Dax Bogart was a dashing adventurer. He had the sort of looks and swagger that one wouldn't question his title. No woman would mind being wrapped up in his arms, or placing a kiss on his perfectly formed lips. Or his chin even, he had a very good chin.

“So yea.” Dax said while holding a stein full of ale. “That's how I brought the necromancer of Griffin Tooth to justice.”

“Another happy ending to one of Dax's stories. Yaaaay!” Sitting across from Dax was a young woman named Gamella. Perhaps young enough to be called a girl. It was always difficult to tell with elves, as some of them took nearly a century to reach adulthood. Dax had saved her from a witch hunting expedition a while back. She certainly looked the part, wearing everything from the pointy black hat to the striped stockings. Gamella was harmless though, if a bit stupid. She would prattle on about visiting the stars, and the things that lived there. The right people might revere her as a deity, but the local populace thought her a cultist instead. Dax regularly checked in on her to make sure she wasn't in any more trouble. He had to move her a few times, as the locals were still very interested in burning her up.

“So, how are you settling in to your new home?”

“I like it a lot! The air is really fresh. But it can get lonely sometimes...” The witch pouted, but only for a moment. “But I'm working on a brew that will enable the animals to speak to me. Won't that be interesting?”

Dax chuckled nervously. “Eh, say, You don't talk about your family much. Is there a reason you don't live with them?”

“Kinda weird to hear that from a renown adventurer.” Gamella shrugged. “But I'm pretty sure I told you that while we all left for the stars, my ship malfunctioned and fell back to Ecetopia. It's not like I can make a far cry potion and contact them. They need to come back and look for me.” she hugged herself. “Provided they didn't leave me for dead.”

“Riiiight.” Dax never felt comfortable prying into the elf's past. What if all this “space travel” nonsense was just a way of covering up guilt or hardship. “Well, thank you for the brew. I should probably accept some quests so that I can afford some lodging.”

“Oh!” The witch chirped again. “I also wanted to tell you that I purchased an old arena.” She waved around a purchase slip. “I've got some people revamping it, but I'd love for you to stop by when it's done.”

“Awah?” Dax would have spit out his drink if it was still in his mouth. “I thought you just got settled in here? Do you think it's wise to make such a large purchase? What if the townspeople return? Where did the money come from!?”

The witch only laughed. “It's something I've always wanted to do, and I think it's far enough east that none of the witch hunters will ever find me.” She nodded. “It's going to be called Gamella's Gauntlet. I've got a lot of cool ideas for it, but I'd like you to be the first person to enter when it's done.”

“Oh well, I can't say no to that.” What was she thinking? Well, it didn't matter. It sounded like she had found some friends at least. That couldn't be a bad thing, could it?

“Yaaaaay!” The witch sprung to her feet. “Thanks for everything Dax. I hope you'll continue to visit me at the arena, if you happen to swing by.

“Oh of course!” Dax stumbled to his feet, leaving the stein on the ground. “Well, on that fireball, I'll see you later!”

“Bye bye!”

Perhaps not so far away, no more than half a day's walk by foot and far, far less by steed, there stood a frumpy man with a furled brow and a broad if not magnificent beard before a sign. There upon its wooden features, innumerable decrees found themselves plastered atop one another by nail, the most recent one - that which this both burly and portly fellow added - read simply;



Gruff as he was, arms folded across his chest, his demeanor was not so much leveled at the message as it was the fact it was written. Surely the king of the land, who ordered these nobles who honored fealty to him to place such signage, knew the peasant folk could not read, let alone travel anywhere quite that far. Just who in the world could this have been for? The notion of why never crossed the dwarf's mind as he slipped the workman's hammer back into his leather pack, it was none of his business, but there had to have been a better way. Of course, the gathering onlookers that slowly built a crowd began to murmur amongst themselves to what they thought it meant, but not before the man berated them for gossiping.

"If ye can'unt read it, it ain't for ye, so quit the likes of yer yapping."

"Then what's it for?" Another voice yelled, trying to blend into the crowd.

"'Tis for them folks that can!" His retort came as he slung the pack and faced them, of which were mostly men and a few women, all dressed in filthy earth tones and who should be going about their days rather than asking questions.

"But... it must be -"

"Ye, it be important alright, 'cause the nobles told me to tack it. Simple really, 'There shant be any travel'n outside the realm.' None of yer business, ya see? Now get." The stern man frowned waving them off with a flick of his hands in their direction, to which they started to disperse from on their own accord.

It was true, just as the bearded fellow claimed, that the message had no impact or value on their life. The sole reason this realm even existed at all was because of its magical aptitude in this day and age when, unbeknownst to all present barring the dwarf, the rest of the stars above seemed to be littered with countless forms of newfangled, complicated, fragile technology. The sort of things that break when a wizard unleashes a lightning bolt that goes rogue - not like mithral or adamantine, things the dwarf put his faith in. Magic wasn't his forte, something the bald yet bearded fellow could do, but not well. It was enough to keep him out of trouble and in good graces, as with this work, but there was still much to come from that.

Vaulthuz slammed into the ground with a thud. After several disoriented moments he gained his bearings and rose before inspecting the environment around him. It was dark, a cave. He slowly walked to the walls to his left and placed a bony hand on the stone, lightly clawing it at. This was not rock from his home, it was too soft. Had he finally done it? The necromancer turned to the portal he had came through to arrive at this place. It was a tear hovering several metres above the ground and seemed to be radiating a very dim light. Before Vaulthuz could truly appreciate his handiwork however, he heard a voice.

"Oi, is that you Vincent?" The voice called out, as it echoed around the cave a figure holding a torch came into view. He had a blade hanging from his belt and wore a set of poorly made leather armour.

"Are you working on that Scrying crystal or whatever you called it again? C'mon mate we asked you to tell us before you do any magical stuff inside the base" the voice said, the darkness had concealed Vaulthuz so far so the man seemed under the impression it was Vincent, whoever that was.

Vaulthuz leapt from the shadows onto the man , in surprise the man dropped his torch "What the-" before finishing his sentence the lycan bad launched a flurry of strikes on his face with his boney,clawed hands. He was dead in moments. Rising back to back to his full height, he moved in the direction the man had came from originally.

As Vaulthuz walked further down the dark passage; he began to hear more sounds, the crackling of fire, the sound of chatter. "....then Butch grabbed the guy and pushed the poor fella off a cliff! I'm sorry but I think that was really unnecessary, we was only robbing the guy not killing him. He got what he deserved when that hunter put an arrow through his throat." The owner of the voice stood up as Vaulthuz approached and looked down the passage "What the bloody hell is that thing! Lads, get your blades, somebody get Vincent" three bandits dotted around a small campfire in the centre of the large cavern rose, one of them ran down another passage shouting for the other bandit. The other two drew their blades and approached the necromancer "I don't know what the hell you are or who sent you, but we are gonna gut you and send you down the river in a box 'cuz we're the Watercave Bandits!" After his threat the first bandit charged the lycan. In response he released a blast of grey mist from his hand which sped towards his attacker. On impact the bandit screamed as his hair turned white, his skin wrinkled and he began to shake violently. Another blast and he was on the floor, his body rapidly decaying. The second bandit watched the corpse for a moment before looking back at the necromancer, he began to turn and run but another flurry of decay spells quickly caused him to join his friend on the floor. Vaulthuz allowed himself a brief moment to lean on his bone staff and view his handiwork, even decay magic was difficult to cast without his usual power reserves.

After several moments the third bandit appeared, this time he was accompanied by a fourth one, who Vaulthuz presumed was Vincent "Stand back, this is going to get ugly" he ordered his ally, who seemed more than happy to oblige. The necromancer's opponent was taller than the other bandits, he had long brown hair and had a wooden staff much like Valuthuz'. Just not made of bone,obviously. Vincent moved first, pointing his staff at Vaulthuz and releasing a torrent of flames from it. Vaulthuz moved to the left of the flame jet before firing a bolt of grey mist at his foe, who seemed to wipe it away with a hand shrouded in fire before returning another bolt of flame at his target. This time Vaulthuz caught the fireball in his own hands and crushed it in the grey mist the was now flowing from his hands, however be was growing tired, he would only last so much longer without his spells failing. The lycan charged the mage as he began channelling his next spell, knocking them both over before grabbing onto his opponents face with his clawed hand. The dark energy that held Vaulthuz together began to seep into Vincent's very soul and a battle of wills began. Initially Vaulthuz had control and he almost ripped his opponents soul away instantly,but the bandit mage was no fool. He quickly collected his wits and pushed back, leaving them in a stale mate for some time. Vaulthuz felt the last of his strength leaving him, in an attempt to distract the mage Vaulthuz kicked the man in the shin with his clawed feet. The distraction worked for a moment but that was all the necromancer needed, the dark energy latched onto Vincent's soul and ripped it out, momentarily being physically exposed as it left the mage's body and returned into Vaulthuz. The mage paled and the colour left his eyes as his heart stopped beating. Vaulthuz felt the power from his soul flow through him. This would sustain him for a time.

After several seconds the lycan turned to the last bandit, he was hugging the wall and his face was almost as pale as the now dead mage's face. He was little more than a boy, barely counting as a man. He would do for what Vaulthuz had planned next, but first he wanted some answers.

"Do as I ask,answer my questions and I will let you live. First, what is the name of this realm?" He roughly grabbed the bandit by the shoulders as he growled the question. He seemed stunned for several seconds as he tried to form words.

"E-ecetopia, ruled by the L-lord of Magic. Or so they say. Kings run the realm now." He spoke quickly and breathlessly, perhaps worried he was speaking too much for the beasts liking.

Vaulthuz nodded "Well I will slay this king and Lord of Magic and use their bones in a grand throne" he released the bandit, who seemed all too grateful as a slight trickle of blood began running down his shoulder.

"M-may I go, m-m'lord?" He asked, shuffling towards the entrance as he did.

"Yes. But tell any of your friends they will only find death in this cave from now on. Tell the local villages the same. Tell them that Vaulthuz the Bonemelder has arrived to conquer them! But first I must make sure they do not doubt my power" He sent a blast of grey magic at the young bandit, he cried out as his hair grew longer and his skin wrinkled. But he did not decay. The bandit looked at the lycan, then ran from the cave as fast as his now weak bones could carry him.

Over the next few minutes, Vaulthuz gathered the corpses into the large room with the camp fire. He inspected them for a few moments before proceeding They will make suitable servants for now. He moved in front of the four corpses and extended his bony hands over them and began muttering a variety of incantations under his breath, he could feel the energy flowing into his hands as he reached the end of the spell. After a few moments of silence , four small eerie purple orbs departed from his hands. They each entered a separate corpse through the mouth and began to work their magic. Their eyes opened and went a deep purple before they began twitching violently as the spell began preparing the bodies so they would not spontaneously combust at the moment of reanimation due to the sheer amount of energy being released into their body. It was not pretty when that happened.

After the minute or so that the corpses required to reanimate, Vaulthuz waved a dismissive hand at them and ordered them to guard the location from intruders. The necromancer himself sat on one of the boxes by the fire and stared into it, watching the embers burn as he began hatching his plans.

A shuffling form heads towards Vaulthuz's cave, sensing magic from within it.
A cloaked figure stands in the mouth of the cave, peering in. It's massive hunched form shuffles into the shelter of the cave. At almost 10 feet tall and well over 5 feet in width, the figure is massive, yet it moves in a manner much like that of a cripple. Shuffling forward it speaks in a low growl as it's orange and black striped tail brushes against the ground behind it
"Is dere someone here? I felt... powerrrrr..."
Dark yellow eyes peer out from under the figures hood.

------------------

The Woman sat at the bar, drinking from a large mug. She watches the bar with hazel eyes narrowed from under her horned helmet.
Her mouth is curled in a permanent frown as she eyes a burly man who has had too much to drink and has started to "flirt" with the server girls.
"Ah c'mon darlin!" shouts the drunk man. "Jus' a little kiss!"
The terrified serving girl, no older than 19, backs away holding her tray between herself and the drunk man as the man's friends laugh loudly.
"G'wan! Give 'im a snog!" shouts one
Most of the bar looks on uncomfortably on as the man backs the girl into a corner.
"No! Please sir! You've just had too much to drink! Leave me alone!" she cries
The drunk man grins stupidly.
"Arr, one ki- UGH!"
He grunts as the woman in the horned helmet and armor stands up and brings her mug smashing into his face. Drink slops onto the floor as the man falls over, clutching his jaw.
"Wot da! You bit- AGH!"
He hits the ground again as the woman's boot heel connects with his nose with a loud 'crack!'
"Stay down. I'll only say it once."
The woman speaks harshly, with a thick Nordic accent. She turns to the serving girl and speaks in a softer tone, yet one that holds great sway.
"Get out of here. I'll deal with this lot."
She turns to face the drunkard's friends as they stand up, drawing several knives.
"You'll pay fer what you did t'Jimmy!" shouts a thin, weedy looking man.
The woman snorts in derision and draws her own weapon. The men pale and begin to reconsider their choices as the woman draws a massive two-handed sword. Her tattooed hands tighten on the handle as she holds it ready and waits.
"Come on then. Let's get this over with." she snarls.
Two of the men advance cautiously but the third falls back, dropping his knife as he wets himself and runs out the tavern door, gales of laughter following him. Seeing their companion run only makes the other two men hesitate more, so the woman leaps into action.

She spins her sword in a blur, catching a empty chair and flicking at one of the men, bashing him in the head and stunning him.
She advances on the other man, who seeing his companions felled and run away, suddenly feels beyond help. He falls to his knees, dropping his knife, and looks up at the woman who stands before him.
"Oh please! Please don't 'urt me miss! I never meant no 'arm!" he begs
The woman sneers.
"Meant no harm? That's not what I saw. A decent man would tell his 'friend' to stop doing what your 'friend' did. You were prepared to watch him with that girl, I saw you laughing!"
"No please!" the man begs again, "I didn't mean it!"
He lowers his face to the floor, cowering and groveling before the woman.
"You did mean it," growls the woman "And you'll pay the same price he did"
A puddle grows around the man as he feels the edge of a blade against the back of his neck.
"No please... please!" he sobs.
"Huh. Nothing but a filthy coward." snarls the woman.
She seizes him by the hair and yanks him up as he yells in pain. She drags him over to a table and looks at him.
"Scum like you are what makes this land the hellhole it is."
She slams his face down against the table, shattering his nose. She then tosses a few coins to the stunned bartender as the crowd watches in awe.
"For the mess, and the drink."
The woman strides out of the bar and from outside, draws a cloak around herself and walks into the streets of the town

A flash of light bursts out of thin air as the alien Nebulius steps into view. He is an odd individual, especially considering where he just teleported into. Unlike the previous planet, which was filled with cold-metal buildings and techno-crafted scenery, this place looks much more primitive, rural in some places. Yet while it lacks in the technology district, it makes up for it with the burst in magical energy. The alien bishop indeed recognizes it, as he takes a deep breath of his surroundings while gripping his staff. He felt quite out of place in this realm physically, but both mentally and power-wise, this world seems to agree with him.

To the alien, the realm to him was brightly lit in white, signifying a world which seems to be going through a peaceful time. How long will this peace last, Nebulius does not know. He has encountered many alien civilizations during his excursion across the universe and they all rise and eventually fall through the ages. No Empire or Civilization will live forever, perhaps not even his own. The Quintilian Civilization has lived through a time of balance for centuries, but even it may fall down the line. Of course, it can be saved, along with the many other civilizations across the different worlds. "The Gorge" would've helped him balance the entire Universe so that good and evil will be balanced for eternity. It will be like a perfect utopia.

And he was so close into getting it... before he got bumped thousands, possibly millions, of light years away from the center of the universe, where "The Gorge" was located. Now here he is, popping from one planet to the other in an attempt to find a way to get back to the center. And by any means necessary.

As he considers his next move, Nebulius begins to travel down a less-crowded alley way. His appearance brings much awe to some, and much terror to some, as he walks from stone block to block. The primary race was human, but he also is able to pick out some humanoids who have pointy-ears and those who happen to be extremely short-statured for a human. They were rather interesting specimens, but not nearly as unique to what he has seen. Yet as the alien continues going deeper into the medieval town, the colors began to change from pure white to a shady grey, with black splotches of dark energy here and there. Nebulius knew too well that the light he saw during his entrance was too good to be true. It may be free of war, or at least it seems to be so, but the wretched hives of scum and individual villainy was too good to be true.

Yet it didn't matter to Nebulius. He wields the power of the light and dark, keeping both at a medium balance. While he internally wants peace and good to run the Universe, his God Ghilanthropi denies him of total good. Until he balances the Universe, he is to use light and dark and control equally, or else he will perish and be tortured in the afterlife. He will save lives to regulate light in check and he will kill to regulate the dark. For every necessary good deed, he must eventually replace it with evil. He did not choose this life, but it came to him anyways. "The Gorge" was his only way out of this curse.

Will he be even able to get there again? Perhaps unlikely. But Nebulius will try regardless. One teleportation at a time... and one planet at a time.

Just then he hears some commotion coming from within a tavern. Curiosity pulled him towards the building, yet he dared did not enter. The alien instead looked from a nearby window. As he watches, he sees a female warrior, lean and rugged, tussling with a burly human male. Nebulius couldn't hear what she was saying, but her aura speaks that of a light-grey color. She seemed to be a mostly good person at heart, though her techniques and possibly her attitude seemed to be more "harsh" than anticipated. Regardless, she overall seemed to be a good person.

Even though she threatened the man and seemingly shattered his nose in the process.

She then tosses a few coins at the bartender and begins leaving the building in a cloak. Nebulius believes that she may help him know where he is and isn't going to let that opportunity to waste. Not leaving the figure out of his sight, the alien attempts to communicate with her telepathically.

"Behind you, madam." a calm and emotionless, yet unthreatening voice asks as it echoes through the person's head.

Interaction with @lmpkio

As the woman leaves the bar she shakes her head and mutters "Fething asses...". She thinks back to a time a few weeks ago when she got involve in another fight that ended up with 2 men dead and unconsciously looks around, wary of any guards who might be on the lookout for her.
She starts walking down the street, not noticing the Alien nearby.

Suddenly she feels something enter her head and hears a voice. She immediately draws a massive Two-Handed sword with a jewel-encrusted pommel. The sword looks far more valuable than anything else she carries with her, it looks like the sword of a noble, where as she looks merely like a lowly merc.
She looks around, hazel eyes scanning from under her helmet. She spots the alien and her mouth curls in a snarl.
"Who the hell are you? What do you want?!" she growls at him. She holds her sword at the ready, but doesn't approach the strange figure.
She looks the Alien up and down, frowning and trying to think what he might be. She doesn't recognize his kind and that worries her as she doesn't know what he might want
If the Alien is able to read her mind with his telepathy it's a pretty dark place.

Nebulius was taken back as the woman began to unsheathe a massive sword from her side. It was a primitive weapon compared to what he wields, but the jewel-encrusted pommel makes the sword a bit more valuable. The woman growls aggressively, obviously surprised to see such a creature that is in front of her. A creature that is clearly not from this world. Clearly he has the chance to be able to strike at her, provided that Ghilthantropi's word was given. Yet thankfully for the warrior, it did not come today. He already did enough bad deeds back on the previous world. Deeds that he internally regrets.

"Pardon my intrusion, noble warrior." the alien replies calmly as his body movement calms to prove he isn't a threat, "I mean you no ill. It appears that I do not recognize where I am in the Universe. Would you be so kind as to provide me information of this world?"

Interaction with @lmpkio

Mergoux narrows her eyes at the being before her, not trusting him as far as she could throw him.
She doesn't lower her blade, keeping it pointed towards Nebulius.
"You're in Riverdale, a town in the land of Ecetopia. How can you be here without knowing where here is?" she says gruffly. "Now who the hell are you, and what are you doing here?"
Her mind is racing, still not sure he's not just trying to lower her guard then attack her, as she is very paranoid and suspicious woman.

On this beautiful planet, with its varied landscapes and ecosystems, there is a tiger on a mountain. With a confident swagger, a glorious white beast of power walks his territory. The air is refreshing and heavy with the moisture from the most recent rainfall. Nearby, water was happily rushing down the river banks, and crashing over the edge of the waterfall. His blue-ish grey eyes took it in, and he breathed the air. It was a good morning to be alive.

Eventually turning his attention from the waterfall, he made his way downhill. The swagger continues. To him, this was his castle. Sure, it was ruled by much more powerful humanoids that actually hold a title, but it's not like they ever come to visit. His castle, indeed.
And as he walked the well known paths of the area, his hips swayed and his paws hit the ground in a slow but steady rhythm.

Dun. Dun dun dun. dun dun dun. dun dun duuuuuuuh.

Ah, a song from the older days. It was certainly empowering, even if he was only hearing it inside his own mind.

Ahead was a rock jutting up and overlooking the valley. Not too far away, there was a small village of the elven kind. The song coninued.

Rising up! Back on the streeet! Did my time, took my chances. Went the diiiistance, now I'm back on my feet- Just a man and his will to surviveeee! So many times it happens too fast, you trade your passion for glory.

Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past!

You must fight just to keep them alive!

It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight! Rising up to the challenge of our rivaaaal. And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night, and he's watching us all with the eyeeeeee!

The tiger had climbed to the top of the rock and roared out to all those that could hear him. (of the tigerrrrr~)
They might have reacted more, if this act of pride wasn't common from him. But, you know, he never bothered village folk. Why would he? He might not hunt too well because of his coloring, but he can fish pretty damn good. And the idea of getting hunted down like a monster? Nah. That'd just be too stupid, even for him.

With his power trip done, Ryshock climbed back down from the jutting rock and contemplated what to do next. A refreshing swim or breakfast?

The woman tells Nebulius that he's in the town of Riverdale, in the land of Ecetopia. What a nice name for such a beautiful planet, even if there are shadows ridiculed in evil. But again, every single planet he's been through has such low-lying places. It's ultimately inescapable in one way or another. The woman repeats her question in a gruff voice, one more masculine than feminine. It might as well be time to answer her question before a fight can break out.

"I am simply a traveler." he explains as he points to the sky, "A traveler among the stars. I travel from one world to another in search of my home and fate has teleported me here to rest for some time. Nothing more, nothing less. If you want a name, than you can address me as Nebulius."

Interaction @lmpkio Nebulius Suprema

Mergoux frowns as she hears the man explain he is a traveler from the stars. She knows such things are nonsense, simply fairytails told to children, she remembers her mother telling her stories like that when she was a little girl.
She lowers her sword slightly, but not all the way and her body relaxes slightly.
She speaks, the suspicion from earlier replaced with sheer incredulity.
"Bullsh*t" she says. "Come from the stars? Traveling what? Planets? What the hell are you talking about? Sounds like children's stories"
She eyes Nebulius.
"Nebulius huh? Hmph. Fine, I'm Mergoux."
She lowers her sword finally, planting the tip in the dirt road and leaning on it with one arm.

Nebulius frowns slightly at Mergoux's response. Clearly this world's philosophy was much more primitive than he originally thought. After all, they still have buildings made of a primitive "brick" or stone, with carts being pulled by long-snouted animals. Clearly they didn't have fancy starships, technologically advanced material, or any of the like. But the world still seems to have a great excess in magic. Perhaps this world isn't so worthless at all. Yet the alien sighs in slight frustration.

"Give your civilization several more centuries and you will see that the world is much wider than you can fathom." he simply states.

At last, does the woman lowers her sword and introduces herself as Mergoux. An interesting name for the likes of Nebulius, but none of the less ordinary.

"Mergoux... fascinating." he states to himself, rubbing his chin. He then looks back to the tavern and remembers the woman's confrontation with that man. "It appears you've just dealt with someone inside. I suppose he was causing chaos inside, yes?"

INteraction with @Lmpkio (Nebulius Suprema)

Mergoux frowns skeptically
"Well then I'll just have to wait and see."

Her frown deepens
"Interesting? Hmph. Sure"
She glances back at the bar as her mouth twists in anger.
"A jackass was going to assault a girl, his friends just watched at laughed. I put a stop to it."
She sighs and says sadly
"Just another night in this sh*thole world we live in... I just try to stop those who make it so terrible. Doubt they learned their lesson, but at least their mugs got a little uglier."

Nebulius would still remain emotionless once he heard Mergoux's response, only muttering a "hmph", yet he smiles warm-heartedly on the inside. As cold and aggressive as she is, her aura remains true. She is for righteousness and perhaps a beacon of hope in this "shithole world". He remembered the time back on the previous world he was on, Ghithlantropi forcing him to oblige by the "Fali-Nol Oath" in starting an all out Civil War on that planet. One small action of rebelliousness, one small blame on a particular freedom fighter, and an all-out war arose. That one peaceful world will most likely crumble to the ground. Whether or not will it get back on its feet remains to be seen. He is thankful that his God allows him to be good on this world, at least for the time being.

He merely nodded at Mergoux response.

"You say that this world is utterly inadequate?" he asks rather curiously, before pausing for a second and signaling his hand, "Come. Let us converse while we walk towards your next destination. I would hate to keep you idle here for too long."

Interaction with @LMPKIO (Nebulius Suprema)

Mergoux watches the strange being carefully, still unsure whether to trust him or not. Finally she nods and slings her sword over her back, where it locks into it's specially designed sheath that allows it to be drawn while worn on the back. She folds her heavily tattooed arms and stares at Nebulius
"Inadequate? That's a understatement. Lord of Magic not been heard of for centuries. If you ask me, he left us to rot, and that's what happened."
She turns and starts walking towards the outskirts of town.
"Haven't got a destination in mind right now. Might walk for a while then set up camp. I probably just got myself blacklisted from every Inn in town by hurting those bastards" she says gruffly
She looks over her shoulder at Nebulius.
"Come along if you want to, but if we run into trouble you'd better be able to handle yourself, plenty of Bandits on the roads around here."
She continues walking out of town and down the road leading away from it and into the forest

A dull flash of deeply coloured, unpleasant light, and Kobasratha formed within Vaulthuz's cave. The monster was an impressive figure of a black like midnight, muscular and bare-chested, with cold, blue eyes, softly glowing. About as tall as a large human, but with antler-shaped horns over a foot long which made him even taller. He had a number of spikes along his back, and a tough hide like an animal's. There was nothing animalistic, though, about the cruel intelligence betrayed by his horrid movements, and the way he examined his surroundings. He exuded an intimidating, otherworldly aura that would encourage any sane person to stay away if at all possible. He was a demon.

He strode swiftly and purposefully towards the entrance, pausing only briefly to acknowledge Vaulthuz, the creator of the portal that had brought them both to Ecetopia. He inclined his head in a show of respect to his superior, but said nothing. He simply continued on his way, leaving the cave and arriving at what he would later learn was called Riverdale. It didn't take him long to get to work. All he needed was a body to inhabit, then someone stupid or desperate. The first came quickly, as such a thing was easy to find this late, and the second soon followed.

To be specific, that second thing was a drunk, stumbling out of a tavern with several bruises and a broken nose. All fresh, as well. Perfect.

"Looks painful." Said Kobasratha, in the body of a thirty-something, brown-haired man, commenting on the drunk's injuries. "Someone do that to you on purpose?"

"So what?" The drunk replied. "Yeah, they did."

"Well, I could hardly imagine you're particularly happy with them right now, could I? Sounds to me like a little revenge is in order."

The drunk began to laugh. "Now yer talkin'. Did yer have anythin' par- partic- particular, in mind?" He said, struggling with the polysybillic word.

The conversation carried on for a few minutes longer, and soon they had a contract written up. Essentially, Kobasratha would grant him the power to enact his revenge, and in return the drunk would use that power in aid of Kobasratha until the death of his soul, or his release from the contract. What Kobasratha didn't explain was in what way the power would manifest. Then, once the contract was signed, in blood, of course, the change began.

Claws. Scales. Wings. A hawk's eyes and a bloudhound's nose. The drunk was not human any more. He was not particularly powerful by the standards of creatures like him, but he was far superior to a typical human and a match for a capable one. He was the first demon to be born on Ecetopia.

He grinned, and flew off in the dark, in search of his prey. In search of Mergoux.

Nebulius wonders over who this 'Lord of Magic' person is. Apparently he's been gone for centuries, which for him is simply several decades. Perhaps he went on a quest of his own, to find something that could grant him his wildest dreams. Would it be for his own selfish desires? Or would it be for the greater good of the inhabitants of this land. This he wasn't certain. After all, for all he knew the Lord could be dead. He simply shakes his head.

"A shame if that's the case." Nebulius answers.

He's then invited by Mergurox to come along with her to the outskirts of town, warning him of bandits. Of course, to an alien with a staff of technological marvels of his time, combined with his little ole' magic, this did not threaten him at all. He simply knocks the butt of the staff to the ground several times.

"These 'bandits' won't concern me." he replies as he follows along.

Yet at the back of his mind, he senses something ominous nearby. It comes not from the female warrior, but something else abroad. However, he simply shrugs it off the best he can and continues walking, yet still having the thought sit on the back of his mind.

Interaction with @LMPKIO

Mergoux watches the alien as they walk.
"Hmph. You got that right. They've tried to substitute with minor lords, other nobles, but too many have their own agenda. They don't care about the little people, the low-born"
She seems to fume on that for a bit. Angry over the mistreatment of the more unfortunate peoples of the world.

She frowns at his confident response to her warnings about Bandits
"Confident are we? What makes you think you'll be able to take them on? You any good with your staff?"
She walks along still with him, exiting the city and heading North.

Interaction: @Pyromaniacwolf@Overlord Thraka

The grave lord walks along the dusty trail leading from a small mountain town deeper into the mountains with his followers and several fresh ghouls in tow. His vampires had fed, granting him 20 bodies to raise. The town will likely notice that several of their guardsmen and most of the town vagrants have disappeared, maybe even calling for aid from one of the nearby kingdoms if there where any witnesses. It didnt matter, their Vampire problem wont linger. Mortan needed to find a safe place to continue his research, he knew he was close to a perfect melding of bodies. Sure the Golem might be weak or small but if the bodies where fused properly it would mean any future attempt would be a great horror for this realm. He looked back observing his train of followers, the 4 heavily armored Fallen Paladin surrounding him, the 6 novice apprentices, and 20 ghouls all on foot. All his other ghouls where lost removing a pesky patrol from their trail, and the vampires were resting in an abandoned mineshaft until nightfall to follow.

He needed horses, The knights and apprentices could not keep this pace forever. Mortan and the Ghouls could, and more they didnt need to sleep or hide from the sun. The next village he encountered would have to be razed, for the bodies and the horses. It was ugly business as the kingdom would know where he was, again, and likely send a party to hunt him down, again. He had lost several apprentices because of their ambush. Hopefully the disapperances in the mountain town would be largely unnoticed by the local king, or whoever was in charge. Mortan had ignored the shifting tides of power so long he wasnt even sure who was the king, or what kingdom he was in. Not that it mattered he was something to be killed on sight wherever he went.

Mortan felt a twinge of magic near by, something very powerful like a rift must have been torn open or a greater summoning. Otherwise he probably wouldnt have noticed. He could't tell exactly where the magic was coming from but it was close, and it was familiar. "Fallen!" he said in a dry rasp "Fan out, magic is near, find it." The Knights dutifully fanned out looking for caves and hollows that could hide someone. The Ghouls also fanned out and surrounded the Necromancers protecting them as a simple wall of bodies. Before long one of the Knights noticed a hulking creature enter a cave, saying something about power. The Paladin was some distance away and quietly as he could returned to Mortan.

The paladin saluted and bowed his head "My lord, a creature has entered a cave near by, he appears to be following the same magic you felt."

"Very well, we shall investigate" says the Grave lord as he directed the mob of ghouls in the direction of the cave, The group quickly found itself in ranks with Ghouls in the front ready to absorb the first attack with the Fallen behind them, with Mortan and his necromancers in a rough mass behind the knights. The creature had moved deeper into the cave by the time Mortan had reached the mouth of the cave, blockading the whole enterance with a wall of animated corpes. "Tarz" said the Grave Lord, calling upon one of his apprentice "Go investigate, find who these magic users are." the apprentice nodded and walked through the blockade and into the cave, he conjured a small light with magic and proceeded, searching for the mage, and the hulking creature.

Nakreyya still wasn't sure where in the Gods' Great Names she was. She had arrived to this planet some several days ago through the nightmares of a sentient beast living in the wild. She'd made her way through a forest before finding a creek of fresh water that would do for her camp.

Some basic reconnaissance let her know that she was somewhat near to a township, and she was very close to a route commonly used by travelers. For the first few days she had camped further from the trail, but today she moved closer, setting up her tent, chair, and table. She arranged for her horse, Anzu, to have a place by the creek so he could drink if he needed - though she didn't need to tie him up. He seemed content to stay at her side of his own free will.

She had laid some basic hunting traps, one bearing fruit in the shape of a deer like creature similar to the ones she knew from back home. She had carved and blooded the beast, throwing the legs to Anzu uncooked, and setting the rest over a spit for herself. The spit was rigged to use the current of the creek to turn the rod, evenly cooking the beast over a long, low fire.

She would hunt a few more days before heading into town. She wanted to have local fauna to sell for whatever the local coinage was.

Once her tasks were complete, she bathed herself in the clean stream, and brushed her hair before sitting herself at her table to work. She was working on a handful of small mechanical birds to sell to the local town's children. Their reactions to the birds, and to her, would tell her much of what she needed to know. Two of the last places she'd visited were hostile toward elves, and a third had people who tried to burn her for using magic.

She sat at her table, her long ears attuned to any noises around her, and tinkered with the little wind up birds. They used no magic, and were easy enough to make. Working on them calmed her when she came to a new place.

She still wore her leather armor and daggers, as it was prudent to do so, but her hair was down and loose, softening her usually severe appearance. She also flipped the eyepatch over her right eye up and out of the way. The patch helped her depth perception, but was obnoxious when it came to fine detailed work. Any passerby folk would be able to see that her right eye had seemingly been carved out, and was replaced with a glass eye that was currently glowing with a faint violet mist.