[IC] The Relics

[Maki Casanova]

Kaiden felt his vibrations pick up, amidst the tremors of lumbering footsteps, drunken skipping, and leisurely walking, the presence of his wooden cane he thought he had lost earlier during his small moment of complete vulnerability. He dodged all the drunks and inattentive passerby and swept the wooden handle off of the cement floor. He gestured for Lenard and Tran to follow while pretending to be “legitimately” blind, but not entirely helpless by tapping the end of the stick around his surroundings.

A few disgruntled people lobbed rude comments and mildly irritated, one word warnings towards him, but he paid them no attention as he pursued his goal forward. We must deliver these goods and make way with the gold back to base.. I don’t want Irene giving me an earful again. The thought sent shivers down his spine, as his mistress Irene had more… unorthodox ways of punishment. He looked back on the many times she’s pounded men into submission through her intimidating yet seductively dexterous ways; he couldn’t imagine the kind of shame and humiliation his comrades at home would feel if she publicly announced their masochistic pleasures.

If there was one thing that he admired her for, it was her resourceful and indiscriminate cunning that put her thousands of miles higher than most bandit leaders. He smiled in her memory; she was a harsh and emotionally inept woman, incapable of showing any generally accepted form of affection or warmth. This posed as a surprise for many who come to know her, as she possessed the feisty, arrogant, and blatant lack of awareness for personal space or privacy. “From the time you join until the day you day, what’s mine is mine, and what’s yours… IS ALSO MINE!” She bellowed the moment eleven year old Kaiden proved himself worthy of Leviathan enlistment. He flashbacked to his young, innocent self’s thoughts and feelings of strong yet hesitant defiance. What a big meanie.. I can’t believe I’m going to be here for life! He thought back then while his eyes stung with the initial onslaught of tears. She looked down at him with this unbelievably deep scowl and furrowed, scarlet eyebrows, and snarled threateningly, “What? Got a problem with that, midget?” The boy hesitated at first, his mind blank with intimidation and heavy fear, and mouth violently quivering in an almost sob. He missed his home, his family, his friends, everything, everything he just wanted to leave and run away and never return and…

There was a sudden calm that quelled the rise of his intense emotions. He looked at her with the pitifulness of a suffering child, letting their eyes lock gazes for a good couple of seconds, before he asked meekly, “Can I at least keep the candy..?” She looked at him with an expression that spelled offended astonishment: unquivering, curved lips, hardened, condescending eyes, and an upturned chin that towered her pride and might. The child feared he asked too much and stepped out of line too early when his pings painted a set of unforgiving features, but then she let out a small sigh, and he could almost physically feel the lines of her face morph into a more relaxed yet exasperated expression.

“Fine, the candy stays with you.. We can even make a contract, a bandit ‘code of honor’ you could say.” Kaiden pondered upon the apparent irony of this, wrinkled his nose in confusion, and tilted his head to the side in natural, child-like curiosity. “You guys have ‘honor’? I don’t think it’s very honorable to threaten to kill someone, or steal their stuff.. I think you guys have that word wro-“ And there it was, that signature steely, “no bullshit or I will rip you apart” glare that remained a fairly obvious sign of Irene’s deadest serious mood. He felt the sudden shift so strongly that immediately clamped his mouth shut and didn’t bother saying another word for the rest of the night unless spoken to. “Everything has honor, as long as you do it OUR WAY, the Leviathan way,” she enunciated with the utmost, exaggerated clarity, and let her sword gleam under the moonlight for extra assertion. If our way means being a bunch of lying, cheating scumbags, I don’t think I want to be a part of all that.. he thought glumly to himself as he felt the tremors of her footsteps take their stride back to her throne.

Ah, how the times have changed, he said to himself in a non-chalant, oddly fond tone with a gentle, reminiscing smile. If it seemed like he didn’t possess any sort of attachment to his crew, he could at least say that he somewhat cared for his lady boss in this sort of chill, subordinate way. So much did his mind float about in the land of remembrance that he accidentally bumped into a lady of absolute, golden beauty – almost in the literal sense, too, with her wavy, golden hair. “Watch it,” she growled fiercely, and slid her arms across each other in an act of unapologetic defiance of petty social norms. He liked that, that fiery, deviant attitude that gave him thrills and excitement all over. “Oh, I do apologize. I didn’t quite see you there,” Kaiden said in a deep, breezy voice that he intended to ooze with charm, and leaned backwards while putting his weight on one foot to position himself in a more cool, charismatic light. He tightened the red band around his eyes, hoping that she would appreciate the humor in his statement and take notice of his attempts to charm her.

He had the portrait in his mind now: a voluptuous, sensual body, clothing that hugged yet teased at the sensuality of the bare skin… He knew better, however, than to open his mouth and complement her appearances right off the bat; that would give away some pretty suspicious notions. He set his wooden baton to the side and reached out a hand slightly towards Lavika in a small offer of friendship, companionship, and maybe more in the future. “My name is Kaiden, and these are my two lumbering nannies, Lenard and Tran. You’re free to ignore them, as they like to do their own things on their own accord.” He leaned in closer, purposefully closing the distance a little too much as their noses almost touched and their lips a mere two inches away. “Stuck in their habits, these boys are, y’know?” He straightened himself up and smiled, knowing his invasion of her small, personal space will spice her up even more. God, I really love feisty women like this.. He thought as a slight hint of a daring smile curled up on his lips as he faced her way. Suddenly, Tran called over from the entrance of an alleyway, hollering about some inhuman snarls emanating from deep within. Lenard expressed his concerns too, shuffling over to the side of his companion, but Kaiden simply waved it away, and laughed. “Just relax guys, we’re here to celebrate, trade and have fun, so I’m pretty sure some hound masters are getting their pets into shape. Don’t worry about it so much, you pansies, you’ll get your booze fix later.” Damn, did he hate it when new recruits ruined his smooth moves by interrupting with stupid, asinine shit that were none of their business.

[LiverisGood]

"Phew! I'm stuffed!" Amy exclaimed to no one in particular. Her belly filled, Amy already felt much of her tension lifted away from her body. Standing up, she whistled at her men, indicating that they were to finish up and be ready again for patrols within the minute.

She whistled once more. "Come on men, we're beginning our rounds again!"

Amy led her troops out of the inn. Flyers of an upcoming tournament were handed out. Amy took one and began to read through it. As her men began to turn the corner, she spotted the blind man not too far away. This time, he appeared to be chiding someone, a companion perhaps. Whatever the matter was, there was an urgent look on his companion's face.

"Doesn't look serious enough to intervene," she thought to herself as she came closer to them. "Any of you want to stop by today's tournament if we have the time?" she asked.

"It sure beats walking around all day," replied a soldier.

[Sundered Echo]

‘Oiy! Where ye fucker go?”

Roan’s white eyes slid down, his keen sight took in the sight of the five men below and their puzzlement for a moment. They hadn’t noticed the bloody cross of hand and paw prints that scaled up the smooth stone, the fingers nitched into places and easily aided his high jump. Still studying the thugs below, he made a slight disgusted snort. His belongs, thankfully, had been brought up with him yet now he didn’t care. Anything not attached to his waist had easily slipped off or was discarded while Roan moved across the flat roof toward the city center. Wisps of his shredded shirt fell from his fur, discarded and forgotten alongside his things. His ears and head rotated, jerking in one direction then another without a moment to rest. Horse...people, and more filled them with such ferocity it hurt. He whimpered a bit.

His tongue licked his snout, suddenly filled by the scent of shit, horses, and more before a key scent caught his attention. It smelled like something...familiar. A single word flickered across his mind that both animal and man understood well enough: home. Leaving his things behind, Roan’s muscles tensed and made a burst of speed across the roof tops toward the scent’s origins.

---

The door shut quickly behind her - almost too quickly. The ambassador was a boring man to speak to, always choosing his words exactly to turn every phrase to his favor, but doing so in a way that both frustrated Alessia and almost made her want to go to sleep. He was not particularly happy with her handling of the Inquisitors - flaunting her diplomatic power as she did for the sake of a random commoner who seemed to possess some kind of relic. She had not been looking forward to the diplomatic briefing as it was, but this just made it terrible. Too many of her fellow Kalesians seemed to forget that every individual had a place in the empire, and that every one of those was equally as important as the others.

She made her way quickly to the courtyard, Lydia hot on her tail. She would be able to relax and regain her composure away from the diplomat. Today was to be an enjoyable day after all, and she needed to look her best.

Roan’s muscles rippled with energy as his nose filtered through the odors wafting within his senses. The city scents were struggling to overwhelm each other, the musky odors of humans and beast alike mingled with food, stale air, and more seemed to swell within his mind where he struggled to sift through it all. Most of it foreign and unfamiliar, making him cringe at the realization he didn’t like that conception much. His ears twitched about seeking sounds while his body caused some birds to take flight, their feathers scattered, making him halt suddenly. Every part of him went still as a statue. His eyes darted about and coordinated eerily well for farther sights or sounds.

Nothing.

He snorted again, his nose slightly pained by the many aromas then took a moment to center on one: Home. Again the word drew something within him. A deep, warm feeling that started to drive the beast forward. His paws slapped the roof tops while he scaled them easily, his body crunched and jumped across the gaps until he had reached the Embassy. He was on the roof when movement caught his vision. Roan jerked his head toward the courtyard to see two figures below his perch, their lithe figures seemed to aggressively seek the refuge of the courtyard because one slowed then stopped. He inhaled, lowering his nose into their direction. It wasn’t hard for his nose to pick up the gentle and distinct female aroma of the pair after several moments. A slight pleased growl erupted from his throat. The sound vibrated and filled his muzzle, softening it even. Slowly, his paws stirred. His blunt claws tapped the rooftop while he stalked toward the lowest section where he could begin his descendant downwards. His mind tittered on primal need and human reasoning.

Alessia’s shoulders rose and fell as she breathed deeply of the foreign air. The smells of this city were very different to where she had come from, and it helped her focus on the good things. She was half way across the known world! The things she would see today at the festival! Diplomacy and politics could wait, today she would enjoy herself, and rest easy knowing she had saved an innocent from a great deal of unpleasantness at the hands of the Idris inquisitors. With that, she took one last look out the gates and turned around. She still had to see to the young woman she had saved before she could depart for the festival.

Roan’s muscles coiled and jerked out to bring him ever closer. His agility and grace combined with his strength made the climb down easier for him than it would’ve been for any human. Within minutes he was leveled with Alessia’s smaller figure, sided by her companion, as she turned to retreat within the insides of the building. Roan’s instinct knew if she did then she was lost to him. His lips peeled back, the white fangs revealed in a snarl at the thought. His forearm gripped the roof’s edge where the rest of him hung low, in a fashion he had seen monkair’s do, as his hind legs tensed with energy. Just when his prey was within range, Roan’s figure shot off the roof right at Alessia.

At the last moment, Lydia glanced around and caught sight of the leaping wolf-man. She threw herself into the air to get between her charge and the monster - to no avail. Caught unprepared, she was knocked aside by the superior bulk of the beast, hitting the ground hard enough to leave her winded. Alessia barely had time to turn and face the sound before she found herself knocked down, her face a rictus of terror. A terrible beast of fur and fangs loomed over her, and she would have screamed if she had not had the air knocked out of her in the fall. Was this the end? To be brutally killed by a ravening beast appearing from nowhere?

Everything was a blur. It seemed so surreal and passed by so fast that Roan’s human mind barely registered it, almost completely lost in the watery subconscious of the wolf’s instinct since he ascended the rooftops. Now only the subtle throbbing on his shoulder stood out after his impacting against Lydia who was easily casted aside. His fingers spread instinctively and braced, ready to absorb most the sting when his hand like paws hit the stone ground and pinning the dark haired woman onto the ground. Her body, thin and petite, trapped under his thicker limbs while his black nose lowered to her cheek. The wet, bumped surface tenderly touched the skin and inhaled the scent. It was a slow action. Savoring it almost while his white eyes shifted to spot her companion’s thinner figure had crashed to the floor and settled there, winded from the fall.

His head whipped back to take Alessia’s image in again. Not much had changed, his lips pulled back to give a wolfish smirk, from the slight tan on her pale skin to the dark hair just below her shoulders. He could even feel her body was the same slender figure yet there seemed some muscle adding to her curves. His heart thumped heavier and faster, his ear perks while his jaws lowered to her collarbone. His nose made delicate sniffs, following the curve upwards then once more hovered over her cheek. Slowly his jaw opened revealing several gleaming and sharp fangs to her sight, a dark colored tongue reached out.

Slllurrrppp!

A wet trail glided from the cheek bottom up to Alessia’s eyebrow, followed by another. His tail started to whip back and forth in a dog like wagging. His eyes closed and continued to lick, ignoring any attempt to push him off or Lydia’s rise.

Pinned as she was, Alessia could only look on in fear as the monstrous muzzle of the beast moved close to her face, snuffling loudly and looking over her body… Why? She realised with some degree of shock and a lot of relief that, despite being at the things mercy, she was still very much alive. When the beast opened its mouth, revealing a vicious row of teeth, a second pang of fear shot through her and she squirmed to escape - only to find that instead of closing teeth around her neck, a thick wet tongue was suddenly slurping across her face, much like far smaller dogs back home did when they were happy. She was extremely confused, and could only lay there and wait it out.

Lydia, however, was faster to recover. Springing to her feet and pulling the concealed dagger from the folds of her skirts, she hesitated only to shout for the guards before rushing forward and aiming the short blade at the beasts back, striking with all her might in a two handed stabbing motion.

Roan had just pulled back to smile another wolfish grin when movement caught his attention. His head snapped to the side just when Lydia’s blade sank below the fur and into the meat of his back. Heat followed by pain flared through his being causing Roan to yelp. Warmth leaked from his wound and caused his arm to lash out, likely knocking the woman away from him. He pulled off of Alessia quickly. His eyes narrowed and teeth exposed in a harsh snarl. His skin underneath hadn’t been able to heal as the blade was still in embedded in out of his arm’s reach. Roan whimpered with each movement yet returned to snap his jaws at Lydia, his fur bristled upright. Slowly he started to move around Alessia only to hear the sounds of more approaching, their steps first then shortly their bodies came in brandishing spears and swords at the woman’s earlier cry.

Alessia was still confused when she heard the sickening sound of a blade piercing flesh. Lydia had recovered quickly, and, true to form, was going out of her way to protect her charge. Had she still not been confused and afraid, she would have swelled with pride at the loyalty displayed by her servant and bodyguard. Alarm filled her when she saw Lydia easily swatted aside by the wolf-man, though it was quickly replaced by relief when her servant rolled and came up on her feet, a little unsteady, but evidently still ready to charge to her mistress’ defence. Fortunately, she did not have to, as the guards of the Embassy quickly arrived, their burnished mail and polished helms shining in the morning sunlight. Despite the beast moving away from her a little, she remained prone though still looking around. The swiftness of it all had left her dazed and stunned.

Blood seep farther into the fur, matting it slightly where the blade was deeply lounged. Roan’s nostrils overpowered by the scent and his eyes widen in anger as well fear, teeth still bared at the one who hurt him even after the others had arrived. Pain rippled through his muscles causing him to winch at the movement back. Too many. He felt the need to flee claw at his instinct, trying to get him to run, while his shaggy head twisted to Alessia. A gut wrenching feeling seemed to bury itself inside. Slowly the men started to advance forcing themselves between Roan and Alessia. Their weapons out and pointed into his direction, Roan’s clawed hand jerked out to swiped only to meet steel when the spear lashed out to counter. Distracted by the first, one of them darted in and nailed him in the side.

He howled in pain.

His cry shrill and suffering, fresh blood pitter pattering upon the stone. The spear snagged on the belt causing it to tear free, crumbling near his hind paws, before his body twisted about. His handlike paws raised onto the wall closest to the outside of the Embassy and his only path to escape. His ears pinned back to snap at an edging spear lingering too close. With what energy was left within his body, Roan’s legs curled then snapped upward. His muscles burned during the pulsing energy while the breeze of his freefall brushed his fur against his thick form. Moments later his foot paws slammed into ground and finally vanished down the nearest alleyway, gone from sight. Leaving only a small trail of bloodied prints betraying his escape route.

As soon as the beast fled, Lydia rushed to Alessia’s side “Are you alright my lady?” She said urgently. Alessia began to push herself to her feet, taking the hand quickly offered by her servant. “I…” She began. The whole thing had shaken her quite severely. “I’ll be alright…. Just… Just give me a moment.” Alessia took a deep breath, forcing herself not to shake from the tumultuous emotions swirling within. She had so many questions - who, or what, was that? Why had it simply licked her instead of taking the chance to kill a Kalesian dignitary? Were the Idrisites involved? Of course she could get no answers right now.

Though still inwardly shaken, Alessia put on her best noble airs, to at least appear like she had recovered. She looked around the courtyard, noting the bloody trail away - she could get the men to follow it, but did not believe it worth the risk right now. She also noted a small pouch lying on the ground not far from her. She stepped over to it and bent to pick it up, noting the poor state of her clothing as she did so - the beasts blood had splattered on her skirt a little, and she was covered in dust. She examined the bag in her hand for only a moment - it somehow seemed familiar, but she could not quite place it. Perhaps after she had had a quick bath and changed into clean clothes she would be calm enough to remember - and attend to her countless other duties for the day. With that, she immediately proceeded back inside the embassy, there was a lot to do and little time to do it in.

[Ellri]

Collab between Sundered Echo and Ellri. Involving Angie nic Cuán & Alessia In the background as she got dressed, Angie heard some strange noises she could not quite place, intermixed with human shouting. After she finally got the clothes figured out, she started walking towards them. Considering that the structure was quite unfamiliar to her, it was a wonder she did not get completely lost there. There was a strange buzzing to the air, it tingled at the back of her head, as if familiar, yet not quite so. She realized she really wanted to figure it out. By chance, she got to a window facing the main courtyard of the Kalesian Embassy shortly after the stranger of the noises stopped. All that remained was the agonied moans and the faint scent of freshly spilled blood. She looked out the window and saw that there were bloodstains upon the ground in the courtyard. Alessia was on her way to her quarters to collect new clothes before bathing when, turning a corner, she walked almost straight into the young evoker she had rescued earlier, Angie. She seemed to be looking out at the courtyard, likely wondering why there were bloodstains suddenly in a trail to a wall. It would not do to scare the poor girl into thinking the people she was seeking sanctuary with were really monsters behind the kindly visage, though, after everything she had been through, Alessia considered it likely that this Angie would believe the truth. “Angie.” She began softly, so as not to startle the girl. “You are looking much better now. Do the clothes fit well?” She didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “This has been quite the day, and its only just beginning. Is living in Amaryth always this… exciting?” “Exiting? Normally hardly anything happens. What happened down there?” she asked, still curious. She saw that Alessia had some strange stains on her dress. Idly she noted that Alessia’s dress was of fairly similar design to the one provided to her, though with a longer skirt. Sniffing the air, she caught the feeling that something that was like a hound yet different and more had been near Alessia. She had never before smelled anything like it, nor been told of any such being by the hounds of the city. Alessia paused for a moment, she thought about telling the girl to wait until she had changed, she really wanted to get out of this outfit now that it had blood on it, but thought better of it. “I was attacked… or, well, I think I was, by a beast that appeared to resemble a wolf that could walk. I have never seen its like. The Guards drove it away, but though their valor is appreciated, it would seem I owe my life to the beasts whim. It chose to lick me instead of biting.” It sounded somewhat ridiculous after she had said it, and she wondered if perhaps she might have been better off with a calculated lie. “A Two-legged wolf? That’s odd.” Angie answered, once again sniffing the air. She leaned over and breathed the scent on Alessia’s dress deeply in, so that she could without a doubt recognize it in the future. If it appeared once, she figured it might do so in the future too. “What happens now? I can’t leave the embassy, right?” Alessia inwardly cringed at the idea of Angie now sniffing at her, but did not let it show. The girl probably found the scent of the wolf-thing intriguing anyway. “No, not while you are still an Othean. Not if you wish to be safe from the Inquisitors. There is a way, that you could be safe though. Not just now, but always.” Safe from the inquisitors at least, Alessia thought. “But it will be a sacrifice as well.” She waited for a response then, to gauge the girls reaction. “Oh?” she answered, quite intrigued. She truly had no idea what that way could be, and the promise of permanent safety from the inquisitors certainly sounded like a good thing. She’d heard stories in the past about those inquisitors, but had never truly believed in them. The fact that the local chapter of Idris had been the family’s main customers probably explained most of the doubt. You don’t want to believe the worst about your family’s primary customer. “With my recommendation -” Alessia began. “You could become a citizen of the Kalesian Empire. Kalesia does not recognise the Idris laws and will not allow them to be applied to its citizens. But what am I saying? We cannot have you making life changing decisions while loitering in a corridor. Come, I’ll explain what this would mean for you on the way to one of the towers, then you can think about it while I go and change. How does that sound?” As she finished she gently began to lead Angie to the closest of the Embassies towers - ostensibly guard towers, though this one had been outfitted for viewing and general use too, as apparently the resident ambassador liked to spend his spare time above everyone. “Become Kalesian? Is that possible?” Angie answered a bit skeptically. She listened closely as she followed Alessia through the embassy and eventually coming to a long series of narrow stairs that spiraled upwards. Though the stairs were cramped, they passed several doors on the way up, eventually coming out to a surprisingly large room. She saw a large table in the middle of the room, whereupon rested a huge sheet of parchment, which Angie guessed depicted some sort of map. She barely knew how to read the simpler kingdom runes, let alone long texts or maps. However, before she could give that more thought, she saw the window. It was not as if windows were new to her, but rather that she’d never seen one facing anything but equally tall or taller buildings across narrow streets. The view out of this window was incredible. She could see more of the city than she’d ever seen before, even the wilderness and forests outside the city walls. She did not know how long she stood there, simply staring out the window. Alessia looked at the girl staring in wonderment at the expanse of the city, reminded of how she had felt the first time she had seen her home from up high. She was younger then, of course, but then, even now it was impressive. She put a hand gently on Angie’s shoulder to get her attention before speaking. “The most important thing to think about right now, is that if you become Kalesian, you will be expected to make use of your abilities, your evocation I mean, to serve the Empress, may she live forever. I’ll let you stay here and admire the city while I go and change. I will be back soon.” Angie only paid half-attention to Alessia’s words until the hand touched her shoulder. With reluctance, she turned about for a moment to listen. “Ok, I will think on it.” After the Kalesian left, Angie turned back to the window, not really looking at anything specific as her thoughts churned. She had never had any hesitation about using her abilities in the past, it was not as if she could truly turn them off after all. She missed her family a little, but knew that for their sakes that she could not have done anything differently. If it meant survival, she would have no problem serving that foreign empress. It was not as if the Othean nobility and royal family had ever done anything for her and hers. Thinking back, she even realized that they had done much the opposite, giving the Order of Idris nearly free reins. Her grandfather, before he died seven years earlier, had told her of how tolerant the King had been when he was young. How the Order had not had any influence to speak of back then. It wasn’t a decision to make lightly, but she knew without a doubt that she had already made it. She would take the Kalesian’s offer when she returned. Having wasted no time at all in freshening up, Alessia made her way quickly back to the tower, a new and different set of clothes now adorning her figure. She found Angie just where she had left her, and after allowing the girl just a moment more to look out at the city, spoke once more. “Angie.” She said to get the girls attention. “Have you thought on your answer? There is no rush to decide, the Embassy will let you stay for a few days without a decision but if we can get the formalities over with today, you may yet get to go to the festival.” “I have made my decision. The Kingdom of Othea has not offered me anything that is of more value than what you say Kalesia offers. My old grandfather, who is dead now, said it used to be different before the Order of Idris came, but the kingdom is not what it was back then. I will gladly accept the offer.” This time, she sounded very sure. There was no doubt in her voice now. A smile crept over Alessia face at the resolve present in the young girls voice, and it seemed she had also found a good degree of eloquence too. “Then it is my honor to inform you that you are now a citizen of the Kalesian Empire. There are several formalities to finalise the affair, but they will not take long.” Unbeknownst to Angie, her comment helped spur on Alessia in her belief that the Kalesian plan was justified. She only hoped the girl’s loyalty proved as strong as her enthusiasm. “Thank you.” she answered, a bit curious about exactly what the formalities entailed. Had she been more imaginative, she would no doubt have imagined all sorts of horrible ceremonies, but she wasn’t all that imaginative. Instead, she simply smiled.

[Fallenreaper]

Roan felt his body ripple with the energy when he hit the ground below. The landing's very vibration shook his frame and sent a rush into his limbs causing Roan to rear upward. His hind legs coiled and balanced underneath, his right paw braced against the wall to gain a sense of where he had plummeted. The wolf's back roared in pain causing him to snarl when someone approaching caught his attention. The blade twisted deeper into his fur and increased his suffering, causing a fresh wave of warmth to drip down his torso. In moments it absorbed into the ground and vanish from sight.

At his abrupt drop, several people had stopped in their tracks. Their heads turned to see the creature which had leapt from the wall’s high point and now stood among them. Eyes, some curious and most frightened, looked onto his large form that now stood out sending quite a number instinctively stepping back half a step. In the light, Roan’s dark fur seemed to reflect none making him more demonic then he really was. Suddenly a woman screamed. Roan’s lips pulled back and snarled reflexively in reply. Already his vision had become blurred, the human like shapes fuzzy and irritating in his mind, his aggressive actions made them start to rush away. Again, he growled at the nearest one following it with a loud snap of his jaws. The young man was sent reeling back. His things were crushed underneath as he scrambled back to his feet, haste made to avoid the now angry thing. Fear of Roan's maw sinking into him driving the lad, and many others, into a panic. Shortly several men, women and children had started to rush away which only made him more unease.

It was fortunate the knife held firmly within his back. Else Roan would’ve noticed the hunger, a deep, primal need, clawing at him. Already that goat he had consumed had faded a while ago, leaving a void where it once sat within his middle. In addition, his continual transformation from man to beast hadn’t helped his condition. In fact, his prior actions merely worsened it. His fur bristled in alarm while he noted more fuzzy shapes began to pull back causing him to whip his head behind. There was an empty alley behind him. Gingerly, he turned around in place and dropped to all fours. Wasting little time, he then jerked forward, his body rushed quickly down the isolated alleyway. Unknowing where his instincts drove him or in his fear, caring where save for being far from here.

Roan didn't know how long he had ran, not even recall the distance he travel. All he knew, was that he felt heavy and cumbersome. Completely exhausted by the end of it. For a moment, his ears could only hear the dripping sound of his own blood hitting the ground, leaving droplets behind in a wobbly path. His body flared from each motion his full out running form had made earlier, the muscles ached and jerked, his tissue unable to mend the damage in his back. At not while the blade was still inside him. Already his strength had started to wane.

Where his paws landed became more awkward, tripping him slightly before they entangled and he tumbled forward. Immediately he landed into an abandoned crate. The wooden box creaked and splintered, collapsing instantly from the beast’s weight leaving his form to settle onto it. Unable to move anymore, the only signs of life was his chest rising in labored breaths. Already his vision was surrounded by blackness creeping into it, alarming both man and beast inside. His eyes flickered yet he barely had any energy to move, his bones, flesh and fur had already started to melt back into his original state. His snout became shorter, pressing into his face where his canine shrank back into size, the black nose once more colored white and normal again. For a second time, his right arm, now bare and furless, weakly reached for the blade fixed in his back. He felt his fingers touch and gently, he tugged. His reward was immediate pain washing over him. It wrench in his body making him regret his attempt to pull it free. Not longer able to stand the pain, he admitted defeat. His hand retreated, coming back empty and redden by his efforts.

Something move, his head jerked upward in worry just to relax. A stray dog had wandered close by, its nose sniffed the area loudly and drew close, pressed it softly to Roan's cheek. He fought not to flinch at the coldness touching his skin as his hand reach weakly for the hound’s narrow head, stroking the fur gently with his fingers. The man smiled weakly then felt himself begin to fade out. His hand fell back upon his side when a new sound made the hound’s head jerk to attention. It made a soft growl in warning and finally took off down the alley where Roan had come from. By the time the hound’s tail had faded, Roan could hear something large approach. He was uncertain if this stranger or whatever would stop and pay him mind or merely move on, part of him didn't care either way.

Roan forced himself to keep awake, though it wouldn't be for long. Though the blade had managed to stopper most of the blood loss, he still felt weak and dizzy from what was already gone and tried his best to sit up. He felt the dagger pushed against making him bite back a whimper, his voice filled by an accent that announced his origins within the Kalesian Empire, his tone sounding hoarse even in his own ears when he spoke. "If you aim on killing me...then I suggest you just keep moving because it's easier to come back later. Namely after I'm dead."

He shifted and again, reaction outside his control reached his mask."Ahhhh, damn it."

[Fallenreaper]

-snip-

[Freeshooter92]

Markul had lost track of the stranger when he had emerged from the underground... It seemed that he wasn't the sort to stick around for long... though he supposed he should be thankful he didn't try to stab him in the back. He had found himself in some sewer system, and had somehow managed to fit his massive bulk through a manhole cover in an alleyway in what appeared to be a city...

He wandered the city for a good while, altogether unimpressed. It wasn't all that different from how things were in his time, save a million odd cultural things he didn't quite understand. However, he had managed to play his odd accent as being foreign fairly well, since nobody he came across was learned enough to place his accent as archaic. It was... relaxing to wander the place as a commoner. Well, sort of. People gave him a wide berth in general. He had been sure to keep his relic out of sight, for fear of whatever death squads this time had ready for him...

It wasn't long before he noticed a commotion... He saw a black blur for a split second, near an awfully panicked crowd. He sighed, making his way over there. Judging from what the townsfolk were saying, it seemed some monster had sped down the alleyway, wounded. He sighed again, he supposed he could take care of it. He was the only one in the immediate vicinity remotely capable of dealing with something like what they were describing, and while it wouldn't wash away his sins he figured a good deed wouldn't be too much to bear. He walked down the alleyway, sword at the ready as there wasn't room for his flail.

He came across a man in a crate not long after. Man was a bit of a stretch. It was more like a mutating half-beast that was taking on the shape of a man... So, an evoker. He was covered in blood, likely from wounds considering his current bearing, which explains why he hadn't been spotted yet. He sighed, stepping forward as he put his blade away. The man spoke, and he found his unidentifiable accent infuriating. So many strange culture's he'd have to discover, what nonsense. "If I had wished to slay you I would have attempted so already." He said calmly. "We best get you to an apothecary."

[Ellri]

Stevan Vlahovic moved with resolute purpose out of the palace after the disastrous audience with the king. With the King's departure, the crowd near the palace had scattered once more. Considering the black expression upon Stevan's face, nobody of the few left were foolish enough to remain in his path. He turned right onto the road following the outer castle walls, then took the second left, heading past the grand arena. He had no doubts that there were some truly magnificent blood sports either going on there right now, or about to start, for there was a veritable crowd of citizens flooding its entrances. Had he been in a different mood, he would probably have joined them. Blood sport might not have the finesse or precision of torture, but it the cheering audience more than made up for that. The mood in such arenas was often throbbing with malice and glee. “lovely places...” he muttered, then kept walking straight ahead, past the great market and down to the inner city's western gate. Once through that gate, which he absently noted only held a handful of guards, he entered the Sanctum of Idris right across the road. Not only were there a good gathering of other priests within, but he saw many citizens of Othea going about their worship. It pleased him to see that some at least in this godforsaken place had seen the light. Lightly scattered among the priests and citizens were other inquisitors like himself, dressed in the same dark blue robes as he. Some, the more experienced ones in particular, he nodded respectfully to. The rest, he ignored. They were unworthy of his attention. He moved just as resolutely through the halls, and here everyone moved out of his way far more quickly than outside. Nobody in their right minds obstructed an inquisitor of Idris in his place of power. Not more than once, at least. He knew precisely where to go. Deep down. Into the bowels of the sanctum, past several heavily guarded doors. The doors, as befitted his high rank, were opened well before he even got close. Soon he found the massive stairs at the sanctum's core. As before, he did not hesitate, taking them two steps at a time. When he was eight levels down below the ground, he reached the bottom. Where the walls above had been polished green-veined marble, here they were of a quite different stone. Here everything was different. The corridors narrower, the ceiling higher. The guards up above had been armed with halberds, their swords sheathed at their waists. Here, they were armed far more heavily, with their weapons drawn. Aside from the single pair facing the stairs, everyone else faced inwards, guarding the outside from what lay within. That, he knew, made perfect sense. This structure dated back to the days of the Old Kingdom, the evil nation that had created the accursed relics in the first place. It had, he'd been told, been built to contain rogue evokers. Of course, these days, all evokers were rogue. Which was why the Order was trying to open up as many of these prisons as possible. It was too bad, he mused, that they had not been able to find any pattern into how people became evokers in the first place. It would have been so much easier to kill them all off if such a pattern had been clear. He moved past more than two score empty cells, stopping before a single cell wherein an Othean woman a few years younger than him was chained. The chain was locked around her neck, stretching up to the middle of the roof. Like the bars making up the door, the chain and collar were made of a blue-tinged metal. It pleased him how the chain was just long enough for her to sit down with a modicum of comfort, but not so long as to allow her to lay down on the floor. Like all prisoners of the Order, she was only dressed in a fairly short smock made of cheap, brown cloth. Upon noticing him, she immediately stood up, running forward as if trying to strangle him. He could see orange-red veins all over her skin pulsating, but thanks to whatever dampening effects were imbued into the prison and the chains, there was nothing more than that. Had she not been chained up, he knew, he would now have been burning alive. They had been trying to kill her for months, but nothing had proven sufficient yet. She'd been captured after she burned a whole village down, some two weeks travel from the city. It had taken the lives of no less than fifty-three brave soldiers last winter to subdue her and would have taken even more if she'd not been tricked out onto a frozen pond. The accursed fire in her blood had melted the ice, letting her sink into it. Once she was submerged, the fire had stopped spouting out and eventually frozen solid once more. While in transport here, she'd been encased in a solid block of ice, for only here was it safe to chop her out and attach the collar. As with so many others, conditions which would have killed normal people, had merely stopped her temporarily. He shuddered slightly, then walked away laughing at her futile efforts at escaping. That was the one good thing about this place... Not a single evoker had ever escaped custody. The next prisoner, whose cell was at the far end of the corridor, was an elderly man, if he could be called such. He now only resembled a man in the roughest sense. Like the woman, he was only dressed in a rough, sleeveless smock. Unlike her, he did not have veins of fire beneath his skin. Every square centimeter of skin had transformed into Steel-hard, dark gray-green scales, and out from his lower spine there poked a long, lizard-like tail, with ugly-looking spines sticking up, connected to each other by a sickly green crest. The man's face was elongated, his mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth, his tongue forked like that of a serpent. Dozens had died from his extremely venomous bite. Of the man's mind, virtually nothing remained. Unfortunately, the cleverness of the man he had once been remained at the disposal of the beast he had become. Along his spine, the smock was stretched, perforated in places by spines akin to those cresting his tail. This was the prisoner he'd come for. For unlike the fiery woman, they had found means of controlling him. It wasn't a means he entirely approved of, but it did serve to make him useful to the Order. They'd discovered that he craved certain things, like fresh meat from a particularly large rodent found only deep within the borders of the dominion. Of course, just feeding him that particular large rodent was not sufficient to make him useful. No. They needed more. That extra thing was the reason he disliked using this creature. He nodded to the nearby set of guards, one of whom who raised a small whistle, blowing it. Less than a minute later, a pair of soldiers entered, dragging a woman between them. She squirmed and tried to get away, perhaps somehow sensing what fate had in store for her. It did not help her in the least, of course. The woman was a Kalnachi captive, which was far worse than an the Othean heathens. The Otheans simply hadn't seen the light yet. The Kalnachi on the other hand, had seen it and had chosen to disregard it, practicing a profane, blasphemous version of the true faith. He had not a single positive thought about them now, and he never expected to gain any either. They unbarred the door to the cell, tossing her hard inside, then replacing the bars. Stevan watched with a mixture of fascination and horror as the creature caught the woman with ease, its claws wrapping firmly around her arms. Even as she screamed, the creature had its way with her. Like the beast it was, the whole process was over but a couple of minutes later. It threw her into the corner, where she lay unmoving except for her rapid breathing. He could see how her skin was already changing color, going from a healthy pink into adopting a dull, grayish green tinge. It was, he judged, a just treatment for the Kalnachi woman's blasphemy. A minute later, the creature stilled, staring intently at him. It was, for now, sated. It hissed out something that resembled a growl, but which he knew from experience was a question, a request for his instructions. To anyone not familiar with this foul creature, it would merely have been a hissing growl. It had taken the inquisitors months to even comprehend the creature on a most basic level. It had taken years more to train it to a semblance of obeying them. He smiled at it. “I need you to do what you do best. Wreak havoc from the sewers and out along the waterfront.” He paused for a few moments, thinking. “Any female Otheans you should get your claws on, you can do with as you wish, just leave them in the sewers where they can be picked up.” The creature hissed at him, its long tongue flicking out between its scores of needle-like razorteeth. “Return in six days, and you will find your meat at the usual place.” Stevan waited for a moment until the creature hissed its acknowledgement, then moved to the wall beside the cell. There he pulled a lever, and the chain and collar detached from around the creature's neck. He and the others moved back, lowering a portcullis between the creature's cell and the rest of the complex. Only after that did he pull the lever opening the creature's cell. It did not hesitate for a moment, running at full-tilt down the corridor and out into the now-open entrance to the sewers, almost as if it were afraid they wouldn't let it go after all. Once the creature was gone, the guards at its far end sealed it up, leaving no visible trace behind of its existence. At least no trace visible from the Sewers. He then raised the portcullis once again and a pair of soldiers entered the creature's cell, carrying a stretcher between them. Using thick gloves, they lifted the prone body of the woman onto it, then carried her away to a place she would be properly contained. Stevan paid them no heed, instead turning on his heels, heading back up to the surface, where lay his personal office. There he would begin writing his coded report back to his superiors in the dominion. It was, he judged, better that he report his blunder than that they receive the report from one of their numerous spies. Despite what some might think, honesty was actually rewarded in the dominion. Particularly honesty about blunders, failures and setbacks. Concealing such would only be bad in the long run, not only for him, but for the Order as well. A setback was only alleviated by quickly employed countermeasures. After scribing it down, he tied it to the fastest highbird available and sent it on its way south. It would take three days to reach his superiors and three more for new instructions to arrive, but it was the only viable choice. No means existed of quicker communication over such vast distances. Until such orders arrived, he would simply have to do his best not to make any further blunders. While the creature was out, he resolved he'd need a really good reason to leave the sanctum. Its not that he feared it, which was to some degree true, but rather that he feared he might make further blunders. And he didn't trust the creature. While it belonged to the Order, he would never trust an evoker, no matter how trained it was. Never. They were all evil. Corrupted. No matter how pure someone was before becoming one, he or she would be evil incarnate afterwards. That bit never changed. Everyone knew that. He would instead spend his time interrogating a few of the prisoners. Even if no useful information came out of it, at least he could get some practice at extracting truth. There was always a benefit to take from such. He smiled to himself at that thought. Nothing, he thought, would stop the dominion from claiming this place for itself. Not if he had anything to say about it.

[Fallenreaper]

Roan Every bit of Roan seemed wild and untamed. Pain, hunger and worse all gnawed at his soul and his weaker mind sending it into restless fits. His stomach was sent into vertigo and seemed to choke him silently, leaping into his throat where it was caught churning relentlessly and refused to be denied. His hanging arms seemed to have no feeling anymore when the numbness set in. They were useless, dangling like dead weight against the stranger’s back who carried him though quiet alleyways and abandoned paths. Each step of the massive man was like rattling his very bones causing him to flinch with the pain. He felt the bandaged wound flare with fresh agony. More blood seeped, it stained the makeshift cloth used to bind his injury, only barely stoppering the flow downward. Roan felt his joints cracking and seize with a new wave of pain, one not found in the effect of his earlier encounter. Mostly because he knew all those had healed long ago. Something was wrong. He felt it in his very marrow, the way the joints seemed to creak and protest, and nape of his neck hairs rose in protest. They erected with fear that now pounded in his head plagued by a migraine. He could hear the subtle growl in his ears, not realizing it was his own voice reflecting a warning, stirring his mind from an almost dead state. This was different than before. It felt more desperate, frightened and...hungry. It felt like something was lurking within his body. The eyes watching and waiting, aggressively stalking to seize a weaken moment. Roan’s head jerked up. His eyes wide and alert, the pale hair already shifting into a darker, unnatural black. His skin itched and twitched, the fur starting to sprout while his muscles started to thicken. He reacted on adrenaline coursing through his veins. Before Markul could react and tighten his grip, Roan’s arms pushed off the tall man’s shoulder and tried to distance himself. Something was dead wrong, enough to force him to create distance between him and the man, uncertain what was going to happen. Crack...His bones started to abruptly shift when his foot hit the ground causing him crouch, his voice let out a yell in his surprise. This was happening far too fast much to his horror when already his tail surged forth, his right arm preventing him from smacking the ground muzzle first when it erupted out of his face. His razor sharp canine teeth glistened before his eyes set upon the first sound he heard. Something, large and scared, scrambled onto the nearest crate in its haste to escape. It twitched its scabby nose, whiskers sensing his presence, as its lips pulled its black lips back and reveal its oversize yellow teeth. It hissed causing Roan to belt out a snarl. In a flash he was on it. His fangs torn into the flesh, points sinking into the warmth and tongue coated with the rustic taste. Roan’s jaw held fast for a moment, feeling the high pitched, panicked squeal then tightened. Organs were buried into, spilling more precious and delicious taste, while the bones gave away to his crushing power. Killing it in his maw, his hands raised close to his snout sides. They gripped the limp head and back half, his teeth cutting through the thick, pulp body as he ripped the rat’s carcass’ ends down. It tore into two rather easily allowing him to slurp up the innards greedily. In Roan’s mind it all happened slowly when he savored the morsel. It wasn’t enough for him. His belly still clawed at his insides, demanding more. Instinctively his head lifted skyward. He noted the roof and the flutter of birds… his nose inhaled a familiar scent. More blood mingling with sweat and another odd scent. It was hard to place it as it smelt like old hide, though if his human mind was awake then he might’ve written it off as the butcher’s leather apron. His mouth salivated, the white glop dripped down. He gave no warning as his legs curled under him, the muscles tightened then snapped forward. Roan easily leap to the roof’s edge and scaled hand over hand, his body quickly rising higher. Every second seemed to tickle by in his need to feed. However to Markul, it was over in moments. The wolf had quickly ripped the rat into swallow-able pieces, devoured it, then vanishing to the roof in a single bound. Roan was following the scent of freshly drawn blood, his wound starting to mend itself, leaving his bloodied bandage behind.

[Freeshooter92]

Isaiah Markul Markul was simply carrying the man when it happened. He had known trying to help him was a fools errand and with those hunters about he also knew that he couldn't just go around asking people directions to a clinic. So, he dropped the man as soon as he felt him push against him, grimacing as he watched him change and remembering his earlier encounter with him. This is not good... I've seen such beastly evokers in my time, if he didn't wish it, that means... He thought, but the interruption of the manbeast eating the rat completed said train of thought rather nicely. He was shocked at the suddenness, but he had to chase him down! He couldn't leave him to die, but allowing him to rampage and end other lives was no better. He'd restrain him, by force if need be. He bolted down the alleyway, turning and following his trail. With every heavy bound he made, he'd make tremors in the ground, slight ones but still detectable. And given that he knew the exact kind of vibrations the beast made now, he'd be able to track him even if line of sight didn't allow it. He was hungry... that much was clear. So he'd likely be heading towards the market he'd seen earlier when he was crossing the street to another alleyway. He bolted towards the place, cursing his armor as he knew it was all but impossible for him to beat the creature there.

[Fallenreaper]

Roan

Thump. Roan felt his paws hit the stone roof easily after his leap. The vibration and impact were absorbed through his thick soles as the rough skin aided his grip, giving him an advantage in his need to move. It wasn’t hard to regain his balance when he dropped to all four, ignoring the dizzy sensation within his head, feeling the firm ground underneath him. Testing the solidness, his arms stretched out and gripped the surface for a moment. His teeth bared when his torso rose, his rear legs coiled again propelling him forward in a gallop. Roan’s muscles stretched with the burn making him run faster. Each burst of speed was born of desperation and need, feeding his power where his belly failed. Faster...Faster… His instincts roared throughout his soul and body, his pace was steady for most the trip. Every so often his nose twitched causing to him to grin to a slower pace, then come to a complete stop. Sniff...sniff...sniff.. He inhaled deeper, his brain registered the air particles and fixed each smell an image, name or emotion. The latter set on how it made him feel. One direction had too many smells. Each one set off alarms in his head as his stomach felt nauseated from the mixture, having difficulty in picking each one out individually. His mental state had already started to break down from the multiple changes within the past hours. A sign of danger even on an instinctive state for him, something that helped determined his needs and goal. No good, too many people. That one bad too. Not good food, too earthy...too dangerous. Stay away, must away. That one, no. Something rotted, not fresh enough. Need fresh… meat. Not enough, but… Wait! Something had caught his attention. His head tilted upright, his nose quicken and inhaled deeper to seek the origins. A word, both familiar and foreign, snapped to his mind. Food! Again, he sniffed the air. Long and short, determining if the smell had a undesirable hint or was a figment of his imagination. His head cocked as realization washed over him. Ears continual rotated, seeking any sounds, monitoring his surroundings while keeping his brain aware. Food...is near? YES! The answer was enough to get his teeth coated with saliva again. The glops collected at the edge and dripped down slowly, staining his paws below him. Roan couldn’t wait because the animal inside of him knew he would starve as he had never been this hungry before. Never in the two weeks he traveled up those wretched ‘Claws’ or the days spent tracking down into the Othea forests, all filled with something fitting for his appetite. He was often over-gorged on fresh blood and meat. He was never hungry or needing to seek out food so shortly after he ate, not like now. He let out a small whimper when his middle clawed at him again, his voice silenced when the boarish sounds of hogs rose to his ears. The furry triangles rotated, shifting to center on the source as he stalked closer. Voices began, human and male from the sounds of it, growing louder the closer he came. Gingerly, his four limbs lowered and his head peering over the roof edge to spot the source. Below were the two men. One a few years senior compared to the other, his hands gesturing to a plump sow who stuffed her snout inches deep in her trough while ignoring the bickerment. Her teeth grinded the mixture of partly rotted vegetables, mud, and grain all mushed together into a glop without question and noisily hid Roan’s heavy breath. Roan growled in his throat at seeing her, his tongue licked his chops while his hands started down. He braced himself against the roof then slinked, quietly, onto the slanted covering over the pig pen. Strictly made for keeping the rain and snow off, the men failed to hear him as they edged inside to further argue price. “Shut up, Brutus! NOW!” Came the owner’s harsh reprimand at the dog, a large scrawny mutt jerking in fear at his rope attached to the pole. The loud sound caused Roan to retreat for only a bit, retracting just when the man looked up then frowned. Immediately he kicked a meager bone at the dog causing the animal to recoil from him. His tail between his legs and slinking back into the shoddy lean to which was the only shelter for it. The barter seemed to be going in ill favor, clear by the owner’s foul mood, as he gestured to head inside. Likely to be out of the sound of the whimpering and frantic animal, not renewing his jerking at his rope once more. If Roan could care to focus on the words anymore, he would’ve easily understood them and found himself confused by their meaning. Now the words were merely buzzing in the back of his head, forgotten in favor of his stomach. A whine, low and panicked caused Roan’s head to snap to the side. Brutus, the brown and white dappled mutt was now staring at him. The neck was nearly crushed by the tightening rope collar looped about and threatened to choke it, each time constricted more and more. Roan snarled. His teeth shown just before he lounged. Snap! “YIP!!!!!” The mutt took off like Roan had just nailed his ass. The thin, wiry and unfed frame disappeared in moments as he took off in the direction of the Kalesia Embassy. Likely to collapse on the gate front and far from the wild beast it had the misfortune to encounter. Roan snorted, 'Stay gone!', then turned to the alerted sow. Her piggy eyes stared at him, uncertain, until she felt Roan's teeth at her flesh. She let out a blood curling squeal only to be silenced when Roan’s fangs found her throat. When the two men rushed out, all they managed to spot was a large, grotesque wolf clambering up the roof. From his jaws was dead sow, her eyes glazed over and blood marred her pick white flesh just when the wolf vanished over the roof. Leaving the men terrified in his wake.