It was dark, probably close to midnight, but that wasn't why it was so dark -- it was pitch black. The massive Driver was burrowing, and it took forever due to her massive body. But she needed safety, and caves and trees were not going to give her the safety that she needed. The start of the burrowing was far, far from her destination. This wasn't going to be a front door, it was going to be an escape tunnel... as she can't fit through the front door. So the further she went, the more she webbed up and clogged away behind her. A massive whole in a hill in the ground was behind her, but because of the webbing surrounding it, it would become latched on by leaves, branches, and other flora. It had taken time, and she was exhausted. But finally, she broke through into an underground crypt that she had discovered before. It's main room large enough for her to lay down and rest, take a breath, as she accompanied her Heart. The journey was so long, but it still wasn't over. And the trials had just began. She discovered a new way to create her Spiderettes. It would be even more tiring, but it was the best solution so far. And once the ball was rolling, she could truly take a breath, and even have a meal. Before she began anything, she shot her webs around the cold and dark place, hopefully for now any human or thing that saw these hard and massive webs would be steered away for at least a time. And then she breathed a deep breath, and entered her heart. It would take a long time for what she planned, but once it would be finished, everything would be grand, and she would be happy.

Frigid winds wailed outside, the sharp whistling like the shriek of a banshee. Within a tiny glacial cave waited Soros the warlock, along with a select few of his best minions that he had chosen to bring with him on this foray to the icy hell that was Kythnos. For hours the warlock had stood as a statue, almost as if he had frozen even underneath the many layers of thick fur clothing that he wore in place of his usual black robes. His demons, on the other hand, were restless. The grotesque, horned creatures paced back and forth through the confines of the tiny cave, clearly agitated yet unwilling to speak for fear of triggering their master's wrath. At last, one of them spoke out. "Master," the harsh cadence of its voice cutting through the winds, "if he hasn't returned yet, he won't be coming. With any luck they found and killed him, but what if they captured him? He knows where we are." From beneath a hooded cloak and behind a thick cloth mask to warm his face, Soros replied, "Patience. My son is not foolish enough to have been discovered." Silenced, the demon turned to skulk to the back of the cave. Then cried out the one watching the entrance, "I see him!" A few moments later and the creature arrived, both its wings beating and the light thud of its landing nearly silent. This scout was a demon as well, but of a different sort than those that were in the cave to guard the warlock. Whereas the bodyguards were roughly humanoid, albeit with horns, clawed hands, powerful forms, and teeth far too sharp, this flying demon was more like a gargoyle. Soros remained as still as before, betraying no emotion as the scout approached. "Father," it said, "they approach the pass. Three sleds, so heavy with goods that their reindeer can barely pull them. There is an ice witch guarding the caravan, just as expected." Soros gave a slight nod. His thoughtful silence was interrupted when the scout continued, "There are also eleven cultists guarding the caravan as well. Four with swords, three wi-" "They do not matter," he interrupted. Speaking to all of the five demons, "Kill the reindeer before they panic and escape with the sleds. Make sure that the guards do not harass me. The ice witch is mine." At last, the warlock moved. The band slowly moved into their positions, as they still had plenty of time. They stood on ledges overlooking a twisting, treacherous path below. The caravan would go around a sharp bend on the path, and before they would even have the chance to look up and see the ambush ahead, it would be too late. The demons would descend on the guards from above, while Soros rained fiery hell with his magic and caught the attention of the ice witch. After perhaps an hour of waiting, they heard the sleds coming. The plan was set in motion, and quickly came to fruition. The sheer simplicity of the ambush did not fail; it executed exactly as Soros had planned. Binding the ice witch proved more difficult than anticipated, as wresting control over that sort of demon was not something even a warlock as powerful as Soros had much experience with. Still, he had managed to magically enslave the demon in the end, and it had only managed to kill one of his minions in the process. Still, the warlock was somewhat curious as to what the caravan had been bringing back to the ice witches' grand city beneath the mountains of ice. Malak, the gargoyle demon, used his claws to open the crates in the sleds, one by one. Soros examined their contents; there was bread, pork, gold, jewels, silver. Things no doubt stolen when some cultists raided a farm or two in the kingdom of the Cypriots. None of it was worth the hassle of taking back to the Ashlands. One, two, three times Soros flicked his wrist. Three massive fireballs flew, one for each sled. The wooden things exploded, fiery rubble raining down. The warlock and his minions quickly chained up the paralyzed ice witch, for Soros was of the cautious sort and he always preferred his captives subdued both magically and physically. Then, they hurried out of the wretched wasteland that was Kythnos, before the ice witches sent a damned army after the ones that waylaid their caravan and abducted one of their sisters.

It was late afternoon, just when the first licks of orange were starting to flare up from the horizon to mark the coming sunset, when the Snatcher arrived at the town. It had been guided dually by smell and hunger, and after coming upon a scent-laden, trampled-dirt path through the plain, it had easily been able to trace the little village. Many of the men were just now coming in from the potato fields, and the Snatcher could smell their weariness. It hobbled toward the buildings, the concept of stealth completely alien to it, and it managed to within range before a nearby pair of chatting people, one a young farmer and the other his mother, noticed it. With all the ceremony of a scorpion stinging its prey, the Snatcher lined up its head with its target and released a series of taught muscles to let its literal flesh-hook fly. The vile blade lodged in the man's back, and he crumpled, stricken. The woman screamed and started to run, but the Snatcher was not interested in her. It simply reeled its prey in, sedate and utterly repugnant. When the villager realized that the Snatcher's only focus was on her son, she grabbed the spade his limp hand had dropped and rushed at the grotesque creature with wild, reckless wrath, alternating between weeping and shrieking. She swung once, smashing the spade onto the Snatcher's head, and the thing slumped to the ground like a sack of wet dirt. One of its hands still pawed at her, but she shook it off and pried the Snatcher's barb from her son's back, unfortunately but unavoidably spilling his blood. The young man was alive, but unable to stand, so she dragged him to his feet and held him up, walking back toward the safety of the town from the monstrosity that had almost severed the bond between them. Shtk Another cry as the mother felt the barb jam into her hip. Her body went into shock, falling limply backward, and without anything to support him the young farmer toppled as well. Slowly but surely, the tendon cord pulled her in, with her son still clinging to her in mute, until the grasping arms could transition the two into the Snatcher's ribcage prison. The beast started to walk away, plodding somewhat woozily due to the blow delivered to it, ignoring the angry and fearful shouts building in intensity behind it. Mother and son watched with bleary eyes as the village receded into the distance, praying with every thought they could muster that someone would come to save them—but nobody did. After realizing that, the pair could do nothing but wait while the Snatcher carried them all the way back to the Flesh Pit, where the bond between them would remain forever unbroken.

Emily slowly walked though the countryside, smiling softly to herself. After months, or even years in that icy demonic dimension, she could finally walk though lush grass and feel the sun on her face. If it wasn't for the two other presences in her head, and her own considerable energy pool, Emily could almost believe that everything from the destruction of her home world onwards was a terrible dream. But it wasn't. She knew that this place was special, she had felt it call out to her when she was breaking out of the now-incinerated realm of ice. However, snapping her out of her thought pattern/day-dream was one of her blanks, roughly five miles up the road. She could see the looming mountains in front of her, and felt something nestled in them. Some, strange but familiar power. Whatever it was, it was something that her Blanks couldn't deal with alone. So, she left the others to float south west and north for now as she headed east, towards the mountains and this strange beacon of power. She knew it wouldn't take her long, five miles was not a great distance to cover, and even if she was wrong and it turned out to be seven or eight, she would still be there in an hour or two.

The villagers gathered around the rift which had cracked its way along the main street of their village. Those who felt bold peered over the edge into the dark depths below. One young farmhand took a small stone and dropped it into the ravine, which swallowed it up soundlessly. After some time, one of the assembled villagers broke the nervous silence. "Well, how are we gonna fix this?" A few of the others scratched their heads. "How about we fill it up with rocks?" one of the villagers suggested. "Don't be daft! How could we get that many rocks?" the first one snapped. "We'd have to call the capital. They could fix it," another villager stated. "But what will we do till then?" a woman asked, "How can we use the road if there's a big hole in it?" There was a pause, until the town carpenter spoke up. "I could get some planks of wood and place them over the crack. Then we could walk over it." This seemed satisfactory to the townsfolk. They went off to help bring over the wood which would form a temporary platform over the rift, and assigned a message to the capital to the produce cart which would depart the next day. Being practical folk, they gave little thought to what may have caused this frightening rift to open up in the ground. [hr][/hr] As the Snatcher dragged its haul away from the village, it did not go unnoticed. The commotion was heard, and when another farmer who was out tending the fields saw what was going on he raised the alarm within the village. It was not long before a crowd had gathered near the point where the Snatcher had taken the mother and son. There was uncertainty among them until a man pushed his way to the front. "Where is my family?" he cried. The farmer who had witnessed the incident hesitated, before replying solemnly, "The beast took 'em." "What beast?" the man cried more desperately. "It was unlike any beast I've seen before. It was horrid, all fleshy, with many arms and two legs and a cage on its back and a spike it could throw. It grabbed both of them and walked off that way." The man pushed back tears and turned his emotions on the beast which had taken his family. "I'm going to hunt that, that monster down and get my family back and makes sure it never comes back here again. Who's with me?" He raised his fist in the air, but the people gathered around were hesitant, fearful of this strange beast. The man continued, "Until that thing is dead, we won't be safe in our own fields. Who wants to protect our village?" This raised a much more enthusiastic response, so they quickly prepared. Dusk was falling by the time they had assembled their hunting party. There were seven men in total- two armed with bows, three with scythes, one with a pitchfork, and the father taking the lead with a sword. They all carried torches to light their way through the dying light. Thus armed with what little weapons that were available in an agricultural village they proceeded after the Snatcher, heading in the direction it was last seen going, hoping to track it down to its lair. At their current pace, they would arrive at that lair roughly twenty minutes after the Snatcher.

Casseena gasped as she released from her Heart, swooning as her work was completed. A new appendage added to her body, and a new minion of her very own to command and control... but these critters were only the beginning as more ideas kept coming to her. Immediately she began producing more and more eggs. Within an hour she had produced a little over half a dozen. She couldn't make an army, no... not yet. If she did, they might end up leaving or starving. So once they hatched she would send them out to gather humans, constantly. She would need more than just a few. They feed on what they will capture, so some will have to be designated as food and the others as workers... hopefully? Until she has a stable food source... it might become tricky to keep them in line. Eventually it grew to nightfall outside and finally after so long the eggs hatched. Her first little spiders, ready to harvest. Little clicks and hisses from them noted they could communicate... but how intelligent were they, if at all? Casseena hissed back and they came to attention. She gave them their mission and they were eager. She sent her 8 spiders to stealthy grab 6 humans from the small town just outside the jungle. They were to stay at the edges of town and prefer to grab travelers. Not to dare enter into the town. Their presence was to try and make the jungle seem like some evil and scary place. While two were not capturing humans, they began putting webs all over the jungle around the crypt. Not covering the area, a patch of webbing here, a patch of webbing there... Their plan was for an intimidating position, not an aggressive one.

Emily's hike from the countryside to the mountains was uneventful. She could see a few scattered houses in the distance, but they where of no concern. This town in the mountain was. However, when she finally arrived there, she beheld an interesting sight. The city was practically barren of humans. Flesh and blood humans at any rate. What did march tirelessly though the streets where Golems. She had heard of them in her old world, but they where only stories. Constructs of ages past when a person would surrender all that they where for the defense of their kingdom. Such sacrifices where never forgotten, and that was why Emily had heard of Golems even though there hadn't been one in over a hundred years prior to her birth. The interesting thing about this place was that the spirits of humans, once could almost call them souls, where harbored inside the Golem casing. Emily wondered if she could use her powers and expertise to subjugate the Golems, and start a power base in this world so she could hunt down the other Keepers. With that in mind, she stood in the path of the first Golem to come near her, and placed her hand on it's chest. "Ashli Belendor" Surtr spoke though Emily's lips as her power flared in response to the command.

Some would call it paradox that a city where no living thing exists could be the most alive. Monolith was, however, a such a place. The city where dead spirits walked the earth in new forms, where the hard-working could live forever—where legends were real. In Monolith there was no such a concept as silence, for the days were filled with the ceaseless clamor of labor. Metals were mined from the earth, refined and reforged, and given new shape. Clay rose from the submerged Pearl District in clockwork dredges, to be sculpted and fired in various workshops. Crops rose from the earth, cane and wood and straw, and were processed for craft and sale. Despite the seeming monotony of it all, the city was abuzz with the chatter of its Workers. They talked, joked, complained, laughed, and cried just like humans, filling the winding brick streets with personality. To a stranger, however, Monolith wasn't nearly so wondrous. It gave off the air of an impregnable culture, one that could never be approached by an outsider, and the fact that it encompassed beings of stone, steel, clay, straw, and more rather than flesh and blood certainly helped to proliferate this image. Of course, if there was anyone who did not care overmuch about the lack of cordiality issuing forth from Monolith's inhabitants, it was Emily. Though she had been in the city for only a short time, unrestricted by the wide-open gates and undisturbed by any guards, she had received more than her fair share of looks. The looks held no curiosity or malice, since the Workers were blessed with only one face to call their own, but still the myriad of colored eyes looked upon her. Each Worker she passed committed her to memory, something alien and interesting in a city that never changed. “Hmm?” The Worker upon whose chest Emily laid her hand said. Its voice, decidedly female and with a strange accent, reverberated slightly as if fighting its way out through the air. Tiny sparks, the same color as its eyes, tumbled from beneath its faceplate as it spoke. “What are...? Oh.” The eyes shuddered suddenly, and the Worker stared with its motionless, slightly smiling face up into Emily's own. The girl stood a few inches taller than it, but the distance didn't stop the voice from penetrating her mind. Time seemed to slow down. As Emily's influence seeped closer to the golem's soul, its voice reached her, and only she could hear. “I feel strange. Are you causing this? Why?” The closer the soul of the Keeper and the soul of the Worker became in Emily's endeavor to control it, the more could be identified about the latter: it had existed in Monolith for almost two centuries, and had experienced a lot on that time. Beneath those memories, however, existed another layer which the Worker herself had no access to: those of her former life. Trying to take control of the golem itself was troublesome, for its spirit contrasted those of every other race on Cyprus. If Emily could delve deep into the Worker's psyche, however, and reach the part of its soul that was human, she could take it over.

Emily smiled as she heard the Golem's voice. It was an amazed smile, like a child learning something new and grand. She felt the memories, knew that while the golem didn't have the parts to speak, it was still sentient. She could feel that there was a part of the golem that would grant her control, but subjugation was not what Emily wanted. She wanted a much more peaceful route, much akin to how the spirits within her currently where still of their own free will. To force these golems under her own will would be a travesty. A small internal conflict erupted - which the Golem would be privy to - inside of Emily as the spirits debated about who would address the golem first. 'I should speak first! I am the Spirit King of Fire!' Surtr boomed, and was countered by the serene tones of the Mistress of Magma. 'The last person you spoke to fled in a panic before we could learn who it was or how they where in our head' She replied. Emily sighed softly and decided to take the advantage while those two where arguing. "I am Emily" She spoke, her mind a bit to crowded to speak from there. "I am hunting a group of....extremely powerful beings and my Blanks told me of something strange here in the mountain, so I came to investigate. I never thought I would find Golems. Back on my world they where only known because records where kept of every man or woman who had become one. So, when I got here and saw an entire town full of them, I thought that it would be a great powerbase to start hunting for the Keepers. But, I had no idea how to go about it. I don't demand subjegation, or subservience. I just want this town to be part of my spiritual network" she explained.

The golem listened passively as the spirits within Emily briefly argued. Though time had seemed to freeze for the pair, shutting out the entirety of existence except for the few cubic meters of air they occupied, the world moved along around them. Passing Workers regarded the odd pair, a young human with her hand pressed upon their fellow's chest, with looks of incredulity when their faced would allow it. None of them attempted to interrupt what was happening however; they flowed around the disturbance, like water around a stone. “I am Peridot,” the Worker responded after it was sure that Emily had finished communing with it. “The outside world is of little concern with us, but if there is anything that might pose danger to our city, you had best consult the Journeymen. They reside in the Sestet, a hall roughly halfway up the mountain. I do not know what it might take to join our 'spiritual network', as you put it, but if you remain in our city I feel obliged to tell you of our Blessings. Our noontide Blessings are glorious for the inhabitants of this city, as they invigorate us with the life-force necessary to sustain our existence, but for outsiders they might pose an inconvenience. Exposure to even a single Blessing will convert living tissue into mechanism. It begins with a part, like a forearm, an eye, or a hip, but repeated exposure to the holy magic will convert a living being entirely into a golem.” Time began to speed up. The general hubbub of Monolith again fell on the ears of Emily, and reverberated within Peridot's head. The Worker took a step back, and inclined its head slightly in a standard gesture of respect. It spoke normally now, with sparks spilling out from beneath its faceplate. “The next Blessing will wash over our city in...” It paused, looking down at its heartlight. The light came, then vanished, at an thoroughly unimpressive speed. “One hour. If you hurry, you may reach the Sestet and conclude your business with the Journeymen before the Blessing arrives. Travel far, Emily.” With that, Peridot started off to resume its labor.

Emily heard the woman's name, Peridot, and that the Journeymen where the apparent guardians of this place. The 'Sestet' was where they resided, and it was quite a distance from here. And a mechanical magic that would turn Emily into a golem if she hung around. 'Would that even affect you, being dead and all?' the Mistress of Magma asked, but before Emily could snap a reply, the city suddenly became loud again, and Peridot stepped back, informing them that it'd be an hour until this mecha-magic hit the city. 'I guess you need a new trick of mine then' Surtr put in, as the golem walked away. 'Before you two start aruging again. Get off the path and I'll show you' he told Emily, who was in no mood for an argument, and moved off the path. Then, Surtr moved Emily's hands and magic blossomed from them, fire billowing out of her palms, but it was not a hot fire. It did not scorch the ground, but instead lifted Emily upwards. 'I am sure this will get us to these Journeymen in no time' Surtr laughed. Emily found the movement a bit unsteady, and a twitch would send her reeling off in the wrong direction, but eventually she managed to get enough control to start flying up the mountain to find these Journeymen. 'It drains magic pretty quickly, don't you think?' Emily asked, powering up the mountain. 'Aye, so don't be flying everywhere, just when you need to fly' Surtr replied.

Slowly the red liquid flowed, washing over the rubble that it came into contact with. The blood seeped into the cracks of a pile of rocks and hardened until it became as strong as the rock itself. Its magic laid dormant inside the stones for some time. Then, they shuddered. Their sudden movement shook the nearby gravel, causing a rustling that recoiled off the side of the abyss and echoed through the silent pit. When that whisper faded, another one came, from a different part of the cavern. Then another. Then half a dozen more. Everywhere the rocks twitched and shook as they came to life. The strange sounds found their way up to the rift above, where they would be faintly heard by any crossing the makeshift bridge. What were once mere piles of stone and rubble were now living creatures. The things let out a cacophony of shrill shrieks and cries, growing ever hungrier. The quicker ones soon took note of the fact that there were bats clinging to the ceiling of the caves, and quickly went about hunting what bats they could catch. The larger, heavier, and slower creatures had little luck catching bats. As night began to fall, they began to look upwards. Perhaps the townsfolk above, fearful of the noise, would try dropping some food or livestock into the pits below as sacrifice to satisfy whatever devils they believed in. That would be enough to satisfy the dozen or so creatures living below. If not, however, the devils of rock and blood would be forced ascend to find food on their own. Construct: 0/3

Deep below the surface of the jungle, a slight tremor began. Rocks started to heat, cracks forming in the stones, before a fiery explosion. A new dungeon keeper, by the name of Naoto, had materialized in the explosion. The rocks continued to heat up, breaking apart the ground above, and melting it away into thin air. More detail work around the walls, creating usable steps to travel upwards around the new pit created. On the surface, the rocks gathered together, creating a small stone-entrance, locked with heavy doors unopenable without the prior knowledge of it's workings... or brute force. Naoto slowly stood up, holding onto his sword for support. He grasped the air, clenching his fist as if to prove to anyone who might be watching his strength still holds. After looking around, and not seeing anyone nearby, help released his grasp of the air, and took better hold of his sword. He looked straight up, and saw the tiny bit of light shining through the doors above. He turned his head down towards the steps... and started his slow travels up them to reek havoc upon his first defenseless town. His goal... to gather his first few slaves resources, to return to the dungeon, and then create his Dungeon Heart.

As night came and the streets were quiet, the villagers did indeed hear faint, disturbing noises from the rift in their town. This unsettled them, but anyone who thought anything of it would have thought it anything more than wild animals. As such, the response of the concerned was to simply ensure their doors were locked and windows shuttered. Ideas of demons or appeasement sacrifices did not cross their minds, for the Reginaldus dynasty had driven out all so-called demons and devils and other such beasts. The Cypriots have over time learned not to put any faith in such lower beings, instead trusting in the Kingdom and the King for protection and provision of their needs. Additionally, most Cypriots held that the any dangerous beast, more dangerous than a wolf, only existed at the fringes of their kingdom, so they believed that they were quite safe. For now, at least.

Whereas most cities had a town hall or even a palace for the local ruler, Monolith had only the Sestet. Rather than a building, it was akin to an open-air temple. It was situated on a promontory that overlooked the entire Pearl District, and on its other side was a cliff of brick that extended upward. The Sestet was a series of concentric circles, each one higher and slightly smaller than the one before it, like a circular staircase. Spaced evenly on the fourth layer were six pedestal chairs that allowed whomever was seated in them to be at eye level with a person standing on the Sestet's innermost, highest dias. When Emily arrived, there were only two golems there, but these were unlike any that she had previously seen. Seven feet tall with proportions more like a human, the Travelers wore colored armor, and each had a tool. The first one, more slender and feminine with ivory-white armor over a body made of obsidian, had an elaborate crossbow strung across her shoulders. The other, also armored in white but with a form of clay, leaned on a pickaxe. At the outsider's approach, the two Travelers ceased their chat and turned to regard her with orange and icy-blue eyes. “Hello, foreigner, and welcome to Monolith,” the slender one greeted. “I am Elvilika, and this is Udo Koro Kai. We are two of the Journeymen. I expect you have come to the Sestet to converse with us all?” -=-=- Though the Snatcher had a head start, it left a rather obvious trail, and the angry mob made good time. When the raiding party from the village crested the edge of the excavation hit, they were nearly floored like the smell. Death, rot, disease—it was all there, mashed up into a hideous pong that threatened to sear their nosehairs. A mere stench was nothing compared to the horror of seeing the Heart, however. Most were struck dumb at the mere sight of the abomination of flesh. The two that weren't (a scythe-wielder and a pitchfork-bearer) began to flee, immediately convinced that they were in over their heads. The majority of the party, however, remained, staring at the Heart and the repulsive, fetid corpses that littered the pit, wondering how best to kill the monstrous thing until a hulking shape lumbered out from beneath it. The Progenitor glared upward with baleful white eyes and sclera the purple hue of dead veins. So unnerved were the villagers that those armed with bows opened fire, shooting shaft after shaft at both the Progenitor and the Heart. While by no means military-grade archers, the men managed to lodge the majority of their arrows in either one of the atrocities, but while they both rippled and flinched in response to the pain, they did not fall. Slowly, the Progenitor knelt, placing its hand on the Flesh upon which it stood. A chemical current radiated outward through the plague's veins, reaching the still forms of the Snatchers posing as carcasses around the pit. As one, the four of them lurched to their feet and spat their fleshhooks, only one of which actually managed to spear a villager. Two of them missed and one was deflected by the father's sword, but despite their heroism and hatred the remaining villagers could not help but falter as one of their number was dragged, screaming, into the pit. The father's eyes started to water as he realized that his chance at revenge would have to wait. “Run, run! We'll mark this spot and return later! Go!” As he fled, the father reached down and chopped off the hook of one of the Snatchers, which was retracting past him on the ground. A guttural grunt of pain from down in the pit gave him a hint of satisfaction, and he ran. More grim than usual was the Progenitor's twisted face. Sooner than it would have liked, the Flesh That Hates was under assault.

Emily landed from her flight rather hard, the force jarring her from foot to head. But, it was her first time ever flying, so it was lucky she didn't smash into the mountain. Of which, the view was highly impressive. The way it had been crafted made Emily - who was also partially a Geomancer - jealous as to who would have such ability. Even if she hosted Garmall, Spirit King of Earth, she could not make something so grand. 'Garmall is stubborn, he wouldn't make something like that even if he could' Surtr spoke in Emily's mind. But, her attention was required elsewhere, as two golems that stood far apart from the workers greeted her. "I greet you well, Elvilika and Udo Koro Kai. I was told to come here by Peridot, to inform you of a new threat that might be upon this world. A threat I came here on the heels of to eliminate" she told the two, bowing gracefully.

Six of them, there were. Once their stony hands at last got purchase on the edge of the ravine, they cautiously lifted themselves up into the middle of the town square. It had been a long and arduous climb even for them, with many twists and turns in the fissure before a sheer rock faces hundreds of feet high and without much to grip, but they managed it without falling. The six bloodstone horrors contemplated their surroundings. It was a cloudy midnight, and the streets were so dark one could barely make out the outline of the nearby buildings. Still, this was what the monsters were used to; they could see fine in the dark. The creatures prowled the empty town square, occasionally stepping off the cobblestones to leave strange footprints in the muddy ground. After some time, a boisterous duo of men came walking down one street, one of them holding a lantern. The drunken friends were merely taking a short walk from the nearby tavern back to their homes to retire for the night, but they did not make it. The one without a lantern was wrenched onto the ground and pulled into the shadows by some creature. The horrors were quick to silence him with a bite to the throat, but not before he screamed. His friend wheeled around, holding the lantern towards the scene. The man probably would have been better off without the light, for what it illuminated was terrifying. There were four...monsters gorging themselves the corpse. His knees began to shake, and he dropped the lantern. The shattering of glass startled the bloodstone horrors, and they let out their signature harsh shrieks. The man flew down the streets, running for his life. He heard the footsteps of the four monsters behind, gaining on him, but he did not see the other two that had moved to cut him off. The six made short work of the man, and dragged him to the edge of the ravine before dropping him in. Then, they climbed down themselves. When they arrived at the bottom, they found the telltale smatterings of blood everywhere; the man they dropped had made it to the bottom and burst like a grape, but there was no flesh left to eat. The six let out an angry growl, looking for the perpetrator. In the corner of the room sat the massive Construct, chewing on the bones as a cow chews grass. Meanwhile, Moggotheddon's slumber continued undisturbed. The scene above would be disturbing. One mangled body with several bites taken out of it, a broken lantern, strange footprints, and a trail of blood leading back to the fissure.

As Reginaldus watched the dreams of his citizens at night, he noticed a disturbance in two separate villages. The first was odd, but not immediately threatening. He discovered that an earthquake had opened a large fissure in the town, stretching deep into the earth. Seeing that they were going to send a messenger the next day, Reginaldus planned to anonymously ask the civil engineers how to fix a large earthquake-caused fissure so they would be more prepared. Anonymous tip-offs were Reginaldus's main way of acting on what he saw in the dreams, aside from the weekly meetings with the High Court. The fissure seemed to have unsettled the town, at a cursory glance it seemed to be quite natural if just unusual. The second village, however, was much more worrisome. Early in the night, it was the buzz of the town that a mother and son had been taken away by some strange beast and that a group of men had gone off after the beast. Probing the mind of the farmer who actually saw the event, he managed to deduce that this beast was some horrifying mangled combination of flesh and limbs, although the details were blurred by fear and horror. Then, later in the night, 6 more souls joined the people sleeping in the village, and these confirmed the fears that something was terribly wrong. They were the men who had gone out to hunt down the beast, and they found that there were more of them in a grotesque grotto of flesh and death, which was much too dangerous and horrible for them to fight on their own. Reginaldus woke immediately after getting all information he could. Something horrible had emerged near that village, inside his domain. Some vile thing was threatening the security of his kingdom. He would have to send a military patrol out to gauge the situation more accurately, and thus determine how to eliminate this threat. Reginaldus could not allow such threats to unravel his brilliantly organised kingdom.

Naoto stormed up to the top platform, sitting right before the doors leading into his dungeon. The door required a key... but not a physical key. A key of knowledge, two secret words that had to be known, but not said. Just by knowing these words could you open the doors. Of course, Naoto knew the magic words, as he had created the door himself. Kólasi̱ pórta, he thought to himself, feeling proud of his own invention. He walked up to the doors, and pressed onto them. They swung open with ease, as if they had too much oiling than they should. The doors continued swinging open, until they bounced back off the rough stone, and then closing themselves tightly after the bounce.

The keeper took in the surrounding area around him. He saw the thick grass, shying through the piles of leaves, scattered across the ground. The bushes, saplings, twigs, stones, and all the sort, lay on the ground everywhere the eye traveled. Trees stood tall above everything else, towering with pride filled with years of work to get them where they are now. Naoto smirked, hoping to be able to sit on his throne one day, with as much carefree pride the trees had before him. He sniffed the air with his chin held high, taking in the wet soggy moisture floating around like a mist. "It's time." he grinned, as he lowered his head to stare straight off into the distance, seeing the faint glow of a nearby village.

As Naoto reached the village, he took a few moments to take in his new surroundings. It appeared no one was out, as all the doors were barred. He moved through the town slowly, looking for any signs of life. His goal was to abduct a few slaves to work for him, to help him build his dungeon. But, there appeared to be no one left in town. A ghost town. He was almost willing to surrender, but he heard a sound come from a nearby window slamming shut. Naoto quickly turned to the source of the sound, and cast his eyes upon a small hut. He grinned as he walked towards it slowly. He looked at the door, and instantly knew there would be no luck in trying it. But, having heard the window just shut might mean another door might have yet to be locked on the house. Naoto crept around the side, finding a backdoor leading into a kitchen, and opened it with ease.

Upon entering the house, he was met instantly with the face of a young male child, staring up at his tall strong figure. Naoto walked slowly up to the child, and placed a hand on his shoulder with a smile. Another figure appeared after turning a corner in the house, being that possibly of the mother. "Duck!" she yelled with a gasp, stepping backwards in fear, though slowly as she does not wish to abandon her child. Another small figure came up, smaller than the young boy even, popping her head just around the mother's legs. She was probably only a few years old, but old enough to be able to run away and know when to scream. Though, that child did not look as frightened as the paralyzed boy. Lastly, another figure showed himself, coming from the front door area, revealing himself to be the father. He was unarmed, and took shock as he gazed upon Naoto. "L-let him go!" he stammered, making only one step forward before Naoto's sword sliced forward, and held still before the father's throat. "There there, no need to be hasty. There is a much cleaner version to this encounter, if you don't force me to drastic measures." Naoto grinned evilly, pulled his sword back and tightening his grip on the boy's shoulders.

The father looked over at the frightened mother, then down at the curious daughter, before turning back to the frozen son. Naoto then turned the boy to face his family, before shoving him into the father, forcing him to catch him. "Such young children for a couple your age. Wouldn't you have had an older son by now?" Naoto wondered to himself allowed. Just then, the two parents looked at each other, just as they noticed their young-adult son charging Naoto from behind with a sickle in hand. "Yaaaahhhhhh!" the boy screamed as he raised his weapon to bring it upon Naoto. Naoto simply sighed, turned on his feet, and caught the boy's hand before it could do any damage. "Drop it, before I do any damage, and then you're of no use to me." Naoto threatened. The boy instantly became subservient, dropping the sickle with fear in his eyes and and a drop in his shoulders. Naoto slid to the other side of the boy, shoving him into his father like he had the much younger boy.

The family now all huddled together, shaking in their night-clothing, their knees banging together, and their teeth almost chattering. Naoto stood there, thinking over the details of his next move. The family thought to themselves, about what was next to come. The father then gained some strength... just enough to speak... and inch forward a foot or two. "W-what... What is it you want from us?" he asked. Naoto simply ignored the man, even to the point of turning his back on him. Naoto hmm'ed inside his own head, until the last detail was thought. He turned back around, at a speed which frightened the father back again. "You are to follow me, with no yelling, no running, and no trickery. If any of you try another heroic attempt like your son... I will assure you, you will plead for death before I have even begun my torture." he said. The entire family nodded without hesitation, but didn't move. Naoto sighed, stepping out of the way, and pointing his sword back towards the door he had entered from. The family nodded again, and started their slow march through the door and to the outside world.

Naoto followed the family through the door banging his head on the board above the door, cracking it with little damage to himself, other than a slight headache in the near future. He mentally pushed the family around the house with a few slight gestures of his body, shepherding them into the street. He marched them back towards the gate entrance he had originally entered through, passing by only one man. That man held a torch in his hand, and stared at the demon marching along. Naoto raised two fingers with his free hand to his forehead, then saluted them into the air. The man simply dropped his torch onto the ground as the demon walked away with his five captives back into the jungle, disappearing into the darkness...

The two white-armored warriors looked at one another. “That sounds rather threatening,” Udo remarked needlessly. He stepped to the edge of the dias and looked out over the city. “Shall we...?”

“Yes, yes,” Elvilika cut in. “Enough with the drama. Time to call the others.” As one, the two Travelers approached seats on the Sestet. The instant they sat cross-legged on their pedestals and closed their eyes, energy began to radiate from their heartlights: orange and icy-blue, respectively. The Travelers slowly levitated into the air, like a heavy load with just enough balloons attached to depart it from the earth, and settled three centimeters above the surface. The energy that surrounded them leaked into the pedestals themselves, illuminating lines and patterns that hadn't been visible before. There was a bwoo sound as the energy siphoned by the pedestals suddenly shot skyward, exploding into a mixture of flare and firework far overhead.

The air next to Emily shimmered slightly, a shadow moving on the edge of her vision. Not two feet away from her, another Traveler appeared, a rather thin one armored in purple with a body of steel. As if unannounced, jarring teleportation were an everyday activity, he nodded cordially to Emily and ascended the Sestet to seat himself across from Elvilika. “Sister Marowit!” She called, seemingly aware despite her meditative posture. “Punctual, as always. Where's Sen-sen?”

Silently, Marowit placed herself on another pedestal, sending a black flare skyward. When she spoke, it was with the speed and vibrancy of a glacier—that is to say, both slow and toneless. “Sen-sen is incoming. He was not within the city.”

Kai spoke up next. “And Salvadore told be that he was going to be overseeing the Salvation for the morning. Certainly he is on his way.”

The ground began to reverberate slightly, rumbling and shaking not unlike the aftershock of an earthquake. It grew in volume and power until the nearby stone face ruptured, and out of the resulting tunnel came a broad-shouldered Traveler armored in green, with a body of rock and eyes the color of the sun. Sparing only a quick glance at Emily, Sen-sen lumbered to the pedestal between Marowit and Kai, where he took his place. Behind him, the tunnel had sealed itself up; clearly, that particular Journeyman had serious magical power over the earth.

Next, a Traveler armored in red appeared, whose eyes shone viridian green, causing the red soil of his body to glint. Almost simultaneously, a shape shot up past the edge of the Sestet area, propelled from a lower level of the city by a jet of water. This golem curiously wore wet cloth rather than armor, leaving much of its woven-grass body exposed. Its brown eyes shone from a face permanently molded in an expression of enthusiasm. “Hi there!” came a bubbly, girly voice in a strange accent. “Great day for a meetin'! Bloomin' shame to leave the Pearl District, though. We were just uncoverin' some fascinatin', uh...” She trailed off, knowing that the others would chide her for talking rather than doing. She practically bounced onto her seat, and with all six of the Journeymen assembled, she greeted the guest. “Aww, a human! What's it you want to chat about then? Serious business? If it lasts more than forty minutes or so, you might be in for a spot of bother. Not that becomin' one of us is bad or nothin', but it's not for everyone, you know? Not like swimmin'.”

In the silence that followed, Sen-sen's gravelly sigh was very audible. “Forgive Diver's impropriety,” he said in cavernous rumble. “It is rare that her manners accompany her out of the water. We are the Journeymen, the governing body of Monolith. What may we assist you with?”