Midnight, July 8th, ATS 1125 The Colossi Palace The Skies of the Low Realms are littered with lightning bolts, thunder, and the piercing chill rain of the Waterfury, as it's moment or piece subsided, and returned to an ever churning storm of unnatural hate, and violence. The pursuit of the Tourniquet has slowed due to the increasingly power of the storm in part to Ku-Jon's first attempt of harnessing the 'Gem of Tempest.' The winds pelted against them, and send their pursuers to the ground beneath them, and others... who weren't as fortunate... down into the skies until they were claimed in the void. They make for the lowest of the Low Realms... A place known to both Ku-Jon, and Kargon. A safe haven that they've used on many occasions... Jolinark or as it's better known... "Bandit Bluffs." A small gathering of the world's worst who've chosen the most inaccessible of places. The town itself is little more than shacks perched along various cliff edges that over look the void. One false step will send you falling for hours before you are caught in the spinning vortex of the Void, and rip apart, soul, mind, and body. They now fly through the heavy thunderstorm of the Waterfury on their way to Bandit Bluffs, and more specifically... The Greasy Spoon. A tavern of ill reputation. The kind of place where you would go if one sought to disappear, and hide for a time. Sindar "Bring Captain Elanore, and Lieutenant Alyss to my quarters!" Sindar commanded a lowly foot soldier as he stormed through the castle halls. The castle had been closed off, and put under heavy guard after the king's assassination, and so far the soldiers had done their best to keep the king's gruesome death a secret... Sindar only hoped that they could play it off as if the king passed away in a more peaceful manner. The Nobles would be his biggets concern, and he was sure that he could handle that once, Elanore got her ship into the sky to track down the murders. As he rounded the corner, one of the King's advisors approached him, while holding an old book bound in leather. "Sindar... I must speak with you." "I have no time for your political banter... I have criminals to find, and countless other tasks that must be attented to. If you wish to bore someone with stately manners, then either pass word down along the Sheriffs of the court, or wait until I have had a moment to collect my thoughts, and make sense of this mess..." The elderly man, stepped before the general, and put his hand up in order to stop the man from continuing forward. "You do not understand, Sindar... with the king dead, and Oralia not present to assume the throne... we must choose a steward for the kingdom until we decide what is next. This matter is more important than yo-" His words were cut off as Sindar grabbed him around his collar, and lifted him from the floor slamming him against the wall. "Listen here you old fool! Our king is dead, and our queen missing! Those responsible are free to roam the skies unhindered of their crimes, and our people are in the dark! I will not begin to think of which one of you old husks will seat their ass on the throne until those responsible for his majesty's murder are caught, trialed and executed! Do I make myself clear Lord Alunda!?" Sindar then let go allowing the man to fall to his feet, then to his knees. "Y-yes, General Sindar! I just... I only want to ensure that this tragedy's effects are minimized! The people will panic." "Tch... the people will stand strong, and know that their king will be avenged... I have never failed in my duties, and I will not fail my lord in his death... And I return Oralia to us." The man then began towards his quarters with renewed vigor, the flame of justice burned hotter in his soul. The Low Skies [size=+2]Zagara[/size] The hacking coughs that had plagued him since he'd blacked out from the Grand Hall in the Colossi palace seemed to have finally subsided, but Zagara still turned, and thrashed under the blankets of the bunk he had been placed in when they'd took to the sky. His skin burned with an unholy fire, and amidst his thrashing, he spoke in strange spidery words that made no sense to those that heard him. It sounded like magic, but those who understood the language would get the feeling that the words hadn't been spoken in thousands of years. He then suddenly opened his eyes, sat up, and he stared at the ceiling with a feverish look in his eyes, their light having long since died, and no longing spinning, leaving only viridian iris' fixed on the wooden planks above him. "Zofu Del Mah.... Jolinar agrest zokempt abashtu ungafen...." he said in a whisper, and then fell back against the mattress, and closed his eyes. The man's breathing seemed to ease, and his thrashing slowly ceased... it was as if he'd fallen asleep again, but then he stirred once more, and slowly... groggily opened his eyes. Their light was now present as a pale glow... the iris' were spinning once more. .