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Etoile


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Etoile sighed in relief as the krovar was slaughtered, and limped up to the rest of them as they collected, wincing as she went. She felt a distinct wetness in her leg and grit her teeth as the adrenaline of combat leeched out of her. Her leg wound was starting to bleed through the bandage. "I'm going to go with Clara here. I don't know about the rest of you, but..." she tilted her leg to the side, revealing the tear in her trousers and, more important, the blood seeping out from behind the somewhat makeshift bandage around it, "I think I need a minute to get this patched up better now that my arm is working."

And, resolving to ignore any protests that might come her way, she sat herself down on the forest floor, making sure her arm was in full working order before taking out her sabre and gingerly cutting the bandage away from her leg, hissing as some of the crusty blood on the fabric pulled at the open wound. Working grimly and quickly, she took out her canteen and splashed water over the wound, washing off the dried blood and sluicing it clean. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply through her teeth, before continuing.

"So," she forced herself to speak through a clenched jaw, "we have twisted birds and a twisted krovar. Anybody want to place bets on what horror we're going to need to deal with next?"

She paused to inspect the now-cleaned wound as best she could through the blood that was flowing more liberally now that she'd washed it out, though not as much as it had before. Heaving out a breath, she gave a silent prayer of thanks. The bird had just barely missed her femoral artery. A quarter of an inch further back and she would have bled out on the land barge's deck. As it was, it was definitely painful and frustrating, but it wasn't overly dangerous. The blood flow was already slowing to less of a pour and more of a seep. She wrapped the bandage tightly around the wound and tied it off with a few quick motions before standing up and testing it, giving a mirthless little smile. Much better.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by mickilennial
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mickilennial The Elder Fae

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Location: Ifrise Forest, Sovereignty of Dryadalis


Pythia had felt herself rather ineffective in the fight. Between the mutations the monster held and her magic just coming back to her fingertips, it wasn’t something she could help much with. Feeling effectively useless in a group was probably better than being effectively useless by herself, though, and she found herself fortunate she was surrounded by fellow magi at the moment. As Clara and Etoile discussed gathering their bearings the red-haired princess found herself walking over to the corpse of the krovar, eyes narrowed like she expected it to rise from the dead. They had effectively killed the creature, but how many times had Pythia been in a situation where she thought she killed something only to be proven wrong? Magically mutated creatures had a habit of refusing to die. There was one way to make sure that didn’t happen.

In a moment, her hand fell to the hilt of her blade and she unsheathed it in a lightning flash—magical energy surging within it. Before anyone could turn their neck at the sound of metal and lightning cracking down the krovar would find itself with its head removed from its lifeless body.

“This is the work of an insane magi. I'm sure of it.”
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Etoile


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"Really now?" bit out Etoile caustically. "What on Vitae might have given you that idea, Sparky? Was it the murderous krovar? Or the murderous birds? Or perhaps the very specifically-aligned antimagic zone positioned along the tracks we were running on? An insane magi! What a novel idea!"

Now that she'd gotten that out of the way--honestly, do these people ever think before they speak?--she wore a more serious frown than the mocking one on her face a moment before. "Now then, if we're done spitting obvious truths, let's see if we can't find this magi. I've much to pay them back for. This whole land-barge thing was already uncomfortable enough. Making it even more so deserves a special kind of punishment."

She picked a stick up, carving a furrow in the ground with it in the shape of a heptagon, with a large circle inscribed at each angle thereof. "Now, I know this might be difficult for the less...scholastically inclined of you--" she shot a look at Zestasia, "--but ether has a tendency to like the number seven a lot. If I had to guess, for something this elaborate, there would be seven different foci forming the incantation." She used the stick as a makeshift pointer to indicate the seven points at the angles of the shape. "We break the foci, we break the incantation, and the Eoldysseus starts moving again." She chewed her lip for a moment. "Still, even in that best-case situation, we still have a maleficarum on the loose. I'd love to know where to find them, but they could be anywhere out here." She cast her hands out to the wood, then turned back to the group. "So, any suggestions?"
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Hidden 5 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by mickilennial
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Location: Ifrise Forest, Sovereignty of Dryadalis


Pythia rolled her eyes at the remark.

However, condescending tone aside, the blonde-haired woman was correct in her assessment and Pythia preferred someone to be rude and correct than polite and oblivious when she was forced to work with someone else. Months upon months of working by herself had its benefits, though given the krovar and the birds the red-haired magi knew that they were in a particular situation that benefited from being in a group. She saw that pretty clearly as everyone else continued to lick their wounds and regain their energy. What she also saw was one of two options that didn't involved running away and leaving innocent barge passengers to the elements.

They weren't complicated options, but both had the same element of danger and both had the same conclusion that they would have to fight a moderately powerful and deranged individual. A weak magi would not be able to conjure both an antimagic field and keep threats at a distance by controlling magically corrupted wildlife.

Turning back to face the group, Pythia spoke again as she sheathed her blade before anybody could get a closer look at it.

“We either find the person responsible and stop the magical nexus outright or we destroy the foci and draw them out.”
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Ifrise Forest, Sovereignty of Dryadalis

“Oh, I’m just dandy!” Zestasia cheerfully replied in earnest to Carla, giving the older-looking woman a bright smile.

Zestasia Calore was a fighter. He could last days without taking so much of a moment’s rest. He was one of those people who had the added benefit of youthful energy and not taking much time to slow down by anyone or anything. He never let a little fatigue stop him. Plus, he had enough stored up light to rejuvenate his stamina if he needed to for one or two more bursts. So as far as being affected by the battle, sure he was a little worn out but nothing a good meal couldn’t fix.

And because he started thinking about food, the reality of the situation set in. No matter how much sunlight he took in and it healed his minor injuries, when Zestasia was hungry and was reminded that he hadn’t had a decent meal in god-knows how long, he was as weak as -- well, the rest of the group was right now. So, if it really was up for debate, that’s what he voted on. His mind and stomach both agree that a nice meal and maybe a hot bath is what the group needs.

Zestasia was going to suggest that, but then Etoli-Etolie--Eto had to start talking about a lot of things he wasn’t exactly aware of. A lot of the words were too complicated for him to keep track of. When she glanced his way, however, there was a feeling crawling through the depths of his empty stomach that it wasn’t a complimentary glance she gave him.

On the mention of suggestions, Zestasia’s stomach growled again. He frowned when he had a feeling that getting something to eat wasn’t on the table just yet. “So does this mean we can’t get something to eat first?” He knew the answer to that question and it only made him frown more and sink into a standing sulking position.
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IFRISE FOREST — SOVEREIGNTY OF DRYADALIS


"Why don't you roast that krovar corpse with your sun powers or something? Bet there's plenty to go around!" Clara teased, too exhausted to throw complaints at Zestasia. The corner of her lips curled into a smirk. "Unless you wanna start munching on tree bark, I don't think you'll be getting much as long as we're stuck here."

The glee in her face soon faded as she stumbled over to Etoile's diagram, collapsing into a sitting position behind it. Clara's eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"And that's why if there's any way we can find the sneaky bastard behind all this, I suggest we do that," Clara hissed through her splitting headache, "I'm sure it'll be faster than trying to find those foci things in a forest as big as this. If we find and stop this guy, we stop the incantation or whatever, right? And that'll get the barge moving again, won't it?"

As much as she didn't want the barge passengers to meet their demise, Clara just wanted to get out of the damned forest already. She wasn't on a barge headed straight to Thlecia just for some nostalgic day trip, she needed to get there at some point. If she couldn't make it to her location alive, then what was the point in coming all this way?

No matter what the cost, Clara had to make it back home.

"What if we set up a trap? Maybe we could lure them out somehow and attack from the shadows, something like that. But since this person's plan seems so… elaborate, it would take a lot more time to think of something that'll actually work against them. Time which we don't have."
Hidden 5 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by mickilennial
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“Yes. That is what I said.” The red-haired girl commented, trying to hold back the contempt in her voice.

Pythia considered the thought of going alone for a moment, though she wasn’t so foolish to think she could take on a renegade magi with this kind of power by herself.

With her thumb pressed firm upon her sheathed blade’s hilt, Pythia started thinking about the woman’s suggestion to “trap” the enemy. A novel idea, but one that required something to trap a magi with. Screeching in the forest likely wouldn’t be good enough, so what exactly was she proposing? Pythia wasn’t sure she knew considering the follow-up to the proposal was needing time to come up with a plan. Pythia's eyes moved back to that of the blonde woman who gave off a bossy demeanor. The woman who had sort of corralled the ineffective group together.

“With our connection to magic renewed, we could probably start picking up on any ambient energy. Try to track the strongest sense to the source. This is assuming people here are capable of detecting magic beyond their own innate ability to use it.”

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The Eoldysseus - Ifrise Forest, Sovereignty of Dryadalis

He glared at Clara and the smirk on her face forced a giggle out of his. He took his time diverting his eyes from the bark of the trees around him, actually considering if they were safe for consumption or not. It seemed to work for woodland creatures but probably not the sort of thing humans should eat, especially not when there’s a perfectly appetizing source of meat right in front of them.

“Well, I suppose we shouldn’t let go to waste.”

Zestasia licked his lips, salivating at the possibilities of the krovar meat. This was foreign territory for him. He had very limited knowledge about krovar. So like all great curious minds wanting to know more about something, Zestasia walked up and knelt in front of the carcass, inspecting it from a close distance.

He manipulated the sun ether around his left hand just enough to provide him with a cutting tool. He slid his hand across the belly of the beast and let the oozing liquid that he assumed was blood pour out. He reached into the carcass with the ether-covered hand and felt around for anything loose. It took him only a few moments to pull out something solid and it was a palm-sized filet, which again Zestasia was assuming. Nothing about what he felt inside the belly nor what he pulled out registered as common knowledge.

“So, this is what its come to, huh?” He kept his eyes on the piece of meat he held in his hand, rotating it within the palm and used his fingers as a makeshift rotisserie. He would spend the next couple of minutes slowly cooking the meat.

The fear of the unknown had crept into his mind so much that even as the piece of beef in his hand neared outward doneness and as Zestasia pressed his other hand against it, making sure it was perfectly cooked, he wasn’t sure. He had no idea of knowing if it was poisonous or not. If it was and he ate it, he could die, but if it wasn’t and he didn’t eat it, then he’ll be hungry.

Neither of those options was ideal

His mind kept dividing attention between what he held in his hand and if this actually was literal poison disguised as a delicious chunk of meat.

"Yo, guys," Zestasia beckoned to the group in a raised voice. "Does this look safe to eat?" He asked, holding up the filet of meat in his hand.
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Location: Ifrise Forest, Sovereignty of Dryadalis


As Pythia looked to strategize with Etolie she was stopped by the sound and smell of perhaps the stupidest idea she could ever conceive.

Zestasia, in his infinite wisdom, had decided Clara’s suggestion to eat the corrupted Krovar was a suggestion made in earnest despite Clara’s obviously derisive, sardonic tone. The red-haired magi wasn’t sure if she had ever met a more foolish man in her life. Even the children she had met over the years were smarter.

Pythia had been cool and level-headed since she met her current group on the barge, but this was probably the first time she struggled to keep her wits about her. All it took was for someone like Zestasia to ask the dumbest question she had ever heard on top of already deciding to cook it while the entire group stared at him in absolute awe. She was honestly surprised Clara hadn’t told him to stop as soon as he lit the meat to the flame, but she was probably as shocked by his earnest stupidity as Pythia was.

“Y-you?” She managed as she turned her head in actual shock. An exasperated sigh left her lips as she smacked the piece of meat out of his hand, like a mother stopping a infant from drinking a poison. “Are you actually braindead?! Do you want to get sick and go insane just to fill your gut with meat? It is abundantly clear that krovar has been corrupted by dark magicks and you think that this is a good idea to eat? Clara wasn't being serious!”


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Etoile


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Etoile took a deeeeep breath as Zestasia continued...being Zestasia, and Pythia went off on him. She rolled her eyes. "Sparky, settle down. If he wants to eat it, let him. It can't make him any dumber. Maybe he'll die, but I mean...that's probably going to make him smarter, honestly." She stabbed her finger down on the center of the diagram. "I was never very good at finding magic other than mine; I used to have other people to do that for me. I'm a bit too rigid with magic to let it flow right. I rather like the idea of drawing the magi out, but we need something valuable and important."

She started looking around the group, looking for something that would be important enough: Nothing on Clara, mostly just clothes and traveling supplies. Same goes for Zestasia. I don't know enough about Lazulin to say if he has anything...and I don't know how much I actually trust him. Pagonia and Sparky have those swords. That's something. I wonder...

She stood up, walking over to Pagonia and poking at the sword. She wasn't particularly good at tracking magic, but she could still generally feel it. There was a spark from the sword as the touched it, but not a big one. There was some magic, to be sure, but she didn't know if the sword itself was magic, or rather if there had been enough magic used on the sword to give it some ambient stuff on its own.

Then she touched Pythia's sword, and swore a bit. There was...a lot of magic in the sword. She couldn't quite tell what kind of magic--she sighed at her lack of knowledge in this kind of stuff, despite how learned she was in magical structure and theory--but it was absolutely LAYERED with enchantments. She stepped back, giving Pythia a look. "Hey, Sparky. How willing are you to put that sword up for a minute?"
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It took a moment for Pythia to calm herself after Etolie made the suggestion to do so.

“If he dies, he dies” wasn’t a particular moral sentiment, but if she was expected to babysit a grown man in a dire situation like this, she couldn’t think of a better point-of-view to take. She looked closer, back towards the diagram, as Etolie began to explain that she couldn’t track magic very well. It was a strange thing to hear, but Pythia didn’t know her life story and she doubted she was born into a situation of necessity to hone certain skills.

Etolie’s suggestion of drawing the enemy out with something valuable and important made her clutch firm on her sword. Without it, Pythia was defenseless, but inside she knew there was nothing anybody had that was more powerful or recognizable than the Sword of Judas. The legendary sword of the Nsiferium Dynasty. Her eyes locked onto the blonde’s movements as she inspected the rest of the party for items until her hand pricked Pythia’s sword and her magic had a virulent reaction in kind.

Then came her question.

How willing was she to give up her weapon and foci, if only for a few moments? Pythia considered it, but she needed more technical information.

“What’s your plan, exactly?” She uttered, holding tightly to her sword. “I’m not going to abandon my foci.”


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The Eoldysseus - Ifrise Forest, Sovereignty of Dryadalis

"It's not like it could hurt. I mean, the krovar is dead, so that should make it okay to eat, right?"

Even though he seemed justified in his question, there had to be apart of him that knew what Pythia was saying was the absolute truth. Then again, in the time he's known the group, Pythia has seemed to have it out for Zestasia, so she could be pulling a prank on him. Feeding him false information so he would starve to death. Or if she wasn't and what he held in his hand was truly poisonous to consume and whatever black magic remained, then Zestasia was the idiot here and delayed what he had to assume was a very important conversation with the group.

"I--" Just as he was about to speak, Etoile said something about dying and his eyes glanced at the filet and he immediately chucked it into the forest. Like the flicker of fire, Zestasia realized the errors of his ways. "No way am I dying cause of some meat!" He declared, shaking his head.

Zestasia waited for a few moments and when there was no response, he felt like someone had punched him in the gut, so he deeply sighed and remained where he was, looking between Etoile and Pythia, seeing them share intense gazes. He might've missed some things in the midst of his own self-decisions about not dying, so he was following the conversation that much. He knew it had to do with Pythia's sword because of how Etoile was looking at it.

"How interesting," Zestasia murmured, watching the two ladies.

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Etoile


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"Bah, if only you were all trained soldiers. I suppose I have to lay it out for you." She began pacing, hands held behind her back as she spoke. Her voice, while of course slightly vexed as usual, was calm, collected. She was in her element here, and almost wanted someone to interrupt so she could put them in their place.

"Our main advantage in this situation, such as it is, is that we know this mysterious magi's motivations. Twisting birds and krovar like that and using them to attack a land barge is a fairly clear-cut message: "I don't care about morality." And once we determine that morality is out the window, the motive presents itself." She stopped pacing and paused (perhaps for dramatic effect, though she would never admit it). "Power. Whatever this magi wants--vengeance somehow, sacrifices, solitude--all of it circles back around to them wanting to acquire power. Power over other life forms, power to attack the Imperium, power to kill a lot more people than are on a single land barge. And the great thing about knowing someone is motivated by power and only power is that they start to add predictably: acquire. More. Power. And so, my suggestion is simple: we give them what they want."

She pointed her sheathed sabre at Pythia's sword. "Whatever enchantments are on that thing, there are a lot of them. It's by far the most powerful thing that we have on us, and lest we forget," she motioned off in the vague direction of the barge, "we're running out of time. So, in plain terms: we put your sword down in the forest. We let the insane magi or a servant thereof take the sword. Then, depending on whether the magi or a servant, we either do a basic ambush or tail them until they lead us straight to their master." As she continued speaking, her voice began to grow louder, a touch less under control. As much as she wanted to project the air of being the calm strategist, this magi had made it personal once she'd ripped Etoile's thigh up. There was a grudge there now, and she relished the thought of popping an insane magi's head straight off.

"And then, once we have them where we want them, we go in for the kill, break the nexus of the circle, end the enchantment, and the Eoldysseus starts to move again. No matter how powerful they are, an ambush will catch them off guard, and there are enough of us that it would very difficult to mount an immediate counterattack as long as we're all operating under a relatively similar time frame. Simple." She thrust the sheathed sword down to the ground point-first with a sharp clacking sound, first directing an armor-piercing look at Pythia, then panning her head around to take in all of the different magi that she'd found herself working with. "Any questions?"
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“No questions.” Pythia commented as she took a step back and took a guarded stance.

The idea that she was to abandon Judas and let their enemy take such a weapon unnerved her. She knew the plan smelled rotten when she heard Etoile mention she was entirely inept at tracing magic—that she had the privilege for other people to do that for her. What kind of magi couldn’t commit to even the basics of function she wondered. There was a difference between needing to rely on a foci to cast magic and complete lack of ability to feel the mana that existed in the air, the water, and the soil. Pythia felt her paranoia raise as her mood lowered, curious of what kind of person the self-styled leader of the group was. Where did she come from? Every magi had a story, after all. Her posture, now that she was looking for it, did seem strange to the red-headed princess.

She looked to the rest of the group, though kept her eyes on the blonde in front of her. She did not want her to suspect she was scared or taken-aback.

“I do, however, think your plan is an idiot’s gamble and I will have no part in it. This sword is too imp—.” The red-haired girl's eyes widened as she paused, before changing the subject of her reply as quick as she could in the moment. “—this sword is my foci, and as an artificem magum I would be unable to defend myself in the face of this threat. I will not allow this insane wild mage to have my weapon. We will need to dictate a better plan.”


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Etoile


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This sword is too important, hmm?

There was definitely something more going on with Pythia's sword than just being her foci. Still, Etoile couldn't afford to bring it up now; the last thing they needed was to alienate one of their already rather small operation. So, she contented herself with a small show of frustration as she rolled her eyes. "Alright, since little miss princess over here thinks her sword is better than all the rest of us and that we're not competent enough to defend her until she gets her foci back," she turned to the rest of the group, "does anybody else have any powerful magical artifacts? Old amulets, family heirlooms, something that has enough power in it that a crazy wild mage might stop and think about grabbing? Or, alternately, does anybody else have another idea that might work? I'm afraid that I've got precious few plans to go on here."

All things considered, she wasn't surprised that her plan had been dismissed out of hand. Still, she was disappointed. In a place like Ifrise, it could take days to find someone by tracking them through magical presence alone--at least, that's what her aides always used to tell her--and, as much as she was loath to admit it, she had no other plans for finding this magi. Some tactician I am. More to the point, they definitely didn't have days. While Anníbas and his Inquisitors could go die for all Etoile cared, there were innocent people on that barge that didn't deserve to suffer the same fate. Sure, maybe the doors and windows could hold out against birds for a while. But what would happen if something like a krovar ended up on deck? A wooden door certainly wouldn't stop one of those, and--in all likelihood--would distract the Inquisitors long enough for birds to rip them up. The people on the barge were standing on the sands of a slipping hourglass, and Pythia's obstinacy certainly wasn't helping.

Actually...I do have one piece of equipment that I could throw in the pot for pure amount of mana in it. But I'd rather not. She clenched her left hand on her artificial arm's shoulder, looking around and hoping for a flash of inspiration that wouldn't involve taking her arm off.
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IFRISE FOREST — SOVEREIGNTY OF DRYADALIS


For the minute Clara had her back turned away, Zestasia had actually gone and roasted the krovar corpse. Of course, she didn't say anything. How could she even respond to that? Clara figured the boy wasn't as intelligent as most, but after what he'd just pulled, she feared he was a lot worse than she'd previously thought.

But there were more important things to worry about than a not-so-smart kid putting bad things into his mouth when he shouldn't. Just when the group looked like they had a decent plan in the works, all it took was the red head's reluctance to take them back to square one. Her reasoning was understandable, but it was still frustrating to hear her rejection. Most of the group may have been hurt, but in terms of magic abilities alone, they seemed plenty capable of protecting Pythia as Etoile said. But frustration would get her nowhere, she didn't have the time to get picky with some random kid she'd just met.

"I mean, I can sense magic just fine. But finding a specific source? This forest is huge, can we even do something like that?" She turned towards Pythia. "Unless you'd like to do the honours, since you suggested it."
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“As I said.”

The red-haired girl sighed, unclipping her sheath from her belt as she closed her eyes while using her sword as a magical compass of sorts.

Pythia was both informally and formally trained in magic, talented far above the others who had lived their lives as royal exiles in the small compound on the outskirts of the kingdom many years ago. As a child, as long as she had her foci, she could find even the tiniest needle in the largest haystack. As dense and as large as the Ifrise Forest was Pythia knew it would be a challenge come enough time and concentration. A surge of energy soon began to envelop Pythia's sword, despite it still being sheathed in its rather ordinary sheath. With a large spark at the tip of the sheathed black the swordswoman gently moved with the waves of mana in the air as if she was recognizing each far out magical node and pylon buried between the magically dense forest they found themselves searching through.

“We do not need bait to find the source.” She commented before she re-opened her eyes. “Get your bearings. Tell me when you're ready.”


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Etoile


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Etoile really, really hated being incompetent.

Much of her life had been devoted to being as good as she could be at everything she could get her hands on, the devil take whatever it was. Single combat? She could do that. Squad support functions? Coordinating troop movements? Check. Provisioning and planning? Yep. When she was younger, simply being good at things had been an obsession. And while she'd gotten a bit less intense about it as she aged--only so much time in the day to learn while still fulfilling one's duties, after all--it still frustrated her to be measurably worse at something someone else.

It rankled her like nothing else that she'd needed to rely on aides and assistants to track magic for her. She didn't know what was wrong with her, really; it wasn't genetic, clearly, as anyone capable of magic in her family had been able to feel aether in the air quite easily and intuitively. She'd spent months of time devoted solely to researching this...defect of hers in an effort to overcome it and--yes, be more competent. Or, barring that, at least know what was wrong with her. But she'd found nothing. And then her research had been interrupted by her digging into the Nsiferum dynasty, and her subsequent arrest and escape. And, well, she hadn't exactly had a lot of time or resources to do detailed magical research since then. Being on the run tended to complicate such prospects. She'd philosophically accepted by now that she'd never be able to track magic without some kind of magitek compass to help her, but accepting it certainly didn't mean she had to like it.

And so, her mood plummeted as Pythia began to do what she'd never been able to. And then, horror of horrors, asked the rest to do the same. Yeah, Etoile, her inner critic mocked at Pythia's remark, get your bearings. You don't want to be a burden, do you? Her teeth ground together, and she leaned backwards against a tree, clenching her artificial fist behind her back to the point of hearing a creaking sound. Her neutral--if somewhat irritated, almost congenitally so--expression turned into a sullen frown, and she spoke quietly:

"I'll just follow you and watch our backs then, Sparky."
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Taka The Last Son of Vegeta

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Pagonia could not believe his eyes as his blade slid through the soft underbelly of the creature that had been terrorizing the group. His arm and chest were starting to bruise from the initial strike he took and his mind was racing in glee. A grin formed in the corner of his mouth, glowing like the sun, as he pulled his blade from the creature. Alone, Pagonia knew that he would have died or at-least nearly died against a creature of this nature, but this time he had help from a team. Makeshift as this team was, it was a relief to fight with people by his side. Zestasia being alongside him only intensified this feeling, his baby brother was a legit fighter now. The young swordsman stepped back till his back hit the tree behind him, dropping down to his butt, and resting his wounded body. It only took a few moments before Pagonia had fallen into a light sleep, still able to hear the conversations for the most part.

Memories came rushing back as he took a light nap. The sound of steel clashing, screams filling the air, and blood splattering walls. The memory was clear as day, a face forming in his mind, a face that matched his own. A sadistic grin upon the identical face, his eyes intensely glaring at Pagonia. He knew this face all too well. Even in this shallow dream he could feel anger filling his body. "OURANOS!" Pagonia screamed out as he awoke to the group preparing to leave, small beads of sweat rolling down his forward, his eyes wide open. He could only look around vigorously as no doubt everyone would be staring at the man.

Sorry about that." Pagonia gave a huge awkward smile whilst rubbing the back of his head, "So we gonna follow this magic signal?" Pagonia rose to his feet before walking over to his brother. With the quickness, Pagonia was ruffling Zes's hairas if they had never been part.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by mickilennial
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mickilennial The Elder Fae

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Location: Ifrise Forest, Sovereignty of Dryadalis


“That's correct.”

And so the loud one had gathered his bearings.

Pythia raised Judas to the sky, lightning sparking around the cloth-covered sheath. In her entire time alone on the road she had made certain of her goal to keep Judas as pristine as humanly possible, but the sheath as ragged as she could bear. It still didn’t hide the engravings on the godsteel or the seal of the House of Nsiferum on the pommel, but generally it was good enough to hide its true identity. Pythia still felt nervous, having people focus onto it. It was her foci, but it was also the easiest way to reveal herself to man and woman with the right eye or right education. It was nerve-wracking, but she needed to use it in the moment. Fortunately enough, Pythia hadn’t needed to draw the sword proper. Battle hadn’t come and with the numbers they had in the forest, she still could survive a fight with a crazed magi without actually drawing the sword in full view.

Judas, find me and show me the way. She thought, humming as she attempted to use her sword as a compass, weaving through magical energies to find the location of their target. It took a minute or two of her time, but she could feel it. Hear it.

The nexus was hard to ignore. A large potent central hub of energy with various magical wavelengths teetering around it. She doubted it was the magi, but they had to be close-by. She was sure of it.

She opened her eyes, looking at the direction her sword was pointing. “The nexus is in that direction. If we make a good pace we should still have plenty of daylight. The magi should not be far. They will probably send more monsters.”


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