Exalted

[Arthera]

When the men dismounted, Anya played the cautious but curious cat, edging back and forth, as if unsure if it was safe to approach. She followed them to the entrance of their lodging, before they closed the door on her, refusing her access. If a cat could pout, Anya would be doing it right now, but the short term refusal of entry was not really important, she had learned a few things from the little she had interacted with them. For one thing, they spoke a language she could understand, which opened up many possibilities. The second thing she learned, due to the first, was that these two were either insane in some manner, or had dealings with things normal people normally never have.

There was mention of having a house cooking for them, potentially due to a demon living in it? Were they referring to this location? They willingly took meat from demons and were even considering leaving some out for her, a cat? Were they demons themselves or simply pawns? They spoke of being different than others, which could be a clue, or an affirmation, of what they were. They did not feel nauseating, or in any way that Anya would guess they should feel like, never having actually met any demons, but that did not clear them of doubt. She could change shape and demons could be able to hide their natures, although why they would bother doing so away from everyone and anything in the middle of the woods did not make much more sense to Anya at the moment. Still, this was a rather important piece of knowledge, one she could mull over outside their demon home, or whatever it was.

It was only some time later, after Anya had decided napping on it would be good for her, changing shape often included taking a lot of traits from the shape she was in, that the door opened again. The warrior of the lot was out with a steaming bowl of...rice...meat...stuff in his hands. How or why he thought a cat would eat rice was beyond her, but it was a kindly gesture sure enough. Anya had retreated a few steps, then slowly made her way towards the man, letting out a meow in greeting before moving close enough to smell him. He did not smell like something from another world of existence, and after she had nuzzled his hand, she could not say he felt any different than a normal human. He was stronger than most, if only for the fact he carried armor and weapons seemingly too heavy for normal men, but otherwise not very special-looking. She smelled the food and discovered that it was from one of those placid animals people kept for later killing. The practice of it all sounded silly to her even after all this time, but town people were lazy and adverse to hunting for their food, so it did not exactly surprise her either. She nibbled on some of the meat, deciding to believe that what they had with them was safe to eat, before returning her attention towards the man.

She stayed with the him for the time he spent outside with her, urging him for a few scratches behind the ears while he was still willing to be useful. Eventually he returned inside, likely to go to sleep, and Anya decided to remain outside as a cat for a while more, no reason to change shape when the current one was good enough. She could be around this place to investigate for a while yet and still seem natural, they had just fed her and she would naturally stick around for a while for another handout if she was a normal cat. The moon was up, partially obscured by clouds and overhanging branches, swaying in the faint nightly breeze. It had become cooler, changing to a temperature Anya found still quite cozy, cat or no cat, and she was planning her next move when the dull sound of stricken wood was heard from somewhere on the other side of the structure.

Stealthily speeding along the outside, Anya made her way to the faintly glowing side of the place, taking in the sight from her hidden spot in a nearby bushy growth of leaves. For some reason, the warrior's companion was hitting wooden men, coming out of the ground no less, in succession as if tagging them. Anya understood the reasoning scan moments later as some form of training while unarmed, of which Anya took some interest in. His movements were foreign to what she herself knew, and she took time to study what she could from his practice against increasingly numerous and spread foes. His body started to glow during his exercise, a golden aura that reminded her of the other man wore earlier, and which distantly tickled memories buried in the back of her mind. The fact it was eerily similar, and yet completely different, from what she herself could do did register with her, and she decided to think about that later on. Discovering what these two men were likely merited more than a little snooping around. When she returned her focus on the bare-first fighter, he did not seem able to strike at the two spread targets in the time given to him and decided his best recourse was to smash one very, very well in compensation, smashing it into splinters.

His fist more than dented the thing, sending sharp splinters and burying his fist in it. As he pulled his injured hand out, he seemed to focus briefly. And the man could heal! His wounds visibly diminished as Anya watched, the scarlet flow halted and then flesh closing up as if nothing had ever occurred. Before having the time to sort thoughts in her mind, the man called out to the darkness, he felt spied upon. Anya was certain she had not been seen, he was not looking at her and she had made no sound that would betray her position. Perhaps there was another intruder nearly which she had missed, which meant that staying hidden was even more important. Which she did, using her current form and her own abilities for such an action into play, crouching lower in her plant and darkness cover.

[Informatix]

Crane wasn't quite sure what to make of this strange cat - at first, it had appeared to be really out of place here in the wood, but his lacking expertise with animals did not allow for a better idea than "abandoned pet". Her behaviour seemed to fit with this idea, he reasoned - apparently, it didn't like rice, but chewed on the minced meat that the Manse had prepared for them a while ago - he still liked to watch how the food and cooking implements were floating and working all by themselves. It seemed to speak of ancient, lost glories of the First Age.. well, perhaps not for so long anymore. If the rulers of the old times were now returning, how long would it take for their glory to shine once again?

"Not very hungry, are you?" He asked, as the cat decided to end her meal, and was almost sorry for the unused food - perhaps he could get Physician to eat it? Crane almost never acted on this impulse for the practical jokes that were abound in mercenary bands, but that didn't mean he was forbidden to enjoy the thought of it now and then.

Meanwhile, the cat seemed more interested in him than in her food. He had never had a pet of any kind - the village of his childhood had kept a few dogs and cats to take care of the small predators plaguing any small farming village, but they did not exactly belong to him - indeed, mostly steered clear of him after the beginning of his apprenticeship. He could not help but to remember the old time as he absent-mindedly scratched the cat's ears (she - if it was a she - seemed to like that). Oh, how he had toiled in the small witch hut, mixing powders and learning astrological charts, constructing his first primitive charms and incantations .. it was nothing compared to the true power of the Exalted host, but Crane remembered it fondly. Learning the principles of essence under the tutelage of a wiser master had been a valuable experience - and, as he now knew, the third of the Five Trials of the sorcerer. He wondered .. what had he sacrificed, back when he mastered his first spell - the names of power, binding and wrapping the wind to his desire, the pattern of Essence forced upon it by pure force of will. Invoking it still filled him with a measure of that primal joy, the triumph of enlightened will over the petty laws of creation. But still - what price had he paid? His old life as a mere mortal? And if so - what would he have to pay next?

The cat, of course, did not have to concern itself with such weighty matters. Crane found that he began to envy it, and quickly rose to his feet - it was time to return to work and study, not get yet another mouth to feed. Physician was likely already training, and he would rather not be bested by his older friend.


Noticing that the doctor was already occupying the training range, and not wanting to intrude on him, Crane decided to spend the evening on a more interesting course of action - with a quick leap, he jumped atop a small wall of green stone, balancing easily atop it's narrow margin, then hurried along towards the smaller outliers of the main building that were resting serenely in the moonlight. A deep breath, and a jump - he landed barely at the edge of the rooftop, but did not hesitate to keep running. Not that he intended to add yet another speed march to today's exercise - this was only an interesting way to get him to the small central tower, otherwise reachable only by a narrow staircase that was cleverly hidden in the depths of the manse's puzzling architecture - he had taken quite a while to figure out the trick in navigating the rooms, and it seemed prudent to check if a mobile enemy couldn't simply bypass it entirely.

To his satisfaction, however, Crane noted that he couldn't quite do that - his jumps simply did not carry him high enough, and whatever invader that would try to get to the controls would have to outdo him in this reguard. Smiling in humility, Crane dropped down to the ground level and went by the rather humbling way of using the door instead.

As he had reached the tower, the sorcerer closed his eyes for a moment, opening his mind to the currents of essence. He was Exalted now, and the primal force of Creation came to him as easy as the sweet, cold night air would come to any mortal standing in his place. When he opened his eyes, he could watch the Physician train against his dreaded arch-nemesis - a menacing tag-team of wood puppets - and critique his handling of essence as easily as his combat movements. Really, he did rather well, and Crane was about to praise his companion as the Physician stopped, turned, and called out to someone in the dark. Frowning, the Dawn caste was glad he had not yet put away his weapon, heavy as it was, and grabbed it as he hurried downstairs to the training area.

[Nigawatts]

Twilight
It was early morning, and already the village of Last Legs was up and working. Sunrise had to beaten in times like these, and during the blue hour a lot of work needed to be done. The Elder stood next to his assistant and one of the senior farmers named Oki. Last Leg's was a collaborative effort, and in order to get the amount of crop needed to become successful the Elder needed men like Oki to understand that and get the workers in line.

"We need to harvest as much of the early crop as we can before noon. My messengers tell me a small caravan should be arriving in our town this morning and we need to sell as much as we can spare. We'll need the silver before the summer hits, there are still a lot of things we need from the cities upriver that we can't get on our own." The Elder said softly but sternly. Oki simply nodded. The man was of few words, and that was something the Elder was glad for. The workers listened to him because he was strong and experienced enough to do double their work apiece, and the Elder was thankful that he wasn't very ambitious. In his late years, the Elder hadn't been able to visit the fields in months, and many people would soon wonder if his leadership was truly necessary.

"Sir, Nagi's guardian says that he's doing much better today, and that he'll be able to work." One of the Elder's aids replied after Oki left to go talk to the group of workers waiting to head to the fields. The Elder nodded solemnly, but quickly replied "Tell Nagi that he needs to stay up in the hut for a few more days. Many people around here still think he has the plague and will need more than the words of a traveling doctor to change their minds."

While it was true that the Physician had gave the Elder his word that the boy was cured, the Elder still preferred to be more safe than sorry. Besides Nagi wasn't the strongest hand they had in the field, and his loss for a few more days wouldn't hurt. They would simply have to work the boy harder when he was finally able to come back.

"Sir, the rider we sent to look for the Caravan has returned."

"What?! So soon?" The Elder had sent one of the younger boys with a horse to go great the Caravan and lead them back to the village. The Elder had at first been apprehensive about wasting a horse for something other than field work, but he wanted to be sure about the size and makeup of the Caravan before the early harvest. He was hoping for some good trading. A small caravan would probably be just looking for their next meal, but a large caravan would be looking for an addition to their trading route. That hope had given the Elder a little bounce in his step this morning, even if it was a low chance.

With a weary push of his walking staff, the Elder turned his eyes toward the entrance to the Village. After a few heartbeats the sound of Horse galloping on soil could be heard. The village had been build on the side of a hill with the entrance at it's summit. When the boy and the horse finally rode over the hill, everyone immediately knew something was wrong. The horse was running wildly, scared of something unseen and simply returning home out of instinct. The rider, his body slumped on the back, was headless and bloody.

"What in Creation?!?!?"

*****

Daybreak
As the sun rose, the workers were not in the fields. They all stood huddled around the Elder's hut in the center of the village. Some wondering, a few crying, and all of them afraid. The boys body had been laid to rest on the floor of the Elder's hut as he and a few of the older men in the village talked. They had laid a blanket over his body, and next to it his mother wept silently. The boy had only seen 12 summers.

"We have to find help!"

"Help? Who the hell could help us all the way out here?! We should be mounting defense."

"What could have killed the boy out there? We're not near any monsters."

"What monster could cut through a neck like that, there wasn't even any tear, just a clean cut."

"Maybe the caravan knows what happened!"

"The caravan should have been here by now! And who's to say they weren't the ones who did it!"

"SILENCE!" The Elder finally yelled. As the commotion in the hut became almost unbearable and the cries of the mother becoming louder. With a nod to his assistant, the mother was escorted out of the hut. The men who had been shouting a few moments ago seemed lethargic. The fact that one of their own had been murdered hadn't sunk in to half of them. And for the other half, the fact that the village was in serious trouble hadn't sunk in either.

The Elder realized quickly that if they were attacked it wouldn't matter how well they prepared. The village had no weapons, besides whatever makeshift attacks you could make with farming equipment. They would get slaughtered if this turned into more than just a beast attack. From the look of the wounds on this poor child, the Elder knew that whatever killed him wasn't a beast, and what they used to kill him was not some makeshift tool. It was a blade that had been created to kill efficiently, and brutally.

"We have to do something Elder, if we don't their could be a panic." The Elder's oldest aid, a girl in her late teens who had yet to be married, looked at her Elder with large frightened eyes. But the Elder could tell that the fear did not cause her to panic, and her words were correct. They needed to do something to at least get everyone's minds working.

"You are correct child. Gentlemen please rise up. Oki please take the body to the shrine. The rest of you, grab whatever arms you find suitable and take posts on the perimeter of the village. Oki when you return grab as many able men as you can and search for any signs of danger outside the village. Don't stray too far, but see if you can find whatever may have caused this tragedy." The Elder commanded with an expression that held no fear and no hesitation. It was a face he had not used since he lead his family and neighbors out of the ruins of Thorns.

At that time, death's hand had grasped at the back of his coattails. That had been the most frightening part of his long life, and he had been unsure if his heart could relive it. But once again seeing the faces of those too afraid to act, or to uncoordinated to make a choice, had shown him that he was still prepared to fight for his life.

"Together we will stand strong. Whatever is out there will not find us unprepared! I promise that so lo-" Before the Elder could make his promise, his voice was cut off by the arrow that had not lodged it's way into his chest. The others looked at him astonished. Even simple Oki, held an expression of surprise that betrayed his dullish stare. The Elder could feel the arrow, but he could not feel the pain. He was thankful for that as life slipped from his old body and brought him back into the well of souls.

For he would not escape the hand of death twice.

*****

Crimson Sun
Sunrise always seemed brighter than sunset. The light of the sun pierces the darkness of night and with it comes a new day. Orange, yellow, and red fills the sky. On the fields of Last Legs, the workers would enjoy the sun's rays burn away the chill of twilight. Today however, nobody was able to rightly praise the Unconquered Sun's greatest gift to Creation. The Champions of Darkness made sure of that.

They had arrived on the outskirts of town mere minutes after the boy arrived back in town, dead on horseback. The soldiers of the damned had waited patiently, as their mistress held them back. She had felt the fear festering in the town and had wanted to let it ferment for awhile longer.

When she finally ordered her attack, her undead minions sent a volley of arrows hurtling toward the village. One lucky shot in the first volley is what sent the village Elder to his early grave. As panic spread across the village, the undead riders charged into the village. The speed of their charge allowed them to trampled several villagers while a few unluckier ones got skewered on their yari.

As the bloodshed increased, a few villagers sought arms to protect themselves. A group of peasants working together were actually able to bring one of the riders down to the ground. Their victory was short lived however, when they realized their sickles and pitchforks barely caused any damage to the undead soldier, and no pain at all. His comrades quickly came to his aid, and easily outflanked the villagers. The ease at which the Undead riders could toss aside the makeshift weapons of mortals, made it seem as if children were fighting them.

Soon fires spread across the town. Those who could escape the carnage fled toward the river, and those brave enough tried to swim across it. A shower of arrows met them while they crossed. Soon their dead bodies could be seen floating to the top of the river by the dozens, gently heading downstream.

A few hours after sunrise Ghost Fox Killer marched through the husk of the village. The entire village population was either dead or dieing. Her master would be happy to hear that this place would soon be a small Shadowland. Already her soldiers were fording the river and heading into the forest. There she would follow the memories of her Exaltation and find the prize her master sought to possess.

******

Noon
Lou yawned as he rolled over in his bed. He had slept late, after having a late night training session, and expending so much Essence. His body was still a bit tired but he was no longer willing to stay in bed. Rising up and stretching he once again found himself alone. Crane must have awoken much earlier, since most of his stuff was either put away neatly or missing. Lou wondered if the young man had found a technique to keep from having to sleep like most people. Lou shook his head at that notion and figured the man was simply more driven.

After having a little breakfast, and taking a bath in the manse's splendid cleaning room, Lou decided to get some fresh air. As he opened the door, the smell of death on the air was nearly suffocating and as he looked to the sky, he could see smoke rising from the direction of Last Legs.

"By the gods."

[Hymusia]

In the dead of night a golden glow caught her attention from her peripheral vision, the little Aye aye had curled up in her lap asleep and she was rather reluctant to move and risk it's wrath at a sudden and rude awakening. They had sharp little teeth after all and while their fingers were long and spindly they were still tipped with claws. However it seemed familiar, that golden light, it reminded her of someone, or something, a memory as vague and incomplete as the moon's reflection on the sea. By the time she had decided to go towards the light coming from the same direction as the pagoda she had visited earlier, the light was gone, and with it her curiosity faded also. It was not, after all, her business to investigate the manse, the people in it or any mysterious golden lights coming from it.

By morning the Aye aye was gone, and she too was well on her way, slipping through the tree's and swapping leaf litter for dirt, and plants and shrubs for grass and weeds. The golden light had been rationalised to one of several things and none of which were her business, her business was waiting for her the next city over and she had no desire to indulge a little curiosity and risk her reputation. She was so much more than her animal spirit after all and being sensible was one of those things a Lunar just had to know how to be. Once again her head scarf was in place, pinning down and hiding her ears, forcing them flat against her head. Her hair had been tightly braided that morning and swung behind her like a pendulum alternating to the opposite hip of her leading leg.

It was while she walked and attempted to shake the feeling of familiarity and then loss from that pagoda earlier, that she spotted the smoke and fire of the village beside the river. For a moment she did nothing but watch and listen, watching as people were executed without mercy, polluting the river only the day before had been used as a bath. Blood and death was everywhere on the air, enough to make her eyes water and sting from the rancid smell. A massacre, nothing more nor less than that, hundreds of people, she could hear their screams and sobs even with her ears pinned down.

The clanking movement of heavy feet against the ground forced her to hide behind the nearest cover, a tall, thick evergreen shrub, which she crouched behind and watched intently from. People were moving, they didn't pass anywhere near her, but she could tell they weren't normal people, they weren't alive in the normal sense. As they moved into the jungle she wondered what exactly it could be that they were going to look for, what could be of so much importance that they'd wipe out a village and then, further, march into the jungle as if it had always been their target. It seemed ludicrous that the manse was the target, and yet, it seemed the only possible target.

It was none of her business though, she had no connection to the people or that place, despite the fact that a voice inside her said otherwise. Yet she could not let these soulless ass holes, these killers of children to get away with anything they felt like, low in her throat she already felt the growl rumbling quietly into the air around her. Everything died, people died fighting all the time, but children? How could anyone be so heartless as to kill a child, how could anyone be so dishonourable! Defenceless and terrified, no doubt forced to watch their own parents die before they too were murdered. For what? What threat did those people pose, what threat would children pose? What possible gain could there be for anyone?

Her pupils contracted into reptilian slits, a by product of her anger, she owed the people at the pagoda nothing, but these adversaries, she owed them nothing but swift and painful death. Her first thought was to simply kill the undead vermin, to transform into something too big for them to stop easily and flatten them all. However the jungle would prove to thick for her to manoeuvre very easily or use any of her innate ability in that form. She'd be pinned down, nothing more than a giant snake with a mouthful of teeth a big as a person's forearm. Dangerous, but not deadly. Rolling her shoulders she sighed and removed the scarf from her head. Then peeled off her clothes and stuffed the lot into her shoulder bag. Fastening it shut as tightly as she was able before slipping the strap across her shoulders so it rested with the satchel against her bag and was pinned in place by her arms and shoulders themselves. Her eyes briefly flickered, the green eye matching the ice blue one, both with feline slits, her skin became thicker and colours began to appear like bruises, bleeding into the surface of her skin to mark out patterns and shapes. Her rune covered bloody dully glowed while the mark on her forehead trembled with the pale blue white light, around her legs and behind her her Anima began to shine like a ghost.

Her nails turned black and became thick and hooked, her rib cage cracked and creaked as her long platinum hair began to snap and fall away into a short spiky bob. Her skull flattened and became wider, her mouth and nose becoming more pronounced as short white hair's began to sprout across her body. It was now she began to run, swift and true she knew where she was going, and as black fur filled in the bruise like markings her spine elongated creating a long tail that swayed behind her and acted as a rudder and balance. Her knee's broke and twisted as she ran, her hands producing thick leathery pads and soon she was running on all fours. Before she'd made it one hundred feet her mouth was lined with flesh rending teeth, her nose was leathery and wet, her skin had transformed into thick fur and her limbs were of equal length.

By two hundred metres the snow leopard was sprinting through the forest with the silence of such a noble killer and the skill one would expect of the feline race. Her long plush tail was used to keep her from crashing, her thick paws were silent even against the driest leaves, her body was made for running and hunting. It didn't take her long to over take the undead huntsmen that were on their way, and no doubt they wouldn't even realise it, the shadows from the sun hid her amongst the foliage rather well, no more than brief streak of white in the eyes of prey and potential predator a like. The only thing marking her different from any other snow leopard was the faint blue white glow of her tattoo's and the faint but noticeable shine of the crescent moon upon her forehead. Both which faded and disappeared as she reached the steps of the pagoda and bounded up them with due haste.

The doors of the manse did not slow her, with a bound from the fence she reached a low hanging limb and from there she bounded onto the roof. Ducking her head and rolling her shoulders the bag fell from her back and spilled onto the roof tiles where she left it as she sprinted across them to face the courtyard. Hearing the door open she turned and made her way towards the noise, her ears flicking as she heard the sound of a muttered exclamation. It was one of the men from yestereve, she didn't pause but leaped before him, landing with all the grace of a silent predator and offering a growl which was supposed to be a warning rather than threatening. Further proved as the large beast turned and faced down the steps, the growl rumbling in her throat but her eyes fixated on the entrance where the undead riders would soon be approaching. Her shoulders lower than her hind quarters, her tail deathly still between her back legs and her ears up and alert to any small change in the air currents.

[Arthera]

Despite last night's wooden men scene, Anya had not seen, heard or encountered anything out of the ordinary and had quickly lost interest in remaining in her bush. Instead, she had opted to climb a tree, as cats were liable to do anyway, and found a comfortable place to sleep for the night. She had eaten, had her fun for the day in any case and decided to stick around at least until tomorrow's high sun before deciding to either carry on her way or remain a little longer. Her thoughts tried to make sense of everything she had seen and dwelled on the place she was nearby, but Anya always preferred to trust her instincts and all this thinking was making her lose sleep. After falling asleep, Anya only woke up at the sound of early birds chirping the next day. The sun was still low on the horizon, long shadows of pre-dawn gloom playing across the leaves and only the faint glow of light filtering through the canopy told Anya it was indeed a new day. She stretched, shaking off a faint mist of dew from her gray fur before looking around. Everything was as she had left it yesterday, the men living here not having gotten around to smashing the walls in yet.

"Men may be the wrong term." mused Anya, they were clearly something else, mortals did not glow or smash wooden dolls in a single blow and one carried items likely not meant for simple human muscles to bear. They also lived in a house that had a demon cooking for them. If nothing else, Anya should remain around simply to determine what they were and if they were a danger to others. Her instincts told her they were not a problem, but then again she could be wrong, however much that rankled her. In any case, morning was not the time to ponder such things, she was hungry, and since she really did not want to change shape, she determined that a bite-sized snack would make due, until her nearby "hosts" decided to feed the cat again, hopefully with less rice and more meat in the mix.

It was after a short hunt, and making the world a safer place due to one less squirrel, that Anya noticed the sound. It was faint, carried on the wind and channeled through the packed trees, the distant sound of screams. Her hearing in her current form was keen, and she doubted it was a trick of the wind, but on the other hand, such a distance was not something she would be able to cover as easily to verify. With a resigned sigh, Anya formed the image of the shape she wished to take, sitting on her branch as she did so, there would be no need for more space to accommodate her desired form. Fur slowly elongated into feathers, the color darkening to a dull black, while her shape compressed, shifted and twisted. Front paws into what became wings, lower legs thinning, claws changing into small talons, face stretching to accommodate a beak. In a flash, Anya was a crow, easily hidden in shadows and, if her guess was correct, the kind of animal to be seen near the source of the scream.

After spreading her wings, Anya took off, swiftly taking to the air in the direction of the scream. She made good time, catching favorable winds, all the while hearing more of the screams, now clearly heard as cries for help and shouts of terror. They stopped completely some time before she actually reached the source, a small farming village nestled in the hills. Anya skipped over the details, having seen savagery in many forms, and instead looked for the culprit. There would be no survivors to this, no point in looking for any, any that had managed to escape would not have been in the village at all when the butchery started. Instead, her acute eyes picked up the trail that left the village and entered the woods, in the direction of the two stranger's demon-cook house. Taking wing once more, Anya made her way back, slowing down to catch a glimpse of what was making the bloody tail. What she saw explained a lot, but also left many questions on top. Undead. Vile, wretched, shambling undead, a good number on foot, ringed by riders. Those on the ground looked different, and the sight of children in their midst made the truth worse, they were the villagers, raised as fodder and marched along.

As much as Anya wanted to wade in right now, to lay waste to this wave of walking monstrosity, she knew that there was strength in numbers. How she would hide her nature from those in the house was a problem for later, for now she had to reach the place before the undead wave got there. Taking flight once more, taking care to remain well out of sight from anything in the thong that was controlling the others, Anya made her way back with only a few minutes to spare. She was nearing the structure and was flying low between the branches, about to simply fly into the house and transform to warn the inhabitants, when she spied the great cat, a leopard, standing guard in front of the door with the wood-splitting man. When did they get a bigger cat? Had it been inside all this time and not come out to play? How rude, and also, strange, how did she not sense it and why did the owners not mention it, or at least understand cats. She doubted they'd feed it rice...

Anya shook her feathered head, now was not the time, already she could spy the first rider, followed by it's horde of mindless puppets, the sound they made already audible. Landing deeper into the woods, at the side of the path, Anya hid well out of sight. Since the people in the house seemed already aware of impending trouble, there was no reason to directly reveal herself in all her splendor, she could aid them while remaining hidden in the woods. The edges of the swarm would be vulnerable to attacks from cover, aided by the fact they seemed to be completely focused on moving in one direction and ignoring everything else. Once more, Anya focused, holding the image of her human form, shifting from bird to woman. The time it took remained the same, but an onlooker would likely panic from seeing the transformation. For her, it seemed nothing more than stretching up from a bed. She took a moment to stretch nonetheless, already forming her clothing and armor into the series of tribal garments she was most used to, there was little reason to remain naked after all. A sidelong glance told her that her tattoos were still hidden from their normal place all along her slender frame.

Now with all the details taken care of, Anya turned to grip the carved shaft of her weapon, leaning against the tree she was hiding behind, materialized now that she was in a form that could wield it. The scythe blade was resting along the leafy ground, it's great power hungry, eager, to destroy the undead abominations, and she was all too willing to oblige. Still, she had to remain cautious. Strike, retreat, hide, pounce further along the line, draw them into the woods, hidden from view. Already, the column of things was making it's way past her, completely ignoring the forest and what it hid, still intent on the location at the end of the trail. The bend in the trail, the size of the undead mass and the thick and packed trees would hide her first strike. She waited for one of the riders to move closer to her hiding place before striking out. It never knew what hit it, if it was even conscious enough to register an attack. Out of the loam along the forest ground, Anya sliced upwards in a mighty arc with her scythe, the blade dulled by the cover of dirt and still-wet leaves clinging to it. The blow struck swift and true, felling not only the target, but cutting a walker on the way up and crushing another when the blade came to rest behind her, sending the two poor souls to their rest.

Quickly, before others could have a glimpse of her presence, Anya retreated into the dense cover of the forest, intent on drawing in more of the mindless things now that she had dealt the first blow. She gripped the shaft tighter, moments used to shift it's appearance, holding a spear now just as deadly as her scythe, but better when confined in narrow spaces as she was amongst the trunks of mighty trees. She did not doubt she could rip them apart with ease with her regular blade, but that would indicate her presence clearly to those she rather avoid warning...


Battle Theme

[Informatix]

When Crane - finally! - got to the training area, he found his companion peacefully sitting on a rest bench in the corner of the room, sipping on a hot tea from the self-cooking kitchen and very much alive and well. The same could be said of the wooden training dolls, who had already knit themselves back together, rejuvenated by the geomantic force that had previously served the mundane prospect of cooking the Zenith caste some tea. "Oh, excuse me .. I was under the impression that something was wrong and came to look if you needed help." He began to explain his sudden appearance - as usual, resorting to more sophisticated speech when he was out of his element. Physician didn't seem to mind, though, as he nearly dropped his tea from joy and jumped from his seat - Crane worried about getting involved in a spontaneous grapple training, but quickly deflected the threat when he pointed out that they could have dinner now, right?
This shouldn't be so easy. Crane mused with a subtle and slightly guilty smile. But it was so convenient..

Sadly, it would turn out to be the last opportunity for such light-hearted thoughts unburdened by greater concerns. The Dawn had withdrawn into the library after breakfast, not wanting to disturb the Physician who was still exhausted from his training. It was funny, he thought, that he as the 'professional' fighter among them wouldn't use the training range nearly as often, but he had always considered such simulations to be crude substitutes for proper battles. If at all, one should spar against an opponent who could talk and offer insight in his thoughts and intentions - the elements of fighting that were usually deciding the outcome, and a wooden marionette, fascinating as it was, would not do that.

When the high-standing sun bathed the little pagoda in it's broad, generous daylight, though, it was over - Crane had just been carrying a few books downstairs, intending to wait outside for the physician, as a big, powerful snow leopard jumped before him, uttering a strangely unthreatening growl. A snow leopard? Here? Even Crane would recognize that this creature was clearly out of place, and quickly understood that it tried to warn them of something. "Wait for a moment." He told the cat - without knowing if it could even understand him, but it was worth a try - and rushed back to wake his companion. Soon, he would have an opportunity to practice his newfound powers against real enemies.

When the first undead were approaching the manse, Crane stepped up to the front line without hesitation. The Wood Pagoda would not fall - not as long as he was still standing and breathing. It was nothing but the tiniest, most insignificant remnant of the past glories, but he would not permit anyone to defile it such! He drew his daiklave from thin air and took a deep breath as he saw the undead approach - shuffling and shambling closer in the crude mockery of life that they were. Bones grinding on bones were slowly tearing the monsters apart, but made them no less effective at killing and maiming. Well .. Crane raised his sword, saluting the golden sun up in the sky, and smiled as a corona of gold-red light danced about the shimmering blade of orichalcum, ready to turn aside the weapons and claws of the undead. Even the burning morning sun shining on his brow with scarlet fire did not turn aside the attackers, but it made little difference. Bidding his time, the former mercenary did not rush into the fray, but waited for his enemies to draw closer .. and closer yet .. the rotten visage of a zombie was mirrored on the perfectly reflective surface of the blade ..

In a quick burst of motion, Crane lashed out, cleanly beheading the zombie, who stumbled on for a few small steps before collapsing, as his ugly head flew off in the brushwood. The undead riders seemed to be made of more resilient stuff, though, and began to advance, their dead horses fearlessly charging at the reborn heroes. After he had made sure that Physician was behind him to keep the gate, Crane darted forward to face one of them, gripping the blade hilt with both hands, and held it almost parallel to the ground. A moment before the edge would connect to the horse's dead flesh and bones, he drew the weapon diagonally upwards in a quick slashing motion. It met little resistence as it passed through mount and rider, severing both of them in two bits with a clean cut.

"I think I recall that face from the village we last visited .." Crane said grimly as he faced the next attacking zombie. His combat experience knew better than to be impeded by the familiarity - the next moment, this will-less flesh puppet would be cleft in half. "Seems like someone .. else has an interest in the area." Naturally, he had heard of the invasions of the dead - who hadn't? - but that they were attacking small villages was .. unnerving, to say the least. An advance party for a greater army, or just a quick stab to unnerve the people and break their spirit? And how had they found out about this place, far away from the next villages?

[Nigawatts]

As the sounds of battle broke into the open field in front of the Wood Pagoda, the Physician saw Crane easily fight off a handful of the undead monsters. At first he had been caught off guard by the situation, but he quickly shook off his surprise and joined the fray.

Lou's fist carried the power not only to crush wood. With a small application of Essence, he could pierce flesh and shatter bone. His hands were the only weapon he needed, and the first enemy he approached on the field learned how easily he could end a life. With a solid punch to the neck Lou's fist broke through the zombies flesh, and tore the base of the spine severing it's head. Even without a head the creature still seemed rather persistent, so Lou gave a swift kick to it's mid section. The hit was hard enough to shatter the bones in it's upper body and send it crashing to the ground a few feet away.

Ahead of him, he could see Crane cut cleanly through a undead horseman with his Daiklaive. Even Lou had to admit it was an impressive feat, but the sight still gave him a little pause as a forgotten memory stirred in his minds eye. Taking advantage of his sudden pause, two more undead villagers came shambling toward him from behind. The first one got an elbow to the face so hard that it's face crushed as the body was sent hurling several feet away. The second one however got lucky and grabbed a hold of Lou with two arms. This zombie was particularly large, and Lou remembered seeing the man in the fields the day before. His face held a fresh cut across the center. As he began to squeeze the life out of Lou blood began to ooze from the hole in his chest that must have been the death wound. Lou was repulsed by the creature. It was not only a mockery of the life that had once occupied this vessel, but it was an affront to all the things that the Unconquered Sun stood for.

Reaching deeper into his inner powers, Lou summoned forth the true power of the Solar Hero. The creature let out a uncaring moan as it continued to squeeze Lou, who's skin began to glow with a light golden shimmer. With the new found power of his Exaltation at his finger tips, Lou pulled his arms over the zombies grip, and brought them down in unison on the creatures shoulders. The blow was met with a sickening crunch as the blow was strong enough to rip both arms off the body. Before Lou fell back to the ground he brought up his foot and kicked off from the creatures chest. With a graceful back flip he landed on his feet once again, and the armless zombie went crashing into the Pagoda's stone steps, it's skull crushing against the rocks.

Lou was solemnly satisfied, until he turned around and saw that many more were shambling through the thicket, unthinkingly heading toward the Manse.

"I think I recall that face from the village we last visited ." Crane called out as Lou finally caught up with him. The two went back to back as more undead closed in around them. "They are from the village, they must have been attacked last night." Lou cried out as another zombie came out at him before a quick combo of punches laid it back down to rest. Lou hoped, although it pained him to do so, that these attackers were only the villagers. If an even larger force was arrayed against them, and these zombies were just the canon fodder, Lou shuddered to think at how long him and Crane could last.

Crashing out of the forest, another Undead Rider broke out into the field. It's horse was dripping with slime and it's yari pointed threateningly toward Lou. With a surprisingly fast stab, it launched it's spear toward Lou's face. The Physician however was faster than he looked and easily dodged out of the way. Turning into the dodge, Lou nimbly came back around and launched his fist into a vicious upper cut. The power of his legs sent him flying up above the horse and into the Riders face. The Solar's glowing aura briefly flared as his fist connected into the creatures jaw, lifting it from it's horse and sending it a couple of yards into the air. When the creature finally hit the ground it was with a resplendent crash that seemed to cause whatever foul spirit was inside the body to escape as a blue smokey aura dissipated form the body. The horse too seemed to have had enough as it's body collapsed into bone and then dust.

[Hymusia]

Either side of her the owners of the manse appeared, leaping into life like stone lion statues to defend their home. They were strong, that much was obvious and they were capable, which was usually less obvious. The way they fought seemed almost familiar, nostalgic perhaps? They battled in the way the masters of old did, the knights and the hero's written in the scrolls and painted on the walls. There was a fluidity, an almost grace to their every movement and she, for just a moment, remained stationary, watching over the fight as if she were the lord of this place and they her warriors.

Of course staying still would often prove rather fatal in her field of work, it was in fact how she killed most things she was hired to kill. The leopards tail tip flickered behind her before her steely eyes slipped away from the scene of the fighters and over to the riders and the emerging undead slaves, it was wrong for these poor creatures to be forced to fight after their untimely deaths and so she decided it best to end their suffering as quickly as possible.

Powerful, muscular legs propelled her forward and down the steps of the manse, where she leapt over the fence and drew back it's mighty paw, claws extended it crashed into the side of a shambling former vilalgers skull, shattering the bone and snapping the neck. As it began to fall from the blow that had ripped a tidy portion of the side of it's head off she used the sagging corpse as a springboard to launch herself towards one of the riders.

The horse it was on whinnied in distress but had no time to rear up in fear as the leopards thick claws sunk into the riders upper half, cutting diagonally across the throat and the chest. The weight of the beast knocking the rider from the horse that reared, whinnied again and turned to flee. The rider, who was now free of reigns was now also free of his head, which floundered uselessly across the ground, rolling into a pile of grass some ways off. Lowering over the decapitated corpse she let out a fearsome snarl, her tail lashing the air before she lunged at another of the shambling undead, her jaws biting clean through a large chunk of the zombies throat, this head held on by only fragments of flesh and tissue that had not already been sliced with almost surgical precision.

The beast's maws dripped with the blood of dead men, it tasted foul but now was not the time for complaints. The white stained red big cat turned, lowered it's front half and raised it's rear, long gore filled claws slicing at the earth. She'd worry about appearances once they were all sent ot their permanent resting places.

[Arthera]

With a sickening wet sound and a lurch, the peasant undead fell to the forest floor, it's face now replaced with a gaping hole from Anya's spearhead, as it slid off, dead for the second time. It had dutifully walked right into it as the Lunar tried to catch a glance of the fighting occurring further along the path, impossible to see through the thick forest edge and the curve of the trail.

What had served to hide her own battle and person, was also a hindrance, it made trying to determine what was happening a tad bothersome. On the other hand, that had been the whole point of fighting out of sight, so that she would not be spied upon. There were flashes of golden light now and then, sudden loud impact sounds and there then there was the growl of what must be the leopard from earlier. All jumbled together and out of sight. The undead were still making a line for the place they were living in, assaulting anything and everything in their path. Anya had no idea why a group such as this was here or what possible goal there could be in claiming this forgotten piece of civilization. Other than the village, there was nothing for leagues in every direction, she doubted they were here for the calm and quiet. The leader animating this horde had a goal in mind, and right now it was served by sending wave after wave of rather weak minions at the place.

Perhaps it was to flush out both men? Perhaps they were the target? Could it be to force them to use their golden powers? The two men definitely had some...power...at their disposal, and they likely seemed to know how to use it, if for no other reason than the fact they were not screaming while being torn apart. Something tickled the back of her mind when she saw the flashes, but Anya could not quite figure out what the feeling meant. This happened from time to time, but it wasn't going away as it usually did this time, as if her subconscious was trying to tell her something her mind simply was not registering yet. What she did come to conclude is that they eerily resembled how she would sometimes burst in silvery trails when focusing, with only the difference in coloring setting them apart. All her years of life had taught her to trust her instincts and to listen to all those "myths" and "legends". After all, was she not one such living example? Was she not borne from legend and yet very real? Perhaps, when she had time to sort things out better, she would find or recall some parcel of knowledge that would explain what these men were. Perhaps there was indeed a reason to stick around after all this...

A crunching sound behind her and to the left brought her out of her reverie in time to avoid the grasping hands of one of the undead with a deft sidestep, it's momentum sending it staggering ahead a few steps past Anya as it missed it's intended target. By the time it turned to resume it's attack, Anya greeted it with a stab of her spear in the head, annoyed at being interrupted. Despite this not being the place for such actions, she did not expect any of those things to pose a serious threat, no matter their numbers, it was simply a question of when they would all be dispatched.

As the second undead fell away from her blow, Anya saw another of those riders crashing through the trees, forcing a shorter way between it and the house through the undergrowth and trunks. With a fluid head sip, she avoided the clumsy spear blow aimed at her, and returned the gesture in kind, albeit with greater accuracy. The tip sheared the dead man's chest open from belly up, scraping up along the neck to imbed through the lower jaw and into it's head with a jarring impact. The blow dismounted the rider at once, and the horse, either too stupid, compelled or both, kept going slowly towards the mansion, leaving Anya to her mounting carpet of dead undead. She wondered briefly what the two defender's reactions would be when they discovered the scene of the second battle. As she surveyed her immediate area, spear held over her shoulder as before, she considered the issue but decided that this was not really her problem, nor was she going to take any responsibility. Anya intended to be long gone by the end of this little exercise and circle back around wide and just pick up where she left off.

A shaking along the shaft of her weapon was the only indication Anya had of another mindless undead doing her job for her. She reversed her grip and forced the blade upwards, cleaving the thing nearly in half and stepped to the side to let it fall to the wet, leafy ground. Only a question of time at this rate.

[Swordsavior]

Tempest had been this way once before, he had come by this way during his attempt to pin down a noble's trade route a few years back, making some easy money for himself and the Men of the Mist, his loyal gang of mercs and outlaws. He had tried to steer clear of the village in this area, as much as stealing was in his very nature, he had no interest in stealing from a poor farmer town. The most they would get would be a few days food and some cloth, things they could easily get from hunting the animals in the nearby forest. Now he found himself near the little village again, surveying another similar noble's trade route. He had brought 9 of his best archers, after all, as long as they were out, they might as well have gone for a hunt. Many of the men in the camp had skipped a meal or two simply because it was hard to keep supply for that many men and their families. Yes, he knew that many of his men were sending back to their families some jade and other plunder from their heists, cutting some of their own wages and keeping them in poorer condition than Tempest would have liked. His men deserved better.

However, his inner guilt trip was cut off by one of the younger members, Daveth, halted dead in his tracks, his eyes widening in what looked like terror as he murmured. "What in the world?..."

Tempest gave his young archer a quick look of skepticism before looking up for himself, his own slack jaw expression mirrored Daveth's as he noticed the billowing smoke columns coming from just under a mile away.

"Huh...looks like there was a raid nearby." Tempest said, a small smirk crossing his face. "Odd, I thought the villagers around here were poor."

"Look sir, over there." Regio, another bandit, pointed at the treaded ground just a few feet away. "Footprints, a lot of 'em."

Tempest motioned for his men to follow him as he walked over to observe. Sure enough, there were a large slew of footprints littering the soft ground of the forest, a large band of people had gone by here.

"Looks like the other bandits already came and left." Tempest muttered. "Looks like we'll just have to let that slide."

"Yeah...but sir," Arcus, a third bandit said. "Look at the footprints, really look at them."

Tempest lowered his head, sinking his eye down to the ground. "I'm...not seeing anything different, Arcus."

"These people dragged their feet." He said, before becoming a bandit, Arcus had been a fairly decent tracker and hunter. "And I don't mean they were tired, I mean they just simply didn't pull their feet off the ground."

"Why exactly would they do that?" Tempest asked, pulling himself up to his feet.

"Well...I'm not sure." Arcus said. "But, if they're tired, that's easy pickings for us...if there wasn't such a massive number."

Tempest chuckles as he rose to his feet. "That would normally be true, but there is one thing you forgot, Arcus."

"And what's that, sir?"

"They don't have me." Tempest said with a laugh. "Now we follow the trail, but I want your hands on your bowstrings at all times...something tells me there is more to this."

Their trek along the footprints was incredibly tense, none of the men knew what to expect. For all they know, this was some odd cult who kidnapped these people for a mass sacrifice, intending to appeal to some long-forgotten god in return for some desire. If that was the case, they could be horribly outnumbered. A few of them got a little panicked, Daveth most of all. He was young, a fantastic archer, but young. Tempest could see by the way the boy gripped his bow tightly that he was not interested in finding was was down this path. Tempest reached out and touched the boy's shoulder, to which he jolted at slightly. However, Daveth looked into his commanders warm, friendly silver eyes, and he seemed to relax his grip. Tempest offered the boy a re-assuring smile just before a sound echoed in the forest.

"...Do you hear that, Commander?" Arcus said.

Tempest raised an ear, the sound increased in intensity. It sounded vaguely human, but in a very grotesque sense of the word. It sounded like moans, a chorus of unemotional, empty moans that chilled Tempest and his men to the very bone.

"W...what is that?" Regio asked, but before he could answer, he heard another sound, the sounds of fighitng, the sounds of swords and fists hitting flesh.

"Trouble." Tempest said. "Come, we move closer."

"S-s-sir?" Daveth stammered. "S-shouldn't we just abandon whatever it is and go back to camp? W-we're bandits...w-why do we--"

"That's an order, Daveth." Tempest stated with authority. "Whatever is out there they are fighting someone, someone who might pay a pretty penny for some protection, or at least be in our favor."

Daveth shut his mouth, he knew better than to argue with Tempest. The men picked up their pace, Tempest drawing two of his many golden hatchets as they ran. It was clear they were going to get into a battle, and Tempest wanted to make sure whoever won would be on their side, after all, in Tempest's mind one could never get enough allies.

But when they got a visual of the battle, something came to Tempest's attention far more than the undead attacking the manse. The two men defending it were different, they weren't the average warriors Tempest came across, they couldn't be, not with the kind of auras they were sporting.

"Boss, they're glowin' just like you do sometimes." Regio whispered to Tempest, the troop keeping low to the ground as to avoid detection from the battle.

"I'm...aware, Regio." Tempest whispered back, his eyes widening in disbelief. Could these be simple dragon-bloods? Or were they something else? Were they like him? He had never met anyone like him before. The mission had changed, it was no longer about stealing from people who already stole, it was about saving those glowing individuals, just for the chance to talk to them.

"Okay, here's the plan." Tempest said, turning to his men. "You stay out of sight, and climb the trees." He motioned to the treetops. "You'll have the best vantage point from up there, I will go out and meet these...creatures headfirst, when you see me attack, you reign down upon these creatures with all of your ammunition, but avoid the glowing individuals...I have to talk to them after this battle is done."

"There's also some kinda giant cat out there." One of the other bandits remarked. "Should we shoot that too?"

"Eh...no, if it's eating zombie guts, chances are it is littered with disease, we don't want to carve up a diseased animal." He scratched his head. "Besides, leaving it alive means it will probably kill more zombies."

With that, he made a motion for the men to move, and move they did, breaking off into two separate groups and himself. He glided closer to the battle, trying to get a better look at the combatants other than the strange auras they emitted. Aside from the giant cat, there was a man who looked like a warrior, and another who looked like...a middle-aged man. One seemed to be donned in golden armor, wielding a sword the size of a small child with relative ease, clearly this man knew combat inside and out. The other was far more surprising, the man carried no weapons and donned no armor, yet his fists, imbued in light with each punch, would decapitate zombies without any resistance, these men were pinnacles of their craft. Just who exactly were they?