Protest the Wish [IC]

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OOC | TofM | Darkest Towers | Jungle | Life | Ze Shack

Tower of the Masters

WEATHER: [d7]


~Clear: 1-3
~Rain: 4
~Sandstorm: 5-6
~No change: 7

Fresh sunlight pierced through the darkness as the sun climbed up through the sky. Leftover dust storms from the previous night vanished in the early morning haze. Temperatures quickly began to rise, baking the sandy dunes of the desert.

Among the plains of sand rose a city, shimmering in the heat. Erected in a perfect circle around it were solid masses of stone, cracking with age. In the dusty streets hung a feeling of dread. The piles of ash that littered walkways and buildings, the burnt bodies of those who lost everything, from their buried souls cried a wailing sorrow unmatched. The hellish competition that took their lives, the nightmare that played on human nature, was about to repeat itself.

The single pair of gates that allowed access to the world slowly drew open, iron hinges creaking from lack of care. Over the doors was an inscription written in the stone: "Ye who enter here, what is it you seeketh?"

Sandy winds blew in, rustling the stacks of provision cases lined up against the gates' watering hole. The cases were intended to be taken by the travelers who would soon arrive. Being of seamless material made up of fifteen different types of wood, it was the first test given to those interested in the Wish. Opening it worked a lot like a complex puzzle box. Simple text was etched into each rectangular block of wood: "There are plenty of ways to die, and you have to figure out a way to live."

Behind the cases stood a stone fountain delicately spraying water in the air. It was one of several fountains located around the city, and served as the only places to quench the thirst brought on by the desert air. A sign was placed on one of the stone rungs, saying, "Rest your body in any shelter you wish. At dawn the church bell will be rung, signaling the start of the competition. There will be no rules, no mercy. Only one will have their Wish. Until then, rest and gather your strength. You will need it. --The Gatekeeper".

Sitting atop the fountain on a little pedestal, gazing at the horizon beyond the gate, was a cat-like creäture of odd beauty. Her iridescent body seemed to be made of crushed gems, layers and veins of colours swept about in an intricate pattern, mainly of silver, red and blue. A tattoo crept over her back, highlighting a small keyhole in between her shoulder blades. Light scattered as it passed through her, sending a cascade of faint rainbows on the ground.

Her lavender eyes scanned the wasteland as she had many times before, waiting. And slowly, dots appeared on the horizon, moving in closer. The travelers were coming, having heeded the Masters' call. It was almost time.

In the most somber of voices, the creäture murmured to the walls of the ache that grew in the center of her mind. The stone gave no response, neither did the piles of ash that lay at her feet.

"The sounds of destruction are all I've ever known,
Surely there's something better for me...
Somewhere out there.


"Out there in the cold unknown."

Not too far from where Naunix stood a sound echoed from the center of the desert. The sound was unmistakably that of a large gate whose hinges had been at rest for well over a century. A silence fell upon the oasis shortly after the massive metal entrance had opened up it’s arms once more, beckoning those near and far to come to the slaughter that had taken Naunix’s father so long ago.

The silence was broken by the sound of a Naunix’s boot slamming into the head of a corpse. The thump was shortly followed by the grisly sound of a blade being ripped from the warped wound that had once been the face of an arrogant man. Naunix wiped the mess from his grosse messer off onto the dead mans tunic and proceeded to sheath the pitch-black blade by his right hip with the hilt pointing down at the ground. With no press for time he strolled his way over to where his second blade was resting. The beautifully crafted pure-white twin was protruding from the stomach of a man whose hands still clawed at the ground he laid on.

The man gripped the blade and attempted to pull it from his abdomen. As he endeavored to yank the blade free it’s weight seemed to triple with each attempt. Finally he gave up and resorted to insulting his soon-to-be killer “You filthy piece of shit…Damn the whore of a woman who birthed you and may the bastard that gave you life rot in the depths of hell forever!” He shouted, his face losing color with each word.

Naunix now stood over the man who had clearly given up on any attempt to survive. Naunix leaned in closer to the man until he was eye to eye with him and spoke: “Even with your last breath you cling so tightly to the hatred your god has declared I be given. Pathetic…” Naunix then removed the blade from the man with less effort than is required to pluck a flower from a garden.

“You’re going to burn you filthy, half-blo…” Naunix’s foot slammed into the side of the man’s face snapping his neck and cutting short his vile cries for vengeance. Naunix ambled over to the clearing of the tree line and wiped his second blade off on what little grass remained between the now bloodied tropical paradise and the wasteland-ish desert that lie ahead. He sheathed the sword above his left shoulder, the hilt facing towards the sky and continued onward towards the ancient city of death…

…Upon arriving outside the entrance to the kingdom of demise Naunix promptly read the engraved stone and continued onward, already assured of his answer to the question. As Naunix reached the fountain, the first thing to catch his eye was the feline-resembling creature that seemed to be constructed of precious jewels. Although the creature was a sight to behold Naunix did not have the time nor the reason to inquire further and moved towards the stack of wooden boxes. It was immediately clear that these were provisions of some type and the contents of each one would become important at one time or another.

As Naunix reached for one of the boxes his hand stopped just before covering the writing engraved upon it…~Hmm I must find a way to live…I’m sure the lousy bastards who constructed the contest want to sound as mysterious as possible, huh?~ He thought as he snatched up one of the cases and tucked it under his arm. Naunix then moved his attention to the notice placed upon the fountain on which the gem-crafted beast rested.

After familiarizing himself with what seemed to be the only instructions to the arena Naunix looked up at the animal and smiled. “Your masters sure are some sick creatures huh? Give us one night of safety and rest and then at dawn they watch, as their glorious bloodbath is unleashed. They better pray to whatever god they believe in that I don’t win this thing” Naunix threatened, half-sure that the creators that he already despised overheard his comment. “Who am I kidding, my remarks are probably falling on deaf ears huh? You either enjoy the sickening games as much as them or can’t comprehend a word I’m saying…either way it seems as though I’m already losing it.”…After his short conversation, with what Naunix assumed was just himself and his conscience’s attempt of comic relief, he made his way further into the city in search of a suitable place to stay the night.

Fredrick Hanz cleaned his blade,Brendika, of the blood the decapitation of another competitor whom had been attempting to enter the city. The woman had looked like she would be a worthy fight, maybe even his slayer. So Fredrick, as his honor demanded, challenged her. She agreed but with a catch she had to see his face.Fredrick agreed ready for a fight. But, when The Kingslayer lifted his visor, revealing the emptiness of his armor, she did not react well. Launching herself at him she had attacked wildly, striking sloppily and being easily parried by The Kingslayers blade and shield. Fredrick blocked a swing and sent it back with a push, leaving her sword in the air and her open for attack. Fredrick wasted no time. Swinging his blade he chopped of her head.

Finished cleaning Brendika, Fredrick sheathed his blade and crouched down. Putting his hand on the ground Fredrick did a simple summoning spell and stepped back as the sand began to quiver and shake. A few seconds later the bones of a horse, starting with the skull, came out of the ground and lied there in a pile. Fredrick gave them a nudge with his foot. "Come on you, pull yourself together and stop being lazy." The bones gave a complaining whinny and started to piece themselves together. Another few seconds later a skeletal horse was standing in front of The Kingslayer. The horse gave a snort and blue flames appeared where the mane and tail should be. Fredrick mounted his horse and rode towards the city.

After about 30 minutes of riding, Fredrick heard the screeching of iron hinges as they opened and saw in the distance the gate. Riding quickly he was there in a few minutes. Dismounting Fredrick patted the horse and said "Thank you old friend, you may sleep once more." The horse gave an affectionate whinny and then fell to pieces, returning to beneath the earth. Walking through the doors he read the inscription above the gates. "Ye who enter what is it you seeketh." Fredrick read quietly. Death. Death in one final glorious battle where I lose not through treachery, but through strength of arm. Fredrick thought, answering the question.

Walking into the little area where cases where located Fredrick overheard someone saying something about the game makers being sick and other such things. But the owner of the voice was gone. Walking over and reading the instructions, Fredrick nodded and grabbed a case, taking off his breast plate and putting it in his chest. One of the little perks about having no body, you are your own essentials container. Fredrick thought drily. Looking up at the gem creature he said simply "This is either hell for you year after year or entertainment. One can go either way after years of this."

With that, The Kingslayer gave a little bow in the direction of the creature and sank into the ground teleporting a good distance into the city popping out of the ground into a little house with a dirt floor. Sitting down, Fredrick took out his case and worked on the puzzle box. He prided himself on both his combat skills and his wit, for he believed in both training the mind and body, one of the perks of his upbringing and training before his unnatural extension of his life. "Well, worse comes to worse, I can burn the lock open." Fredrick muttered to himself as he worked on the puzzle.

Praetorian trotted contently across the desert, sensing the excitement in the air. He could tell that Tancred was eager to be somewhere, and the animal responded in kind, taking them there as best he could. The destrier was doing a wonderful job, and the knight was proud of his horse, though that was to be expected. Praetorian was bred for war, and the beast could tell when its master was ready for it. Tancred had his lance in one hand, with his blade and his hammer hanging over the saddle-horn of his war horse. They trotted through the hot sand, slowly getting to their destination. After a little while, they stumbled upon an oasis, so instead of drinking the water he had packed, they drank from the pool and went on their way. With their supplies topped up and the city in sight, it seemed the pair would be third to arrive, as he watched to other specks enter in the distance.

Ser Santoro and his horse were not long in following them, and when he reached the gate, he smiled. Across the top, the gate asked what he sought, and the man growled, raising his free hand and clenching it into a fist. "Power." he declared, and his horse whinnied in agreement. "Aye, Praetorian. We'll have power when we're done..." he reassured his steed as they proceeded inward. Once there, he saw the scum who had shown up to face him, and snorted in disgust, along with his horse. He grabbed a case as he read the rules, and then shrugged. Supposedly there was a church around here. It was probably for heathens, but he could change that. First he had to get this case open though.

Ever one to utilize the Razor of Master Occam, Tancred set the case on the ground, picked up his hammer from where it hung on Praetorian's saddle, and smashed the thing open. It didn't take much, just a good hit and it cracked, then he pried it apart and examined what he had to work with. He had broken both phials, ruining the swill that they expected him to eat while he was here, and while his food wasn't much better, he would not be eating the stuff in the case regardless, but especially now. The map, bandages, and badge all went unharmed, and he tucked those away on his person where they would be safe, and the scalpel he picked up and examined with a skeptical eye. He didn't understand the point of such a small knife, but perhaps it would be useful, so he wrapped it up in some of the leather that had been holding the food he had ruined with questionable substances, and thrust the small bundle into his belt. Coincidentally, the scalpel was now coated in the poison that had been in one of the phials, but the knight had no knowledge of that, and even if he had, it wouldn't change the fact that he thought the blade useless.

He smiled at his handiwork and kicked what was left of the case away, moving over to the fountain to have a drink. His horse had already helped himself, and so they were off to the church. "Let's go find this heathen church, eh? Show 'em what a real place of worship looks like..." Praetorian agreed, nodding as they headed off toward the largest building they could see. That had to be the church, or this place was even more alien and in need of destruction than anywhere else he had uncovered. But sure enough he found the church, abandoned like the rest of the city. "Be good, boy. Don't wander off." the witch hunter ordered his horse as he pulled his weapons from the beast and wandered inside. If someone tried to take any of his supplies, they would get a swift and lethal kick to the head, or a rather unpleasant bite to the throat. And, on top of that, Praetorian wouldn't be going far, so Tancred would know about someone approaching, and if his fearsome horse needed help, he was happy to provide it. Peace with scum and heathens only lasted for as long as they didn't piss him off.

The church itself, was a nice building, however the decoration needed work. Tancred set about altering the place to suit his own needs, feeling the vindication of his gods as he did so. He pushed over false idols and hid images false prophets, He even cracked the useless, overly ornate altar that wasted useful space. It was the best he could do without blood or images of his gods, though he did arrange the pews to better accommodate proper worshipping practices for his gods, should anyone actually follow the same religion. He doubted that, however, assuming that this was some kind of representative test, with the winner getting power for his kind. That made winning all the more necessary, Zarus and Kord deserved power. Humanity should rule. The Strong should be served by the weak. The warrior growled, and then headed back outside, his blade and hammer now hanging from his belt, while his spear remained in-hand...

By the time Raelius had reached the city, it was already late in the afternoon. He stood in what would be the center of the most arid desert in the land, carrying the Sword unaffectionately on his shoulder, with his hand the end of the hilt. Here it was: Aelhurst.

The titanic mountain of a city was exaggerated by the mostly-flat desert surrounding it, casting a shadow that stretched far beyond his sight in the evening light. As if waiting solely for the exhausted man, the massive north-facing gate of the fabled city of Aelhurst stood ajar, like the welcoming arms of an old friend. One that plans to stab you the moment you turn around, Raelius thought to himself. With trepidation, the weathered man disconnected the horse-hide canteen from his belt and sucked down the last drop before resuming his wade through the sand, toward the gigantic door.

Had it really only been a season ago? The Affliction. The Chaos. The Tragedy. It seemed like a vivid memory one would keep since childhood; like a fading scar that one forgets the existence of until a skirmish creates a new would that summons back thoughts of the old one. Yet, at the same time the pain ebbed at Raelius’s heart and soul, as if the scar had been that of a cursed wound that separates the flesh again at the sight or thought of it.

How foolish he must be to come here. This city would likely attract the attention of many a man, seeking fortune, power, love. Any who would survive the traverse across the harsh sands would likely be far stronger than Raelius. Warriors, Necromancers, and Magicians, along with members of the parallel races of the world: They would all be coming here to claim what they desire most. By the time this is over, thought Raelius, The world could be ruled by a tyrannical Demon or something of the like. For all I know, it may no longer even exist.

As Raelius steadily approached the gates, thin jutting streams of water became visible, rising from the ground in a weaving pattern. In front of the constant streams was a mostly-solid wall of multicolored boxes; a few missing from the stacks. It seems as though I’m not the early bird today, Raelius thought, Hopefully I can still get the worm. Stopping a short distance from the entrance, he looked up to the top of the gate, and read the inquiring inscription. “What do I seek?” he said in almost a whisper, “I seek to return to the way things were.” Without another word, Raelius stepped past the gate.

As he approached the fountain and its companion cases, he noticed to his side a few broken pieces of wood and glass, accompanied by a sand-soaked puddle of purple. It looks like someone really wanted to get what’s inside, he thought. I, on the other hand, would like to see all of what lies within. A few more steps took him the the stacked of cubical cases, constructed of several different materials. Obviously a product of magic: No craftsman’s hands could mold such a box so precisely, even with the aid of a machine.

He hastily reached out to grab one, as to further observe the device, but froze at the sight of an odd creature. Atop the fountain of crisp, clear water, sat a conspicuous animal. At first, Raelius had perceived it as some sort of crystalline ornament, placed on the fountain for aesthetic purposes, but realized that it was in fact moving. Backing up a bit, with the puzzlebox in-hand, he further observed the figure. The setting desert sun refracted through and off of the apparently winged cat in a partial rainbow of colors. Its lightish indigo eyes gazed silently into Raelius’s, or maybe into the desert. He was unsure. Directly below the curious feline’s feet, read another message, detailing when and how the slaughter will commence. Bringing the puzzlebox to his frontside, Raelius read the inscription upon it as well.

“Well then,” he spoke moderately to himself, “Make a wish, take a nap, try not to die. Seems like a waste of words to me.”

Once again reaching for his belt, Raelius dipped the canteen in the Cat’s fountain, filling it to the brim, then burying his face in the cool, clean water. Once the desirable amount of water had been consumed, he pulled his head from the clear pool and gazed up, past the Diamond Cat, at the great tower in which the city dispersed. What are they doing up there, he wondered, waiting all this time just to witness dozens of men kill one another? Why not just watch a battle of war, or the effects of a blighted city? But asking these questions was as pointless as inquiring the identity of a Master Galt. The only thing that mattered now was finding accommodations for the night.

Without another pause of thought, Raelius tread around the stacks, the fountain, and the Cat, deeper into the foreboding city.

Andre looked out towards the centerfold of the desert as the rising sun dawned upon a city born of an otherworld. Andre tilted his head in awe as he felt the desert breeze on his back, almost feeling as if the desert itself wanted him to move forward.

Andre paused and took out the flyer he had taken from the pile he had been given, all of which but one he had discarded. Andre looked at the rich flyer that seemed to shimmer for a moment in the sunlight. He looked up again at the glittering city that stood ahead.

Just a few steps more, and a few steps further. Andre thought to himself as he replaced the flyer back into his bag. He walked onwards across the desert, but as the winds of Zael breathed by him, the excitement he felt began to grow.

Andre started into a slow jog, a run, and before long, he was sprinting as fast as the fleetest steeds across a desert with no memory, a childish grin across his face as his knapsack swayed in the air and knocked on his back.

Neir stepped forward from the shadows of the building he rested next to in the night, so as to get his strength as fast as he could. As the sun rose from the east, he looked through the mask and glared at the sunlight, regretting not leaving sooner for the city. He was sure he would not be the first. He continued to walk to the edge of the city and saw two men lying on the ground, dead. He stared at them for a brief moment, putting together the event that took place. From the mark on the ground, it seems the men were just on a walk when they were attacked. There was one blade, no two. One man was killed in an instant, the blade going through his skull in a matter of seconds. He died quickly, the other, not so much. It seems he was swept off his feet then before he could hit the ground, the blade pierced his stomach.

~The attacker seemed to enjoy it, but that might be because of the....hmmm...~ Neir thought.

Their belongings were still with them, so why were they attacked. Neir's suspicions grow more and more towards the conclusion he hopes isn't the case.

~Hmmm...how interesting...~ He thought

He walked up to the man who was stabbed in the stomach and knelt down next to him. Neir observed the wound and extended his hand toward it, but once his hand went near, it started to burn with a very sharp pain, so he withdrew his hand. "Killed by pure hatred..." Then his eyes widened and he turned to the other man, and walked over, observing the killing blow, and closed his eyes. "So, they DO exist.." He looks over to the city in the distance and sighs.

"Out of everything, I hate the desert the most. Curse these masters of this forsaken city..."

Neir continued to walk to the city and it was about noon when he reached the gate. He could've been there in a shorter amount of time, but he was not going to risk that much energy right away. He looked up and read the sign, intrigued, and softly said to himself, "I am coming, love." He walked past the gate and observed what has already happened. The remains of the box on the ground, the now slightly purple puddle, and slight footprints on the ground.

"So, an alchemist lives. Great, that's just what i need. I'll have to keep my eye out for that one as well, same for those blades..."

He reads the sign and studies it for a brief second before paying any attention to the fountain that lay next to the stack of wood. The figure that lay on the fountain did not move, but it seemed to be looking at him. Neir tilts his head in curiosity, then notices that the cat is mad of gems. He isn't to into this cat type creature so he grabs his box and moves on, putting his box next to the cat as he reaches behind himself for his canteen, and begins to fill it. Even he, a shade requires water. It is the essence of life. He then hears a slight whirring sound and in two quick motions, flicks the canteen up and draws his blade, The Whisperer, then catches the canteen. He looks around but sees nothing, so he slides the blade back into its holder and looks at the creature. The creature hasn't moved, but it's slightly glowing. The cat has now grabbed his attention, but then again, the box h grabbed and put next to the creature, has slightly changed. The sides has moved up a little and two handles moved out and down, seeming to secure it even more.

"So, you aren't just guarding the fountain...you guard the secret of these boxes...so whats so important about them..?"

He turns the box over slightly to see that this transformation made no sense. except for the emblem on the front seemed to pop out a bit. Neir pressed it and the box opened. Inside was a map, another canteen, a small useless gem, and ring. Neir lifted the ring and gem into the air and just sighed.

"what the hell am i suppose to do with these? What, am i going to marry another competitor? no, cause its a friggin SILVER ring. Damn these masters. They seem to enjoy watching those struggle with the simplest things.."

He put the items into his pack except for the map. He kept that out and looked it over. "It seems there are more fountains. I wonder if they too, have these so called, guardians. Maybe there is more to these boxes."

Just as he began to wonder off to the eastern part of the city, he heard the wind stir up very aggressively. "Theres only one thing that can do that...an angel...shit, why would an angel come to this event?!" He quickly ran to the nearest building and shortly shadow jumped to the roof, which wasnt very high at all, but Neir could still feel the energy drain from his body, luckily there was a chimney he could hide behind, which he did. He only wished that the loud thunderous of a sound didn't go off whenever he did shadow jump. He could only hope the angel did not see him. He waited quietly, and put his hand on his blade, ready. He peered around the corner but he did not see any wings or glow of an angel, all he saw was a young man. He quietly whispered, "how did you move as fast as the wind...?" He slowly observed the young man but did not make any move to attack, the rules were simple, wait for the bell, and then its free game, but a plan began to form in his mind. Why be on his own when he could just follow this young man, observe his actions and wait to see what his intentions were. Neir waited for the young man and knew once he was done with whatever he was doing, he was going to follow him for a day and just observe. Neir wanted to know why a mortal could move as an angel.

Sareth rode his steed across the endless Zael Desert to the fabled City of Wishes, each bump he felt on his backside reminded him of the long journey it took to reach this place. I'm a long way from the County... A very long way from home. He thought unconsciously as the dawning sunlight shone upon his back and the winds blew sand across the hidden path, kicking up dust in his eyes. Sareth flinched slightly and screwed his eyes shut, trying to avoid being blinded at what could be the worst of times. I can't afford to have weakness right now... Sareth began to think as the desert heat began to warm up the interior of his plate armour.

So much for not having any weakness. This sun will be the death of me soon. Sareth began to think dizzily. Then, he saw it. Or something he saw which he had hoped was not a mirage. A glittering city on the horizon, with architecture that matched the desert around it, and a great White-Gold Tower that reached out to scrape at the heavens. Sareth sighed with relief.
"Yah!" He barked as he whipped the reins and kicked the stirrups, and his horse neighed and galloped as fast as the wind towards the city. The desert air rushed past him as Sareth leaned forward and close to feel the wind upon his face, as the city began to grow nearer and closer within his vision. He had forgotten his doubts or fears that it might've been a mirage, as the city shimmered and seemed distorted for a moment.

After what seemed like a long while, Sareth arrived at the gates which bore tall over him, gaping wide and ready to accept him.
"Woah there..." He called to his horse as he tightened the reins, his steed slowing to a stop close to the opening between the gates. Sareth looked upon the great doors, which were inscribed with words that asked him of what he sought. Sareth paused, as if wondering about what he wanted. It was... Overwhelming, the thought of the chance to have any single wish granted... It was an intense feeling.

Sareth glanced aside, and then noticed another man was running towards the gates. Sareth rubbed his eyes in confusion, and then dismissed it as a trick of the desert winds kicking up sands and the heat playing tricks upon his mind. On that note, he realized he had to find water and shelter. Sareth looked up to the gates and then closed his eyes, feeling foolish as he did.
"I only wish to discover who I am." Sareth ended up blurting out. He opened his eyes and sighed, before he moved his stirrups slightly and pulled on the reins, his steed doing as it knew so to canter into the city.

"Woah." Sareth murmured to his steed as he held the reins, and his horse stopped once more. He patted the horse's mane as he slowly dismounted, his eyes engaged with a beauty never seen before. Sareth stepped out towards the cases and the fountain, staring at the crystalline figure waiting upon a pedestal in the centre of the fountain. Sareth dared not speak, only gazed upon the beautiful creature, a slender cat-like being made purely of crystals and precious material. Sareth had the strange urge to kneel courteously before the creature for a moment, before feeling the wind once more and realizing he was feeling dehydrated. Sareth stepped forward to drink from the fountain, but did not use the water otherwise to cool his armour. He instead bowed his head again to the creature silently, and looked to the cases.

Before he reached out to grab one, Sareth noted the sign and the instructions and part warning it bore. He paid heed and looked up to the tower that loomed over him, casting a great shadow in the light of the sun. Sareth then sighed once more and took one of the cases, before leading his horse away into the city to search for shelter.
__________________________________________________ _____________________________________

When Dusk fell, a man cloaked in shadow with a hood to bath his face in darkness rode his black skeletal steed across the desert sands, feeling no need to rest nor pause for respite. He rode on, feeling naught the wind upon his face nore the heat of the afternoon sun. Beside him soared a being of darkness that was yet barely visible, only being seen as a shadow flying through the air. Upon the back of the dead steed, a standard bearing the colours and symbol of the Spider Goddess was mounted. The black symbol seemed to shimmer as the standard flapped in the wind, as the restless haste bid these new arrivals a swift trip.

The City of Wishes, or more commonly known as Aelhurst. The man did not stop to waste time gawking at the magnificent sight, and rode on towards the gates as his dead horse shrieked a frightening sound that echoed on the wind.

The man reached the gates and road on through, his dark cloak flying through the air behind him as he swept into the city at the near end of dusklight. He dismounted his horse before the fountain, and ignored the Crystal Guardian of the Gate as he stepped before the cases. He noticed the remains of a case littered on the ground, with purple remains and shattered glass staining the ground.
"It looks like someone had rocks for brains here." The man commented snidely. He raised his head to the Crystal Guardian, two glowing red eyes staring out from the recedes of the hood's obscurity. But instead, he looked on beyond the Guardian, and looked up to the Tower of the Masters. The man already began to imagine the glory of reaching the top of a pillar that reached the sky, his ego getting the best of him.

The man glanced at the cases and at the sign that bore instructions. The man then glanced at the case closest to him, and the riddle inscribed upon it. The man began to laugh as he picked up the case.
"The beauty of undeath, as there is only a single end..." The man chided to the box. The box began to fall apart, as the wooden blocks burned in green flames and turned to nothing but dust in his hands. Amongst the ashes, unharmed, was a map, but nothing more. The man chuckled at the humour of the Masters as he pocketed the map and took the reins of his steed. He said nothing to the creature that waited, as he knew there were no words to be spoken, and instead went off to seek out a lair befitting of his stature to gather his reserves for the night.

All that could be heard that night was the sound of malicious and maniacal laughter, carried on the wind.

And in that wind, it was as if the breeze itself was shrieking in fear.

Andre reached the gates, yet as he stopped he felt uneasy. He looked out around the parapets, walls and towers of the city, before back to the gates which hung so readily open for him to waltz right through. I don't understand... He thought as he stepped forward slowly, taking even breaths as his heart began to beat faster. He looked at the doors in wonder and saw the inscription, which asked him what he wanted, or more specifically, what he sought here. Andre bit his lip and looked out to the desert, a tear in his eyes as he saw a mirage in the desert for a brief moment. Andre then whispered something under his breath and walked through the gates, a single thought in his mind.

I wish... I had my family back... Andre wished, before walking on into the City of Aelhurst.

The city was almost deserted as he entered. Not a living a soul to be seen for ages, save near the fountain. Andre watched as a man clad in armour lead his horse away from the fountain with a case in his hands. Andre saw stacks of many more of the same case before the fountain, and stepped forward quickly with his knapsack still slung over his shoulder.

Andre then noticed the shining statue upon a pedestal in the fountain. He blinked his eyes for a moment, feeling being blinded by the dazzling myriad of colours tricked his vision. But the statue still moved, as he thought he saw. Andre then stared at the moving crystalline cat figure for a moment, and shrugged uneasily. He then glanced at the cases and picked one of them up carelessly.
"Wow, these look pretty neat. I'm liking this place already!" Andre thought aloud with a smirk. He looked up at the crystalline figure, and his smirk disappeared when she didn't answer. He shrugged and fiddled with the box, not bothering to read the riddle and letting instinct do it's work.

"Ah, got it!" Andre exclaimed as the box opened up neatly, revealing it's contents. Andre knelt down and put the case on the ground, picking out the items inside. "A map... Some weird looking potions... Some rations..." Andre thought. He glanced up at the silent cat, hoping to get an answer in his next amount of small talk. "I bet those Wish-Makers have the best cooks, right?" Andre joked slightly. He smiled at himself and simply put the items in his pack, before taking out his water skin and sitting at the fountain to fill it up. When it was full, he took a deep drink of crystal-clear water to quench his desert-dry throat.

No pun intended. He thought.

He then glanced at the quiet cat, and shrugged, before looking out around the deserted city.
"This place is nice. I wouldn't mind living here." Andre said aloud, not really expecting the cat to answer. "Though, I guess it would be pretty lonely. Not a living soul in sight." Andre added as an afterthought. He sighed and took another deep drink, before filling up his water skin again. He put the water skin away and took out a juicy Thelapple. Andre dipped his hand into the fountain and splashed water onto the Thelapple, washing off any dirt before taking a bite out of the delicious fruit. He then sat next to the fountain and close to the crystal cat, watching alongside it for anyone else to approach.

Andre probably would've been better off spending time finding a place to rest, but he already found a place close to his heart. The fountain brought memories flooding back as he began to remember the times he had with his fellow street urchins. The fountain in the plaza was their meeting spot at night, and sometimes, the place where they laid down to rest for the night.

Andre began to wonder if they could still see stars from Aelhurst. He then waited by the fountain, finishing his Thelapple and tossing the leftovers aside, and lied down beside the fountain and watched the clouds go by. Slowly, his eyes began to droop, as Andre had forgotten all else.

Suddenly, a horrible shriek on the wind woke him up. Andre rubbed his eyes and looked out beyond the gates, into the dusklight of the afternoon. Racing towards the city was something... Something frightening and evil. Andre thought of nothing else but to pick up his knapsack and run towards the nearby buildings to hide. There, he watched as a the man swept in and noted a mess near the cases, insulting whoever was responsible. Andre's breath stiffened as he pushed against the wall next to him, trying to keep out of sight. He listened as the man seemed to chide to something, and Andre could hear the sound of something burning quickly. He dared not look, and waited for a long while until he decided it was safe to look.

Andre poked his head out and saw that the man had gone, along with what Andre thought was a dead horse, only walking. He sighed with relief and walked back over to the fountain to lie down next to it, without a word to the crystal cat. His eyes drooped closed, and Andre fell into a deep sleep for the night.

Neir, looks down at the young man with no emotion, just curiosity.

~The young one seems to be looking to avoid a fight, which means that he isnt a fighter or he exceeds in other areas...~

Neir puts his hand back onto his blade and can feel the patience of the blade start to flow through him, the steel that has seen many eons and much blood, but continues to do its masters bidding, being patient to be cleaned at the end just to be next to its masters side and guard him. He begins to rid his mind of anger as to why an angel would appear at the event, calms down, and thinks. He keeps pursing through multiple situations. He could simply just end the young ones life right now, he could attempt to become his ally for temporary reasons, he could figure out why he is here, and THEN kill him, or....continue to watch. He didn't like the idea of just watching him, so he moved that option out of the way, continuing to argue with himself over the other three options. After about half an hour of just watching the young man rest at the fountain and not move, while he decided his next move, he came to a conclusion.

Neir jumped down and landed with no sound, as he had perfected for situations like these, over the years. He slid his hands into his pockets and slowly and silently walked over to the young boy. He stopped just a few feet away, and the wind began to slowly blow. It was a very gentle breeze, very natural, like the ocean lapsing over a beach, brushing against it, then pulling away. Neir closed his eyes and listened to the area, to make sure they were alone, and they were, except for a few hundred feet away from them, rested another contestant, but they seemed to pose no threat, they just lay there.

~Since we are alone little one, it is time you tell me who you really are.~

In one smooth motion, Neir slid his blade out of its home, and put the edge of the blade at the base of the young boys neck. Not sure if he was awake or not Neir spoke anyway as to give him a small warning. If he had to repeat himself, so be it.

He spoke in a very low tone and moved the blade away enough so that the young man could talk. "If your going to speak, do it quietly, or else you'll cut yourself." He slid his hand into his pocket and made it seem as if he relaxed, hoping to give this young man the wrong impression, though he was still high on alert and ready to attack. "What is your name and why are you here, angel?"