, that weapon of theirs is quick and deadly accurate..." he then looked down to Unamo "... As we get closer you should be able to jam them up proper but until then keep your senses up, and try to intercept anything nasty coming our way."​
 
Liveria - Kasim​

"Guess there's no need for the horse ambush any more." Kasim looked to Rayvon, giving her a friendly grin. "Smart thinking, using the vial to save time. I've got one of those as well, so we've still got an ace up our sleeves for a dire situation. Let's take that safe rightward path and get this done as quietly as possible. We can always check the leftward path for living prisoners after we've dealt with the demon."
 
Toorg: Kingdom of Tuleria - Unto the Breach​

Toorg looked upon the landscape of Tulleria, not used to the sand beneath his feet. He had always walked on grassy fields, forestry but nothing like sand. It was harsh beneath his feet with each lumbering step he took forward. He looked at the Templar with an inquisitive look, deciding to keep to himself after seeing the rather brutal display Otto showed earlier. His companions were ready to engage the enemy commander on the opposite side of the current skirmish. His towering frame moved further towards the armored lady known as Yuri, as she taking up the front, issuing orders to both mages, Arkos and Quar. He quickly took a glance of his surroundings, unfamiliar still to him.

Toorg listened carefully to Yuri's orders. "Toorg push good with power. Toorg like ram when push" His voice was deep, low and oddly "earthy" in its tone. "Toorg help, Toorg can push good." He further stated with a cheerful tone. His focused shifted to both the battle and his duty; to be the pushing power. Toorg knew this is where his strength would be, figuratively and literally.

He moved in front of Yuri and readied himself as he moved, banging both fists together before letting out a roar of his own. His pace slowly picked up, long strides towards the Demon Commander holding the staff in her hands. He did not care about the magic she was casting at this time, nor did it bother him. Toorg was going to stop her with his strength and might. He was not going to disappoint his comrades, he was going to do what all Treeants are good at; smash things good and proper.​
 
Franchine -- Renalta | Heart of Madness
​

A demeanor of non-compliance marked Franchine's "introduction" to the team. She remained silent and unfriendly to the others, maintaining an almost non-existent presence around them as the expedition went under way. For a time, her focus was devoted solely to keeping up her serenity. Being in so strange an environment with such colorful personalities, it was a struggle not to lose a portion of her "cool", especially when it came to the witless man called Abjaar. She needed to adapt.

Eventually she would open up and speak, but until she more readily deduced the behaviors of her comrades and how to deal with them, Franchine remained unwilling to drop her uptight nature. Whether or not the rest of the team was perturbed by her seemingly cold heart or not, they refrained from bothering her, much to her satisfaction. Haraith, being so familiar with the body language of her various mindsets, remained quiet all the same as much as he wished to chat up with the others. He did not wish to bother her, lest she shrink him, a spell he disliked greatly. It was a pitiful state of being as a drake to be so small.

The swamp presented Franchine with another nuisance as she sat atop the drake's back; the putrid smell pelted her psyche with endless distractions. While she maintained her composure throughout, eyes closed and head bowed, the occasional twitch of her nose and a grimace here and there attested to the olfactory power of her environment. She met the scene with tiny, sparse breaths and a handful of her clothing pressed up to her face.

Eventually, the swamp, too, had become familiar enough that she could focus readily on more pressing thoughts. Such was Franchine's ability to dismiss annoyances, a testament to her mental fortitude. As the group stopped, she surveyed the veiled structure and figures that lied beyond, immediately assuming Eric's loaded weapon to be sign of danger. This was the place alright.

Franchine slid down from Haraith's body and fell into the copious mud below, grimacing but quickly dismissing the misfortune. She'd been dirty before. No matter. Mikan's concern for stealth suggested to Franchine that an entirely "natural" approach would be more effective. Haraith, being a beast of the wilderness, could possibly pass off as being a commonplace creature roaming about as it approached the temple alone.

But as she'd seen in the past, death by drake mauling was never quiet, and stealth was, once again, the issue at the time. She withheld the suggestion. Glancing to her side, she caught a rather familiar sight in Zin's expression; that of queasiness. Franchine was prepared to treat her if it were an issue of disease, but as she continued to observe the vampire from the corner of her eye, she realized it was not something she could fix.

For the first time in the entire trip, Franchine spoke up. "Do we know of anyone inside? How do we know that this guard Abjaar ensnares will be knocked out on his way down? He could make quite the commotion should he remain conscious," she explained, "I think Mikan's plan was much more of a guarantee."
 
Murderok: Heart of Madness​

Murd listened without much to add to the discussion. Both plans were fairly sound, though he trusted Mikan's judgement more. What does a desert slaver know about moving stealthily in a swamp? "Little Slaver, I'm sure you are confident in your abilities, but what does one of your kind know of moving silently in a swamp? In the desert i'd gladly defer to your stealth skills, but at this time I think that Mikan's plan is the sounder, especially since chains are not exactly quiet things and sounds tend to travel far in a swamp." Murd said as he loaded one of his bolts on manbreaker and affixed a decapitator head to it. "I'll take the one on the left." He offered to Erik as he cocked Manbreaker with a grin.





Daevon: Antiqua Scientium​

Daevon lifted himself and saw the ruin of Ug lying on the ground and frowned. "You owe me a well trained loyal servant!" He called into the darkness counting on the loading times of the war machine to buy him the time as he followed the rest away from the source of light. As he moves he uses his telekinesis to take up Unamo from the Imperial woman, Nyla, and another lighter application of it to hold the wounds closed.

As he moved he began pulsing out lightly with his telekinesis the pulsed waves of energy painting him a picture of his closest surrounds, the power faded to nothing except where it encountered columns and flagstones a disquieting sense of agoraphobia in a place where most would have claustrophobia threatened to annoy him. But his sense was more valuable than a light drawing enemy fire to them.

Finally, when they seemed to be out of immediate danger and stopped Daevon lightly set down Unamo while telekinetically silencing her by holding her mouth closed. A scream of pain would not help them. He dipped into his wells of power and began to apply healing magic to Unamo, the first application was one to numb the pain, something he'd master long, long ago and no longer needed for day-to-day life, the second was a light application of healing power to accelerate natural healing, enough to stop blood loss and hopefully close the wounds.

He didn't want to waste his power too soon. They might need more of it later, in greater volumes.
 
Liveria - Ancestral Bonds
Elrbetrt Westfeld
​
With the signal fired, she followed the group, taking up the rear guard as they made their way towards the caverns and dispatched of the two orcs there. It was all going smoothly so far, but the caverns gave her chills; the prospect of being cornered like rats by orcs was not a pleasant one. The fork in the path soon after further solidifies her fear of being trapped. Two paths, and a few different posibilities as put forth by her companions, but she was loathe to put the princess in any undue dangers. Elrbetrt would be a disgrace to her family should the princess come to harm. Thankfully another had drank something from her vial, summoning forth a being o help them. What the being reported back however, bothered her.
​
"..breeding stock?"

An odd choice of words, but one that repeated itself in her mind as she tried to make sense of it. However, She had to admit that a lot more thinking was involved in this than she thought there would be. If only she was a fabled knight...

"It seems to be the right path is the right... path?" She stumbled a little on those words. "Let us not tarry and be off as soon as possible."

Elrbetrt waited for the rest to move before following behind, again intent on taking up the rearguard.​
 
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