Bones of Ixtab

[tirgesfu]

“AH! I found it.” The booming voice rattled its joy through the mazes of eclectic rooms. So loud was the sudden exclamation that it thundered through the low hanging clouds and rumbled the rocky ground all the way down to the valley. The Collector’s voice woke the facilitators and they quickly left wherever they were and whatever they were doing. The four of them flew to his side having been summoned this way before; Suhia from the east, Lain from the north, Cronix from the West, and Gelidus from the North.

“Oh won’t the Society Members be envious of this treasure.” The crinkled man clapped his hands together in delight and the walls trembled. “I found the Mandible of Ixtab!”

As the facilitators readied the summons box and opened the command book one larger shadow, Cronix, took the clues from the others and asked, “And what is that, exactly?”

“It is the jaw bone of an ancient god, the Tackqular age of the Central Section.” He squealed and the rafters above shifted. “It will complete my Primal Age Level Three Section. I will gather one of my drone colonies to retrieve it.” Excitement in his voice made the waters in the seas below rise.

He hopped to the now opened book flipped quickly and spread his arms out to either side. He was overly excited and did not take the time he usually did to put his short finger on the old text, and adjusted the light.

Cetria em vugas umetra,
Oritious blye segratium.
Sintroum ty ligratha
Treuom crigha va
Botusium lethia.

In an even louder tone, winds blew and the stars began to swirl.

“Wait.” The Collector leaned over the book and whispered. After an exaggerated squint he rubbed his eyes quickly. “Did I say Treucraig crava, or Treuomcrighta va?”

Cronix, a shadow that had a past of being sometimes outspoken chuckled, “Opps.” And that was his latest mistake.

****************************

Cronix cursed as the blackness swirled around him. If he would have kept his mouth shut he might not have been sent off on this mistake mission. After all this time he still couldn’t keep his enjoyment of his master’s missteps silent. For that he pays. Again he pays.

Now he was off on another collection. Cronix had often wondered how much stuff his master had to have. As each section of his mausoleum filled he just added another wing. There were only a few of them, Collectors, that Cronix knew of. He never meant any of them other than his master. But he listened and learned. Not well enough of course or he wouldn’t be speeding through the void off to lead a misguided group to collect bones.

As the blackness began to show hues of light Cronix felt his body shift. He could smell a world racing to meet him. From the dark space he magically began to see the land of his mission. It was thick. Thick with a haze of moisture from a ground covered with a dull murky green. Like floating moss it wove around thin trunks of smooth barked low trees. They twisted thickly around each other, twigs with only a few leaves the color of rust. In between the soft spongy soggy soil the trees spread their low branches almost as wide as they did high. They were more branches than they were leaves. Only a little higher than a man seated on a horse they spread out in all directions as far as Cronix could see. But a thick light green haze did limit his view.

He tried to find a wide open spot in the strange dense forest. There wasn’t one really so he settled on a tiny opening between clusters of the trees where the moss seemed more substantial. He was sure when his legs hit the spot he would sink. As he looked he wondered how many he would call here. He hadn’t been given any information on the mistakenly gathered crew. All he could do was call them and direct each to land in the muck. Of course he didn’t have the commands his master did. He could only direct each caught subject to land in this spot.

Just as he was getting ready to break from the vapor he traveled through he stretched his legs only to find them short little stick with claws on the end. What?, he cawed. Bracing himself he opened his arms surprised to find them to be wing. A wide range of curses rang through the wild landscape. Cronix realized he must have really pissed The Collector this time. He had transported him through in the shape of a bird. Not just a bird, a crow. His string of swear words let him know at least his voice was intact.

Still, Cronix was a crow. Here in some jungle swamp he was sent, as a crow, to lead a band of misfit mistakes to find a jaw bone.

[Rtron]

Drachma blinked. One second, he was getting ready to die a glorious death, the next, he was standing in a swamp. His battle cry still echoed throughout the trees. But, he wasn't fighting a bandit horde and going down in a blaze of glory. He was staring straight at a crow, his sword raised to slice it in half. He then looked down. Apparently, he had landed in a tree when whatever happened happened. With a shrug, he dropped off onto the ground. "Now where in the name of hell am I?" He muttered, his voice echoing slightly in his armor. Drachma kept his sword out, not trusting this unfamiliar area. He glanced at the crow, the only thing besides him that looked out of place here. "I don't suppose you know where we are?"

He asked the bird, humor in his voice. Drachma seriously doubted that the bird would be able to respond, and had simply asked as a partial joke. "But, seriously. Where in the name of hell am I?" He asked aloud, idly twirling his sword. His armor still had bloodstains on it from the bandits. His sword to.

[Cairomaru]

Ridelle slowly began to open her eyes when she heard someone yelling. A battle cry? The hell was that yelling near her? She looked around, still a bit dazed and eventually realized she was no longer in the ocean. She was in a random swamp she definitely had never been in before. Rubbing her head as a way to somehow get rid of the daze she was currently feeling, the lower half of her body quickly turned into a pair of human legs. She struggled standing as she was never any good at walking on human legs, but it had to do. She needed to figure out where she was, and how to get back home after that random whirlpool incident.

Ridelle started to brush off her dress and her hair, when someone dropped down from a tree nearby her, and began talking to a crow. She wasn't too worried though. All sorts of beings lived in her world and She was in a swamp so water was still water. Even if it was dirty and heavier, if something were to happen, she could easily deal with it. Plus, the creature appeared to sound like a male, all she would have to do is start singing and problem solved. Ridelle walked up to the two and asked "Excuse me, but where is this place?"

[Lillian Thorne]

Squelch

That was never a good sound to hear, never. There were stars in front of her eyes so she couldn’t exactly see what had made the squelching sound in conjunction with her ass but the cold, oozing nature of it combined with the very organic nature of the scent gave her a good idea. Mud. Lovely, just lovely.

Blinking her eyes she caught a sight of dull, deep green, pale bark and rusty leaves. A few more blinks cleared things up further and she groaned. She was apparently sitting in an unsavory combination of soggy moss and muck which made a particularly unsavory image but she had to consider her blessings, she wasn’t sitting in a pile of shit. That had to count for something. She took stock of her lean body and found that though her backside and back ached from the impact, she was over all in decent shape. She stood, no small task and she was rewarded with more unsavory noises as she extracted herself, finally standing and brushing off the worst of the matter with her hands while her mind tried to work out the puzzle of how exactly she’d gotten there.

That was no easy task. She’d have assumed she was having some strange dream, perhaps the idiot of a cook had gone foraging and put mushrooms in the stew that he shouldn’t have but as she had no other symptoms and generally speaking she never bruised herself in dreams she had to rule that out. After a moment she gave up chasing the phantom whys and how’s of it and dealt simply with the reality of it. She wasn’t where she was supposed to be, plain and simple. Fortunately she’d been just about done with that leg wound, the boy would heal well enough with how much she’d gotten done. That was something.

Taking a tentative step and finding the ground firm enough he moved forward. She had no clue where she was going but standing around fretting didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. In the distance she heard the cry of a crow. Or was it? I might have been a harsh male voice, she simply wasn’t certain. Well company, even strangers and possible enemies was a better option than mud and moss. She adjusted her direction, cursing the odd fog that shrouded everything. Voices were easily distorted by such conditions and she couldn’t even be sure if she was heading towards the voice. Still, she wasn’t about to call out for them, not until she’d seen them.

A few more yards and she heard a few new voices one was certainly male and the other female. By the gods she hoped she wasn’t about to walk in on a tryst, that was always very awkward. But still she forged on and in moments took in the pair from behind a small scrubby tree. The woman was as out of place as Mina. The man, he was covered all over in metal and blood. The doctor in her focused on the blood, tracing the patterns it made over the metal with her eyes and deciding that most of it likely wasn’t his, still she felt compelled to step forward and ask,

“Is any of that blood yours?”

A clump of muck chose that moment to drop from her rump to land on the ground with a wet squelch. She rolled her eyes as she shook her head. She really hated that sound.

[Rtron]

Drachma reacted as soon as he heard the voice whirling around with a snarl, his blade stopping several inches from the human's throat when he realized she proved no threat. He lowered his sword slowly, blinking. The woman was wearing a dress. And jewelry. And had a flower in her hair. She even looked more out of place than even him in his bloodstained armor. This was strange. Very, very strange. He realized she had asked him a question. "I've no clue. Certainly not home." He said, his rough and guttural voice being accented by slight animalistic growls. He was still perplexed by the human woman. She was clearly in the same boat as him, but was definitely not from his war-torn, people had to be ready for violence in a moment's notice, world. Only the very rich wore such frippery, and they were basically walking moons. Several of his brethren had sworn that they could feel a gravitational pull when the rich walked by. Then, he heard someone else coming through the foliage behind him. With another snarl, he whirled around yet again his sword pointing at the newcomer.

Another human. A woman. With even longer hair than the other one. At least she looked a bit more prepared as she wasn't in a dress, jewelry, and had a flower. She had a sword and bow, though the bow looked far more used an din better condition. At least she was wearing some sort of armor. "Very little of it is my own. Even then, they are only scratches." He responded to the woman. He was briefly confused as to why she had asked, when he noted the medical supplies she had. All appeared to be hand made, but then again, Drachma wasn't a good judge of anything but swords and armor. He lowered his blade once more, and turned to look between the to. "I'm assuming neither of you have any idea where we are?"

[Viv]

It wasn't the first time the earth had opened up and swallowed her without consent and she doubted very seriously that it’d be the last, but nevertheless it set her mood a bit sour to be forced anywhere. She’d taken ownership of her own destiny many moons ago and would have words and a lovely fight with the bastard that found it appropriate to rip her from her only days of rest ahead in the last few months. She reached out to press her fingers into the swirling orange ether as her body moved through time and space, no map laid out to give guidance as to where she might be going. She slowed only a bit, the tunnel that pulled at her essence was strong magic, old magic… all of which intrigued her slightly.

She was still dressed in her work clothes, her tight black body suit covering her from ankle to wrist and waist to throat, the only skin showing was that of her face, her hair pulled in a tight bun without adoration of jewels or color of any sort. She was a hunter, an assassin if needed. She had not time for dressing up and playing host to those that would come to take and yet never think to give back.

Isabella dropped from the portal, her hands grabbing onto the last limb of an old oak tree, moss covering the majority of the living legend, allowing her to assist her descent to be only slightly unpleasant. Her feet touched the ground, sinking into the bogs of the swap, but the variation of jades and yellows that surrounded her pulled her from a string of complaints at the mugginess and filthiness that would ensure due to the nature of the place she’d been called to. Her slender fingers reached out and caressed a trail of light green leaves, pink veins pulling from the centers of the plant. A smile touched her lips at the beauty that could easily be lost if not careful.

The sound of others ahead of her pulled her from her reverie and she moved cautiously, watching the only male in the small clearing pull his sword a few too many times. She decided not to give her thoughts on the matter as she wasn’t interested in making friends or enemies, but in understanding who had brought her here. She moved to stand beside the less prissy female and let her gaze touch the males.

“Don’t bother pulling your sword… I’d quickly embarrass you in front of your new friends.” She winked and moved into the clearing a little further, her head tilting back to look for a remnant of a sun or something that produce the light that surrounded them. The thick growth around her snuffed out her efforts, but she enjoyed the quaintness of being surrounded by things that were alive and yet had to hands to take something from you – no mouth to bitch at you – no nefarious intent to stab at you. She turned and looked at the three in the circle, knowing that any question of where they were or who brought them here might be lost on this montly crew.

“I’m Isabella, a Fae from Efferon. I assume you all dropped from the sky and now we wait for someone or something to show up and explain why? “ She smiled and looked up toward the crow, so very out of place in the middle of a swamp.

[Cairomaru]

Ridelle's eyes widened as the sword was inches away from her. Wasn't exactly smart of her to approach someone so dangerous while still a bit dazed. The sword's wielder slowly lowered his blade, eyeing her under his mask. Eventually, he answered her question, and he had no idea either. She sighed as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Ridelle jumped a bit when she the creature spun around quickly, pointing his blade at another person, this time a human woman. "Okay, I'm getting sick of this one... I'll just calm him down a bit." She thought to herself, crossing her arms once again. She opened her mouth slightly to start singing, but something weird happened. Something that never happened before. She couldn't sing. Or at least, no sound was coming out of her mouth. She could still talk, but couldn't actually sing? "What the hell is going on?" She added to her thoughts, holding her throat with one hand.

The male asked another question, which grabbed her attention away from her thoughts. She let go of her throat before responding. "No, your guess is as good as mine." Then another human showed up out of nowhere and teased the armor clad creature. She introduced herself soon after. "Ridelle, pleased to meet you. I don't think I fell from the sky, but hopefully, someone will explain what is happening." She said as her eyes followed where Isabella's went to; looking upon a crow.

[Jack Rinner]

Jack closed his eyes tight when he felt the flames start to crawl up his legs, this was what he wanted, just one last trick... to dissapear. Wishing harder than ever to be devoid of this world he suddenly felt as if he was no longer sitting, but falling instead. As Jack opened his eyes, he watched as branches whisked past his face, only to land in an arkward squatting position right in a soft, wet pile of what he hoped was mud. Landing with a thud, he managed to arkwardly twist his ankle just enough to belch out a painful yelp. He frantically looked around at his forested surroundings wondering where his tiny carpet-lined room went. Did he just die? Was this heaven, or possibly even hell? But his ankle hurt, you can't feel pain if your dead. Could you? This was all a bit too much too quickly.

Jack completely froze all his thoughts and layed back in the newly discovered cool, wet, mossy ground. Opening his mind and forcing his senses to work one at a time. "Touch... soft, wet, dirty earth. Not a wooden floor, must mean I'm outside. Smell... musky yuck! Nowhere close to my usual sandalwood and burbon mixture, the humidity don't help either. Sight.... obviously forest, people.... people?" Jack sat back up and stared at the three women accompanied by rather large ironclad figure. "How queer! Such arkward garb for a group.... obviously not related, unless they are costumes.... if so I must compliment you sir, that almost looks like real blood." Jack stopped as his nostrils filled with the rustic coppery smell of freshly spilled blood. Something he was all to familiar with filling his facial features when he was accompanied by loan sharks. "Oh! Nope it is real blood hmm..." Jack snapped his fingers in response to his sudden hypothesis. "PURGATORY! That's it! I'm dead, in purgatory, waiting for judgement.... all is clear now." Jack said to himself as he turned towards the fancifully dressed woman.

He gave a wince and a groan as he got up onto his feet and brushed off the dirt stuck to his grey suitpants. Attempting to give a step forward towards the others he felt a sharp pain hit his ankle yet again. "Yeouch! Terribly sorry I'm not used to falling from the sky. I must admit, I assumed spontaneous combustion proved to be a bit more painful before death, but I'm surely not complaining." Jack said with a smile. "So how did you fine ladies and... umm gentleman die?" He stood arkwardly, favoring his ankle. looking down to see his nicely polished shoes were now half burnt, and half-full of mud. His pants and shirt seem unscathed as well aside from some occasional dirt here and there. Quickly he checked his pockets noticing he had his lighter, but no cigarettes. He quickly frowned upon realization he died dropping his last cigarette. "Don't suppose any of you smoke do you?"

[Orion86]

Byron looked at the orders that had been left on the small wooden table in the middle of the room and then collected his thing to depart. Once he was ready with everything that he was likely to need for his mission he headed for the door, he only stopped to take a long pull on the bottle of whiskey on the dresser. Now he was ready for anything that the world could throw at him and it had tried in the past to throw everything that it had at him. While working for Spookhouse he had seen many things and had nearly lost his life on a dozen different occasions, but he was a survivor and had come back from missions that had claimed the lives of many others. As he put his hand on the door knob, turning it as he did so he felt the unmistakeable pull of magic and then everything went dark for a moment.

The door opened but it was not the hall of his apartment that he saw but some sort of swamp. He stepped through the door way, although he could have walked around it as there was no longer a wall where it had once been. Then he looked back and even the door was gone and there was only the swamp, he had been in several swamps in his time and they all had the same smell. A normal man would panic but Byron was no normal man, he had felt the magic and merely assumed he had been summoned by one of the Master Magi of Spookhouse, it wouldn't have been the first time that they had done so.

Looks like you have managed to get your self into a real mess this time Byron baby!!! What are you going to do this time, no team members to throw to the wolves this time, looks like you are just going to have to take your lumps...

Byron focused on the voice at the back of his head and pressed back on it with his own mind,

Back in your box Raven! Nothing out here for you to kill yet, so just shut up and let me get my bearings.

Byron was used to interference of his other half by now and it was something that he just took in his stride. Now he just had to find where on Earth he actually was and he would be cooking on gas. Byron was just about to climb one of the trees when he heard voices to his left, it seemed like he wasn't alone but that at least meant that he might be able to get some answers. He moved as silently as he could in the dense woodland and came across the group that where having some sort of discussion. Listening in it seemed that they too had been summoned to this strange place and answers wouldn't be forth coming.

Lighting one of his cigars he walked towards the group of people. Byron was cautious by nature, you didn't live as long as he had in his line of work, so he had his right hand in his pocket, holding onto the Webly revolver. He had decided that the best course of actions was to find out what ever information he could and then make his own way to civilization. As he drew closer he noticed that not all of the group where completely human, a couple had the tang of magic to them but it was not any sort of magic that he knew. When he was close enough he raised his left hand in welcome,

"Hello friends, I don't suppose that any of you fine 'people' could point me in the right direction for London? As soon as someone is able to do this I shall get out of your hair!"

He put on his most cordial English accent and hoped that it worked, there seemed to be some tension in the air.

[Fallenreaper]

One moment, she was about to be punched in the face by a dwarf then the next she was outside. Angel was little, okay a lot, confused at what had just happened. Greenery was the first thing that caught her eyes, making her red ponytailed head turn about to drink in the scenery, so different and rich from the Seaside Tavern she been in. The trees, tall and pride, stood staring at her while others seemed to race along the ground, covering anything and everything in moss or grass. Squelch mud flowed through her naked toes, coating them and peering over the cracks causing her to wiggle them. Angel found herself giggling a bit at the cold feeling and funny noise, trying to grasp some in her curling feet. Squelch, squelch, and more squelch went the rich water logged dirt before her feet was completely buried.

Grism on the other hand was upset. His scarf form took on eyes, lifting the head end upright off her shoulder when he realized his target had vanished and the place had changed. It blinked once then twice. Angel’s attention was taken from the mud at feeling her shadow’s shiver course through his being, fluttering across her skin and showing his worry. Instinctively she stroked his flat back with her forefinger and let little hushes sooth his erect, edgy form.

“It’s alright Grism…I’m sure someone’s spell just went wrong is all. Remember how Kolli always tried to teach me that healing spell but it kept back firing? You were fidgeting so badly when I ended up looking like a half rabbit with long fluffy bunny ears and a cotton tail, but it wasn’t anything serious. Someone may have been summoning something and got the spell wrong is all. I sure that’s it. So let’s go tell whoever or whatever to send us home or at least point us to the tavern, does that make you feel better?”

The shadow nodded, his bristled form smoothed out some at her suggestion. Little her feet had begun to sink and now she knew was probably a good time to move, in moments her feet would be too low for her to move. Her eyes spotted a patch of green just a step away, looking solid and walkable despite its wet look. It made her smile as Angel jerked her leg, mud above the foot, up and pushed forward to it. The thick ick clanged to her skin, darkening and dirtying the white flesh in brown before sinking pass the leafy green of what she thought was solid land. That was new, she thought playfully as the foot sank out of sight only to stop. Grism hissed in alarm. He didn’t like that anymore than the strange place they were in, his form slithering from her shoulder making her arm create a ramp for him to perch on the muddy spot. It didn’t take long for his solid form to begin sinking as well, gaining another hiss.

It only had her raise a brow at him and frown,” I don’t think that will help much here. So what do we do now?”

Grism hopped a bit, not bothering shifting form, to test the area looking rather funny in his action. It made Angel shake her head at his antics with smirk before Grism turned to see a large tree just a few feet away. Shimmering, his form changed and became vapor that soon was wafting across the mucky ground and towards the tree like a dark mist. Crossing her arms in front her chest Angel just swayed back and forth still firmly stuck, her boredom becoming impatience from the watching Grism try to latch onto the tree bark. Viewing his body sprouting wings darting over the swamp mud while a tail of black lead back to her, he reached out a claw to barely brush a branch out of reach, his growls of frustrations at his short comings made her wonder if everything was alright. This wasn’t right. Just as she was about to ask Grism a question, sound, voices were talking somewhere made her eyes look about every which way for the source. Everything looked the same from her slowly sinking figure.

“HEY!” Angel’s hands cupped about her mouth, her shouts seemed to echo around her and fade into the swamp. Once more, she in haled and shouted again, not waiting to see if anyone could hear her,” HEY! I’M STUCK, WHERE ARE YOU? I KNOW YOU’RE THERE! CAN I GET SOME HELP?”