[IC] Deadwood: Hope, Death, & Misery [Closed]

[Mixtape Ghost N]

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Hope Passage > Exusia
^{@Zombiedude101@The Man Emperor}

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A clansman narrowly rode past Kai and the Dust Mother, two more riderless mounts led behind by ropes - yet more spoils from the raid - being pulled alongside them. Clans valued the beasts, if not for riding then for their meat, so nothing would ever be wasted.

It was clear that this was no true Warband, their numbers dented by a fledgling group of defenders beyond the magics they'd originally anticipated, and a few of the clansmen had already pulled back while others were preoccupied in looting whatever else they could claim before the sands did.

It did not matter, however - the assembled group in the emissary's now-tattered tent had been pressed hard, bruised, and bloodied, even with its strongest champions putting up an admirable defensive against the raiders. A barrier of flame rose just as the cord was cut and the canopy gave way and collapsed onto them.

The very flimsy barrier defending them from the sandstorm was gone and Nakala was forced to grab her hood and throw it over her head. Her friend, the magician, had used the summons to cleave through some of the Boneclansmen. However, as the battle raged on, the members of the Boneclans were withdrawing steadily. Probably realizing that they weren't just some band of nobodies, and the cost was too much. However, they were turning out to figure... shadows in the fierce desert storm.

Nakala was afraid to open her mouth, lest she gets sand in her mouth. Everyone was putting up a good fight, but there were just far too many. And they had all surrounded them. This might be their final battle. Nakala viciously thurst her spear in the direction of one of the Clansmen with the ferocity of a cornered, starved, dog. The spear pierced flesh and a blood-curdling scream rung out from the Bonesclan men.

She yanked back the spear and in the motion, it detached itself from the Clansmen. She panted, as she looked around... and saw herself getting engulfed in white light.

The sand beneath their feet gave way to carved stone and marble, the sound of battle and frequent lashing of the storm against the canvas displaced by an eery calm, as though they were in the eye of a storm.

There was no brown haze - the coarse, bitter taste of the desert winds had left them. Instead, the group was sprawled haphazardly across an open courtyard, surrounded by ornate architecture which made even the finest of Deadwood's remaining cities a mass of broken, shoddy ruins by comparison. Though it was clear these buildings were indeed ancient, great care had gone into their restoration, if not preservation by the magics that now claimed them.

An endless expanse of blue hung above them, yet the sun did not seem so unforgiving as it had mere miles below on the shores of the Bonewater. The people who lived here bore no leathery skin, nor did the masonry seem so weathered and cracked as it did in Alphos to the east.

Nakala looked around, spear in one hand as she used the opposite hand to pull her hood down. She could still kind of taste sand in her mouth, also sand in her eyes (that was fun). She saw various runes drawn on the floor in chalk, and rows arranged in patterns... and surrounding them were Exusian soldiers clad in ornate white armor. Wielding spears, swords, and crossbows - and there were several robed magicians around the ritual circle, women, children, etc.

The Knights faced the group and one of them walked up without a weapon but a scroll spoke,

"You must be here to meet with the Queen," He softly said, "To enter her chambers, you all must relinquish your weapons and all tools used to perform magic. They will be returned to you after the meeting with the Queen... if all goes well."

Nakala narrowed her eyes... this was obviously an intimidation tactic as they were already on Exusia. They were smackdab in the middle of their home turf and had no choice but to play by their rules... or risk death. Nakala wasn't one to kiss ass to the high and "mighty", but she knew a fight that she couldn't win. However, she was going to see how everyone else played this before giving up her spear. Nakala was just as dangerous with it as without it.

She could break the Queen's neck, the same with the Golem.

[Skai]

---

When Kymir left Alphos those few nights ago she never expected to step foot in the city above the clouds.

It was hard to believe that Exusia’s Queen hadn’t placed this quest years ago. Her majesty wanted to know the history of the cataclysm before now, surely. So what was it that kept her from asking for help until now? Somehow this must mean that the Queen’s own citizens could not fulfill her wishes, or perhaps they were too frightened to step food in these lands ever again. Kymir believed in the latter, but she had it in her heart to give the Exusian’s the benefit of the doubt. Surely some of them were confident to roam the lands in the name of the Queen. Either way, Kymir wasn’t surprised that her majesty would leave it to the scavengers of Deadwood to make the journey for her.

Still, Kymir was filled with a fresh feeling of excitement as she stepped into the Bone Sea for the first time in a while. The first day’s journey was spent speculating. Kymir thought of any way this quest could go the wrong way. She also wondered where the group that answered the Queen’s call should start first. To that, Kym really had no answers. She just hoped that someone else would have that in mind. What discoveries would they make? Would it shatter previous speculations, or would it only lead to more questions? Kym wasn’t certain of anything, but she knew that an open mind would yield the best results.

For the next few days, Kym’s focus was more on her surroundings than the journey ahead. She kept an eye on the horizon and her ears to the wind. She was fortunate to see a group of sandwalkers in the distance before they saw her. Kym was glad that this land was called the Bone Sea. The large structures of bones were the greatest advantage in this sea of sand. Kym hid in them, slept in the empty bellies or skulls of the beasts, and often used their shards to carve new arrowheads. In her opinion, the Bone Sea would be easy to survive in, if not for the lack of water and the lurking Beast of the Sand beneath.

Except she forgot to account for the sandstorms.

Kym was nearing the Hope Passage when her eyes set upon the glooming wall of misery. “Well, that’s not a good sign.” She said to herself, yet her voice was anything but grim. With a shrug, Kym untied the blue scarf from her waist and proceeded to wrap it around her head for protection. Her pace quickened, and she made it to the entrance of what she assumed to be Exusia’s makeshift base by the time the sand arrived.

“I am here to answer her majesty’s request. Which tent shall I find her messenger?”

The guards posted there, quick to retreat from the sandstorm, gestured inwards and dared to shout an answer before the sand could coat their throats. “In the cent-”, but he cut his sentence short. His gaze brought on a look of terror as he stared behind Kym into the storm. Kym turned to see what struck him so, and immediately understood his fear. She ran past the guards and into the encampment before they could sound an alarm.

“The Clansmen have arrived with the storm!” Kym shouted into the nearest tent. The men inside didn’t believe her at first. They laughed while Kym withdrew her butterfly swords and moved away from the tent. The clansmen were already upon the encampment. Kym could see the frontline breaking through the camp’s lines easily. The soldiers in the tent were still laughing when the first wave of clansmen hit. Kym turned and continued further into the camp before she could be caught up in the fight. She shouted a warning as she went by groups of travellers and Exusia’s men but she was sure that the sandstorm muffled the sound. At least she tried.

Kym kept going further into the center of the camp. Her eyes searched for the tent where the messenger would be. If she could get the warning to him first, perhaps backup would be sent their way. There! A glimmer of a brightly colored, rather large tent. A few more metres and she’d be-

-too late. A wave of clansmen came from Kym’s left and barraged the nearby tents. A man dressed in the skin and skull of a beast burst from a tent next to her with a war cry. Kym turned to face him, holding her blades at the level of her chest. “I bare no ill will for the Clan of the Bones!” Kym shouted, as if her statement would keep him from attacking.

The clansmen acted as if she said nothing. He raised a giant blade carved from the stone of a beast, it’s handle wrapped with leather stomach lining and stained with red blood, and pointed it at her chest before charging. Kym planted her feet firmly in the sand. Her left blade collided with the bone machete and stopped it mid-air. Her heels digging into the earth as she stood her ground. The clansmen, startled by her strength, cursed her in his language, but had no time to react to her second blade as she swung it towards his stomach. It cut cleanly through, blood flowing from the wound and drenching the sand between his feet. Kym stepped back from the man and let him drop to his knees. Most of the clansmen around her were busy raiding the tents to notice her victory, but she knew that wouldn’t last long. She moved to crouch near a cart, out of sight of any clansmen that roamed, and her head turned to look in the direction of the messenger’s tent.

The sandstorm quelled for just a moment. The space that opened in front of her was enough to show that the group that gathered for the quest were still standing. Perhaps the messenger was as well. Kym searched the storm for any sign of clansmen and with no sight or sound from one took off in the direction of what remained of the tent. She felt as she was nearing it just as a clansmen towing two horses behind him galloped out of the storm. He swung an axe made of bone her way, bellowing a victory cry.

Kym raised both of her swords to meet it. She hadn’t been prepared, and the assault knocked her off of her feet and onto her back. The clansmen galloped away, his laughter fading into the wind. Kym groaned from her place on the ground. The stiff bow on her back had dug into her shoulder and lower back upon landing. At least she’d held onto her blades.

A gust of sandy wind blew into Kym’s face and she grimaced. Her scarf had been knocked loose as well. Kym spat onto the sand next to her and got back to her feet. “I hope the Queen doesn’t mind a little sand.” Kym chuckled to herself before she continued towards the remains of the tent.

“I don’t expect her majesty to grace us during a sandstorm, do you?” Kym asked rather loudly as she approached the group so that they would hear her over the storm. Except, just as she made it close to them, a bright white light engulfed the area around the tent. Kym took a step back in an attempt to avoid it and her foot felt solid ground beneath it. “Huh?” The light faded, and Kym found herself standing in one of the grand hall’s of Exusia.

Kymir was speechless, for the first time in her life. Her very existence felt wrong. Her body was telling her that she didn’t belong here. Everything about this place was just too… perfect.

Her first instinct was to lower her swords. The blood of the clansman still clung to the edges of her blade and she was glad to realize that sand clung to it and kept it from dripping onto the stone floor. Kymir sheathed the blade in her left hand, and pulled a square of worn leather from her pocket to wipe her right blade clean before sheathing it as well. A man had approached them and began to speak. Kym listened to him as she removed her scarf and tied it to her belt.

She was the first to step forwards out of the group, even though she had been the last to arrive.

With a bright smile on her face, Kymir approached the man as she began to remove her bow from across her chest and back.

“I’m sure all will go well. We are here on behalf of the Queen’s request, after all.” She said as she handed the bow over to him. She kept her same smile and gaze on the man as she proceeded to undo the attachments for her quiver and butterfly sword sheath from her belt. After she unceremoniously handed them over to the man, she raised a finger into the air. “Oh! I almost forgot.” She grinned before leaning down to pull her dagger from her boot. “That certainly would have made things uncomfortable.” She said as she placed her final weapon into his care. All done, Kym politely stepped off to the side so the others could take their turn. As she stood to the side, she continued to stare at the room around her.

So this was Exusia...

[The Man Emperor]

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Azariah Kravchenko

The Bone Sea

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"Not today, devil. Not today!" Azariah slashed at one of the Clansmen with his sword, cleanly cutting the man's head off even as he screamed a bellowing shriek of rage at the sight of his comrades getting a chunk of his neck torn off by the furious magishell as if it was having a hearty meal. The miniature magishell, who had slaughtered at least four of the Clansmen since the beginning of the whole scuffle with the band of Boneclansmen, using its blood soaked claws and grinding jaws filled with serrated teeth, jumping into their backs and sides like a little metal devil from hell.

As Hazel's barrier began to form out of her magic, Azariah held out a hand for his little metallic pet to come forward, whispering commands to it in Karlezekian. "Ah, my love, what can I ever do without you and your equally bloodthirsty sister?" Even though the thing didn't even have nerves to feel being touched with, it responded to its master's caressing of its head, as if it could actually feel anything despite being no more than an empty shell animated with magic and given a silent, animalistic sentience.

In yet another display of his... bond with the machine of death and slaughter, he kept speaking to it, even as the circle of flames engulfed their surroundings before they were finally, finally teleported to the floating city of Exusia. "Yes, yes, I know, Blackfang, I'll clean your claws when we're done. Ah- no, you can't eat, you literally can't..."

...

When the Exusians finally brought the party up to Exusia, Azariah was... amazed. Exusia was far beyond what he had imagined; the only thing he could think of that might equal its current splendor would be the old capital of Gran Karlezen, which had been abandoned by what few inhabitants it still had after the Cataclysm. But... This... It was literally heaven. Karlezek holds were claustrophobic due to being underground, but the glory of Exusia, with all its magic and wealth, was still something greater.

Magic, especially. Azariah looked over at the runes that lined the... street? Magic circle they were in, some which he understood, some which he did not.

The Exusians were still quite adamant about them giving up anything that might be used to harm the Queen... though the Goliath and the Xsus... Ji- whatever the insect was called were probably just as dangerous without weapons. Oh well.

"We did say that we accepted these terms earlier, so it's only fair." No it's not. He let the still bloodstained magishell land on the ground, speaking an incantation that 'put it to sleep'. "Careful with the magishell, folks." Azariah motioned at his walking death pet while locking eyes at at least two of the guards. "It's one of a kind."

[Zombiedude101]

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@The Man Emperor

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Artur had emerged from the battle, bruised but otherwise whole - though he knew his body would remind him of that spear when the aches crept forth in the coming hours. Being displaced was a dizzying experience, initially - he almost cursed when the blood-soaked sand beneath his boots instantaneously hardened into marble, but he wasn't such a green boy to not recognise such blatant magic at work.

Nor could he fail to recognise that the Kingdom surrounding him was beyond anything he'd ever laid eyes upon in his thirty-seven, putting his own wretched homeland to shame. That too was dizzying in its own right - though instead of retching, Artur spat off to one side as the ornately garbed Exusians that had surrounded them made their presence known and ever so kindly reminded them to relinquish their arms, perhaps failing to appreciate he and his fellow travellers had just weathered a raid that had seen these Exusians' fellows slaughtered.

Tugging an oilcloth free, he instead set to work on cleaning the blood from his sword, using the moment as an opportunity to ascertain the measure of the people that named this skywards kingdom their own. Men, women and children. Spellcasters and knights.

Knights, better equipped than most soldiers he'd fought with in his time. Their plate wasn't dented or spotted with rust, their weapons forged by skilled craftsmen, perhaps even bound by spells at the Witch-Queen's behest. And doubtless, they were trained and drilled well enough, yet there was a certain quality to these Exusians that betrayed a certain weakness - that life above the world made them soft. If the ambush of the guardsmen by a raiding band had been anything to go by, their sort simply weren't prepared for the realities that the world offered.

Artur wagered that, to a man, if one stripped away the ornate gilding and castle-forged steel, these men weren't much different than the likes of which he'd fought and fought alongside in his years, no less likely to bend or break under the heat of a true battle. Maybe he was wrong, but their lot had left much to be desired at the camp - not even magic had been enough to save the emissary.

Nonetheless, he had no argument with them. Exusia wasn't the kingdom he claimed, nor did he harbour any desire to ruin the opportunity that awaited him here. Swords and spears.

It was doubtful that the Exusians would've gone to such trouble to pluck them from the desert only to slaughter or enslave them. And doubtless, if he were in the Witch-Queen's position, he would've taken the same care in dealing with a band of travelers-for-hire.

After all, a bastard was no stranger to threats of assassins and plots.

Once his sword was clean, Artur repeated the same motion with his dagger, still crimson-stained from where he'd pricked the clansman's belly and then some. Then, rather than removing his swordbelt, the bastard handed both sword and dagger to one of the waiting knights by the flat of their blades. "Aye, your Queen has no need to fear for her person where I'd be concerned." He made no mention of the hunting blade stowed in a pouch along the back of his belt - though he had no intention of using it here.

For a moment, he eyed Azariah and the peculiar yet deadly metallic curiosity that seemed animated by some queer magics alone,

"Come, boy - I doubt the Queen's folk are like to toy with your pet." Though he was certainly green, at least the lad hadn't shat himself and crumpled when the clansmen attacked them at the camp. As for the rest of the group, those who'd joined the fighting had at least demonstrated they could follow directions. Good enough, for now.

The few who didn't - well, perhaps they'd show some other use. Bur other sorceress and the crone? They warranted watching if nothing else. Though he was no mere swineherd that feared spectres and woodstalkers would curse his livelihood, he'd seen enough to take nothing at face value. Magic was a fickle beaat.

Now to see what the Witch-Queen wanted with the lot of them.

[KremeSupreme]

Magdalene did her best to keep her composure as the losing battlefield quickly devolved into hell. No matter how hard they fought, regardless of the she managed to fire, everything just got worse. More of the Bone Clansmen swarmed in, the tent became more and more tattered, the sandstorm worsened on them... It took more effort just keeping calm than actually fighting these damned raiders...

The whole experience was painfully familiar to the Band of Wolves' final night; Superior armed opponents pouring through the camp, cutting down anyone and everyone. Their own bows and clubs laughably useless compared to seasoned warriors. Only this time it was much worse; The sandstorm threatened to rip the skin off their bones at this point, and they could call themselves lucky if a single one of them survived.

Then, suddenly, a ring of fire roared as it surrounded the group. Shortly after, the tent fell over, the full brunt of the sandstorm now flooding into the tent. Following her old trusted survival tactic, Magdalene hit the ground, pulling up her hood over her head and closing her eyes. Between acting like a corpse and hiding behind a small flipped over group of furniture, she'd be completely overlooked. Her best hope at the moment was that the Clansmen would finally flee and let the sandstorm finish off their group of travelers. She didn't actually expect making it out of this situation alive.

She didn't see the light that enveloped the group, and mistook it's warmth as the desert. She did, however, feel the coarse sand and dirt give way to smooth and cool stone, and heard the cacophonic carnage grind to a halt. Magdalene raised herself up on her knees, her entire body still quivering, and looked around. They'd left the ruined and ravaged tent of the camp below, and were now in a courtyard, surrounded by knights and robed figures of various sizes and build. The air was no longer blistering and full of dust particles, but instead clean and refreshing, allowing Magdalene some fresh air.

Upon registering that they were now safe and still alive in Exusia, Magdalene fell backwards, collapsing back onto the courtyard's expertly-cut tiles, letting out a long and rough groan of relief as she gazed up at the blue cloudless sky above. She could've even started to cry in joy at the sheer miracle that rescued them. But, they had a job at hand. One of the knights stood forward and, repeating the same terms as the now-dead delegate below, ordered them to drop their weapons and magical tools, before their audience with the Queen.

Despite her initial protest the first time, Magdalene had no arguments this time. After the ordeal she just endured, she had no privilege of withholding her weapons, especially not when the hospitality of Exusia was the only thing saving them from the savage raid of the Bone Clans below. Sitting herself up, she realized she was still clutching her crossbow, even after dropping to the ground and being teleported leagues into the sky. One of the knights walked towards her, and she handed it over to him. Reaching into her pouch, she handed over her knife as well. Confused for a moment, she looked down at Poe;

"I Don't... suppose my bird counts as a weapon?" Magdalene asked the knight as she stood up properly, her voice still hoarse and shaky. She held up Poe on her palm. The black bird flapped their wings and pecked at their feathers, flinging off what remained of the sand.

[Atrophy]

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---

At first it seemed that instead of a fortress Hazel had conjured a city. No, had she teleported them? Since when could she—no, of course it had not been her. She snapped her book shut and lowered her hand. There was a warmth on her face that wasn’t the blood and she looked up to see the sun as her eyes readjusted from the sandstorm. A gentle breeze rustled her hair as she looked around her, mouth going slightly slack as she took in the structures around her, alien in appearance due to how pristine they looked. Where was the rotting woods and burnt out landscape? Where were the hard faces and broken bodies? Where was the death and misery? Gone, all of it.

Hazel lowered her head and smiled to herself. So, she had actually made it to Exusia. She looked back up at the people encircling their little band of fighters, with their soft skin and ornamental armor. Many Ember Makers, especially when whiskey added fuel to their zealous fire, boasted about how they one day dreamed of making it to Exusia so they could liberate the people from the evil magicians that kept them oppressed. Hazel clutched her book to her chest. These people lacked the coarseness to them caused by the friction of being forced against the ground by a tyrant’s boot. Perhaps it was an actual utopia after all. Hazel huffed. She knew better than most that appearances often only ever existed just to deceive.

Take, for example, the knights surrounding them with weapons drawn. Not a single blade had a nick on the edge, not a single piece of armor had a scratch. Hazel would find it hard to believe that they’d seen any action outside of the training ground, and even then she doubted the difficulty of their regimand—for example, how quickly the tent guards had been bested by a wild pack of raiders. The knights demanded they hand over their weapons, but what could they do if they didn’t? Hazel saw images of the spearmaiden pushing her weapon through the paper armor of the scroll reader, of the crossbow bolts bouncing harmless off of the golem, of the short man gleefully pointing to the next victim as his animated construct ribbons the first knight foolish enough to lift a sword against him.

She felt herself tense as Nakala didn’t hand over her spear, and the breeze grew cold as visions of a slaughter continued playing out in her mind. The magicians would quickly fall to the arrows of the sun elf and the superstitious hunter, while the crafty Kaimerian and her sneaky human friend would unleash some ploy to distract the rest. She could hear the mad man laughing in harmony with the bug as he jumped into the fray, and she could feel the heat on her skin as the citizens surrounding them revealed themselves to be the true mages of Exusia with an explosive fireball that consumed them all.

Hazel drifted back to reality and suspiciously eyed the crowd. Hazel met the eye of a child in the crowd that stared at her with something more than curiosity. An invitation to a bunch of opportunists to be granted an audience before an insane Queen who’d harbored a bunch of magic users before tearing her city away from the world; they’d have to be crazier than the Queen to believe that the only dangerous ones around were the ones with fancy swords and flowing robes. She stared at the child and smiled, who was quick to turn and tug on her mother’s sleeve. I see you. The mother glared at Hazel, picked up the girl, and walked away. Only then did she remember that she was drenched in the blood of a dead clansman and they were probably the first killers that child had ever seen.

Hazel felt her eyes water and looked nervously at Nakala. Please, hand your weapon over. Instead, the elf who’d snuck in past the clansmen was the first to do it, setting off a chain reaction of others giving in to the demands of the knight. Hazel jumped in line as she returned her book to her bag before handing it and her weapons over to the Exusians. She stepped to the side, glanced back at her compatriots that were still wiping the blood from their blades, and folded her hands behind her back.

“Sorry, I’m sure this is a stupid question, but we aren’t truly expected to meet before anyone, let alone the Queen, looking like...this?” she asked the knight, meeting his eyes as she gestured to her sand-covered, blood-soaked companions. “It’s just that we've had a bit of a day and I do want this meeting to go well—not just because I am fond of my stuff, either. I think we'd all do better with a moment to recuperate. Just..." She picked a red globule of viscera out of a loose strand of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes and stared at it as she grew quiet, her gaze growing distant as the howling of wind and flames deafened her hearing. "...I, I need a moment..."

[Maxx]

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Northern Grasslands- Knut Avenstroup Haugen

Flames erupted around Fourteen, washing away the fight that surrounded him. The tent came crashing down and a section pressed against his face, blinding him. Fourteen roared again, that industrial, crunching sound. He staggered backwards, trying to be cognizant of his allies nearby- if he stepped on one of them, they would be seriously wounded for quite some time. He reached up and took the thick canvas of the tent in both hands, then pulled with all his might. The canvas tore in two, but when he looked out, the sandy battlefield was gone and the tent seemed to evaporate from his grip. He was somewhere else now, somewhere...nice.

The marble and stone buildings around Fourteen all glimmered with master craftsmanship, and the armor of the knights shone bright in the clean, golden sunlight. There was no dust here, no drab greying of the sun. Fourteen felt a pure, dry warmth on his body. It felt familiar, but he couldn’t place when or where. Fourteen looked around at the marble columns and stately manors surrounding the courtyard into which they had been summoned. Well-trimmed gardens lined the paths, evergreen trees cut into neat cones and flowerbeds overflowing with dazzling blooms. Never before had he seen such stunning colors.

Off in the distance, though, Fourteen saw something that he truly had never seen before. Walking down a busy avenue, nestled amongst a throng of citizens heading to or from some marketplace, was...another golem. It was as tall as Fourteen, its rocky exterior a pale grey-blue. It carried a pack on its back on which were stacked neat rows of bricks. As it walked, the crowd parted, otherwise unconcerned with the gargantuan construct traveling with them. The golem looked straight ahead, no wavering in its step or focus. Fourteen watched with what could only be called envy. This golem was not unlike himself, except it had purpose. With each step it took, it got closer to accomplishing a goal: a simple goal, sure, but one that would make its master pleased with its performance. It led a life that Fourteen had always wanted. In this place, Fourteen knew, he could truly be happy. He could do what he was meant to do. All he had to do now was get permission to stay.

The others parted with their weapons, handing them over to the knights. Fourteen had nothing to hang over, so he only watched the others. His allies had taken a beating, their armor and skin blotted with blood from the battle. Fourteen winced as he unclenched his hand and the pain from his knuckle injury streaked up his arm. He looked down at his knuckle; there was only a small crack, a few inches long. Fourteen had sustained worse injuries, and he knew this wound would heal with time. In the meantime, he would have to be careful with his left fist.

Fourteen looked towards the others. Having now battled with them, he felt a blossom of kinship within him. These were good people, capable at the least. He looked to Artur, who was giving up his sword to the knights. The man seemed haggard and wild, but within him Fourteen sensed more. He seemed a keen strategist and warrior- though the knights around them had more well-maintained armor and weapons, Fourteen doubted any of them could take Artur in a fight. The same, too, went for the short man and the large woman with the spear. Both had fought by Artur’s side and appeared relatively unscathed. Fourteen watched Azariah put his odd mechanical servant to rest. This servant, he wagered, was not much unlike him. Perhaps Azariah would know something about golem-crafting, but now was not the time to ask. Fourteen stepped towards the others, careful not to get too close and bump into anyone.

”You," Fourteen said, pointing to Artur with an enormous, stone finger. ”You are a commander of authority. I respect you.”

[Mixtape Ghost N]

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Exusia

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Croix and Ziyz-Ziz-Vrxyl were unfortunately left behind, neglected to be teleported into Exusia. It is in the remains of Hope Passage where they met their end, ripped to shreds by the Boneclan. Much like many others who were born into this land, they were forgotten by time, their story never told.

"No," The knight said to Hazel firmly and sharply. "The Queen wishes to speak with you now."

An impatient lot. Nakala thought to herself, she noticed some of them (particularly the girl with the red hair) nervously eyeing her. Nakala wondered if it was because she was hesitant to hand over her weapon, or because of something else. Seeing that everyone else was playing ball, Nakala had no reason to worry. She was on their home turf, after all. She placed her other hand on the spear and presented it to the knights, where they confiscated it much like the equipment of the others. She wondered about Hazel's idea and thought it would be a great idea but obviously, the Exusians were against outsiders using their facilities.

"Let us make haste," The knight said, raising his spear and lowering it, "Tabitha awaits!"

The two knights turned on their heels and began marching, while several other knights surrounded them. Each armed with spears, swords, and other... close-quarters weaponry. It made Nakala slightly uncomfortable, but obviously, they cared a lot about their so-called Queen. They were lead through two massive wooden doors and then they were marched through the white halls of Exusia. This place looked like paradise to Nakala, with pristine white halls, brand new and spotless furniture... but obviously, this was likely how the Queen liked it.

She heard the familiar sound of scrubbing behind her, and she briefly looked over her shoulder and saw some very well-dressed servants scrubbing up the floor behind them. They were attracting dirt in the halls... and briefly, Nakala wondered if they were doing this of their own volition. While she wished she could help people that are in her situation, but she was no hero. Taking on the monsters of Darington was insane, taking on Exusia was outright suicide.

She sighed as she reached the glorious golden doors of what had to be the Queen. A team of about a dozen knights had to push the doors open and it revealed the Queen's throneroom. A shiny, fancy room with a red carpet leading up to the throne... it was lined with knights as the person sitting in the chair was a woman with a particular smile.

It was the Queen.

"Why hello there!" Tabitha immediately announces, and it makes Nakala nervous. Her tone was very... cheery. Except in a fake, and disingenuous way, much like her owners. The Queen waved a golden fan in her hands, almost like a beckon for them to come. "Why don't you come closer...?"

Nakala swallowed as she sauntered forward, fearlessly. As she walked, she heard one of the knights muttered.

"... What is that Golem doing here?"

Not that it mattered. The Knights were probably on high alert from the Golem, the Kaimerian... and her. Given that, physically, they were the strongest even without weapons. However, if they had a brain they would keep their eyes on the magicians. Nakala never liked magic. The Queen raised her fan, holding it flat towards them.

"That is far enough," The Queen said, she chuckled for one second as she held the fan next to her face. Then she spoke, "You all look like you've been through hell! Is the Lower-Realm really that bad?"

Then she chuckled again.

"I figured it was nasty down there, but let me ask you all a question!" She grandiosely spoke, and Nakala looked to the left, and then to the right. The Knights were standing at attention, and the room went oddly quiet. This was making her nervous, but the warrior remained completely stonefaced.

"... What did you all come here for? Riches, safety... but why? Down there, money is truly worthless when you get down to it."

[Atrophy]

---

---

“No. The Queen wishes to speak with you now."

Hazel’s mouth drew thin. For an alleged utopia, the hospitality in Exusia was just as cold as anywhere in Deadwood and a hundred fold unearned. Hazel formed with the lot as they were marched to the throne room, feeling more and more like a prisoner heading to the judge for sentencing than a guest answering a call to arms. She turned her head and balled her fist as she saw servants cleaning the ground behind them. She wasn’t upset at them but their overseers, so disgusted by the presence of underworld filth that they couldn’t even wait until they were around the corner to start sweeping it away. Hazel fell in step behind Nakala and walked in her footprints to ease the burden of the servants.

Hazel noted the increase in knights on their flanks as they were led through a pair of opulent doors that revealed a line of more knights that led to a throne. Hazel stood tall as they were beckoned in front of the queen. She met Tabitha’s smug smile with a polite one of her own and turned her head ever so slightly so the dry blood caked to one side of it was less upfront. The smile lost its luster but remained as the Queen’s tone flirted the line between teasing and insulting. Hazel closed her eyes and inhaled sharply as the Queen questioned the worth of money in a way only someone who had too much of it could possibly ever think—or was she so disconnected from the world below that she believed they couldn’t even manage currency anymore?

“I don’t really care for riches, but I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t want the chance of some kind of safety,” said Hazel after clearing her throat. The Bone Clans hadn’t been the only people trying to kill her this week. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and continued, “However, my main motivation is to learn from the mages here in Exusia. I’d one day like to use my magic to make life a little better on the, er, Lower Realm, but…” Hazel lowered her head as if she was embarrassed by subject matter. “Anyway, that’s a long ways away.”

Hazel took a step back to allow others the floor.

[The Man Emperor]

---

Azariah Kravchenko

The Bone Sea

---

"Sure about that?...", asked quietly said to the knight who said that they will meet the Queen immediately with a tone of surprise. For such an esteemed monarch, ruling over the greatest city in all of the dead land of Deadwood, she sure didn't mind having an audience with such a scruffy, dirty, and blood stained lot. Either she was fine with facing herself with such a humble group, or she was just in a hurry to get this thing over with.

Or she's really the mad queen everyone says she is.

...

"... What did you all come here for? Riches, safety... but why? Down there, money is truly worthless when you get down to it."

"Well, Your Majesty...", Azariah respectfully bowed to the queen, though his short height meant that he was just making himself even tinier in the sight of the glorious queen of Exusia. "Money is still of value in the Karlezek Enclaves, the realm which I come from, but I do not intend to return to the lands below, as the Deadwood, save for this flying city of magic and perhaps my homeland, is a cesspool of endless chaos and discord. But if I were to choose between the underground dungeons of my people or this citadel in the sky, I'd rather choose to live in the one that is quite literally detached from the troubles of the world below us. And of course, the riches that were promised would be good, if I were to stay in this flying city."

He neglected to mention that he was trying to avoid responsibility back in his home land... because that would just be an embarassing detail to share. Maybe to one of these new companions to his later on, but the queen didn't need to know that.

It's too much...

...

[Maxx]

---

Fourteen followed at the back of the group, his slowness painfully obvious. As he walked, his head swiveled, looking for other golems. He saw two or three of them amongst the crowds, walking to or from tasks with blank determination upon their faces. One carried a large slab of marble like a backpack, not even straining under the tremendous weight. Another laid bricks at a construction site. A third carried a large, ornate palanquin on its back, the rider obscured by thick velvet curtains. These creatures, these long-lost brothers of Fourteen, looked so at peace, so focused and with purpose. He envied them so much that it ached.

Soon, the group entered a pristine white keep and hallways filled with servants, then the throne room of the queen. Fourteen heard the guards whispering about him, but he did not respond. He supposed that if he found it bizarre that he had been trapped in the world below with no purpose, those used to golems having purpose would find it strange for him to be amongst a party of foreigners. He made no sign to show that he had heard. Perhaps if they found a foreign golem strange, they’d find a sentient golem stranger.

The queen graciously granted the party and Fourteen bowed his head. The room was almost pure marble, polished to a shine with a red carpet stretching towards a throne at the back. The queen was eerily beautiful, haunting in her majesty. She looked...familiar to Fourteen, but he was not sure why. He could not recall having ever met her before. The party members took their turns introducing themselves, and soon it came Fourteen’s time. He took a step forward, almost bumping into Nakala, and then knelt to one knee, audibly creaking and crunching as he moved. Once he had settled, he spoke with his impossibly baritone voice:

“Queen Tabitha of Exusia,” he said. “I am Number Fourteen. I have wandered the Deadwood for many months, hoping to find a purpose and order for myself in a place where chaos reigns supreme. I have no memory of who I am and no idea of what task I was made to perform, but I believe I could find that task here in your magnificent domain. I do not wish for gold, but instead for purpose and direction in my existence.”

[Zombiedude101]

---

@Maxx@The Ghost Note

---

The Golem had briefly caught Artur's attention, if only for the fact that it had plainly stated its opinion of him. Though he found it somewhat queer - magical constructs were things that few men encountered in Deadwood, let alone lived to tell the tale. "Aye," he simply answered, though in truth he wasn't sure what to make of Fourteen. "Follow me and you'll do well."

Onwards they stepped, until finally they came to the regal interior which both dwarved snd made a hovel of the only other throne room he'd seen. And Tabitha? The Witch-Queen was no less a surprise - perhaps a part of him expected her to be clad in totems and sigils like some hermit sea witch of the Shattered Isles. But all the same, the regal finery and excess of decorum felt hollow to him. His own experiences as a boy, well before the cusp fo manhood, had taught him to be wary of such places, vipers' nests of plots and court intrugue.

"... What did you all come here for? Riches, safety... but why? Down there, money is truly worthless when you get down to it."

"And yet you've a use for our lot from the Lower Realms," Artur interjected bluntly, "Elsewise you wouldn't have fed your sorceress and her guards to the desert to bring us. Your Majesty." Though the bastard's tone lacked the insolence one might've expected of a sellsword, he never stooped low to kneel or bow, merely offering a forward tilt of the head in acknowledgement of Tabitha's place. Deference wasn't in his nature, though he was wise to recognise just who's guests they were.

"Some of these might want a place in your Kingdom, or riches mayhaps - but I'm a simple man, with simple tastes and I'll ask only for what's mine. The drunken whoreson who sired me named his bastard after a greater grandfather, nothing like the arselicker keeping the dust off our seat."

"I mean to have it back. Swords and spears. I have some wayward bastards of my own for that purpose, but a Queen's favour is one I'm not like to forget." Artur glanced towards the rest of the group, "No less would I forget any other. I am Artur, of the Bastardborn."

[Skai]

---

Kymir finished taking in the grand sight of Exusia before her just as another member of the troupe put their weapon to… sleep. Kym’s eyes glanced over the mecha-creature with a glint of curiosity. It was the first time she’d seen a weapon like that. The user was brave to be so obvious with his magic. Kym didn’t think poorly of anyone who practiced the arts, but she was aware of the reason why the public opinion thought differently. Even so, Kym was looking forward to seeing his weapon in action. Kym noticed the next man in line step up and eye what the owner called a “magishell” with interest as well.

“I don’t… suppose my bird counts as a weapon?”

Kym’s attention was drawn to the speaker, and she took in the sight of the other archer in the room with a light smile. This young woman carried a black bird on her arm and a crossbow as long as her body. Not only that, but the girl was covered from head to toe in paper talismans. Kym’s interest in this group was growing by the second. Each person here seemed to have their own quirk. What better company than the most odd characters in an odd world. Then again, Kym hadn’t expected any normal being to take on such an impossible quest. There was even a giant golem of rock that seemed to move of its own accord, who proceeded to point a small boulder of a finger in the knight-ish man’s direction.

“You. You are a commander of authority. I respect you.”

Was there a natural leader already in place?

It was then that she heard the girl, with the lightest shade of red hair Kym had ever seen, request a moment to freshen up before meeting with her royal highness. Kym’s eyes brightened at the thought of cleaning the sand from her clothes and hair. Perhaps they could even request a bath. Oh, how she yearned for a hot bath and a glass of refreshingly cold water. Could such pleasant things be offered in Exusia to visitors from below?

“No.”

Kymir’s heart felt as if it had been crushed.

“Let us make haste. Tabitha awaits.”

“What kind of royal is named Tabitha, anyways.” Kym muttered to herself as she began to follow the group. When she noticed the nearest knight that surrounded them eye her, Kym simply smiled and tilted her head like she hadn’t said a word. She then turned her head to the side to see who she was walking next to, but found herself looking up at the tallest woman she’d seen since Darington. The woman was busy watching something else, so Kym turned her head towards the exquisite halls before them.

Soon they entered the Queen’s throneroom. Kym had to admit that she was impressed by the Queen’s taste. She was even more enthralled by the woman herself. Pale white skin, most likely as soft as a newborn’s derrière, and a tall head of bright white hair. A ruby red rose sitting perfectly within a line of pearls. The woman’s smile made Kym uncomfortable alone, but it was the way the Queen spoke to them that made Kym’s shoulders tense.

Move closer? Kym didn’t fear the woman, but she had no intention of breathing the same, blessed air as the witch queen. Her feet carefully guided her into the light of her majesty's throne. She stopped before the Queen dared to command her to.

This woman really needs to touch some grass. Kym mused to herself. Surely the grass up here wasn’t real.

“... but why? Down there, money is truly worthless when you get down to it.”

Did she really just say that?

Even after witnessing the glory of Exusia for the first time, Kym was still under the impression that this floating rock was no different than the land below. While Exusia was no doubt safer than the lands of Deadwood, Kym believed that the same dynamics of human, or inhuman, nature thrived here. A class system, racial prejudice, a means of seizing power and keeping it, and above all a master to answer to. This master in particular being a Queen of condescending nature from what Kym had gathered during these few moments. There was no guarantee that the Queen would soften if they returned with the answers she seeked. There was no reason to believe that they would be treated equally if they chose to live out the rest of their days in Exusia either. Perhaps the people would welcome them with open arms, but all of the Queen’s horses, women, and men would think of them as refugees of the lower-realm.

Kym couldn’t think of any way she could find a proper means of living here. In a place as rich as this, the cost of living was surely higher than below. She couldn’t imagine herself living as a maid, a servant, or even worse as a bar wench. She had the highest respect for the women with those roles, but she would never take such a position willingly.

The most pressing argument that Kym had against Exusia was that each citizen answered to the Queen. Kym answered to no one. Her decision to return to Alphos was made long before she stepped foot in the floating city. She would certainly have a target on her back after receiving the Queen’s reward, but she could live a much more comfortable life than before.

Each of the other’s answers were respectfully made. Kym understood why some were choosing to remain in Exusia after their journey. Deadwood certainly was a “cesspool of chaos and discord”, but that was all Kym had ever known. It was still her home, chaos and all.

Kymir nodded with respect to the man who called himself Artur of the Bastardborn. He was the first among them to deny a new life in Exusia, and also the first to let the Queen know that they weren’t amused by her tone. Kym wondered if any of the remaining party members would say the same. Would they think that Artur and herself were absolutely mad for choosing a life down below?

Kym allowed the bastard born man a moment to let his words sink in before she took a step forward. In an act of mutual respect, although she didn’t expect the same from the Queen, Kym bowed her head before she let her eyes look into the Queen’s.

“My name is Kymir. I’ve joined this quest not to live on Exusia, but to live comfortably in the place I’ve called home. I have also wondered what happened to these lands many times before and I hope that we may return one day with that knowledge.”

“I will ask only for the reward of coin. I could also hope that Exusia may consider helping the lands below if the knowledge we return with is to your satisfaction.”

[silvermist1116]

Kai wasn't sure if whatever plan the Kaimerian came up with was working, but the tent fell over just the same, and not a moment later they weren't in Hope Passage anymore. El made scarce and disappeared among the group surrounding them, before flying up and out of sight. The bright sun the glints off the knights' suits burned when one caught them in the eye. 'Ah, fuck.' They shield their sight from the glaring sun. One of the knights, soft spoken as he was, told them to relinquish their weapons and anything they used for magic. Kai handed over their dagger and a few of the bones they collected from the desert. If they get stuck here over night they need to have something on hand for prayer to Khiar-koff or El would have to be sacrificed and they're not making an offering that big.

They tied their jacket around their waist, the scars from their time as a slave noticeable on their lowerback, and followed the group into the palace. They stuck close to the Kaimerian, figuring they might have made somewhat nice with the old crone. Plus it's always best to stick to the strongest person in the room in case everything goes down hill. They didn't come here with the intention of being murdered, then again that's Khiar-koff's decision to make. Just because he saved them during the sandstorm and made their journey to Hope's Passage easy, doesn't mean he won't get rid of them here.

They traveled down a long pure white hallway that glistened like Khym's coins and jewels he spent hours a day cleaning. The the throne room, darker in comparison, yet more ostentatious, was long and the queen sat upon the throne looked like she hasn't lifted a finger in her life. The dress she wore didn't exist in Deadwood. Too hot and not free flowing enough for the nobles that had to flee assassination attempts or fight for their life. Queen Tabitha directed them to come closer, than told them to stop when they were close enough. Kai kept their eyes down and hands behind their back in total deference. Their slave training was still good for something it seemed.

Kai didn't much care for why anyone else was here, besides the Kaimerian. Her people had a whole kingdom they were thriving in. What sense did it make to come to a place like this? When everyone else had their turn, Kai stepped forward, smiling like they were delighted to be here in the presense of someone so great, and bowed.

"My most gracious queen. Thank you for allowing someone as lowly as myself in your presence. My name is Lan and I am here seeking indepence from my father. He is a wealthy man, but none of it is rightfully mine. I wish to have something I earned with my own two hands." As if they didn't bleed and sweat over most of Khym's wealth. Stingy bastard. "I am grateful for the opportunity to serve you." They bowed again, then stepped back in line. They didn't once look the queen directly in the eyes.

[Mixtape Ghost N]

---

Tabitha's Throneroom.

---

Von Bolt Theme Remastered

---

A slight grin formed on Tabitha's face as everyone explained their reasoning for accepting such an insane quest. Nakala only half-listened to most of the explanations only because she didn't want to grow attached... lest they end up the same way as some of the others at the camp. She was more focused on the Queen, and she had to tell herself to keep it cool as the woman really didn't want to suck up to any type of royalty. Especially the kind that likely has slaves or treats the ones who aren't as slaves. However, she wasn't going to shoot herself in the foot either, especially since Queen Tabitha seemed to be the type to fly off the handle at the slightest sign of disrespect. She had to look at everyone else's forms of respect from taking a knee (as the Golem that got a bit too close did), a slight nod (as Arthur did), and bowing (as her short, wordy, friend, did).

However, it was her time to speak after the human girl finished. It was awkward, but Nakala bowed forward and resisted the urge to hurl as the very act made her very sick to her stomach but she was gonna suck it up. She had to do it for Joko.

Anything for Joko.

"Oh, Queen," Nakala tried to pull off an overly cheery and servile tone... however it probably ended up sounding forced and sarcastic. "My daughter was taken by slavers, and I wish to use the wealth you offer in return for buying her freedom... O' [i]gracious/i] one[.]"

In response, the Queen stuck her hand out, and shortly afterward, a servant ran up with a wine glass and ran off... followed by another slaver who came with a bottle of the finest red wine and poured it all into her glass. The Queen gulped it all up in one fell swoop. Before she spoke,

"Some of you are here to help others, some are here for their own personal mission... I can't say there isn't any bad reason for accepting this quest I've put out," She chuckled for a moment before her eyes fell onto the elf-girl. "However, there isn't really much to help down there... as the Karlezek said, nothing but endless chaos! There are better places to use my resources..."

Nakala stood upright as she looked off to the side awkwardly.

"Now that I got your reasoning, I believe that you all are serious about this task! Perhaps you were the right group to ask... but that's what I told the last group! Ohoho!" She laughed briefly, "Just kidding, but perhaps I should explain to you properly what I want, and why?"

Nakala didn't care for why, but what exactly this bitch wanted, however, she quietly played along like the others. Tabitha stuck her hand out again and the wine glass was filled up yet again.

"I was born in the very ruins that became Exusia... back in my time, this was a "cursed" island where all the Witches and wizards were cast-off to. A scattered lot of people that didn't know their potential! And throughout my youth, I used to play in these ruins, and I read the runes and writing on the walls and I was enamored by the stories they told. They were so interesting, yet, at the time I had no idea what they even meant."

She sighed as she finished the wine and placed a hand on her chest and continued. "They were the stories of this world, the past of this land... Alas, they stop short, and there are many gaps of information in them. The kind of gaps I want filled, sweeties. These glyphs speak of other locations which have more stories to tell spread all across the land...."

She trailed off as she rolled her head from one shoulder to the other accompanied by a roll of her eyes. "I think you all are educated enough to get what I'm inferring here... but do acknowledge if you accept this quest you'll be going deep into areas such as New Kaimeria, The Sorrowfields and... Desolation."

She paused.

"... Do you accept?"

[Atrophy]

---

---

Hazel didn’t keep her head lowered in deference for long, lifting it so she could analyze her companions as they all told the Queen their reason for responding to what could turn out to be a fool’s errand. Her eyes betrayed her piqued interest in learning about what motivated the others, although her face showed no signs of judgment as they all spat out their own selfish desires. She failed to hide the amusement on her face when she learned that the man who had begun commanding a defense during the raid was once the leader of the Bastardborn. The Ember Makers would occasionally hire the Bastardborn to help guard a couple of their communal bonfires before, but during her times as a witch hunter she’d never worked alongside a bastard and had certainly never met the greatest bastard of them all.

She was just thankful that not all of them were only in it for their own wants. Kymir had at least attempted to petition the Queen to aid the land below, and Nakala only wanted money to free her daughter. Hazel put her hand over her heart and gave Nakala a sympathetic little frown as she mentioned the fate of her child. How the woman reasoned that this was the best way to get her daughter back was beyond Hazel. Then again, she was not a mother and in Hazel’s experience every mother got attached to at least one outlandish idea, like how ritualistic sacrifice would help your harvest, or how hearsay served as any kind of proof that a child was not a witch, or how willingly bringing a child into this desolate land was anything other than a vicious act of cruelty.

Hands still behind her back, Hazel felt her fist tightened. That last point alone proved that what the Queen said about there not being much to help down below was utter balderdash. Hazel shifted where she stood and cleared her throat as she tried not to formulate an ugly opinion about someone she’d just met, yet she was finding it more and more difficult to not fantasize and see the Queen’s throne as a giant wooden stake surrounded by kindling, the poor wine bearer rushing forward to throw more and more fuel on the fire so that the royal bitch would light quicker. She nodded along as the Queen continued her tale, the visual of the flames catching around her fading at the mention of their destination. Some might think it suicide, but Hazel knew she’d be safer in those places then anywhere else in Deadwood.

“I gratefully accept. I doubt there is one among us who would even think to refuse your most gracious offer,” said Hazel, turning to shoot a cautionary glance at her compatriots. She would be fine if any or all of them thought such a quest was complete lunacy and not worth the endeavor, but prayed they all had enough insight to realize that outright denying the Queen was just as suicidal as stepping into the Desolation. “Now, I’ll admit that you have piqued my curiosity. After we have been shown to our lodgings, would it be possible to examine these glyphs ourselves? It would help to know what to look for once we our on our way.”

[KremeSupreme]

Magdalene did her best to shrink and remain quiet for the duration of the audience. She stood towards the back of the group, as if hoping to hide from the view of the queen; Not at all difficult, given her lacking height. She felt that if she were called upon the best she could manage was a choking stutter. She did not like standing before officials; Especially not the queen of a magical nation who could and wouldn't hesitate to toss anyone who made a scene plummeting to their deaths. As everyone else listed off their own reasons for undertaking this mission -- One that, they still hadn't actually heard of, Magdalene dreaded and worked up courage to state her own goal.

"I want-- To live here. Away from... Dead-- The 'Lower Realms', you said," Magdalene somehow managed to murmur out, letting the conversation quickly eject her afterwards.

Once the group stated their purpose, the Queen finally relayed their quest. At first it sounded simple enough; She wanted them as explorers of sorts, finding ancient information and lore of the world below, hopefully dredging up it's long forgotten history. Their journey would require them to travel across the breadth of Deadwood, but should they succeed, then their desire's would be satisfied. Except, Magdalene knew to read the fine print when it came to accepting a job. The whole deal sounded a bit unfair to them, and nobody else seemed to question the actual job itself. Finding herself inching closer towards the large stone golem for security, Magdalene mustered up the courage to actually talk back to the queen.

"N-Now, hang on, hang on... I uh... That... This mission sounds... a bit fixed against us. We're just-- You want us to travel all across Deadwood, including... New Kaimeria," Magdalene felt a bit too much malice slip into her voice, "and the Desolation? So we can look around for old books and information which might actually exist... Until we find whatever you call to be enough? Wh-Wh-W-What actual insurance can you give that we won't just be wandering around until we fall dead?"

Once she finished voicing her concerns, Magdalene felt dread coil up and rest in the bottom of her stomach, as she called the full attention of the queen to herself.

[Skai]

---

[indent] With her own statement to the Queen concluded, Kym stepped backward to join the group again. As the girl with the crow stepped forwards to say her part, Kymir watched the queen’s stale expression. How could a woman with this much influence and wealth sit upon this throne while her homeland suffered? Kym’s gaze faltered for a moment as she suddenly thought of how the queen had also escaped a difficult life to forge a new one. The biggest difference was that this woman built a new world for herself and her people, while Kymir was trying her best to forget it.

The last to speak stepped forwards. It was the tall woman with the spear. Kymir looked over the forced bow she presented and found herself tracing the scars along her body. She’d seen scars like that before. The woman’s request only confirmed Kymir’s suspicion. Kym felt her heart sink into her stomach. Her right hand clenched into a small fist to keep it from shaking, and suddenly the room felt much warmer. Darington. Slavers. The gladiator arena. Kymir and this woman had grown up in the same city but faced much different horrors. Kym was here for the reward so that she could stay as far away from her past as possible. This woman was here because her past returned to her. Her own request seemed so foolish next to that.

The queen washed this information down with an entire glass of wine. Kymir yearned for a bottle herself, but the fire inside of her stomach now was not from alcohol.

Did this woman ever meet Mikhail? The thought was so sudden that Kymir’s hand relaxed from shock. No… She couldn’t have.

It was that moment when Kymir felt the queen’s gaze upon her. She lifted her eyes just in time to look into the woman’s gaze as she ridiculed Kym’s request. The queen was also running from her past. She too refused to return to it. Kym couldn’t blame her for that. For the fear of what could have been had she not escaped. Yet Kym did not sit upon a throne of influence and wealth such as the Queen of Exusia. Kym could not raise an army devoted to her cause. Kym never had magic on her side.

There was one outcome of this quest that did not seem so bleak. If this group were to succeed, the other woman from Darington had a chance to save her daughter. Kym vowed then and there to help her, no matter the cost. She’d never stood up for the other children at her orphanage, or the children from the streets that went missing in the night. She only had the time to worry about her own survival then; the circumstances were different now. Kymir was confident that she could help, and the first step was to give the Queen what she wanted.

To venture into places like The Sorrowfields, New Kaimeria, and (worst of all) Desolation would sound like a death sentence to any right minded individual. Kym was proud to say that she wasn’t that sort of person. How horrible could these places be after so many years of hiding from the horrors of Darington? Each of these places sounded equally treacherous, except with different types of danger to be wary of. This journey would require immeasurable amounts of stealth, brains, and a skilled hand with a weapon. Kym looked around the room and saw a good amount of each within the group that stood before her. Most of them possessed more of it than Kym herself.

The girl with the copper blonde hair requested to see the glyphs for herself and Kym nodded along. It was doubtful that the queen would allow them a night’s stay on the floating island, but she would be foolish to send them off without showing them what they would be looking for. Kym was personally interested in the information anyways. The queen hadn’t been descriptive enough to satisfy that itch.

The girl with the slouch-- had any of them introduced themselves yet? Kym only knew Artur’s, Lan’s, and Fourteen’s name at the moment. That left four of them with no title of their own except for the description Kym made up for them. She made it a point to ask them their names as the slouched one finished speaking. Kym turned her head to look at the queen. She was curious about the “insurance” as well. Was the queen aware that more glyphs would be found in those lands, or was she sending them off on a gamble? It seemed like Desolation would be the only place that could have more of these glyphs of the past. That is if the cataclysm that occurred there hadn’t wiped them away, or if the people that died there hadn’t had the time to carve them yet. Kym was also doubtful that New Kaimeria would be home to any of this information either. At least not to any information that wasn’t kept under lock and key by the Kaimerians.

“I’d also like to know if you have any information that confirms the existence of more of these glyphs. I also wish to know as much about the history of Deadwood as you can describe. Seeing the glyphs will let us know what we’re looking for, but we should also understand the history if we’re to look for it in other places.” Kym knew the general public knowledge of the creation of Deadwood, but she hoped that the queen would have a bit more insight than most.

"I accept your quest nonetheless."

[silvermist1116]

After hearing the queen's mission, Kai wasn't so sure this was a good idea. They couldn't do recon, no disguises, no routines to learn, no teams to build based on skill sets of their choosing, nothing. Little information and blind faith shit wasn't go south. Fuck. Kai kept their face straight. They can't let the queen or anyone else know they have doubts. They'll need to pray to Khiar-koff twice a day on this journey, because he is the only reason they'll see another sunrise.

"I accept," Kai said. Regardless of whatever the queen said about the mission, Kai's goal is at the end of it and they'll go where they need to. If they live Khiar-koff blessed them, and if they didn't, then they'll be with their god in the afterlife.

Others in the group announced their doubts. Kai stiffened and inched away from them. They clearly remember what happened when someone questioned high authority. The scars on their back was proof enough and they didn't fancy more scars for someone else's screw up. Though they can't disagree with getting more information. The more they knew the better the outcome. What little they could plan, they would. They paid intense attention to the queen's answer, planning to write everything down in their notebook later and forging a plan from it. They can't predict everything, especially traveling into New Kaimeria, the Sorrowfields, and Desolation. The latter being the place of death and nothing else. Khiar-koff might bless them for traveling to such a waste land and living to tell all they've seen.

[Maxx]

---

Fourteen listened intently to the others. There were a variety of motivations his compatriots held: money, vengeance, safety, knowledge, charity, freedom, independence. Fourteen sympathized with none of them, but nonetheless listened and agreed they were justifiable desires. There was one within the group who asked something strange of the queen, a woman with black hair and pointed ears. As a matter of fact, Fourteen hadn’t even remembered her appearing, though he was quite distracted in the fight. Unlike the others, she wanted Exusia to help the land below. Fourteen had never considered this angle- the world below just seemed too hostile and too chaotic to help, and Tabitha seemed to share that feeling. He wondered if the city even could] help Deadwood, or if figuring out the purpose of the Calamity would allow them to change anything. Fourteen had wandered a long time and seen a lot of suffering- nothing short of burning Deadwood to the ground and rebuilding seemed sensible.

The queen spoke, and Fourteen listened. She made a reasonable demand- find some glyph-covered stones, record their information, report back. Some of the party seemed intimidated, but not Fourteen- he felt exhilarated, more than he could ever remember being. Now, he had a direction, a single task to accomplish, and that fit into his mind like a gear clicking into place. It didn’t matter that the places Tabitha wanted them to go were dangerous- Fourteen would complete the task and if he died along the way so be it. Life meant nothing without purpose.

”I accept,” Fourteen said, remaining on one knee with his head bowed. "I shall do whatever is necessary to accomplish this task."