Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Spiritzer
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Spiritzer 魂の花火

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The Arena, Before dusk in Alvion, Thunderstorm


@Spiffy

The thunderstorm had made the field opaque, face splashed with the salted rain, seeing even a few feet in front of Cicero himself was nigh implausible. Even the crowds only had the clash of metal to foretell anything about the duel...

The blow struck true, metal chewed through soft unprotected flesh and bit bone before it was shunted off to the side with an axe. Even though Cicero's grip on his sword loosened - for the first time in this match, blood was drawn. It was far from a deciding move but first blood is one of the most impactful way to show skill in the arena. It was a shame that the crowd did not see it, even the most seasoned gladiator would still feel a certain warmth when they cheered - only the pitter patter of heavy rain and hushed whispers reached his ears.

His enemy, on the other hand, felt slighted. Not just physically, even if blood and rain painted his shoulders like a tilted wine barrel. He screamed, pain and insult, his paranoia showing for the crowds to stop cheering Cicero on. But they weren't. In this 'rage', Rhakkast felt like his eyes would pop as his infernal blood swelled, he literally saw red.

...and as if the heavens themselves played to the tune of battle. Lightning flashed across the horizon in the ensuing deluge, Rhakkast wailed as he hammered on Cicero with his axes giving no chance for Cicero to strike back or move lest he was willing expose himself to this frenzied attack.

The knight could feel the sheer intensity of each strike through his shield, alongside with the now slippery floor, his injuries, the deafening ring of metal against metal ...just how long could he hold out?


Then suddenly as another series lightning flashes blinded him, Cicero felt a tug in his right palm and when he looked,

.......his sword was no longer there.



@Cyrania

In a distance beyond the bitter steam that was pouring out of her waterskin, the flashes of lightning highlighted Therian's silhouette to her:

Him sitting on his makeshift throne.

Him almost standing up.

Him rolling over with a long object struck through him.

Him falling over the edge and a loud sickening thud.


Then, for the briefest of moments, she thought she saw the outline of a man where the rain would not touch right behind the throne. But before she could take a second glance, it was gone. The guardsmen beside him did not even realize Therian was gone until a few moments too late from wiping their brow profusely, then someone shouted.

"The king ...! Thhat's Cicero ...his sword ...him! HE'S DEAD!! He killed him!"



@Spiffy



Plunked right beside him, fallen off the stands, lay the lifeless corpse of their monarch. His eyes still open, his face showing a blank expression and Cicero's sword sticking out handle first from his stomach. A pool of dark liquid gathered where the king lay undignified.

Rhakkast was nowhere to be found, a quickly fading trail of blood led to the closing gate he came from...

A fluster of screams and shouts barraged the field, it was hard to tell what they were saying in the utter bedlam but no doubt a throng of soldiers would descend upon them in a matter of brief moments as the tolling horn was sounded.

"The Witch, She made the rain" "We saw it!"




No one seemed to notice but the air seemed to clear once Therian had fallen, the downpour slowly relented.

Crossbows from the two guardsmen turned to face where they thought Gwyneira's hand was outstretched holding the waterskin, winding and ready to fire the moment she left the safety of her tent, they would let the reinforcements handle Cicero who was too near the base of the wall they stood on to take proper aim at him.





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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Cyrania
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Cyrania

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Gwyneira Elfreda


"Rats,Rats,Rats! went through Gwyn's mind as the chaos started. Whelp, at least she knew that the rainwater wasn't drugged, even if it meant she'd need a new waterskin soon. Right now, she and Cicero needed to get out of here alive. Cool heads were definitely not on display in thinking that Cicero could throw his sword that accurately from the arena.

The rainfall had stopped. Gwyn could see clearer now. There were guards waiting to attack her the moment she left her ice shelter and probably more would come below for Cicero or would come later as reinforcements. She was not at full energy and was separated from Cicero, which was not a great place to be. That would need to be remedied first.

She set her destination in mind, down in the arena. Then she closed her eyes, lit up her light as a flash bang, and teleported down. Rather major headache, but she could push a little farther with a few lights and illusions. Hopefully, any major heals could wait till later. She spun around and darted towards Cicero, glad to see no new major injuries. "We need to get out of here. Now!" She said as she reached him. Then she drew out her rapier and had her wand in her left hand for increased spell focus while looking for what to do next.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Spiffy
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Spiffy Prince of Peace

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Cicero Bladewalker


Cicero looked in utter horror at the lifeless corpse of Alvion's king. The man who had knighted him. Who Cicero had sworn to serve until his death. Now, gone. As he stared, Cicero saw his own weapon sticking in him. His heart broke at the sight, but he was frozen in place. He could not move.. He faintly heard shouting in the distance, but did not hear any discernable words. That was until Gwyneira yelled out, "We need to get out of here. Now!"

That was all it took for Cicero to finally snap out of it. He nodded and retrieved his weapon from the former king. It slid out of him without much trouble, but Cicero felt like he had been the one who killed him. Emotions aside, they had to move!

Cicero jerked his head in the direction Rhakkar ran and followed as fast as his feet could carry him. He yelled to Gwyn, "He's apart of this thing, I know it!" His voice audibly shook in distress. Cicero may have not known the king well, but Cicero's alliegence lied with his corpse now. It was like a part of him had died.

Currently Rhakkar was the only one Cicero could perceive was connected with the monarchs death. He had to have gotten those weapons from the dark figure. They would discuss all that information at a less chaotic time..
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Spiritzer
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Spiritzer 魂の花火

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The Arena, Before dusk in Alvion, Raining




@Cyrania@Spiffy

Having to run across the courtyard to reach where that bastard escaped meant exposing himself to the archers up above, in his single minded pursuit of his foe, Cicero forgot how slow the strain from his fight with Joshua made him, as a duo of arrows flung themselves at him! One glancing his plated legs, the other catching him in the soft part of his greaves.

...because of that the gate slammed shut just moments out of reach, whoever opened them for the barbarian wasn't keen on letting his pursuers through either.

Stuck out in the open, it was only moments before the first squad of soldiers were upon them. The archers above were already winding their second volley. Things seemed bleak ...then suddenly!

"I will SMITE THEE in the name of my liege!"

A large, metal clad mountain joined the throng of soldiers from a blindside. Raising his weapon haphazardly as he waddled through the crowd in an almost confuzzled manner, shouting at Gwyneira and Cicero. His boisterous demeanour barely matched his effectiveness, as the soldiers could barely push past the crowds quickly already, now they had to deal with this oaf of a contender right smack in between the two contradicting lines of panicked people and guardsmen.

'MOVE ASIDE, FOOL!' 'GET OUT OF THE LINE!'

"You will PAY FOR THIS, TRAITORS!!!"

Olberion yelled again, shaking his fist till a guard actually speared firmly at his palm as a stern warning to the witless gladiator to move out of the way. To which he could not help but grasp his hand and slowly shuffle aside.





The antics of Olberion the Unbent bought them time, unintentional or not, his crass zealotry had made an obstacle out of the only apparent open entrance out of the arena. They had another minute or so more,

These gates could be opened from the inside, the portcullis could be lifted if someone manned the levered wheel on the other side. But getting to that side was going to be a problem. Gwyneira felt her wakefulness ebb like a drained tub after her last spell, she had cast one too many spells today and that would likely have had to be her last one.


That one particular gate was made to with hold monsters sometimes used in partcularly 'festive' fights that were led in from some pen area, it would be extremely difficult for them to lift it forcefully unless they had an individual with unseeming strength with them.

As Cicero tried his hand at lifting the gate to gauge how heavy it was, someone called at him from the side.

"Hey! Here!"

A male's strained and raspy voice echoed from the darkness, trying not to be loud enough to alert the guards to his pressence. It was from another gate not too far to their side, this one unlike the one they had intended to go through where it, seemed to lead into some tunnels that Cicero had never seen opened before. But seeing how the water from the rain still flowed along the floor in it's direction, it likely led to somewhere the water could escape ...maybe even them.


Rusted chains scream against the stress after being in disuse for so long. Both of them could make out the shadow of a single familiar hooded figure carrying a backpack, turning the wheel by hand.

These other grates slowly lifted off the ground, making enough room for them to duck under if they wanted to. Would they trust this unexpected opportunity? Or would they find another way? Maybe even stand and fight for their innocence?





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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Cyrania
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Cyrania

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Cicero Bladewalker, Gwyneria Elfreda, & Mysterious Savior


Cicero glanced at Gwyn quickly before he made his choice. His leg bled again which left them without many options. He went prone and rolled under the steel grate as he reached for Gwyn to do the same.

Gwyn nodded in Cicero’s direction and hurried after him under the grate. She could feel herself drooping off even as she did so, showing that she’d misjudged her reserves again and this was as good of an escape as they were likely to get.

The floor slightly sloped downwards as they entered underneath. There was water which flowed by a miniature stream. The air smelled bitter in this damp, dark place.

The man let the two slip past the spikes of the portcullis before closing it, the metal slammed heavily into the floor as the wheel spun back on it's own.

Immediately he started kicking the handles forcefully and when they bent a few hard strikes of his boot later, he growled and yanked one of the bars free. He shot a glare at Gwyneira, though it did not seem malicious - just angry, at nothing.

Then, moving ahead of them both, he jammed the iron bar into a lock-slot of an iron door to the right of the walls. It must have been how he got in here, that was one of the access doors, now barred from intruders. The wheel lever, broken as well.

"...excuse me." He said, looking at the floor as he pushed past Cicero.

Without any further ceremony, he threw a handful of spiked metal from a satchel in his vest onto the ground. Caltrops! Mean little traps that rupture the feet of all who step on them, the craft of less savoury characters.

"Watch your step."

Whoever this was, from the way he worked through every precaution without hesitation, his expression of emotionlessness, they could see it was not his first time.

The walls were slick with verdant moss and where the sun did not touch, lichen and mold. Still, having to lean on them was a necessity as they made their way quickly down the narrow tunnels. Their benefactor in front leading the way, no light to guide them that even he had to rely on being dirtily guided by the walls.

Gwyn stumbled along, her eyes blinking rapidly in a desperate attempt to stay awake. She wished that she had enough energy to cast a light or even heal Cicero’s new leg wound right now and cursed her waste of magic in that ice canopy to protect against what had turned out to be ordinary rain. If their guide hadn’t shown up, death would have been the most probable ending. She was pretty sure the guy had been Cicero’s visitor earlier from the voice and his hood, but couldn’t know for certain with how gosh darned tired she was. Still, he was owed some thanks unless he turned out to be Cicero’s sorcerer that he’d talked about before.

”Sir,” She softly called, being careful not to make too much noise in case others were listening for them. “Thank you for helping us out there. I’m not sure we would have escaped without you.”

"I- ..." He paused, looking over his shoulder at her direction for the briefest of moments when she spoke, then turning back, "...we're not out yet." His voice wavered with a degree of uncertainty.

Cicero followed the two as best he could. Despite the slippery surfaces he managed to stay afoot evading the caltrops. However, his eyes were not adjusting properly to the darkness. Cicero could barely see in front of him. His mind raced as to the latest turn of events. The king was slain and everyone believed it was by his hand! By some miracle he had managed to kill him during single combat. It was utterly ridiculous. Cicero's heart weighed heavily as he proceeded through the tunnels. Despised and rejected by his own people. He would get whoever was at fault. They would be brought to justice.

As they descended further a handful of long minutes in, the air became uncomfortably damp and musty. They could only hear the splashing of the stream in between their feet and their own footsteps. It quickly got too dark to see, even for elven eyes, swinging his backpack in front of him, he dug for a small stick with cloth wrapped around it and a thumb sized device, pressing the block into the fibres - it glowed red hot.

Firelight flooded the once dark man-made caverns...

It was then they heard a loud crash echo through the tunnels! Again and again. The groan of abused metal followed. Someone cussed loudly in pain. The sounds prompted him to heft his backpack, taking longer strides forward with torch in hand now, almost breaking into a run ahead of them.

”Put up anything to slow them down. That trick." He hushed his suggestion in a hurried 'DO-IT-NOW' kind of fashion.

Cicero whispered back, ”Gwyn can't cast anything. She is at her limit. We have to find another way.” He looked at his companion and around for a way to use the stream against their followers. How would they lose their pursuers? Then the thought hit him. The vial. ”Gwyn! In my bag there's an orange vial. Drink it now!” Cicero whispered as loudly as he could so that she could he at the urgency and at the same time not alert their pursuers.

Gwyn raised her eyebrow, but opened Cicero’s pack and took out the vial, wondering why this would help. As she opened it, the smell overwhelmed her senses, but she forced herself to drink it in spite of it. The instant she swallowed the sip, her tired mind shocked itself awake. The world was suddenly a song, thrumming with power and life, like the first moments of her awakened magic when she danced to the songs of her ribbons of light. She felt like lighting would spring from her fingertips and smite the pursuers to gleeful laughter, but she forcibly held herself back. Why was it so hard to keep a clear head? Was this like being drunk? Instead, she smirked as she caused a large portion of the stream behind them to become clear ice, perfect for slipping on. That would slow the guards down. She then turned around to the others and said, ”Let’s go!” Then she ran ahead.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Spiritzer
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Spiritzer 魂の花火

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Damp Tunnels, Alvion Underground, Light Rain above




Gwyneira tried pushing past their guide, causing him to grimace as he had to drop his backpack and press his back against the wall. Clearly very uncomfortable with any possibility of physical contact with her, even if he could have remained an obstacle.

"T'was Inspired."

The hooded man commended to Cicero's moment of wit, watching the overactive elf prance off ahead with the elixir running through her system. He seemed less anxious now, ironically.

"But ..."

Ah. Something to worry about later... He hugged his bag and carefully slid down the partially frozen stream till his feet touched moist, unfrozen stone.

...smell blood.

He glanced backwards,

"You CAN still walk ...right?"

He asked if only out of courtesy, since Cicero's healer ran off like a lunatic, not that he would stop for anything less than the knight falling unconcious. That would be a problem.






Soon...

The flow poured eventually into a small waterfall of stone not far ahead, it was not tall by any means, save to halflings, and cold easily be hopped down from - even as the current ran. Then turning sharply to the right, the tunnel they were in joined a larger main waterway that gushed loudly, plentifully with the rain from the rest of the city. At the end of the waterway not too far from here, they could see dim daylight blooming into the once umbral tunnels.

There...

....an ancient looking aqueduct stretched out from the edge like a thin road far above ground, it's surface unharassed by the flowing water as it's tip had long been broken off via some incident. Alvion's waterways just ended abruptly as it discharged off the cliff into a roaring river below, the thought of falling into it was ...nauseating. On the other side of them a good handful of yards away was another tunnel in another cliffside, it seemed the aqueduct once ferried water over there for some reason but no one has bothered to repair it even after it broke.

The antique structure seemed to hold it's own weight, but it was their only way to cross without tumbling into the raging waters below.

The frantic yelps of fallen guardsmen far behind were music to their ears, that stunt they pulled had caused the horde to trip over one another, something that was far less benign when the victims were thrown to a flooded floor, weighed down by their comrades carrying drawn weaponary.

But it was best not to ponder the guardsmens' causualities, they already had their own problems.

...
...
...

Without further ado, Their guide rubbed his soles on the driest spot he could find on the side, making sure there was no moisture to slip on before he leapt over the gap merely a few feet long. There was plenty of dry space to stand on.

Judging by the fresh rope dangling off a weathered stone and the grappling hook stubbed on farthest side, this was how he sneaked into the city, having climbed up the structure illegally - and likely where they would climb down if they got across.

Their new accquaintance waited to see what they would do with nervous breath, he was unused to working with others and he just wanted to leave as soon as possible - preferably before any guards saw any part of him, but then he was not going to leave them to their fate just yet either, so without begrudgement, he obliged himself to help them any way they asked as long as it was within reason.

They could leap the gap together and run across the 'bridge' to reach the other end as quickly as possible. Or do it carefully one by one, though taking more time than they would.

Cicero seemed in no condition to jump far, with his armour adding to the burden, but the gap seemed passably small enough if he threw himself over and someone caught him.

Gwyneira could easily make it, feeling light as a feather, ...maybe even lighter than said feather. To her right now, literally anything felt possible! ANYTHING!



@Cyrania @Spiffy
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Cyrania
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Cicero Bladewalker, Gwyneria Elfreda, & Mysterious Savior


Gwyn found herself in an area with dim light and a gap to jump across before she forced herself to stop. She could easily jump the gap, but what about Cicero. She had to control herself. Cicero had a wounded leg and would have trouble jumping across if she didn’t do something. So she waited for the other two to catch up, restraining the urge to leap across or do something. She paced, feeling a nervous pent-up energy rising within her. Cicero and the other man finally arrived and she went over to Cicero, grinning as she heard the thuds of falling guards. “Let me have a look at your leg. She declared.

In all the excitement, Cicero nearly forgot the pain from his slightly bleeding wound. It would be difficult at best to try and bridge the gap with his armor, gear and wound. Gwyn's heal was a much needed boon to the tired knight. Cicero removed his shield from his back to defend from the oncoming pursuers behind as he faced his leg toward Gwyn, ”Much appreciated.”

Their acquaintance watched them impatiently as she healed the knight's wounds with a spell, his glance darting back and forth between them and the cave behind them repeatedly,

”C'monnnn~”


He hushed, urgently to no one under his breath. Remembering to slide the torch on the floor, he put out the fire that would have made them obvious targets to shoot at. Popping something in his mouth to chew to keep his nerves down - it was not really helping the situation, but not really able to hold back either.

After a awhile, as the spell was nearly complete, he suddenly looked sideways in concentration, furrowing his brow,

"...they made it past your ice, th-they're running again!"


Looking back at them, the man was now gesturing for them to cross quickly. Going by the raised tone of his voice, he was NOT comfortable with any further hesitation.

The leg healed, Gwyn grinned then ran and leaped over the gap. After landing on the other side, she turned and waited for Cicero to come, prepared to catch him with an ice spell if he fell or the guards came.

Cicero watched as Gwyn leapt over the gap with ease. He restrapped his shield to his back. Then he backed up a few paces to get a good running start. His leg felt much better but his blood loss made it hard to stay focused. With all the energy within him he charged toward the ledge and jumped. Cicero landed without a problem. Breathing heavily he called out, ”Go!”
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Spiritzer
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Spiritzer 魂の花火

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The End of Chapter 0



CLICK HERE FIRST

There was a flash of light as fire zipped past them in a trail of smoke, a burning hand pointed inaccurately at them from within the darkness,

"Oh people of the flame,
of will ever brash,
Render those before me to dust,
finer than ash!"





Dishonor

"Go!"

He yelled then took it as far as his legs would take him, jumping over the gap then landing with a tumble, creaking armour and bones alike. The volley of flames glanced off the metal shell of his shield and splintered into a hundred fleeting embers.

As his feet plod against stone, it seemed so surreal that in the excitement, he almost felt like he had lost weight. Like he stayed in the air longer with every step. His mind raced to understand why,

...till he realized that Gwyneira and the stranger were slowly moving upwards - no, he was moving down!

The stone barely held it's own weight, one was pushing it, two was beyond it's limits and three, simply broke the aged stone mortar. With every of their step, the belly of the aqueduct showered a rain of sand into the river.

Cicero sunk just as Gwyneira too felt the floor give, she turned trying to reach for him as instinct and he, her. Their hands closed and fingers yearned contact but only for that moment, ...it was a second to late before the knight went plumetting backwards towards the depths.

As cicero fell, his gaze fell upwards only to see fire. Not from the magician guard earlier but from Alvion Tower itself, the towering monument that stood as a pride of the city engulfed in fire ...then he felt water rush over his face,

...struggle as he might, there was no way he was swimming in that armour. His hands flailed, feet kicked but he never rose. Spending his last moments in silence, he closed his eyes and prepared himself for the worst.

Cold.

Out of nowhere, he felt cold. An absurd amount of it, even for a river, then he could not move his legs anymore. Things got brighter instead of darker ...what was happening?

It was when his head first touched the air, he gasped the loudest he ever had in his life, consuming a good gulp of river along it.

There was ice. Ice on him, ice around him. Then he noticed Gwyneira's limp form, a blue mist trailing her fingers and it hit him what took place.

...he prayed for the current to sweep her near him and they were merciful enough to do so, immediately he reached out to grab her and plop her head on his shoulders as they washed down the river.

Trying his best to fight off the splashing water as he did so but even as the guards were no longer in sight, the cold from the spell's embrace still caught him prisoner,

...in eventual slumber.

As he helplessly watched the lights of Alvion turn the very heavens an orange hue. I must reclaim my honor.




Misfortune

Gwyneira turned around when she no longer heard the clank of his armour, only to see him fall. Reaching out to only grasp nothing.

But she remembered, though her hands could not reach - her soul still could. Immediately, even as she too fell, shutting out the world - she reached her conciousness into the watery depths till she felt a familiar pressence. There, she knew it had to be him. She caressed the armour, like she once did Zviad, wrapping herself around it then opened her eyes. Her soul froze as she had wanted it. She moved no longer, bound by her own mind. The water followed suit and turned to ice.

A spell wrought from an almost intuitive form of magic, it was sorcery now and no longer wizardry. Sorcery took the most out of even the most seasoned magicians and she was no such someone. She felt her vision ebb, memories of the past tempting her to close her eyes. Like a satin fabric layered over her darkening vision.

But in her final waking moments, she saw cicero's helmetted face pop out of the water and with that, she gladly lapsed into unconciousness.

Maybe one good thing came out of this afterall ...




Regret.

He desperately clung to a single brick, fingers digging deep into it's crevices in one hand. The other, wrapped them tightly around the strap of his bag.

He tried pulling himself and his bag up, cursing the moment he turned back to help them as he did so, all these months he should have realized his conscience had but been a burden and today ...today, his life hung by a thread for it.

The rock wobbled with his shifting weight, his horrified stare shot to the waters below. They had fallen, he could not catch them. Was this all for naught? Now his belongings weighed him down, try as he might he still could not let go even if his mind screamed to do so, he WOULD NOT let go. It meant too much to him, it was all he had but was it all ...more than his own ...life?

No ...no, it was not, ---just as his fingers loosened their grasp on his bag, he found himself bewildered by a strange sensation, the brick he held was no longer attached to anything and in a second,

The wind blew at his back.

His vision drew further from the skies.

A silent moment.

Then all was watery darkness...

...

What did I do to deserve this?





@Cyrania @Spiffy
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