Cybercide - IC

[Disciple Cain]

Collab between Disciple Cain and Asuras

Chapter 1 - A Spirit

An air of mustiness pervaded the dead forest at the foot of the Vrakken mountain, starkly different than the cold, fresh taste Mathras had experienced before he ascended the mountain. It was not unlike that of a deep-seated tavern located in the heart of some dank city. The wind had ceased its normal flow, leaving the air stagnant and quieted. The sun had since settled behind the horizon, and the forest was left darkened, save for a tiny glow deep within the treeline.

As Mathras approached the same diverting path lined with white flowers from earlier, the blue glow grew closer and brighter until he came across Elge Treesea's home once more. The blue-colored leaves of the tree sprouting from her home were incandescent, as were a few other strange plants sitting about her home. The entire clearing was draped in a blue aura, granting Mathras a clearer picture of the very ground he walked upon.

Mathras thought for a moment to flip out his pocket book once again and take note of the strange flora that surrounded Elge's house, perhaps to make a point to return to her later and perhaps trade with her... if possible. In fact, while he was walking to her house and thinking about it he once again absently pulled out said pocket book and began to do just that.

'I have to know where she gets plants like these... I couldn't imagine the amount of alchemical applications they might have, or better yet the practical uses they have on their own. But...' after scrawling a last few notes out in the pocket book he flipped his book closed with the pen inside and sighed inwardly, "I'm getting sidetracked..."

Just as that realization came, another one followed right after.

Elge was nowhere to be seen.

Mathras peered into the blue glow and darkness to search for her, but just like last time she wasn't in plain sight... so he went out on a limb and tried calling out for her again. He cleared his throat and spoke in a hushed whisper at first.

"Elge?" he called out, "Elge, I've completed the task. The stone was delivered... it was delivered right as the first arrived."

Then, he waited... and waited, and waited some more. After a while Mathras continued to quietly called out, but for several minutes, the girl did not appear, and it didn't seem like it would change any time soon. He shoved his hands in either sleeve and shivered... not because the wind, but because something unearthly had suddenly chilled him. The scent of mustiness grew greater in the air, and the glowing tree and plants of Elge's home had suddenly dimmed and were blown out like a candle. The clearing was left dark, darker than ever, and the sound of crunching leaves seemingly attacked Mathras' from every direction.

Mathras frantically turned every which way, stepping out in one direction but suddenly being met with another sound. He was sent floundering about trying to pinpoint who was where or what was happening, but somehow... somehow he figured there was no illusion here. His ears and eyes weren't playing tricks on him... there were truly that many present.

Within the darkness, nearly a dozen cloaked individuals approached the center of the clearing, appearing from behind Elge's home, from the trees, from behind Mathras himself. Silent and grim, their darkened faces were obscured beyond recognition, and their intentions were ominous, but indescernible.

"Mathras Nomarutesh," one of the figures called out.

Mathras winced, almost cringed when he heard his real name called, letting out a staggered breath as he turned to where the voice came from.

"How do you know that name?" Mathras demanded in a harsh whisper, but his voice almost wavering made it hard to seem like he could put any authority behind his words.

The one who had spoken lifted its hands up to pull back their hood. As the veil of shadows rose up beyond the figures face, a set of unnaturally white teeth grinned sinisterly at Mathras. In the darkness, only her white maw and feminine voice were discernible... and unfortunately, all too familiar.

"Aw, I had hoped you would have remembered me," the woman sarcastically whined. Her almost glowing grin was dominated by one feature alone; two dagger-like canines which meant one thing.

Mathras' fear gave way to an angry and bitter scowl as he spat out the name, "Ciardha," He immediately turned his eyes to the white glint of her teeth, "And you brought the family with you."

"Or rather, they begged to come with me. I wanted to find you myself. But how could I bar them from participating in the revenge they desired? They only wish to see your vile act brought to justice. For me," Ciardha hissed.

"And what of your own vile acts, Ciardha?" Mathras accused, "I sought to protect my friend-"

"And failed!" cackled another member of the circle. Mathras recoiled from the sudden stab in the heart those words were to him... the gathering giggled in response until Ciardha raised a hand from under her black cloak to silence them. Still smiling as wide as ever, the high vampire cocked a head as if confused by his accusations.

"I know not of what you mean, Athra," Ciardha called him by one of his aliases, obviously prodding him with the fact that they knew what he was going by and doing lately, "We were doing her a favor-"

"-by turning her into a ghoul?!" Mathras shouted, "You tried to take her humanity!"

"She would have been well to serve me, boy," Ciardha spat, her smile twisting into a vicious frown. Ciardha paced a few steps and picked up one of the flowers upon the ground, examining it with her red eyes. In the dark, she could see all as a vampire, unlike Mathras. To her, it was a red flower, to Mathras it was a thin shadow in the hands of his worst enemy. She flicked the plant away carelessly and turned back to Mathras.

"And she will serve me soon enough, thanks to the help of this phantom."

Phantom. A phantom? Mathras cursed himself again for missing crucial details... though he imagined his luck would run out eventually. Traveling the world a step ahead of the clan of vampires would only work for so long until they finally cornered and caught him. Mathras nervously shifted his eyes to his robes for a brief moment, then back up to Ciardha.

"Recruiting spirits to do your dirty work now," Mathras spoke with contempt, "As if it weren't bad enough that you take youth from the streets... What phantom?"

He was curious... curious as to where he went wrong; where his first mistake was that led him to what he believed could soon be his public execution and his grave.

"This phantom," replied a soft voice. The strange tree sprouting from Elg'es house lit up like a stage light opening up for the next scene in a play. Sitting upon the home's deck, Elge Treesea held a flower in her hand and stared at it intently. The circle of vampires was then fully visible, and Mathras counted a total of fourteen individuals clad in the same black cloak as each other. Ciardha's face had become apparent, and the wound she had recieved from Mathras was still there, a jagged scar running along her cheek.

Mathras' scowl disappeared and his breathing steadied as the lights came up. A blank stare was all he could manage after his gazed turned to Elge. His mouth hung open for a moment while he stood dumbstruck at his betrayal before he choked out, "You... why did... why did I trust you?" Mathras was more confused at how he could've been so stupid and careless after all these years, rather than his actual betrayal.

Piecing it together wasn't that hard from there. It was entirely obvious how they found him out. Ciardha knew what he was looking for, so she knew where he would go to find it... but she got there first and set him up to fail from the start. Mathras' plans-- no, his world was beginning to crumble after all this work... all the effort, the pain, the blood and bloodshed, the horrors and hardships; it summed up to nothing by the undoing of his plans by simply being one step ahead.

'Perhaps her assumptions were right,' Mathras mused, 'Am I no different from all the other fools that have failed?'

"Because I offered you exactly what you needed," Elge responded solemnly. As much as she appeared to be some sinister cog in the vampire wheel attempting to roll over Mathras, she herself appeared quite downtrodden and almost... guilty. She made no eye contact with Mathras, instead turning away to stare at the grassy ground below her dangling legs.

"I'll be honest. Your plans escaped us for awhile," Ciardha stated, pulling out a small flower from inside her coat -the Sabenira. "But when we found you headed for this mountain and did a little digging, we knew what you were after." She held up the flower before Mathras and grinned. "An interesting ingredient, I must say."

Mathras pulled his hands out of his sleeves, as if to pointlessly reach for it even though it was far out of his grasp... and then...

Ciardha crushed it.

She violently tightened her fingers around the rare flower, digging her nails into the petals, sliding it across her palm as forcefully as possible. What remained was a small husk of the former flower, now mangled and chewed up by the vampire. She dropped it the ground and stepped on it without a glance. Mathras hands shook as he looked on in horror at the careless and malicious destruction of the only thing that separated him from saving his friend.

Ciardha's smile became a glare, and she growled, "You have no right to change what is ours."

Mathras swallowed, and then a sudden cold feeling came over him. It chilled him once again, but he didn't shiver. He was... numb. His eyes lazily shifted from the desecrated flower to Ciardha.

'I didn't cover my tracks... she followed me here and knew exactly what I was after. How...?'

His gaze slowly moved to Elge a moment later, 'Elge... Elge has nothing to gain from dealing with vampires.'

To everyone else, Mathras appeared dead silent for a long while before he took in a deep breath and exhaled again, the cold stare turning to a hardened and serious expression.

"You waited to crush my hope in front of me... you just couldn't help yourself," Mathras said to her, chuckling at the cruel irony of it all.

"And it feels so good," Ciardha sensually whispered. In the silence that the forest suffered, it was as clear as the sound of his only hope being crushed before his eyes. "But I must say it is not satisfying enough." The circle of vampires began to step in tandem, approaching Mathras with a cruel, silent intent and brandished rather flamboyant knives. Ciardha stood by, merely watching, and Elge averted her eyes from the enclosing circle.

A smirk suddenly appeared across Mathras' face as he looked to Ciardha.

"You know, Ciardha, you may actually have gotten away with it too..." Mathras said to her, now with a blatantly smug look. He let his arms drop to his sides freely and shrugged at her, "But somehow I think I'm not the only one that missed something."

A wave of Ciardha's hand halted the vampires' progress toward Mathras, though they still held their daggers out at arms length.

"Oh?" Ciardha replied sarcastically, as if she doubted he had any real trick to him. Nevertheless, his ability to evade them thus far still made her wary. No need to be careless. She had all the power here, anyways.

Mathras raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise, and suddenly he had the upper hand. He might still know something that she didn't...

"You mean you haven't heard the legend of those mountains? That's... surprising, Ciardha. You did your digging and you missed that?" He made it look like he was bluffing, like he most commonly was in front of her, lording it over her to try to intimidate her. Half of his survival against the vampires was deception-- making them think he was more powerful than he actually was-- and he thought he could pull it off again.

Ciardha looked to Elge and glared. The forest spirit made no motion to look back, far too put off by her sinister eyes.

"Phantom," she barked, "What is this he speaks of?" Ciardha forcefully asked. The spirit looked towards Mathras, somehow conveying a sense of camaraderie with just a gaze, as if the two were in just as bad a predicament as the other. Mathras returned the spirit's gaze with a faint smile to reassure her and a subtle nod to cue her.

"He speaks of the Death Gods that lie on the mountain," she started off, already deviating from the lie Mathras intended to tell. She did not know of the mountains Mathras spoke of, but she did know what he had just come back from. "They are..." she paused to collect her thoughts, trying her best to lie alongside the human, "Death Gods that specifically target monsters."

"Monsters like you, Ciardha," Mathras chimed in.

Elge's voice picked up in speed and confidence as she formulated the rest of the tale. "Their tombs are awakened at the scent of vampires in their lands. Vicious Death Gods with the bloodthirst of a dragon."

Ciardha looked at Elge with an expression of spiteful confusion, clearly not convinced.

"What in the world are you ta-" Ciardha was cut off by a noise even the calm and collected vampires could not stand against. A pair of monstrous roars boomed throughout the forest, nearly shaking the very leaves in the blue tree. It lasted for several seconds before dying out, leaving the forest silent once more. The vampires, including Ciardha, stood stone still, their pale faces now positively white with paranoia. Ciardha looked to both Elge and Mathras, checking to see if they too were stricken by the fear-inducing cry... but much to her dismay, Mathras was grinning brightly as if he'd just heard Ciardha's death knell.

Mathras spoke calmly and cooly.



"And they're here right now. For you, Ciardha."

[Inara]

Collab with Asuras - Chapter 1: The Sacrifice

The invisible Zaia sprinted from the room, fleeing for her freedom. She had not trained for over two decades to be imprisoned and kept out of the fight. This was her life's work, and a bunch of xenophobic idiots weren't going to stop her with their petty fears. Sure, she had compassion for these people, but even after she had shown herself not to be a threat, they still attacked her. I came to help them, she thought, still trying to find an exit to the barracks before the compound was put on lockdown. I wanted to help heal the soldiers in battle. I wanted to find the solution to what was plaguing the girl. And this is what I wind up with? Still invisible, the mage located an exit.

The very same door she had entered through was the closest exit she could find, and though the guards still stood outside, they merely looked in confusion at the open door devoid of anyone to fill it. The sky had already turned dark, and the oil lamps lining the various walls and buildings outside cast an orange glow upon the streets. And yet, it seemed the city was more active than ever. That is... more active with security. Countless guards patrolled the streets, keeping watch out for any sign of suspicious activity. Though Zaia was indeed invisible, navigating tight corridors with moving bodies wouldn't be a walk in the park.

Zaia left the barracks, unsurprised to see all the security about. But she had an inkling that their presence had more to do with the Death Gods than her. And of course, if her luck were not already bad enough, it started to rain, just a drizzle at first, and then a steady downfall. In any case, it was unlikely that she would be able to escape the city for a few hours, with tensions so high and not even an attack to distract them. Worse, if the rain continued too long, the water around her would hit her very solid body, and there was only so much she could do to mask all of those particles. Making her way as fast as possible towards the outskirts of the city, she found a cozy-looking, two-story building with a sign above it, "The Mockingbird Inn." The stone building housed a small wooden porch, and the roof extended to cover it. It was a perfect place for her to rest for a few hours and wait out the thickening storm. There would not even be a need to go through the narrow doorway and drip inside the crowded tavern.

Suddenly, Zaia had been thrown to the ground, not by a guard, but by an unknowing man rushing for the very inn she stood in front of. He bumped into her in his brisk jog, and inadvertently knocked her off balance. Confused and slightly terrified as to what he had just stricken, the man yelped slightly and looked to the area where some invisible object struck the puddle in the street beside him. It took him a moment, but he knew what he was dealing with.

"H-hello? the man called out to Zaia.

There was no point to wasting her energy now. Besides, there were few guards out this far. How could she have been so careless?! Rolik would not have been very proud of any of situation within which she had gotten herself. Blinking, she removed her magical cloak. "Hello?" she replied, hoping against hope that this man did not know she was currently a fugitive. Of course, wandering around invisible was probably going to look quite suspicious anyway.

"Oh!" he jumped, startled by her sudden removal of the spell. He knew someone was invisible, but, being usused to magic in the least bit, it was still a miraculous thing. He gripped his chest as if his heart were aching and exhaled. "Scared me there lass. I thought ye' was a ghost or somethin'."

Standing up, Zaia smiled politely at the man, greeting him as though nothing was wrong. "Not a ghost yet, I think. Though with the Death Gods showing up any day now, that could always change," she replied in her joking sarcasm. But she needed to get out of the open before any guards saw her. "Well, sorry about that. I should get going now," she said quickly, turning to leave.

He rubbed his bald head and laughed in tandem, genuinely intrigued by this strange girl. He'd never seen someone like her. Was she some sort of elf? Maybe a really tall dwarf? No matter, the man gestured towards the door to the inn, and offerred her some food and shelter.

"It's not much to pay, and while I'd love to have someone like you stay, times are rough and I can't be handing out free stays to just anyone!" he chuckled.

Was it a trick? Had someone really just offered her a temporary escape from this situation? Had fate actually chosen to smile upon her in this malicious city? Surely it was a some sort of trap. But well, she had gotten herself out of worse scrapes, and she was tired both from a long day's walk, and even moreso from using her magic much more than was normal. The middle-aged mage did not have much money on her, mainly relying on her healing abilities for food or a place to sleep in her travels. But there had been a few gracious souls who had given her coins in appreciation for her assistance.

"I would love to stay. Thank you very much for your hospitality," she replied calmly, hoping that she would not find a bunch of city guards having a drink in the tavern.

"Certainly. How could I let a lady stay out in this rain during so grim a time?" the man opened up the door for Zaia, gesturing for her to go on through. Inside, the room was cozy, albeit slightly dark. A few tables were placed in the corner of the room, but were empty of occupants. To the side, a tall service desk with a single candle light illuminated the face of another fairly older man sitting behind. Two sets of stairs -one going up, the other earthbound- sat beside each other to the side of the room.

"If you'd like some food, we got a tavern down below. Otherwise, room seven is open on the next floor up if you'd like to rest."

Zaia thanked the man, going to the service desk and handing the man behind a few coins. Recieving the key, she walked upstairs to think. The truth was, she would have loved a hot meal, having spent the past few days eating hard biscuits and what she could hunt and cook, but it seemed entirely foolhardy to remain in public given her current situation. The Vor'Teksi woman was no idiot, she could see that something was up with this city and it's guards beyond mere xenophobia. And while she may have normally been curious and wanting to help, it was difficult to care about the problems of those who had treated her with such distrust when she had to find allies before the imminent arrival of the Death Gods. Racia, Sanse, all of them clearly did not want her here. Zaia knew from experience that she could not help those who did not want her assistance when it was offered. She would prepare to leave and head to a smaller town before dawn. Frustrated that a journey for which she had spent most of her life preparing was beginning so poorly, the exhausted woman collapsed onto the bed, ready to sleep and regain her energy.

[Asuras]

Zaia was relieved to exit the city just before dawn, reasonably refreshed after allowing herself a nap. She had silently left her key on the front desk, making her way to a spot on the wall as far away from the heavily guarded gates as possible. From there, she simply blinked herself invisible, conveniently found a rope outside a shop, and climbed over the wall to escape. Not as easy as entering, but at least I'm done with that place and their problems forever, she thought. Then she realized just how bitter her mind sounded. That's not fair. They were trying to help that poor girl Racia, and I did trespass into the city. I should have anticipated the extent of their paranoia with the Death Gods approaching.

When Zaia was a kilometer from the city, she removed her invisibility and continued walking along the rough road, hoping that it would lead somewhere useful. The Outer District of Linnestrad was considerably less grandiose in comparison to the buildings with the walls, and it almost seemed like an entirely new world when Zaia had once more retreated from the so called 'protection' the capital had to offer. The people were more grimy and clad in evidently poorer garbs. The Vor'Teksi woman could not help but find herself astonished at the stark contrast between the Outer and Inner districts. The Outer District stretched onwards for miles, and thanks to the unkempt state of the cobble pathway Zaia traveled across, it was neither quick nor painless.

Her mind turned to thoughts of her old mentor, Rolik, wondering what he would have thought of the whole mess. She could hear his laughter now, even as he would have scolded her for getting herself into the problem in the first place. But as it would seem, her troubles had yet to leave her side. Before her, an enigmatic hooded figure approached from further down the wide road, followed by the countless eyes of the district's citizenry. Out of place, colorful, and new, the individual attracted a plethora of attention. Entire droves of people followed behind it, some even throwing shouts and insults at the mysterious visitor. Their curiosity and paranoia knew no bounds, and any sort of anomaly was a threat during these times.

"You've got to be joking," Zaia muttered, as if she spoke to someone who was actually controlling her fate. The last thing she wanted was to get involved. The Death Gods were surely arriving any day, any hour, now. But she had learned a little about being the victim of paranoia recently, and it seemed Fate knew that she could not just ignore someone in a similar plight. Not that she really believed that some higher power was controlling things, that was just childish superstition.

As if agitated, the figure stopped in place with a firm stomp upon the stone walkway. So too did the persistent crowd, though their voices audibly rose in response. From under the red cloak, a slender arm reached out and grabbed the cloth, tearing it aside in one fell swoop to reveal a most peculiar woman. Bearing an eyepatch and a suit of zephyr-colored armor, the blond woman rolled her shoulders and fiddled with the toothpick in between her teeth.

In her hands, what looked like an elongated chunk of metal rested upon the ground. With a smile conveying absolute trouble, she hoisted the strange weapon up unto her shoulder and turned to the crowd that would wish in mere moments they had never pestered her.

Zaia's eyes narrowed at the scene unfolding before her. She was unsure what this woman had in mind, but it looked like it would almost certainly involve unnecessary bloodshed. Surely there was some peaceful way to resolve the brewing issue. Blinking out of sight, she strode over to the woman and whispered in her ear, still invisible of course, "What's going on here?" Knowing how crazy a bodiless voice would sound, the invisible woman touched the stranger's shoulder, hoping to indicate that there was in fact a physical body present.

Uncaring. Fearless. Bold. The manner in which the armed woman hastily gripped Zaia's invisible hand was anything but hesitant, as if the Vor'Teksi hand were a mere wayward slip of paper that blew into her. The woman's grip was brutal and merciless, nearly crushing Zaia's very bones. The unseen female winced at the resultant pain, but did not bother to waste energy on stopping its signals.

"Hm?" she mumbled, glancing with her only good eye at the invisible object she held with a vicegrip, "An invisible one? How new." The woman threw Zaia's hand aside and quickly jabbed with her elbow into what she presumed to be the position of her belly. The rather unanticipated blow connected, causing Zaia to double over, narrowly catching herself from losing her balance. Visibly uncaring, the woman ignored Zaia and returned her attention back to the stunned crowd that had gathered. Why was she thrusting at thin air?

"You've done me a great favor, gathering in a perfect... Well... Gathering," she called out with an air of superiority, as if she were speaking to a wall of chained prisoners. Like a thousand screeching birds, the air around her cried out and tore at the ears of those who stood about the road, encouraging the invisible Zaia to instinctively retreat several meters. The armor-clad woman's sword --or what appeared to be a sword-- glowed with a frightening heat, the once grey metal turning nye-molten orange.

It was not unlike the sight of a trans-continental train colliding with another. Fragments of building and the cobblestone below was ripped from its position and thrown forward behind a cloud of flame. As the woman swung her weapon, the very air ignited and surged forth to envelop the civilians in a hellish blaze. The homes that remained lit aflame and the people that could still stand took several steps before collapsing into a heap of charred biomass.

The fire signaled an alarm in the distance from beyond the Linnestrad wall, and countless screams ran from the apocalyptic scene. In an atmosphere of unbearably intense heat, the woman stood with her back turned to the onlooking Zaia.

Zaia was appalled, to say the least, at the scene before her, having only read tales of such immense powers. From her unseen stance, she drew her bow and an arrow, enchanted to pierce armor. I don't want to kill her. I should find out what in all the lands is happening first. Come to think of it, in all her years of training, she had never killed another sentient being, but that was a problem for another minute. Simultaneously, the mage shot the arrow directly at the zephyr-clad woman's thigh, hoping to incapacitate her, and uncloaked her own body from the invisibility spell. She was dying to question the woman, but tending to the people involved in the blaze had to come first.

The sound of splashing followed the arrow, though it was thick and reminiscent of a dense mud impacting a surface. The arrowhead Zaia had loosened expanded outwards like a liquid, turning to a tiny puddle of molten lava. The arrow failed to reach the woman's body before it splattered on the ground.

Acting mostly on instinct, for her logical mind was still in shock and slow to make connections in the sudden turn of events, Zaia sprinted back towards the crowd, with the intent of pulling as many as possible out of the blaze. Any damage that occurred to her own body would be simple enough to heal. As she began to step through the blaze, pulling bodies out of the pile, it finally occurred to her that there were not many with such power, save one type of adversary. In the back of her thoughts, she finally realized that she was most likely experiencing her first encounter with a Death God.

But the vast majority of her mind was focused on pulling any of the citizens she could out of the pile of bodies, starting with the top of the pile, presumably the least injured. Removing her cloak to use as a fire blanket, she began to pull any living being she could reach. The entire scene was far too confused for any sort of triage beyond what was the fastest way to untangle them. Frustrated that her strength could only lift one individual at a time, she sprinted back and forth, trying to separate and put out the fire on each victim, laying each burned and injured body on the grass to heal as soon as possible. Certainly, she was wary of the strange woman who had brought all of this about, lest she do anything else, but there was little time to attack with all of this chaos. Ignoring the burns to her own face, hair, and body, Zaiabel began to lay her hands on the nearest two of the victims, hoping against hope that she could heal them enough that they could help her rescue more people from the hellish blaze.

"Aw, don't revive them. I won't get points otherwise," the woman whined at Zaia as she kicked a loosened stone beside her foot. Raising her sword once more, the deafening wail emanated from it and glowed in readiness to strike the defenseless Zaia...

======================

Another day had passed since Chog, Reliel, and Rahéü set up camp nearby the burning village, and the group never once encountered any sign of the culprit. Chog's suspicions only grew in intensity with the lack of evidence. It only made more and more sense that the murderers were a band of Kwandans who retreated back into the jungle after assailing the town. Reliel managed to bar any sort of physical contact between the two, however. They had been at each other's throats in a most passive of manners since they had first met.

The young girl had since awoken, though presumably because of the trauma she experienced, she did not speak throughout the journey. Reliel alone was capable of even interacting vaguely with her, something she attested to being a woman similar in size. Chog and Rahéü's size obviously frightened her, one of the few features she could distinguish in the men despite her weakened eyesight; though such was much to Rahéü's displeasure, as he had tried for many nights to comfort the girl. He could only suppose he were doomed to fail as he was at least three times her size and more rugged than any Human male she would have ever previously laid eyes upon.

Several towns had passed them by, each one unique in character to the last. Such diversity did fascinate Rahéü as he only ever called one loose village his home within the Emerald Wall, and diversity there was far between. None of these towns made any mention of a Death God, or a fire for that matter. They had however learned of the inferno which engulfed the border town, and many were quite fearful of the event, retreating indoors in the presence of Chog and Rahéü. The capital of Brevnir, Linnestrad, was but a few miles away, and they were quick to reach the collection of villages surrounding its walls.

"We need to keep Rahéü further out," Chog pointed out. Already townsfolk were staring at the Kwandan, some even boldly standing outside their homes to try and size up the much larger barbarian, though such antics only served to amuse the Ghoststalker. In the distance, a tall, stone wall stood valiantly into the dim blue sky, lined with countless red flags along the upper rim.

"W-we'll have to find s-some sort of inn for him. A liberal one," Reliel mentioned, walking alongside Chog. She gripped the girl's hand in her own, leading her along the streets. Her eyesight had degraded to the point where she had walked straight into a wall on several occasions, and so she needed a guide. Chog mumbled something in agreement, itching to get back to the barracks. Being around the Ghoststalker for so long was grinding upon his nerves for too long, and he was afraid he may lose his hard-trained peace in annoyance. Though this may have been partly due to Rahéü's apparent need to taunt the giant metal oaf; he had given Chog several playfully mocking looks since they had set out on their journey, knowing full well that it would infuriate the knight to no end to have those glowing set of eyes look upon him with, what seemed like, humor.
Rahéü had already risen above a sense of real contempt, and instead had moved to toying with Chog's temper with a rebellious and almost cheeky grin. It was not hard to work out the threshold for his anger. He could always tell when Chog was about to break by a characteristically low sigh of exasperation at Rahéü's mischeivous antics, that, to the Ghoststalker, sounded unmistakably like the sound of passing wind. But Rahéü did live out his life deep in the most dangerous jungle in the known world.

"And it'll need to be out of the way. We cannot let Vindraemel know that we brought back a Kwandan instead of a treaty," Chog grimaced, "At least until we can explain the situation-" The Giant was cut off, or rather drowned out by the distant rumble of a powerful explosion. Reliel and Chog paused, and the girl, incapable of seeing the plume of flame rising behind a cluster of buildings, clung to the knightess; Rahéü sneered at the noise, as his advanced senses allowed him to hear the explosion with far more clarity than his retinue - the sound alone pummeled his ears, causing some pain. Chog instantly rose both of his weapons to his front, practically battering the air with his immense shield.

"No," was all the Giant could muster saying, and he broke into a rampaging run for the explosion site. Reliel followed suit, though was significantly stalled with a girl clinging to her robes. She would need to find her shelter before joining Chog and Rahéü in intercepting whoever it was that had attacked.

======================

It was just like before, a smoldering scene of absolute carnage and death. The dead laid strewn about as husks, or as dust. Chog and Rahéü stood before the ravaged street, proverbially shoulder to shoulder, in an awe inspired stupour at what unholy force had been unleashed on the city. But one single, dark skinned Vor'Teksi woman remained amidst the wreckage, and even then, she too appeared doomed to obliteration before the one-eyed woman. Chog would not have it. The Giant lunged into action, unleashing a earth-rumbling cry of anger as he rose his halberd to strike, his shield brought before his already heavily armored body in anticipation of a potential attack.

At the sound of the Goddess' sword, Zaia looked up behind her, for a split second, frozen in terror, afraid that her first battle would be her last. This was not at all how the naive mage had wanted to meet the Death Gods. Not that she could blame anyone but herself. She had quite literally sprinted herself into this mess, all because of her bias and irritation. The one lesson from Rolik that she had never mastered had come back to murder her.

For the True Gods' sake, Zaiabel! You are now thirty-four years of age, have been studying with me for two decades, and are a brilliant student. But you still have not fully mastered the first and most important lesson for mage and mortal alike. You must balance your emotions with your ability to reason. Temper your rage with logic. Weigh your heart in your decisions, but allow your brain to make them. Emotions are the fuel which powers your magic, but you must direct it with your analytical and reasoning mind. You can learn all the spells in the world, read every book that has been written, but if you cannot do this one task, it will be your downfall.

Even in the face of a weapon larger than her entire self, the woman remained firm, turning to greet Chog's massive polearm with her own weapon. Were it not for her ability, her strength would have been incomparably small compared to Chog, and she would have been immediately crushed under the halberd; but such was not the case. Another air-shattering explosion rocketed from her weapon, blowing back the halberd as if it had stricken the hardest surface in the world. Chog was practically disarmed were it not for his grip. Behind the shield, he was met only with a sudden wave of heat which nevertheless burned the metal with enough power to melt the golden rim surrounding it.

The Giant would not back down, even as he carried a shield dripping in molten steel, and he once more swung the halberd down upon the woman. Ill-prepared, she resorted instead to dodging the fatal blow, rolling to the side as the golden blade sunk into the already crumbled street.

"Die you witch!" Chog screamed.

Rahéü, too, pounced forward, screaming bloody murder in his own language, running on all fours like some sort of savage animal straight at the Vor'Teski woman who was apparently aiding the charred humans in some sort of hopless attempt to save their shattered bodies from the clutches of doom. He would have slammed into the medic were it not for his almost inhuman agility. He retreated back to a two-legged run only feet away from the unknowing Vor'Teski and grabbed her by the arm, slinging her onto his huge back and out of danger of the one-eyed woman who had targeted her only moments before.
He broke back into a sprint and carried the stunned Vor'teski behind some of the charred buildings and out of the line of sight of the mysterious assailant.

Zaia looked up at her rather gigantic savior, embarrassed that she had needed saving at all as he laid her down to her feet behind a charred pile of bricks. He appeared to be of a race she had never encountered. In her studies she had once read something about a people who looked like him, the... Kwandi was it? But very little was known about them, and she was not even sure she remembered correctly.

"Thank you," the grateful medic said in English, rising from the ground as though she were not the least bit injured, though deep fresh burns and cuts were visible all over her face, and and body."My gratitude," she said solemnly, making a strange Vor'Teksi gesture that symbolized great respect.

Rahéü looked at her with unknowing eyes. They were soulful but he did not understand. As with all the others, her words were little more than meaningless sounds and her gesture no more than a shape of the hands. He considered it for a moment, before he began talking to her, almost irrelevant of her thanks.

"Ÿéïéæ kéæüł' érć kæ ö kiæéł kœhłłá", as he nodded to her in silent understanding. After a pause that lasted only a moment, she looked back at the strange man, figuring quickly that he probably did not speak English, and Vor'Teksi was out of the question. Nodding back to him, she did not even bother speaking, instead simply sprinting back to the scene of the battle. Now that that Ver'dammtes monstrum appeared to be occupied, maybe some of the victims could still be saved. Although her desire to return to the battle was beyond the Kwanda warrior's understanding, he made no effort to stop her.

Within a minute, Zaia found herself back onto the scene of her near-death, back to the one thing, it seemed, that she could do to fight these filthy monsters, saving the victims that they seemed so eager to kill. She began healing anyone whom she saw. There was no time to organize the process, with so many bodies and only one healer. She resorted to quickly listening for the victim's heartbeats. If there was any sign of life left in them, she could bring them back. Pulling the victims from the pile one by one, she looked for signs of life in each body. If she found them, she healed enough of the internal wounds to get them out of critical condition, leaving the bodies side by side on the grass. There appeared to be no one in a condition to assist. It had been a complete, and nearly instantaneous, massacre.

A chorus of hooves clattering upon stone approached from the direction of Linnestrad's wall, signalling the approach of countless guards to the scene as Rahéü looked on from his vantage point in dismay. What possible being could be such an advocate of destruction? What mage would wish to cause such mindless destruction and incite such atrocity among mere civillians? Chog swnged with merciless rage once more before the woman, jetted backwards, somehow propelled by a fire spell in her greaves, and landed atop what remained of a smoldering home. An entorauge of soldiers clad in red and gold armor stopped before Rahéü, looking down upon him with suprise, but quickly directed their attention to the fire mage standing at Chog's shoulder height.

Rahéü had already begun to move through the rubble of the outskirts, silently and remaining out of sight, as was learned during the hunt. He took care to look closely at his target, singling out each of her vulnerabilities - most notably of which was her right eye, or lack thereof. He moved with some pace, however, bounding over wrecks and piles with Kwandan agility and purpose. He moved his way to her right, attempting to avoid her peripheral and allow him to get an edge on this mysterious attacker.

"If only this big boy didn't arrive. I could've been done with y'all in a sec'," the woman spat. A man clad in golden, winged armor yelled to his cavalrymen, and several brought their bows up to fire. Just as with Zaia's arrows, these too were passively melted down into a slag before the woman's feet, leaving her unharmed. The woman stared with her one good eye with a fiery contempt reflective of the flames dancing about her.

"Ceafore..." the golden-armored knight spitefully greeted the woman. A single grin with her toothpick still clenched between her teeth was the only response he recieved.

"Good to see you again. I see you've employed a Giant in the time I've been gone, and a Kwandan. That's also new," Ceafore responded, twirling the toothpick in her mouth around playfully. "Have you been sleeping nice? I'm sure with me gone, you've been having plentiful dreams, not that they're real or anything." The head knight pulled out his sword and directed its tip for her throat.

"We know you're here this time, you can't hide," he shouted valiantly.

"Watch me," Ceafore hissed. Turning on her toes, she was suddenly blindsided by the massive Kwandan warrior who had found his way through her gaze and into her blindspot. He slammed his elbow into her head, subsequently shifting the eyepatch she wore to the side, as well as shattering the metal covering before wrapping his arms around her unsuspecting body and throwing her from the roof in a most violent of manners. They both tumbled a short distance to the charred ground below, which would not have been paticularly damaging even to a mundane Human if it were not for the Ghoststalker actually landing atop her with a devastating punch to the head. Ceafore reacted quickly, swinging her arm over her face to intercept Rahéü's larger fist. Her own hand pressed into her already bleeding face, but cushioned the blow to a far less powerful strike. With her free arm, she reached out and gripped the Kwandan's thick neck with clawed armor, digging into his skin.

As the battle was going on, and everyone else was concerned with fighting the Fire Goddess, Zaia finished healing the most critical wounds in the crowd of exactly 29 people. Twelve were beyond repair, and had likely died instantly when they crashed to the ground. The medic had the other seventeen in a row upon the grass, just slightly off the scene of the action of in the battle. The young woman knelt down for a moment, her physical and mental strength feeling depleted. Her body was practically covered in second degree burns, and her eyes and throat burned from inhaling the smoke. Her clothing, not built to withstand fire, was scorched and tattered.

She allowed herself about three minutes to rest, slowly healing the most painful of her own injuries, channeling her hatred, anger, fear, embarassment, into regaining some of her strength back to continue her magic. Arising again, she began to work through the less critical wounds on her patients, accepting gratitude as it came, and sending the townspeople home in twos and threes with strong recommendations for a good night's sleep in a warm bed. Only after everyone had been able to walk off did she finally lie down in the grass, right near where the Kwandan had brought her, and began to let her magic heal her own wounds.

Rahéü grimaced from the pain of this mage clawing into his neck, and he reached for her hand with his own as if to crush it under his vice; he was fairly confident that he could do so, though upon taking hold of her, that feat proved to be much more difficult than he had first anticipated. The woman was strong - [i]terribly[/s] strong, and the Ghoststalker struggled for a moment against her, locked in some sort of equilibrium of strength as they both pushed for their lives.
Rahéü was on top, and so found himself with another card to play against her. He half stood, pushing himself up but still restraining the mage to the ground with a knee to her own throat -- he pulled away from her grip, leaving five bloody claw marks dragged across his neck. They would begin to bleed profusely in time, though he neither cared nor did he make any action as to stop the flow of blood.

He took his free foot and slammed it once towards her temple, missing as she swiveled it sideways even under the pressure of a restraining knee, and once again into her hand as to stop her from immediately bringing any weapons to bear against him. Her sword was still gripped into her hand, though had been immobilized thanks to the heavy foot placed upon it. Instead, Ceafore reached with her blood-tinged hand to her eyepatch which had since become quite misshappen over her face, and lifted it away.

Rahéü was met with a nightmare. Ceafore's once-obscured right eye was painted with an archaic design in blues, greens, and reds, encircling her maddeningly red pupil. A sense of utmost dread and evil traveled from it into Rahéü's own eyes, drowning him with the noise of a thousand entities. They spoke in a worldess language, comprehendable even to the foreign Kwandan prince. It was blinding, deafening, insane, like conversing with the darkest of mages gathered from throughout the world in a single second, persisting for hours within minutes, and feeling as exhaustive as days in the dark for years on end.

Rahéü howled under the pandemonium forced upon his mind. He brandished his teeth as he did so, snarling at her with incomprehensible rage, as though his mind was the subject of some foul claws, attempting to slash his mind apart.
He knew he could sustain the pressure for little more than a few mere moments, and stepped forward, still laying pressure on her arm as to not allow her to follow up with a strike, away from her immediate gaze. He gripped his head with both of his blood smothered hands as he bounded ahead as to escape the insanity.
There was an obvious window of chance at this very moment that would have to have been taken by someone - but not him.

Rahéü looked forward with maddened eyes for the Giant metal oaf who was fighting this mage only moments before.

"Chog!" He screamed, only knowing his name through Reliel's excessive use. 'Chog!' ëæ!"

The giant complied, for once capable of understanding the Kwandan's intentions. With a collosal heave worthy of the True God of Strength himself, Chog lifted the halberd and brought it careening down for the Death Goddess, aiming to cleave her torso in two. A cloud of dust exploded outwards as it struck the earth, obscuring the blade and Ceafore herself.

A second, small explosion swept away the dust, revealing the still-living Death God leaping skyward. No more chances would be taken here, evident by Ceafore's quick escape for the West. Disappearing behind the many buildings still standing in the Outer District, most of the cavalry charged for her while three remained put. Chog let go of his halberd, its blade still buried in the ground, and stepped back in disappointment.

Rahéü fell to his knees and clutched his throat, it had begun to bleed heavily. Although it was not necessarily a fatal wound, it would put him out of action for many weeks unless it was attended to by a person of medical skill. He certainly could do little about it. He was not surrounded by the familiar herbs and oils of the jungle.

The medic's eyes scanned the combatants, checking if any of them were also injured. Naturally, she noticed Rahéü; after all, he was quite difficult to miss. Within seconds, she had crossed the distance between them and stood in front of the Kwandan, who even on his knees was still an imposing figure. She knelt down in front of him, and her hands softly touched his throat, first staunching the flow of blood, and then repairing the damaged tissue, although the Kwandan sneered at the pain of her touch for a moment, he grew to be appreciative of the relief she granted. Within moments, the pain was gone, and blood was no longer flowing from his wounds. He looked up to her with those hellish eyes and nodded.

The Kwandans had no word for 'Thank You'. But as she offered him a hand to help him stand up, Zaiabel stared into his eyes and understood from his expression that appreciation was not void. He just knew not how to express it.

Zaia had been reminded of a crucial lesson today, and as such, had left one burn on her forearm to heal and scar over normally. Now it would have been time to rejoin the battle and fight the mist'voh who had wreaked havoc on an innocent crowd, and had nearly taken the medic's own life, but as she looked around, it was obvious that the fighting was over.

"Ma'da! Ver'dammte dertak!," Zaia muttered.

The man in golden armor approached the combatants on his horse, sliding off noisily as he sheathed his sword and approached Chog. The Giant, though obviously feeling defeated, instantly dropped his grim appearance and bent on one knee.

"Sir Vindraemel, I apolog-"

"No need. We were not prepared to fight out here. Where is Reliel?" the knight asked, looking about, "And who is this Kwandand? And the Vor'Teksi?"

"Reliel is caring for a young girl we rescued, I presume. The Kwandand is the Ghostlord's son, and we do not know who the healer is. We encountered her here," Chog replied, head still bowed.

"So the diplomacy failed?"

"The Ghostlord was... uncompromising." Chog dejectedly said. Vindraemel sighed and looked towards Rahéü and Zaia, disappointed at his apparently necessary presence. With a Death God already in their very streets, and no pact formed with the Kwandans, he dreaded the prophecy even moreso.

"Gather your friends and come to the barracks," Vindraemel commanded, lifting himself up onto the horse, "We have much to talk about." Chog bowed even lower and stood up. What a day.

[Inara]

Since the encounter with Ceafore in the Outer District, the party had gathered in the rather tremendous and lavishly decorated military conference room. The doors and ceilings seemed fit for Chog himself, stretching far enough into the sky that one couldn't dream of throwing a ball upwards and hit the top. A long table of a golden brown color stretched down the hall-like room, covered by multiple maps and papers filled to the brim with characters.

Against Zaia's multiple objections, given that she was still a fugitive in the Inner City, and Rahéü's apparent insistence that the Giant not force the Vor'Teski girl into any situation she did not deem herself comfortable, Chog had "requested" that she attend. Ultimately, he had had to vaguely threaten that if she did not come willingly he would simply carry her, and the fugitive had finally donned her strangely undamaged cloak, bow, and pack, conceding that it would not be wise to irritate someone four times her size. In truth, the Giant was grateful for her help in securing a few lives amid the fires, and was also further interested in such abilities; it was not often their army recruited healers. He only hoped she would join them. Reliel returned with the girl, informed by Chog that Zaia could help her eyesight and broken arm, which of course the healer accomplished within a few minutes with relative ease, even restoring the girl's eyesight from the damage done by the smoke. The two nobles, the rescued girl, Zaia, Raheü, and Vindraemel along with several other knights entered the room with quick haste, not bothering to go through with the formalities. Vindraemel sat at the head of the table, situated between two other similarly-dressed knights of seemingly equal importance. Chog and Reliel took a seat close by, and offered a seat to both Rahéü and Zaia -of course, the Giant made no gesture to have Rahéü anywhere nearby. The fugitive, while appreciative of the ironic honor, was mostly just relieved that the knight Sanse was nowhere in sight. She wondered how these other Linnestrad Knights did not know of her current status. Either communication was abysmal between the military units of this city, or Sanse was after her for his own agenda.

"Fetch us some food," Vindraemel commanded a patient servant standing just behind his chair. The lord entwined his fingers and rested his elbows upon the table, leaning forward with a heavy sigh. "How went the mission?" he looked to Chog and Reliel. The two quite literally opened their mouths for a moment before falling silent, lowering their gaze.

"It failed, simply put," Chog replied, finally. "The Ghostlord was unwilling to accept our offers of peace and military help."

"No d-doubt he doesn't c-comprehend the nature of Prophet Thesia's power," Reliel added.

"He requested we... show his son," Chog glanced at the Kwandan, who returned the stare with hopeful inquest, though he did not understand why the Giant had suddenly shot him such a glance, "How capable we are, as well as evidence to prove that our power is necessary. He does not believe the prophesied Death God is anything noteworthy." The healer's ears, which until now had been only passively listening to the conversation, turned to listen actively upon the mention of a Death God, especially one powerful enough to be prophesized.

"Foolish," Vindraemel bluntly put, scoffing audibly at the choices that barbarian lord had made, "Did this Kwandan not see the power already? Is that not enough?"

"I would not know. The Death God who attacked the Ghostlord twenty-four years ago is barely recorded. How Ceafore compares is... unknown," Chog explained.

Rahéü, incapable of understanding the serious back and forth that the nobles and the guard captain were engaged in, found himself somewhat excluded from the topics of discussion; it was only natural given the language barrier between the Kwandan and the Humans who surrounded him.
He looked up across the table, almost ignoring the nobles and made eye contact with the dark-skinned Vor'Teski girl who had helped him in the earlier battle, as a small smile crept to the corner of his mouth and his dark eyes lit up with some sort of relief. From across the distance of the table, he mouthed a simple Vor'Teski word which he had learned years before: 'Schwach'sin', before looking back down to the table to fiddle with a dangling strap of leather from his sparse apparel.

Though she was not excluded from the conversation, seeing as she actually spoke the Common Tongue, Zaia's mind took in everything around her, including the Kwandan's mouthed comment, which roughly translated to "What idiots" in English. She smirked slightly, enjoying the small joke between herself and the only person whom she could even begin to trust in this room. As far as she was concerned, the knights were likely to arrest her once they found out that one of their own wanted her imprisoned. Let's face it, she may have been innocent at first, but she had committed a crime in trying to escape. No one but her and the girl Racia knew that the wound Zaia had inflcted had been neither serious nor painful. The Kwandan noted that she had heard his comment, and chuckled under his breath as she shot back a quick smile in response.

"For Xercine's sake, get a damned translator!" Vindraemel suddenly yelled, pounding the table with a golden fist. The Vor'Teksi woman jumped slightly at the sudden forcefulness of the man's voice, thinking that it was a rather rude and uncalled-for way of making the request.

"For... what language, my Lord?" a second stand-by servant meekly asked.

"Kwandan! Someone who can speak it!" The servant bowed quickly and rushed out the room as fast as the boy's legs could carry him. Vindraemel returned his attention back to the party before him. Rahéü's head followed the small boy as he practically sprinted from the room, and raised his thick arm to click his fingers at the servant before he could get out to perform his duties.

"Food" he muttered, still heavily accented. "Nao". He turned once more to Zaia and smiled, though it was a much broader and obvious grin than before.

"You'll get your damned food soon enough, beast," Vindraemel growled. Leaning back into his seat. He turned to the two other knights seated beside him and asked, "And what of the Valkyrian expedition?"

"I was not aware that it was Brevnirian custom to be so rude and insulting to those with whom you are trying to forge an alliance," Zaiabel intejected smoothly, but certainly loud enough for Vindraemel to hear clearly. The medic was unable to stop herself from defending this new friend who was clearly out of his cultural element. After all, she would never forget one of the first meals she had eaten with Rolik where he had had to teach her how to use a human fork. It was Vor'Teksi custom to eat slowly with one's fingers, not to complicate things with these strange utensils. And it was quite clear that Vor'Teksi culture was no where near as different from Human as Kwandan culture was. One of the knights had opened his mouth to explain to Vindraemel the situation, but shut it as soon as Zaia interrupted. The golden lord turned his attention to Zaia, glaring from behind his intricately designed helm.

"And who is this?" he asked, completely overlooking her comment. Chog shifted in his seat before introducing her. "An excellent healer! This is Zaiabel Ircha. You may not have noticed, but she aided many wounded during the-"

"But what is she doing here?" Vindraemel stopped Chog. The Giant pulled in a breath of air, as if about to answer, but let it out slowly instead, failing to answer. The lord waited for a few seconds before returning his attention back to his adjacent knights. "So?"

"I'm glad you asked... and sorry to say," the high knight began. Vindraemel visibly tensed, ready to hear the bad news. "That Death God Jinkain killed much of the expedition before they could reach the Valkyrie Temple. They retreated." Before Vindraemel could speak, the doors to the conference room burst open, giving way to a line of servants carrying hastily-prepared food to the gathering. Various plates of meats and fruits were laid out before them, including an entire pig itself for Chog alone. Raheü, on the other hand, was presented with a rather human-sized meal. He was not visibly pleased at the prospect, but the concept of ownership had little meaning to Kwandans; the Ghoststalker had already begun to eye the spit-roasted boar. Vindraemel held up a hand before the servants could depart, stopping them dead in their tracks. With his raised hand, he gestured to Rahéü and cocked his head. The servants were silent, but a look of worry cast over them as they turned fully to face the lord.

"Does he look like someone who'd be satisfied with that?" A few quick-minded servers immediately understood and rushed out of the room, while the others could only follow suit before finally comprehending his intentions. Vindraemel eyed his own food, but did not eat for several minutes. The Kwandan, on the other hand, had already picked up his starter 'human-sized' meal with one titan fist and stuffed it into his gaping maw within moments of being served. He sat visibly agitated afterwards, unsatisfied with the portion, fidgeting slightly and shifting his eyes left and right as if he were about to steal all the food on the table.

He had already seen and smelled the succulent pork that had been presented to the Metal oaf who was, in Rahéü's eyes, apparently incapable of killing a simple Mage with a direct blow even while wielding a giant halberd. He took several moments to scope Chog's meal, before coughing loudly and pointing in Chog's opposite direction, leading him to look away from his meal for a mere moment. The time was utilised by the Kwandan to rip a leg from the pig with a sickening tear before stuffing the whole thing into his mouth, albeit with the toed end still dangling from his mouth, and turning away before Chog could look back, as if nothing had happened between the two. The Giant grumbled in response, but he had experienced plenty of moments during a meal that would otherwise compromise his attempts at maintaining composure; being a giant, many looked at him initially and thought him savage or dumb. It took a long while to change the way his peers saw him.

"So then we are failing on both ends," Vindraemel muttered to himself, poking at one of the food items with his fork. "The Prophet has not said anythign more?" The two higher knights shook their heads as they scarfed down their own meals. Vindraemel looked to the other guests with a wide, slow turn of his head, as if counting their heads.

"She did, however, say her powers were muted lately. We know not the reason," one of the knights stated. "The Eastern One, however, may still prove useful."

"If you can find her," the other knight objected." Reliel immediately stood, pushing her chair out with a loud squeak.

"We can f-find her," she announced, looking between Chog, Raheu, and Zaia as if to silently ask for their support.

"Why are you people depending on outside influences anyway?! You are hardly effectively using the resources you have here," Zaiabel interjected suddenly. "You leave a good three-quarters of your city completely vulnerable to slaughter, your communication between your divisions appears weak at best, and have you even considered perhaps training some of the townspeople to help bolster your forces here?"

"Our entire city is vulnerable to slaughter, as I would hope you could understand after seeing Death God Ceafore's power," Vindraemel replied, his voice calm.

"Yes, but as you stated yourself earlier, you are not even prepared to fight this far outside the Inner City walls. It is as though you will not even make an attempt to defend the poorer districts."

"We have no intention of defending those Ceafore does not fully intend to target," Vindraemel retorted, "Would you rather our forces be spread thin, rendered as weak a target as any for slaughter? We are not dealing with an army, little girl. We are dealing with one individual who has proven to be quite the escape artist. We protect those areas in which she intends to strike. That being said, our Inner District is heavily guarded, and quite dense in forces."

"So, the fact that she did strike out there is of no importance to you? Besides, the fact that you are fighting one target, or a select few, seeing as Ceafore cannot be the only Death God that will ever target this city, makes it all the more important that your forces be communicating with more efficiency so that they can converge on the threat," the healer retorted, ignoring the inaccuracy of Vindraemel's comment, given that her hair was already showing streaks of silver.

"You keep speaking of this supposed lack of communication, for some odd reason. You have seen nothing of our forces. As soon as Ceafore attacked, we were already well on our way to intercepting her."

"And yet, had the Giant and the Kwandan not shown up at the exact right moment, exactly 29 of your citizens would have already been massacred. As it was, you still lost a dozen. That can hardly be called an acceptable casualty," the Vor'Teksi outsider retorted, remaining silent about the real reason she found the forces disorganized, that there was currently a fugitive discussing tactics with the apparent Captain of the Guard.

Rahéü let out another short but intense cough, aimed at attaining the attention of those that surrounded him, but more importantly the Vor'Teski healer. He looked her in the eye before looking at the others in turn before pointing to his chest and tapping.

"Rahéü" he boomed across the lengthy conference room. "I.. Rahéü. Nort Kwandan. Rahéü"

Zaiabel turned towards Rahéü. "I apologize, Rahéü. I meant no offense, we simply did not have a chance to exchange pleasantries earlier."

He returned her glare, unknowing of her latest words. He simply smiled once more in reassurance and turned his gaze back to a small loaf of bread across from him, which he proceeded to snap up with a quick jolt of his arm.

"In any case, why not bolster your forces by training some of the townspeople in some simple weaponry, such as the crossbow?" the healer continued, "Even if they are not well trained enough to join your forces, at least they might have a fighting chance at defending themselves rather than being slaughtered like so many livestock. Train them in simple medical and herbal remedies so that they might be able to heal each other when injured. The Death Gods are a threat to us all, surely if your diplomatic attempts have failed, than it is logical to use all available local resources."

"This Vor'Teksi is evidently not well versed in the military," one of the knights scoffed.

"Decidedly so. I didn't invite her here to debate tactics," Vindraemel responded.

"Did you even invite her at all?" the other knight chuckled. The table fell silent for a moment before the golden knight stood up from his chair and gestured to the still-standing Reliel.

"If you find the Eastern Prophet, we may have a chance at using our forces to intercept the prophesied Death God before it arrives at our borders."

"And the Emerald Wall?" Chog questioned. Vindraemel swept aside his cape and walked beside the table for the door, followed by his two knights.

"If the Ghostlord will not listen to reason, we have no obligation to aid them," Vindraemel dreadfully claimed, walking out of the room. The remaining knights, Chog and Reliel remained still and silent, as if they too had said something childish.

"Do we keep Rahéü with us, or do we send him back?" Chog inquired. Reliel glanced at the Kwandan, and her expression shifted to one of evident guilt. She knew he was not meant to be here in the city in the first place, but she felt reluctant to simply dismiss him and his people. There was a small hope in her heart that somehow, safely, they could convey to Rahéü the Emerald Wall's danger. She shook her head, prompting another heavy sigh from the giant and grabbed the girl's hand to exit. Chog stood up from his own immense chair and sighed once again.

"Zaiabel, if you wish, you may stay with us. We will soon depart for the East, and you are welcome and advised to join us. We could use someone with healing expertise such as yourself."

"Very well, Sir," the medic replied politely, fidgeting with her necklace. "I will join you, if your colleagues will even allow it," she spat, feeling rather idiotic. Maybe she did not know what she was saying, she did lack experience after all. But the fact that the golden knight essentially stopped arguing and had completely dismissed her entirely made her wonder if he was simply too thick-headed to listen to someone who did not outrank him. For someone who had the ability to bring a man back from the brink of death, Zaia had never felt so powerless as she had today. The cruelty and power of the Death God was... somehow even more incredible than she had imagined.

Noting that Chog and Reliel had stood, Rahéü promptly allowed himself to let loose a tremendous burp that would have echoed through the chamber for a good moment or so, before standing himself up to brush breadcrumbs from his lap and checking all aspects of his gear in preperation for moving once again. He was unsure exactly what was going on, but his efforts to understand the strange and subservient nature of the Human Culture would only be sated by accompanying his apparent guides wherever they found themselves. He didn't like Chog, but the Vor'Teski girl seemed understanding, and he would not allow her to travel alone with the savage brutes. He felt protective of her - moreso than any other he had met during his time in Brevnir and he was unsure why.

Zaia looked at her new guides, the gigantic - did she catch his name as Chog? - and the much more normal-sized Knightess, whom she thought was called Reliel. "Have you heard of a knight of this city, named Sanse Milfas, and a girl, probably a friend of his, named Racia?" she asked innocently, for she was curious as to what he had to be hiding. Surely her status was not as well-known as she had first expected, if she could sit in a room chock-full of nights and not be arrested.

Chog was readying to leave for the door himself and escort Zaia to a place she could sleep when he stopped dead in his tracks, slamming his boots hard into the stone floor as if to prevent his body from moving any further. Turning violently, his cape battered in the air, smacking against a pillar just behind him.

"Wh-who did you just say?" he stumbled to ask, staring intently into Zaia's eyes.

"Racia. A young blonde girl, looks to be about twelve or so, who is extremely ill. What do you know about her and the knight?" the Vor'Teksi outsider replied, fidgeting with her necklace. Her voice, however, remained far more firm than she felt, seeing as she was not eager to irritate a Giant. There was obviously something very strange about this little girl.

Chog immediately bolted over to Zaia, nearly knocking aside the table as he stood before her. The Giant crouched low and spoke quietly next to her ear.

"Where did you see her? How sick was she? Who was with her?" he shot out question after question at her, startling Zaia slightly, but she took it in stride.

"Soon after I entered the Inner City yesterday, Sanse stopped to question me. I informed him that I was a healer and he asked me to examine the girl. I tried to determine what was wrong with her. But it is a magic I have never seen. Her body appears to be suffering severe stress from the force of some kind of strange energy, but there was no 'conventional' sign of illness, inside her. She was in a lot of pain, and had a high fever. I was able to quell those symptoms for the time being, but I was... erm... asked to leave soon afterwards. Why is she so important to your people? She is just a child."

Chog stood up, taken aback by her words, nearly falling over a collection of chairs near his feet. He turned behind to glance at the still open door to the conference room, as if checking to see that no one was still overhearing their conversation.

"She is Vindraemel's daughter," he practically whispered.

A look of pure terror crossed Zaia's face, but only for a moment. "What is ailing her?" she asked innocently.

"I did not even know she is sick. She has been missing for some time now," Chog explained.

"Missing?! But she was right there in a small room the barracks! Milfas seemed to be protecting her somehow. Several of the knights have been watching her. What's going on here?" For once, the scholar did not know what to think. What was going on with this ridiculous city? And why were they wasting time on power plays with each other when the Gods could attack the city any moment.

"What Sanse has to do with this is beyond me, but something is definitely not as it should be. We must speak to Vindraemel immediately," Chog suggested, gesturing to the exit.

[Asuras]

"Bah! All the more to kill you as quickly as possible!" Ciardha shrieked, her eyes wide with a supressed terror. The circle of vampires, though still shuddering with paranoia, lifted their daggers tightly and ran for Mathras with shrill yells. Two swiped at his right side, being the closest, aiming to bleed the man with as much pain as possible. They would not grant him an easy death, not with the memory of their dead sisters seared to their mind.

Now that the glowing tree's light leveled the playing field for Mathras he had ample time to see and react, though the battle cries also helped give him direction. Not enough time or an opening to draw the sabre, yet, but enough time to pull out a flashy evocation. Mathras shouted an arcane command and thrust his left hand forth at them, and from it a mote of light quickly grew into a blinding burst of white energy.

Light. Bright light. It was the likely the greatest possible spell he could have unleashed upon the vampires, save for a flurry of heart-homing cross-shaped stakes. The hooded vampires cowered in the light, pulling their hoods down to cover their pale faces with a hiss. Ciardha too averted her eyes, looking away to protect her already-marred face from experiencing the singeing effects of sunlight. Mathras pulled his sabre out from beneath his robes with his free hand and sliced at the head of the vampire in front of him, driving the blade forward as he lunged through the circle.

The sound of the blade cleaving the vampires head asunder lassoed Ciardha's attention, and she welcomed the oncoming man and his blade with the unsheathing of her own; a rapier of elegant design for so elegant a person.

'I said five days... I guess they got impatient. Lucky me.'

His eyes stayed focused on Ciardha, the subject of all his hatred and malice, his arm eager to drive the edge into her heart, thrusting his blade forward. Ciardha swiveled sideways, her armed hand extending the piercing sword for Mathras, and with a quick twist and flick of her wrist, she swept aside the man's sword from her direction. With the motion still flowing, Ciardha brought the rapier across her chest and thrust it forward for Mathras chest. How ironic would it be to be staked in the heart by a vampire?

Mathras flipped his sword upward and held it to his chest as he turned sideways and backstepped from Ciardha's rapier. Far too close for comfort.

"We've never fought personally before. Am I that predictable?" Mathras said with a sarcastic tone, giving her a mocking grin-- he finally had a chance to take her down personally, and in front of her clan... now all he had to do was actually pull it off.

"You're stupid, that is what makes you predictable," Ciardha explained, sliding backwards to gain a slightly larger gap between the two. "You're foolish, dumb, unintelligent..." she continued, thrusting her weapon with every insult.Their blades clanged together after every stab Ciardha made at him, and while Mathras continued blocking he moved to position himself further away from the circle.

"You may be surprised, Ciardha," Mathras replied as he continued evading and blocking her strikes, "Reckless stupidity can be unpredictable in itself!" And with that, Mathras stepped in and lashed out with a wide swing at her torso. Indeed, reckless stupidity. His guard was open at the end of his swing and he was but a few feet away from Cairdha.

The rapier was indeed elegant, but it came at a price; while capable of parrying with ease by the grace of its light weight, it contained little mass to withstand larger weaponry. Mathras utter hatred for the vampire served him well in his swing, adding to the physical force behind it. Her attempted block was practically swatted away, and she was wounded.

"Gack!" Ciardha cried out, her belly slashed into by Mathras' sword. She stumbled backwards, gripping at her open gash. Blood dripped from her cloak, soakign her pale hands in red. Another roar bellowed in the forest, and Ciardha shivered with fear and pain. The remaining vampires rushed to her side, holding her to her feet.

"Y-you bastard. You lose. You lost. This isn't anything you should be proud of!" she murderously growled.

"Run home and tell the rest of your clan," Mathras told her, "Tell them I'll be waiting."

Knowing their situation to be hopeless in a forest patrolled by two angry, vampire-slaying Death Gods, they made their escape, backing away into the unlit forest. Elge Treesea and Mathras were left on their own, assumed to be in just as much danger by the retreating vampires.

Mathras heart continued pounding as he stood with his blade dripping with vampire blood, staring blankly into the shadows where the clan retreated. His devilish grin mellowed out into a soft smile as he dropped on one knee, slipping out an empty glass vial from inside his robes.

He let out an exhausted sigh and looked up to Elge for a brief moment, "I... I didn't think that would actually work."

"Neither did I," she looked on with gleaming, wide eyes, "I thought you were doomed. You're welcome for lying." Her voice suddenly turned sour, as if she paid him a great service. Technically, she did, but she also betrayed him in the worst way possible, and it was likely she was speaking in such a way to drown out the guilt she still felt. "Are there truly Death Gods out there?"

Mathras snickered as he turned his head back up to her, "Funny you mention that..." he said as he let the vampire's blood drip into the vial from his sword, "...because I wasn't lying. You actually weren't far from the truth. In fact," Mathras smirked, "The Death God I met upon that mountain peak is indeed a vampire hunter, as is his friend from the other peak; he has no interest in anything but killing vampires."

"What luck, hm?" Elge smiled, lifting herself off the porch with a short hop. Her demeanor was anything but one of energy or fear, as if the entire ordeal she had just gone through was merely a play, and the emotions wore off.

"I intended to meet Ciardha," Mathras said as he put a stopper over the vial of vampire blood, depositing it in his alchemy bag, "But... I didn't expect her to be here so soon."

Once he rose to his feet, he turned and approached Elge. He looked... relieved. It takes a lot to have a friend in Mathras, but for Elge to have gone out on a limb like that redeemed her almost entirely. Almost. He still needed the flower. He spent a minute in thought of the events that transpired, and a couple things didn't quite add up; he didn't have all the details to make sense of what happened.

"What leverage did Ciardha have?" Elge went silent, tightening her lips. Eventually Elge gave in, figuring any hope she had at resolving the shattered trust would require her cooperaton.

"I have little connection to the world outside here. I am blind in many ways, isolated, and alone. The trees across the world are my only source of sight, and the smaller the grove, the less sense I can make of my surroundings. I am a forest spirit, and I am bound to the trees. Where they may be, I can stand, but if it is but a few trees, I can only see with a heavy haze around my eyes, and the less physical contact I have there. But I have been even more isolated for far too long. Those vampires, they sealed me here many years ago, and forced me to cooperate or have my only home destroyed. I was their eyes and ears in many ways, able to see only through trees which they had marked," she explained, "They wanted me to look for you. And when I did..."

"They found me," Mathras finished her sentence. He was already quite sure that Elge was the reason they knew he was here to begin with, but her explanation answered many questions on it's own. Mathras rubbed his chin for a moment as he studied her and analyzed her explanation. He found her to not only be truthful be genuinely apologetic. On top of that, another strange phenomenon was easily explained by her situation. The wind from before.

"You..." he pointed at her, "You didn't want me to come here. You knew what would be waiting for me. The wind tried to send me back-- rather, you tried to send me back."

"Evidently, it didn't work," she held back a smile and Mathras shrugged in response, "But that was the intent. I was reluctant to let them know, to let you go, and thus the wind only conveyed so much. When you had come anyways, I lsot control, and I told them you were here. I sent you away with a pointless task to give them time to arrive here before you returned. But with them gone..." Elge looked skyward, her eyes deep in thought as she considered...

"You can free me from here," Elge suddenly noted, darting her attention to Mathras like some predator catching sight of its prey. Mathras shifted his eyes about nervously after the forest spirit once again managed to startle him.

He thought it over for a moment, 'I suppose I might as well. She did, by proxy, end up saving me... somehow,' At his conclusion he decided to lean in and listen intently.

"If you take me from here, I can help you retrieve another Sabenira." The spirit approached the spot in the dirt where Ciardha had mutilated the plant, and picked up as many still intact pieces as she could.

Mathras suddenly looked very interested. As he stepped forward to Elge he looked over his shoulder, taking a moments notice of the beheaded vampire still laying upon her grounds before he looked back.

"We'll take care of that later... anyhow, what exactly do you need me to do to free you?"

"The vampires placed sealing spells around this grove, preventing me from scrying into the spirits of plants that they haven't marked themselves. If you remove it, I can follow you anywhere you go so long as you keep this with you," Elge explained, pulling out a pendant from her neck. Held by a thin metal chain, the pendant glowed a dim blue akin to the tree over her home. She handed it to Mathras and stepped back. "I won't truly be with you as I am here, but I can guide you."


Mathras folded his hands and paced around in the dimly lit clearing for a few moments to strategize his approach, as getting rid of seals wasn't always as easy as just 'poof, it's done'. He did indeed practice thaumaturgy frequently, but he also figured that Ciardha would've had help making the seals. He could guess a couple people that knew how to break them.

'Another strange object...' Mathras thought as he held out a hand to accept the pendant, "I can imagine the aid of a forest spirit will be quite useful down the road, but to remove the seals I'll need help. I know just the person I could count on but... I really need the Earth Heart."

Elge cocked her head to the side as she lifted a single eyebrow. Looking at Mathras as if he were mumbling some incomprehensible language, she mumbled some incomprehensible words and rose a finger in opposition to his statement.

"I do believe the seals are more easily removed than you think," Elge pointed out. She walked towards the dirt path that led to her home and rose a hand to an invisible wall only she could feel. To Mathras, it was but empty air. "Beyond my home, Ciardha placed marked stones that prevent scrying powers from exiting this grove. A sort of astral blockade. I only need you to dismantle them, move them, something, to disrupt their efficiency."

Marked stones. That actually made things a lot simpler. Mathras gave a significant look in return to Elge's explanation and replied, "I do remember seeing a pile of marked stones nearby the path I used to walk here... I could certainly take care of that-- I had just assumed... Ciardha was a little more clever than that."

Oh boy is she. There were more than a couple times that a single oversight brought Mathras a hell of a lot more trouble from her clan than it should normally.

"If she wanted to keep you under her thumb," He continued as he paced about, "She wouldn't want her power being undone by a little heroic vandalism."

"She didn't need to worry about heroic vandalism. So long as this tree remained here," Elge gestured to the brilliantly glowing blue tree behind her, "I could not physically leave here. Even if one broke those stones at my request, she could simply come back to restore them. I only ask you, Mathras, because I know she will not come here any more."

Mathras relaxed a little more as he started to see Elge's true colors. Certainly she was eccentric and perhaps her demeanor was a bit offputting but... she meant well at least.

Ciardha had every reason not to come back. After the deal with the Death God Vrakken there was no chance of them returning. Just as well, there was a high chance of Vrakken and Zank routing her clan... that is, if it hadn't happened already. Mathras nodded in agreement at her rather valid points, "That is true... she certainly wouldn't come back after meeting the Death Gods."

He left his sentence open like he intended to have a follow up, but he continued pacing about with his hand on his chin, contemplating his next course of action. Mathras figured that if she had already said she could help him that she would, but a Forest Spirit was one of the Fae, and creatures like that were bound to manipulate for their own gain. On top of this, Elge was a woman; Mathras had standards to uphold and rules to follow, and he broke one of them simply by taking up Elge's task in the first place.

'And look what that got me...' he thought as he stared at the ground, his hand on his chin. He stood there for several seconds before he looked down to his alchemy bag, raising an eyebrow.

A smile came across his face. 'Oh yeah... Ciardha's blood and another dead vampire,' he thought' 'If anything Elge would owe something to me, and I at least owe that much to her... even if it is a little roundabout how it turned out to be a favor.'

"I will agree to free you, Spirit."

Besides, it wasn't like Mathras wasn't fully capable of sealing her back in the forest by himself. It was bad for business to betray those who free you bondage. And stupid.

"Thank you!" Elge happily shouted, sounding genuinely grateful for his decision, "Being a Forest Spirit, I am more than capable of serving as an incredible eye for you! If you need to know anything, I will do my best to learn it and let you know! In yor sleep I can keep watch, and when you need to see further I can scout out!" Elge listed off everything she could possibly do, one by one, barely taking a breath as she smiled.

Mathras was thunderstruck at the overwhelmingly good response. It was out of necessity before to stay away from women but there was an obvious exception here; Elge was actually eager to help, and this sounded like the best deal Mathras had ever been given... literally ever.

'I could certainly use an extra pair of eyes... I never did get my hands on any sort of knowledge spirits, and a forest spirit could be in all the right places for my trade... alchemy would be even easier if I would just inherently know where to be. Elge Treesea, where have you been all my life?'

Mathras clapped his hands and rubbed them together, "So, I suppose I should get started by destroying the stone pile I saw by the road. And... the tree binds you here?"

"More specifically, it is me. The tree is my heart, and my corporeal body you see before you cannot wander beyond this grove. Any appearances you may see elsewhere are but astral projections," Elge explained, seemingly happy to explain her situation. Mathras was quite intrigued, and it showed through his expression. He made a mental note to document Elge Treesea in his book... somewhere in 'Allies', 'Apparitions', and 'Assets'.

"Very interesting..." he mumbled, then he spoke up as he made his way out of the forest grove, a mote of light flickering to life over his open left palm to serve as a torch, "Now if you don't mind-- I'm sure you won't-- I'll go take care of your little seal problem."

"Please do so," Elge smiled, clasping her hands together as if to plead to Mathras. The Forest Spirit stood by patiently, awaiting his part of the deal. Reflecting on her former betrayal and his quick acceptance of her offer, Elge couldn't shake the feeling that he just might leave her there without setting her free; and she couldn't blame him if he did.

As he passed by the beheaded vampire upon her grounds, he glanced at it briefly and then looked to Elge, "I'll be sure to take care of that little mess too. It uh... kind of clashes with the whole floral thing you have here," Mathras gestured to... the entirety of her home and garden, which basically consisted of him haphazardly waving his hands around to the whole place.

When Mathras arrived as the stone pillar, he began to wonder why he never thought anything of the pillar in the first place. He's wondering if he could've saved Elge the trouble initially by just destroying it in the first place.

As he raised his open palms to the stones and focused his will upon the mote of light, 'Even if I didn't know it was a seal I wouldn't have destroyed it in the first place. Seals are, more often than not, put in place to keep dangerous things locked away.'

For a moment he stopped and furrowed his brows. He had second thoughts about destroying the stones, 'Am I really sure I want to do thi--' he realized he already had the bolt of energy ready, and if he held onto it any longer it would backfire on him. As he released his will upon it, a thunderous sound of the energy tearing through the air echoed through the trees, along with the resulting explosion of the stone pillar. The pillar was immediately reduced to broken rubble and dust, and as it settled he could feel a slight 'popping' in the air. From the remains of stone layed out in the pile, small wisps of energy crept out of the rocks like tiny bugs before taking to the air in opposite directions. The tiny lights escaped into the forest, a thin smoke-like trail following their path.

Mathras put his hands on his hips and looked around the forest for any sign of it working. He waited for a few moments in silence until a faint, almost distorted voice commended him.

"That's good, just a few more," Elge's unmistakable voice called out. Just beside him, a transparent image of the Forest Spirit stood, practically invisible were it not for her voice directed Mathras' attention to her.

Mathras fanned away some dust from the air with his hand and stepped forward, "There's more?" He made a double take at the flying white wisps before his eyes widened at the realization that those were his lead. He cursed under his breath and tailed the first light he could catch up to.

Nearly half an hour later, a great majority of the stones had been destroyed, and the tell-tale signs of a failed area spell audibly whispered in the air around Mathras. Elge had slowly become more and more visible with each fallen seal until she was fully opaque. She looked at her own hands, checking to ensure she was truly free. Elge let out a sigh of relief, and it became apparent her voice was nevertheless ghostly and distant, as if she were speaking to Mathras from some dream-like state.

"Thank you Mathras," she grinned, "I can only assume you wish to proceed quickly. The town here will give you shelter, if you've got some coins. Unless you wish to become well-rested, we head East to a... friend... of mine." Elge looked aside, pausing as she mentioned the supposed 'friend' she intended to lead Mathras to. "She can create a Sabenira with the remains."

"Did I mention I'm an alchemist?" Mathras said with a grin as he slipped out a semi-opaque orange potion labeled 'Forced March'. The liquid looked a strange brown in the blue light he held it up to until Mathras lit up another white mote. He glanced at the label and then back to Elge, "I think I'll be fine tonight."

'Besides...' Mathras sighed inwardly as he grimaced, popping the stopper and downing the bittersweet drink, 'I didn't actually bring any money with me.'

[Disciple Cain]

Collab between Disciple Cain and Asuras

Chapter 2 - Grim Grove

Two days later, and Mathras found himself before a rather formidable sight. A deafening whistle screamed to the heavens, frightening the unprepared and annoying the rest. Standing upon the flattened platform of Illestam's grandiose train station, Mathras was surrounded by countless shuffling bodies of nearly every shape and size he could imagine. Hooded figures hunched over at the edge of the platform while boisterous merchants called out to those in the area to buy products for the trip. Others stood by their grounded rucksacks, guarding them from potential roaming thieves. Mathras himself was already nervous about being in such a large crowd and it showed by the way he awkwardly pushed past people, but he at least took solace in the fact that it was still daytime. A floating stone object hovered on the other side of the immense track, and with a small click, it opened up its circular center to reveal a glowing jewel that shined brightly even under the light of the sun.

Much of the individuals present backed away from the track, picking up their children or belongings to scramble backwards. Another whistle, this time even louder, approached the platform. Were it not for the very place he found himself in, Mathras would have attributed the rumbling in the earth to a powerful earthquake. Even still, he winced and threw his hands over his ears as the noise blared through the station. Mathras rubbed at his ear with his pinky and groaned inwardly, 'I never get used to that...'

Suddenly, a blast of wind swept along the platform, violently whipping the people's hair and clothing about. What was once open air before them was replaced by a titanic wall of metal moving at a slowing speed. Steel screeched underneath the massive machine, eventually dying out to leave the train at a standstill. Steam hissed from numerous pipes as several doors opened. Two ticket collectors stood at the entrances, preventing anyone from entering before being checked in. Thankfully, Mathras had been able to pay for a ticket by selling off his last bottle of Elf Hazel, 'A wonderous white gel that removes scars after a week's application-- guaranteed,' removes stretch marks, too. All the rage with the ladies. Just because Mathras doesn't really trust the lot of em doesn't mean he'd ostracize a part of his market. Bad for business.

"I've never been on a train before, what's it like?" Elge spoke from the pendant she had given Mathras earlier. As the station was deep within the city, few trees meant she couldn't appear as an apparition, and so was restricted to the magic pendant as a muffled voice.

Mathras had grown used to the voice out of nowhere, but he wasn't so sure everyone else would feel the same. He nervously eyed the people around him before he gave a significant look to the amulet, "Can anyone else hear you?"

"Yes, is there something wrong? Aren't there magicks that allow one to speak over long distances?" Elge asked, as if such a magic skill was common to all.

"Not commonly," Mathras replied in a hushed tone. Not many people seemed to pay much attention to the fact that Mathras looked like he was talking to no one, however, so he shook his head and returned to answering her question, "But as for the train... it's quite a mechanical wonder. A machine capable of crossing countries in mere days,"

He sounded like he was quite invested in his own description of it as he continued, "Watching the massive landscapes rolling by as we dart through them at speeds not even the fastest horses alive could achieve... it's indeed something to behold."

"Can you feel the wind?" Elge asked almost childishly. Her voice was curious and eager, and for any intuitive individual it would have seemed as if their fate was sealed to become a talking library of wealth preaching to a tiny toddler of limited experience.

The crowd slowly dwindled in size, filing into the massive black train; a nearly three-story machine and as wide as a low-class home. A board post earlier had indicated the track was hundreds of miles long and stopped at countless points, the Far East included. Elge mentioned her 'friend' resided in the foreign nation of Kamui, a trip that unless completed by train would take months, years even, to reach. It was no wonder the vehicle was so massive; it likely carried hundreds of people around the continent.

Mathras smiled at her curiosity and shook his head, "No, unfortunately. Not unless you're on top of the train," Mathras explained to the disembodied voice, "But passengers tend to not be allowed there."

"You humans always seem to want to stay inside of things, always afraid of the outside," Elge stated, her voice growing quieter as if disappointed. Soon it came upon Mathras to approach the pair of ticket checkers at the edge of the platform, and within the funnel-like pathway of shambling individuals, he was nearly compressed into paper by the impatient citizenry.

"Yes, well... we have good reasons to be afraid of the wilderness," Mathras told her, "Especially now." he mumbled under his breath, his expression turned grim for but a moment before his train of thought was interrupted.

"Ticket?" one of the checkers simply asked Mathras, extending a hand to take his slip of paper.

Mathras gestured with one finger, "A moment please, sir..." he said as he reached into his left sleeve to snag the ticket from inside his robes. He slipped it out and handed it to the ticket checker with a nod. Apathetically, the checker grabbed the paper and swiftly tore a shred from it, evidently quite skilled at the menial task. He turned his attention to another person beside Mathras, and continued his job.

Inside, the car was spacious and amazingly clean despite the general demographic of those who boarded the train. Several booths were lined along the edges, capable of fitting an entire royal family dinner in the one car alone. The ceiling was exceptionally tall, likely reaching twenty feet before terminating in an angled rooftop hung with what were likely eternal flames; no one could reach that high to re-light them every time they blew out. In either direction, the car extended for several dozen feet before ending with a wall and two sets of doors. Most individuals were removing themselves from the entryway car, and headed deeper into the train.

Mathras himself headed out of the entryway car to get to somewhere that he could be alone, or at least in some sort of solitude and away from the crowds filing in.

"They can make this thing move faster than a horse?" Elge asked rhetorically, and it seemed as though she was looking about the car from the pendant by the way her voice crossed the air.

Mathras chuckled as he thought his last train ride, "This one? Oh ho ho... oh yes. Much faster, I believe." Mathras found himself an empty line of seats far back in the train; most citizens didn't bother going all the way to the back, considering the length of the trip it'd take to get back to the exit car. One could very well lose track of time and miss the window of opportunity to leave the railway. The entire car was alone and silent, and the open windows along the car let in a nice soothing sunlight. Mathras looked around as he ambled into the last car and smiled, "Wonderful. No one. Just us."

He settled into his seat after he was satisfied there was no one to hear him and Elge talking. Many minutes later, a sudden jolt rocked the car, and the entire train began to move. It was slow at first, but picked up in pace rather quickly until the mammoth vehicle was zipping past trees at a pace faster than any untrained human could count at. Once the ride settled down and Mathras was no longer being pushed back into his seat, he relaxed a little more by resting his chin on his hand and his elbow on his lap.

'Four days... four days is a long time,' Mathras mused as he stared out the window, 'I know she's going to be following me this time-- there's no way Ciardha got away from the rest of the clan without her favorite little assassin catching wind of it, and I told her what I was after... I told her how close I was. Heh, I'm guessing Ciardha caught wind of that and followed me to the mountains, too.' He stayed in silence outwardly, but stayed deep in thought inwardly for a while until Elge suddenly spoke.

"How long is four days?" Elge asked strangely, breaking the silence in the car.

Mathras lazily shifted his eyes to the amulet, raising an eyebrow in puzzlement at Elge through the stone, "How long is-- wait, you mean you don't know what a 'day' is?"

"I don't know what a day is. It is a length of time, yes?" she responded, hoping she was at least somewhat correct.

Mathras blinked at the stone, his bafflement mixing in with an amused smile. "Yes," Mathras confirmed, "It's a length of time. Generally accepted and more in depth, it is as long as one full cycle of the sun setting at night and rising again in the morning." Or something like that... Mathras wasn't sure if there was room for misinterpretation, but he didn't bother with measuring things in days, just worried about whether it was 'day or night'.

"I see..." Elge trailed off. The car fell silent once more, lasting for some unknown period of time. The sun rose and then began to fall, descending for the horizon below. Still, the sky shone brightly and clearly, but the length nevertheless likely took a toll on Mathras energy. But before he had the chance to even consider falling asleep, the car took in one more passenger.

Mathras' eyes shot open as a ruthless kick to the car door swung it open to reveal a tall and rather mishaven man. Clad in a purple long coat opened wide to reveal his toned chest and abs, he embodied a perfect arrogant delinquent, but a certain glow in his eye seemed to transcend the foolishness one would otherwise characterize him as. The man looked about the car before thrusting his hands into a pair of pockets and sitting himself down at a nearby booth. Carelessly, he lifted his boots up onto the table, surely crumbling specks of dirt and grime onto its surface.

'For some reason I don't trust him, but maybe it's just his entrance,' Mathras thought as he eyed him suspiciously from under his hood. The less Mathras said while he was around, the less of a chance there was of the man talking to him. He thought to say something snarky, but it was a bad idea to anger people on public transport, so he instead kept to himself after the man barged in as barbarically as he did.

Amidst the awkward simmering atmosphere, both men remained dead silent. The mysterious man shot a few leering glances at Mathras, as if his mere expression could turn Mathras gaze and send him off to another car. It almost seemed like that was the very battle they engaged in; who would give up their spot first and retreat to another car? He lifted his fingers to examine some tiny thing before rubbing them together and flicking away whatever it was. A few grunts and coughs exited his mouth as he leaned back further in his seat lazily.

Mathras rubbed the bridge of his nose as he felt that the tension was going to eventually give him a serious headache, or rather that this man's attitude would-- as if it already hadn't annoyed him enough. The leering was the first thing that attracted his ire, but the gall of it all-- the man's nonchalant delinqunce-- is what pissed him off. He let his hands slowly drop to his lap before he turned his head and looked right at him, saying, "Is there something you want, sir?" Irritation was easily heard in Mathras' tone.

The man let out a low hum, thinking to himself before speaking. "No, nothing at all," he said, casting off Mathras' irritance. The man looked out the window as he spoke, directing his gaze away from the flustered alchemist before returning eye contact... with a grin. "You seem anti-social, stayin' back here and all. You got a problem with the generates up there too?" he gestured with his eyes to the train cars further along the track.

Mathras leaned his head back for a moment and sighed inwardly before he replied, "I have my own reasons for seeking solitude," He paused for a moment before he added, "But then what about you? Why did you move to the back of the train?" He was curious, but there wasn't any tone or sound of curiosity in his voice, leaving his question rather bluntly stated.

"Because I can't stand hanging around em' for so long. It's just creepy. Feels like I'm always bein' watched by em'," he groaned, mock shivering to indicate his displeasure, "But I guess you're not the same. Not like I initially thought," the man began to whisper to himself, looking away from Mathras.

Mathras faced drooped into a tired frown, exhausted not only by the lack of sleep beginning to catch up with him but the lack of silence. Between his aching muscles and slight headache, there was little patience to talk to the man. Mathras folded his arms and bowed his head, leaning back in his seat to try to get a bit of rest.

He still had some reservations about being in the same cart as this man, so he slumped down a little bit further and whispered to the stone under his hood, "Let me know if he does anything questionable..." The man darted his eyes side to side, leaning his head over to get a glimpse of the booths he could not see inside of. Who was Mathras talking to? Himself? As much as he was confused and curious, he did not inquire, and merely slumped over himself, matching Mathras' lazy appearance. He still kept his eyes open, however, and watched the grasslands pass by for a few hours. He did not budge, and Elge did not mutter a word.

A single stop was made in the period Mathras rested, made beside an expansive but low-built city further Southeast from the Emerald Wall, and the purple-clothed man was still lying in his own booth across the car from him and was snoring quite loudly. The train roared to life again, picking up its former speed. Minutes later, another body entered the car -or rather, several bodies. Four armored individuals obscured by helmets and a female leader stood at the entrance to the car, their swords already unsheathed and gripped tightly. Yellow cloaks hung from their shoulders, nearly touching the floor. Their swords were flashy, to say the least, with intricately woven golden hand guards and numerous jewels embedded upon them. Their eyes trailed over Mathras for a moment, but focused on the snoring individual in the other booth.

'Something peculiar about the four of them suddenly showing up,' Mathras thought, 'They certainly don't look like common footsoldiers.'

Mathras waited until their gaze set upon the other man, then sat up to get a better look at the newcomers. He examined the four of them, paying special attention to their leader. He looked for a symbol or an insignia-- anything to identify them.

"Janus!" the leader shouted out questioningly, as if she were calling out into an audience to find a specific character. Already a name and one identifier-- it was a start. The man immediately perked up, shuffling to raise his back from the cushioned seat. Still groggy, he blinked slowly and asymmetrically before fully waking.

"Oh shit," he mumbled to himself. As soon as he confirmed their suspicions, the four knights beside the woman charged him, sprinting across the car within a split second. Their cloaks billowed upwards as they passed Mathras, displaying a circular insignia of a gull. The man supposedly named 'Janus' jerked upwards, throwing his boots to the floor after launching himself from the booth. It seemed as if he were doomed without a weapon considering the knights were already feet from his position, and yet the first sword strike did not connect; for a fleeting moment, Mathras could have sworn he'd seen some object appear in Janus' hands, though they remained empty even after the knight's sword clashed with a steel clang and was battered away.

Incessant sword strikes lashed out at the man, but all were parried by fleeting glimpses of his invisible weapon. It was as if the weapon burst into life whenever it contacted another surface, flashing a deep blue and disappearing just as quickly as lightning. With a spinning motion, Janus opened a clear strike to several of the knights and, turning back in place, threw his flashing weapon across the air. All four bent to their knees, and slowly split into two, their upper torsos falling to the side with a thump and a splash of blood and gore. The woman appeared unfettered, though her eyes glowed like furnaces and were clearly burning to fight.

Suddenly it wasn't such a great start. Mathras was fully awoken by the smell of fresh blood suddenly filling the train car. His eyes shot open and he bolted from his seat, and just in time to see the carnage that this 'Janus' guy had caused. With Mathras' suspicions confirmed, he began to prepare a retaliation.

"I remember that crest..." Mathras mumbled as he shuffled through his alchemy bag, "They're good people. Had I known he was a criminal I would've killed him myself-- might've saved a few lives..." A few flashy incantations here and there got you what you wanted against lesser foes, and sometimes even stronger foes if you know how to get to them, but this time Mathras would have to pull out all the stops.

"How the hell'd you find me here?" Janus groaned as he slid aside one of the corpses to step out of the amassing red pool. The woman breathed in deeply, extending her chest as if to size up the man.

"Our communications are instant with proper mages. You had no chance of escaping onto what we own," she explained. Janus clicked his tongue and averted his eyes.

"Wish I'd known that," he reflected. The woman turned her attention upon Mathras, but continued to speak to Janus. Mathras gave the woman a significant look for a moment before he continued searching through his bag, "I know it's in here... just never thought I'd actually need it today."

"Did you pick this one up?" the woman asked.

"Naw, he was just here," Janus retorted. "You gonna' let me off the train next stop? We can fight there." The leader brought her sword higher, pointing the tip for Janus' eyes and growled.

"Quit your games! You die here, in the name of Pastor Destain!" Just as the knights before had done, she too charged Janus. Unlike before, however, her sword was not so easily swept aside. As the two steels clashed, Janus weapon suddenly burst into life fully, revealing the quite large weapon to be a scythe. Janus blocked the woman's sword with the pole of the scythe, though was displaying trouble in comparison to the previously dispatched soldiers.

Janus thrust his arms out to free himself from the contesting clash, and spun his scythe around as he stepped back. Though no longer in contact with another weapon, his scythe yet still remained visible. The woman grit her teeth and charged once more, and at the sound of some magical force whirring through the air, rolled to the side. The entrance to the car suddenly exploded outwards, shattering windows nearby and blasting a gaping hole into the steel. The entire car moaned as if in agony, and the floor rumbled moreso than usual. Mathras jumped out of his booth as the wood and metal started to crunch into each other and parts of the car began to give way to the wind. "To hell with the potion," He said as he kicked through the wooden door and scrambled out of the collapsing booth.

"You will kill us both!" the woman protested. Janus rested the scythe upon his shoulder, glowering at Mathras. Mathras returned Janus' look with a smirk.

"And you thought I was the same," Mathras scoffed at him, "A murderer?" Mathras said as he raised his palms in front of him. No arcane words or energy yet... he just waited. Mathras looked upon Janus with disgust after he found he'd use his arcane power to murder four good men of house Ollerus, and now he was about to take a whole train car with him. Mathras already had a stressful week-- he wasn't about to let some purple-coated magister waltz on in to his car and ruin his peaceful day.

"Not quite, son. You seem to have misinterpreted me, but no matter," Janus shrugged. The woman looked between the two worriedly, as the consideration that the two somehow knew each other moreso than either was initially willing to disclose came to mind. Still, she knew Mathras was on her side, and she stayed put before the scythe-wielder. Janus twisted his wrist, spinning the weapon in a furious circle before himself. The leader glared and jerked forward, but immediately hesitated.

"Hah!" Janus yelled out as his hand suddenly gained a burst of speed. A quick screech rang in the walls of the train as it was severed at the center, a molten cut lining the floor, ceiling, and walls. The momentum the entire car carried held the pieces together for a few seconds until the piece Janus stood upon began to slow down, falling back from the rest of the car. He gave an exaggerated bow to the two as he drifted away. Mathras decided to give him a parting gift, so he pulled his arms back for a brief moment. Red motes of energy gathered in his hands as he focused his will, then a ball of energy bolted out of his outstretched hands at Janus' car.

Janus took a step back and rose his weapon, believing Mathras to have been targetting him. When the bolt struck one of the jagged and bent underside parts of the train, he looked below and laughed loud enough to hear over the rushing wind.

"You missed, dude!" he taunted as he lowered his scythe.

Mathras crouched down and tilted his head to see where the bolt struck, which should've left some burning marks on the underside of the train if it struck right, "Not if trains work the way I think they're supposed to..." he mumbled, waiting for some sign that the shot had any effect. Smack. Screech. Sparks. It had occured in that order as the front half of the decelerating piece of the car struck the rails below. The wheels had suddenly shifted from their appropriate rails and started running along the dirt below, throwing up debris from the sides. The metal undercarriage tore along the rails, vibrating the entire car, and Janus stumbled around to catch his footing. Though heavily disrupted, the dismembered car and the cars behind it slowed to a halt in but a few seconds, and were lost in the distance as Mathras and the woman continued on.

Mathras watched as metal scraps were twisted up and spit out along the sides of the railway, and then he briefly asked himself, "Why... why did I just do that?" As he continued to watch the mess unfold, however, he remembered that it was basically to flip off Janus. It looked like it worked.

"Well..." Mathras sighed exasperatedly and turned to the woman looking expectant, "I think an explanation as to who the hell that man is is in order. Mind informing me why you came after him and why he decided to off your entire squad?"

The woman straightened her combative stature and sheathed her weapon her with a grimace. She didn't intend for him to get away, at least, not in one piece. The train he was on derailed and slowed down in the middle of nowhere, but knowing him he'd find some way to get back to civilization. Even she didn't know what was out there; a few small villages to rest at wouldn't be unlikely. She opened her mouth to respond, sitting herself down with a sigh at the same time.

"He is Death God Ja--"

Mathras' expectant look turned to surprise and anger as he immediately shouted, "What?! God damn it!" In a sudden fit of rage, Mathras turned his anger into another ball of red energy and flung it over hand as hard as he could in the general direction of the train he derailed, hoping maybe it'd find it's mark. He couldn't believe he'd just let a Death God get out of his grasp when he possibly could easily have ended his life... easily enough, anyway-- the man snored like a beast.

He pinched the bridge of his nose briefly while he composed himself again before he nodded and turned to the woman, "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

She looked a bit stunned, blinking thrice before speaking up. "Death God Janus. He killed a pastor who was very close to me and my family. Luckily, though I was in a different city, he was discovered boarding the train headed east, and I went to intercept him. But..." she trailed off and looked to the open wound of the train.

Mathras frowned, "But then he eviscerated your men," he added, "And he almost obliterated you and sent you right off the train, but instead... well," Mathras peered into the distance at the derailed train's diminishing figure, and a small red explosion was seen somewhere nearby it, "He's now out in the middle of nowhere."

"Yes," she reluctantly confirmed, "He will surely head east, as that was his apparent original intention. I only hope he does not harm any others along the way, nor gets killed by something or someone other than myself," her voice turned sour towards the end, and her eyebrows lowered in anger. She seemed to be thinking something as she looked to the floor, but her fierce expression vanished within moments. "I thank you for your help, even if..." she trailed off once again.

Ciardha wouldn't be looking for him with Death Gods after her. He had a bit of freedom to go and do what he wished for now, now that the thought of her constantly harassing and chasing him down was gone. First time in twenty years. Needless to say, he felt a little relaxed and relieved to know that not all the Death Gods were as huge as Zank and Vrakken, but now he knew that they needed rest like any other mortal man... why was this not public knowledge?

Now that there was another Death God to attract his ire and something else to hate, Mathras strangely felt obligated to finish what he started. He stepped up to the woman and was about to reach out with an open hand, but instead his hand just hung there for a few moments before he closed his fingers and let it fall back to his side.

"Even if he's not actually dead? Yeah, actually..." Mathras thought long and hard about what he was about to say (which consisted all of about five seconds) before he ended up saying, "I'm on good terms with House Ollerus." The lady looked up into his eyes, searching for any memory she had of Mathras, but then again, she didn't know and meet all there were that had interacted with her family.

"I suppose I could..." Mathras shifted his eyes about as he searched for the words, "What's the phrase I'm looking for...? Right, I could 'join your cause'. The man is a bastard and deserves every horrible thing he has coming to him."

"Your magic was interesting, certainly, but do you believe you have the ability to stand up to a Death God?" she questioned him, sounding quite doubtful.

Mathras pointed in the direction of the derailed train and said, "That's not proof?" His hand dropped to his side as he continued, "Lady... uh..." he hoped she would give her name so he could go on.

"Malian Ollerus," she plainly introduced herself, "And it is proof you can strike a large target that is already vulnerable. A Death God is quite different than a train," Malian stood up, "But I will hold my opinions until I see you properly combat another individual."

"Right," Mathras responded sarcastically at first, then spoke seriously, "Actually I was hoping the train would derail violently enough to collapse on him but... I wasn't that lucky. Half of being a magister is subterfuge, deception, and trickery; I wouldn't have survived a clan of vampires hunting me for the past twenty years if I wasn't a competent magister."

"Fair enough," she acknowledged, shrugging ever so slightly, "I'll admit you seem to be a cut above the rest.

Mathras smirked and failed to hold back a snicker-- a cut above was a bit of an understatement if one were to consider the crap he dealt with and lived through but a few days ago. Just then, he made a quick gasp as he was suddenly reminded of a wonderous little resource he had at his disposal...

"That's right!" Mathras exclaimed, then looked down at the necklace, "Elge, can you track Janus' whereabouts?"

"I'll do my best," Elge responded cheerfully, and Mathras grinned in response. Malian looked at Mathras' necklace with wonder, curious but not completely clueless as to what it was.

"Who is that?" she asked.

Mathras' eyes slowly shifted up to Malian. He gave her an almost proud smile and replied, "A wonderful forest spirit that I met the other day."

"You surprise me more and more," Malian smiled.

"Surprise, m'lady," Mathras explained with a grin, "Is a grand key to survival," He stared off in the distance to the wreckage that was soon to disappear over the horizon, "Even against your worst enemies..."