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Nathaniel Stormlight



Location: Eye of the Eye of the Beholder.



Nathaniel acknowledged the woman’s comments with a respectful nod, his expression thoughtful on that fateful night. She would have likely slipped in during the guards' lockdown or perhaps moments before it fell into place.

As the soft murmur of conversation enveloped the room, Nathaniel’s attention was drawn to the lady seated at the table beside her husband. Instinctively, a habit forged through countless encounters with nobles and influential figures, he placed his right hand over his heart and executed a slight bow toward them, a gesture steeped in respect and propriety.

When Lord Coswain introduced himself, Nathaniel’s lips curled into a warm smile. “Well met, Lord Coswain,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of cordiality that belied the regal that he often maintained. Looking at Lord Coswain, he clearly had seen his fair share of adventure and battle either good or bad. There was just that aura that he admitted that indicated that he wasn't afraid to draw his blade if needed to defend himself or his people.

However, the polished facade he had carefully crafted wavered dangerously when Lord Coswain casually commented on Daphne’s role in looking after the priestess. A surge of suppressed laughter bubbled within him, recalling the unexpected intimacy shared between the squire and the priestess during their sanctuary in the temple a memory that caused a barely stifled chuckle to rise in his throat. Clearing his throat, he regained his composure. “N-no, of course not. She appears quite capable in a fight; you must be very proud of her skills for you to speak so casually of her.” A faint smile danced on his lips, illustrating his admiration. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, acquaintance, Lord Coswain” his gaze went from Lord Coswain to his wife. Lady Coswain.

As the elderly couple began to reminisce about the joyful days of their youth, their eyes sparkling with memories of love and adventure, the Blight-born girl finally found her voice. She spoke earnestly, explaining her motivations and aspirations as a Sage. Nathaniel listened intently. “Not at all. It’s a valid answer and may indeed serve you well during your interview with the Prince." he encouraged, his tone both supportive and sincere. "I'm Nathaniel Stormlight, I hail from the central capital of Aurelia. I just arrived here yesterday."



Mentions/ interactions.

Nesna @enmuni
Lord and Lady Coswain @PrinceAlexus
Nathaniel Stormlight



Location: Eye of the Eye of the Beholder.



He came to a halt, his footsteps echoing against the wooden floor, the sound muffled by the other patrons and the surrounding sounds of other footsteps. As he allowed her full figure to come into focus, his gaze was drawn to her striking four eyes, his flushed cheeks partly illuminated by the candlelight that was eminent across the room. Behind her, long, elegantly folded wings rested. It was difficult to discern her heritage, was she Lunarian or Aurelian? He would guess the former, from how she talked to the previous two, who sat at one of the tables. But at this moment, however, such distinctions felt trivial; what mattered was her presence and the promise of her assistance.

“I'm guessing you’re new here, am I right?” he inquired, curiosity lacing his voice.

A warm smile tugged at the corners of his lips, an instinctive gesture of welcome. “I’m truly glad you found the courage to step forward and offer your help,” he continued, positioning himself several paces away from her yet feeling the gravity of her aura. Something stirred within him; there was another question clawing at his mind, one he hesitated to voice. “May I ask what compels you?” he pressed, his tone shifting into something more serious. “What drives your desire to be a Sage? And more importantly, why commit yourself to the perilous quest of seeking a cure for the blight?”

In truth, an unsettling thought nagged at the back of his mind. He recalled the grim truth he had learned: to become Blight-born, a person must first die. What cruel fate awaited those who could be cured? Would the magic that restored their vitality also seal their doom? A chill raced down his spine at the mere contemplation of it, a heavy topic he knew he would eventually need to discuss with Flynn and Eris.

His thoughts snapped back to the present, and he raised his hands slightly, a gesture of sincerity. “If I’m overstepping my bounds, I do apologize.”



Mentions/ interactions.

Eris, Flynn @The Muse
Nesna @enmuni
Nathaniel Stormlight



Location: Eye of the Eye of the Beholder.



Nestled at a quaint table in the heart of the Eye of the Beholder, Nathaniel took a moment to absorb the warm ambience enveloping the inn. Flickering candlelight danced in the lanterns lining the walls, casting playful shadows that mingled with the vibrant glow of the crackling fireplace, where logs snapped and popped, sending tiny sparks into the air. A brisk morning chill still lingered, causing a few patrons to huddle closer to their cups, their breath visible in white puffs as they engaged in hushed conversations.

He had expected to find the innkeeper, a serpentine being with a single eye, deftly orchestrating the staff, but the peculiar creature was absent, likely attending to important matters somewhere in the bustling heart of Dawnhaven.

As Nathaniel examined the faces around him, he recognized several from the previous day. Their eyes briefly met him before they instinctively dropped their gaze, an uneasy silence accompanying their shifty glances.

His plate, adorned with crispy strips of bacon, plump sausages, and slices of toast slathered in melted butter, beckoned him. Unbeknownst to him, breakfast at the inn was typically self-cooked; however, he counted his lucky stars for the skills honed during his youth. His childhood escapades had led him to the kitchens of his family estate, where he often shadowed the skilled cooks, eagerly learning to create simple yet satisfying meals. He chuckled at the memory of a fondly remembered afternoon spent toiling over a stove, only to be met with his mother’s scalding reprimand when she discovered the kitchen was in disarray, the chefs equally chastised for allowing it to happen.

With a swift slice of his knife, he cut into a sausage, steam curling invitingly from its centre. He allowed a piece to linger on his palate, savouring the rich flavours of his breakfast and washing it down with a sip from his steaming mug. His thoughts drifted along with the steam curling into the air, revisiting his extensive research on the blight alongside Eris in the Alchemy Chambers and the imminent expedition that would soon take him deeper into the heart of the mystery.

Suddenly, a sharp twinge of pain lashed through his stomach, causing his spine to stiffen as if a breath had been caught in his throat. He exhaled deeply, a wave of nausea washing over him, gnawing at his enthusiasm. Thinking of Isabelle.

With a resigned sigh, he nudged his plate aside, the untouched food whisked away by a diligent server. He finished his last few sips of tea, the warmth curling through him as he emptied the mug, glancing up to offer a polite smile. "Apologies, I just lost my appetite.” he murmured. The worker flashed a warm smile in reply. "Not a problem at all," they said cheerfully, their voice crisp and reassuring as they disappeared behind the counter.

Pushing back his chair, Nathaniel stood with a newfound resolve. His day lay ahead, meticulously planned. He would need to report to the Prince regarding the fate of the other sages who had journeyed with him, ensuring their families understood the gravity of their loss. Just as he mentally organized the details, a voice sliced through his contemplations, unfamiliar yet tinged with a sense of authority.

He turned to see a woman approaching, someone he thought he recognized. It was Persephone-- or at least he believed it was. Accompanying her was a striking man with silver hair and an imposing presence; his very demeanour radiated significance. But it wasn't the two of them who captured Nathaniel's attention; his eyes widened as they fell upon another figure preparing to depart the Blight-born. Her snow-white hair shimmered like moonlight, and for a heartbeat, he almost mistook her for the other pale-haired woman residing in the inn, the one often accompanied by a feline companion.

Eris had hinted at the process Blight-borns underwent to gain residency here, which included interviews with Flynn. Drawing a deep breath, Nathaniel approached her, clearing his throat as he prepared to address this fascinating individual. "Pardon me for being intrusive and prying. But I heard that you mentioned being a Sage."



Mentions/ interactions.

Sya, Lord and Lady Coswain @PrinceAlexus
Eris, Flynn @The Muse
Aurora @BlackRoseSiren
Nesna @enmuni
Nathaniel Stormlight



Location: Eye of the Eye of the Beholder.



Nathaniel opened his eyes, the room slowly came into focus. A heavy sigh came from him, his chest rising then falling as the soft lining of the bed wrapped him. Confusion etching his face as his brow furrowed. Where am I? having to take his time sitting up, the sheets slipping from his bare chest. He took in his surroundings, a well decorated, well lit room, the double bed he was upon was on one side of the room, the door was across the way to him. A loud yawn came from him as he ran a hand through his brown hair, it was soft, definitely bed hair, but clean.

On the nightstand to his right, a glass rested on it, half filled with water. Reaching for it his muscles were reluctant to obey, but he grabbed the glass, then took a sip.




His memories slowly started to come back to him. After the alarm and the lockdown had been lifted a Lunarian priest arrived to the temple to check on the temple grounds, at first when she first saw him sat on the floor in front of the divine pool, with all the blood that he was covered in, she thought he was a corpse. It was only until he turned, that her shriek echoed throughout the temple and to the outside. Enough to alert a couple of guards who were on patrol.

After some explanation and a lot of forgiveness, mostly for moving all the benches and braziers to barricade the door. After a huge apology and Nathaniel moving everything back to where it once was, the priest forgave him and whispered a 'Thank you.' for defending the sacred temple. Once Nathaniel was done the Guards escorted him back to the inn.

There were a lot of stares as he made the slow journey to the inn. With both guards walking close on his heels, Nathaniel felt like a prisoner, being paraded across Dawnhaven, a few mumbles and hushed voices came from people, some people he kinda recognised as patrons from the inn. Still he kept his head up, not making eye contact with anyone.

Once in front of the inn, the guards continued their patrol, Nathaniel passed through the door exhaustion was etched across his face, he stunk, of grime, sweat and a lot of blood. The patrons as well as a lot of the members of staff gasped at seeing him, some people even backed away from here. "My luggage was left here?” Nathaniel asked, his throat dry. The worker nodded "Y-yes, your luggage has been put into one of the rooms, room 10. If you are wanting to use the room you'll need to pay for it." At this point, Nathaniel didn't care, he went into his satchel, pulling out a small satchel of coins, throwing it onto the counter, "I'll rent the room. Also I'm in desperate need of a bath.” The person nodded in agreement, let me take you to the bathing chamber so you can clean yourself up. Once she took to the bathing chamber, Nathaniel didn't even wait to undress himself and jumped in fully clothed. It wasn't until his third bath he was fully clean, after his first he took his clothes off and jumped back in.




Placing the glass that was now empty back onto the nightstand. He got himself free from the confines of his bedsheets. Sitting on the end of the bed the cold floor kissed the base of his feet, causing a shiver to climb his spine. He rolled his shoulders then his neck followed by stretching his arms. With a shake of his head his hair rested down his back. Today was his first actual day as a citizen of Dawnhaven, regardless of how much he wanted to just stay in bed, he had a few tasks to do. First explore the town, then head to the Alchemy chambers to play meet and greet with the other sages who work there. Given how that other Sage mentioned about his luggage was send here to this inn. But it was more on the feline smile she had. He grumbled to that thought, with a quick motion he got up. Raising his arms over his head he stretched. Striding towards the armoire, opening it up the fresh scent of his clothes came out.

After he decided on what to wear, he laid them out onto the bed, and put his boots under where they were. Gazing out of the window, the eternal night sky looked just the same, a trickle of snowflakes danced on the wind as they drifted by. The snow wasn't as bad as it was before he went to sleep, he would often find himself gazing out to watch the snowfall or quietly read his book nestled into the nearby chair.

As always, he started his day with some stretching exercises. During his time when he was being tutored his father figured it would be best for Nathaniel, well any of his children to help train their bodies. So for about four years Nathaniel was trained on how to wield a sword and how to fight. Everyday he was asked to do stretches and lunges. Originally he protested at it at first, but then after a few weeks it grew on him, now he mostly does them to keep himself in shape.

Once his morning workout was done, he quickly brushed his hair, then tied it. Then proceeded to get dressed. A simple white tunic and black trousers hung in the armoire was his coat. Before grabbing his coat, he paused. A knock came from the other side of the door, then a muffled voice

"Excuse me Lord Stormlight, but breakfast is available for you downstairs." The voice said to him. As if hearing her, Nathaniel's stomach growled almost immediately. "Thank you. I'll be down momentarily after.” he responded to the voice. With that footsteps seemed to fade down the hall.

Once his coat was on he reached for the door, before looking back at the small room. A room he spent an hour placing his things and arranging it. Paperwork store in and on the desk near the window. A series of books, some romantasy, others were just basic fantasy. After one final check at his appearance, he gives a small smile. "I wonder what's for breakfast.” he opens the door, the sound of people talking and smell of food coming from the stairs down the hallway. "That smells good” he mumbles before closing his room door.




Nathaniel Stormlight



Location: The Lunarian temple.



Still sat on the floor cross-legged staring up at the moon and the consultation of stars. Nathaniel couldn't help but still feel in awe about how it looked. Once he finished his sketch, he gently applied something to the art piece, so it wouldn't smudge if someone touched it with his fingers. The process took him less than a minute, then he turned it over, writing the back of it

inside the Temple of Lunarian

Like all his other sketches, he had a habit of labelling them. With portraits, he would write the person or people's names on the back, more out of habit. Hearing voice echoing through the temple. He turned his gaze slightly towards where the voices were. A warm smile came across his face. In the distance, he saw that the priestess Katherine had come out of her room and looked like she was embracing Daphne. That was good. Amazing even.

Nathaniel leaned back slightly, his gaze looking up at the night sky that broke through the temple roof, bathing him in the moonlight. He closed his eyes.

What a bizarre adventure that he has had so far. Meeting only a few people and without question, there'll be more people to meet.

He started with the first person. Thinking about Eris, his pulse quickened. How he confused her for someone else. Granted he had never met her until today. Given how much his mother was trying to arrange meetings. If she had been there and seen that display, Nathaniel would have been slapped on the back of their head. A faint smile tugged as he continued thinking more about their encounter.

That dance they had. When he held her close as the two danced, he couldn't help but smile. Then his mind went to the part where they'd be working together to help with research. A tinge of excitement and anticipation began to form in a part of his chest, causing his heart to beat faster. He took a few breaths to calm himself. If he had a second chance to dance with her again, he'd take that opportunity.

Then Daphne came to mind, even though the two had minor interactions, Nathaniel enjoyed meeting her. Then Ayel. As if it was yesterday he still remembers that time that Isabelle punched him straight into his jaw. Nathaniel himself had been on the receiving end of one of those strikes. It was during a sparring match between him and his sister. She had one hell of a right hook. Instinctively, Nathaniel brought his hand to his jaw rubbing, as if remembering the pain he felt. The argument that he had with her. If their roles were switched, would she be sitting here all melancholy?

Pushing those memories of his sister to one side, not wanting to go down that rabbit hole, he thought about other things. "When I get back to the inn. I'm going to enjoy a nice long rest.”



Mentions/Interactions: Daphne @PrinceAlexus, Kat, @SpicyMeatball Eris, @The Muse Ayel. @Dezuel



It Came from the Bog: Niallus.


Stepping through the portal that was made for him and Esmii, both people came from the latter's new castle of Desta'Lovox. The temperature soared after a few minutes of being there, and with the portal closed there was no going back for now. A foul stench was in the air, making the Eskandish man cover his nose with his hand. "Gud, det er en moden lukt!" He complained.

Adjusting to the smell of colour for a few moments, he took his hand magic from his nose. Hearing Esmii say goodbye to him and walking off, he gave a smile and a nod. Once he parted ways with Esmii, he knew she'd be fine here. She's a smart one, plus she'd know her way around this area. After a few steps, he ended up stepping on a branch, causing it to snap. The noise of the snapped branch echoed throughout the area he was in, instead of birds flying away spooked by the noise that was created. Instead, there was nothing. That was rather unnatural. Once the sound of snapping foliage faded nothing else, no insects or birds, could thus be the work of that beast.

While walking through this eerie swamp. He thought of that old saying about if a tree falls, does it make a sound? Hor's mind still went back to what happened at Desta'Lovox, with how Johann acted. But that thought quickly left as he heard noises; following the noises, it led to the old ruins. He scanned the area as he walked to ruins where a man was digging through some rubble. Curious by this, Niallus walked up to the person carefully, so as not to startle him. "Excuse me?" He said as he approached. "Are you from around the area?"

||Gods, That's a ripe smell||

The ruins were mostly destroyed houses, stacked on each other with most of the wood decayed into muck. The stone was made for usable, small isles if one could get over the excessive lack of friction from the moss-like surface.

A man was moving the rubble, partially helping with the gift, but he was meticulous with his work. He was looking for something and was careful about it.

The man was a Yasoi, and once Niallus addressed him he looked the Eskandish youth's way. “Yes.” he answered plainly, turquoise eyes surrounded by massive black circles. The man hadn't slept for a long time. Then, he continued digging through the rubble. But unlike the wandering crone, his movements had a purpose that kept him moving despite clear exhaustion. “No panuu. No panuu.” he grunted from under a half-decomposed roof to Niallus. “No panuu here.”

Niallus walked closer to the man as he dug, using his gift to move rubble away. As he looked in Niallus' direction speaking about there being no treasure here. Niallus could see he had clear signs of insomnia; how many days had this guy been digging without rest? In this state, Niallus might need to be careful; in this exhausted state, he could lash out at him. He inspected some of the rubble of ruins that was on the path to the man digging.

"What are you looking for? Perhaps I can help you." He asked as he walked to him.

Niallus' request was met with grunts of both exertion and what were supposed to be mumbles. The man barely understood Avincian, and yet here was this human speaking in tongues. The man tunnel-visioned his work.

Then, a sudden ripple ran through the water, and the land shook ever so slightly. Barely noticeable. And yet, it was enough for the stone foundation he was digging under to falter very fast, just about ready to fall over the man. In his exhausted state, he didn't seem to even notice this phenomenon.

Niallus paused for a moment, *Perhaps he doesn't understand Avincian. Or were they more focused on digging?* Niallus wondered as he got closer to the Yasoi, still ever focused on digging in this one spot.

"A’lash, Juup joi wasel-" His sentence was cut short by a ripple that rumbled the area around him, "What was that?" I Looked around to find the origin of that rumble, but with it being so faint, it was likely from a distance. His gaze shifted towards the frail structure that the man was digging and began to fall, possibly because of the low rumble. Niallus dashed towards him, attempting to save the man from being crushed by the falling debris. Using his Kinetic magic in an attempt to move him out of the way and then destroy the fallen debris.

||Excuse me, do you need||

Niallus' assumption of being away from anything relevant was, unfortunately, quite wrong. The epicentre of this brief rumbling was none other than the middle of the fetid pond. A statue had been uprooted and left to drop, although the seismic activity had likely something to do with what it had been rooted to. And thus came down the fragile foundation of a ruin, with the tired man nearly biting it. Luckily, Niallus was around.

That said, he had little time to react and the weight was still considerable. The young man struggled to keep the pile he had to improvise support for. Fortunately, he did save the digger from a very likely death. But now he had to extract the dazed man from under the rubble barely fully supported. He could shove all the rubble in one, rough shove to the side. A noisy approach, one that'd be as conspicuous as Ingrid's statue moving. Or, he could try to tug the man out at the risk of having the foundation crumble and fall from lack of proper support, likely killing the man and hurting himself in the process.

Sven was at a full run and full draw, unbinding the water in front of him as he went and solidified the ground. Despite his massive capacity, it was, to put matters simply, exhausting.

He was too late to save Esmii from her misadventure, but then Ingrid did what he'd wanted to do and popped the statue up. Bad idea.

The ruins around Niallus and the old man he'd been trying to speak to collapsed suddenly and violently, the Eskandishman barely saving the latter (and himself) from being crushed.

Sven rushed over, throwing caution to the wind and unbinding - instead of the water around himself - the ruins themselves. "Hang on Shaberhagen!" he shouted. "I've got you!

He didn't have time to properly move the man from being crushed, so he acted as best he could. Even holding the rubble was no easy task, even with his Kinetic the sheer weight of all that stone was taking its toll on the young Eskandishman. He thought about pushing it up with a kinetic blast. For him to grab the old man and jump before it comes back. That would require split-second timing. "Tiin. senii." Niallus shouted to the old man, but he didn't respond to his words. Niallus could not help but curse under his breath. He was running out of time and options.

He heard a familiar voice, followed by a familiar figure running towards him. "Sven?" A mixture of confusion, surprise and relief was in his tone when mentioning his friend's name. "How did you get here?" He said to his kinsmen. His focus faulted, the weight getting more intense. "I can hold this for a bit longer. Can you grab him, get him out of the way?" He asked his friend.




With the help of Sven, Niallus was able to get the sluggish Yasoi man out of danger, but not without fumbling. The bigger Eskandishman was also not exactly the fastest either, leading to the whole group being caught in a massive splash of swamp goop. Harmless, if they didn’t swallow, although it left a blinding cloud of green smoke around them. They could hardly see each other.

What they did see, however, were long, tentacle-like shapes emerging all around them. Much taller than these young men, at least double their height, and about half the width of the burly Sven. They undulated and writhed, before bending closer to their prey.

Then, the shriek happened, prompting the appendages to lash out!

After the two Eskandishmen helped the Yasoi and themselves. The trio found this in swamp fog "Fra gryten, inn i ilden." Niallus said. On instinct, Niallus tried not to breathe so much of the gas in case it proved fatal. He could barely see Sven and the old Yasoi. It was then he saw the extremely hostile danger; two vines attempted to attack him. He focused with a deep breath, and with some help from one of his divine fruits, the vines charged at Niallus; he kept focus as he avoided the vine's attempt at grabbing him. *I have to keep focused.* He thought.

With the two vines' attacks avoided with ease, he was free to help the other two if they needed him. He had both Sven and the old Yasoi not too far from him and his sensing range. He didn't know what the vines were going to do. Regardless he was ready to help them from being attacked.

||From the pot, into the fire.||

There was no magic quick-acting enough here except for the very blunt, of which Sven had only Atomic, which he could not use for the presence of Niallus and this old man. Easily, he might've swept the entire tangle of vines away, but he'd likely have killed or maimed them in the process. He might've used internal chemical magic on a known foe, but he still lacked even the slightest understanding of how this foe worked, much less what might effectively slow, wither, or kill it.

Cursing inwardly, the Eskandishman scrambled back, using the energy from the water - And some very alarming chemical compounds - he'd unbound to power his magic.

Massive and unskilled, a rush of air blasted through the unnatural haze and a series of small, pinpoint explosions - much more skilled - blasted at the thick vines. It was the best that Sven could do robbed of his major offensive weapons. "Get down and out of the way!" he shouted as he did it, hoping that the others would listen.

Sven didn't even see it. Vaguely, in the mists, which he had failed to clear, the man was stabbed repeatedly and Sven could feel his chemical composition changing. The entire scene was changing, fast becoming desperate.

This was an unholy place and the poor fellow was, simply put, as good as dead or... something worse. He'd noticed how an old woman had chopped off her hand and how others had bound theirs so anxiously. Sven knew the rational thing to do. He should let these poor souls die. Nay, he should speed them on their way. lest they become a liability or be turned against him and his allies. Yet, to do so would be to let cruelty and evil win. It would be to betray his oaths as a jarl of Eskand, even if these were not his lands. It would be a betrayal of the responsibility that the Gods had set upon his shoulders. "If you can clear the vines, I can shave him," Sven promised in a voicece that was not quite determined, not quite resigned. Esmii's 'loyal subjects' had sent her here!? He shook his head. "We musht hurry before the bog claimsh him."

Niallus didn't expect his kinsman to use an AOE attack. Then again his beloved could be in danger, so it's likely he's not wanting to waste time. Looking at the body in the water. He was alive, but barely. What was he digging here for.?Pehaps the person lived in these ruins. Perhaps he had family that lived there; perhaps they lived in the ruins where he was digging. Relying on his own drive to keep digging. A man who lost everything and had nothing to love for maybe?

The body slowly drifted out further and further then began to sink. It was then Sven jumped into action hearing "You're right, but we'll need to act fast if we want to pull him out.". With that, Niallus drew kinetic energy, allowing him to walk on the surface of the water, and with Arcane to make an Arcane sword, he proceeded to cut and clear the other vines away to make a straight path. [color=3d5a88]"I'm glad that you came when you did. He said to Sven as he cleared the vines away.

The Eskandishman fought through the resisting plant life to rescue what looked to be a deadman. Hadric, the blacksmith, accepted that he would see his family in the next world upon failing to find them in this mortal life. And yet a house of all people fought tooth and nail for his safety. If he could, he would have spared the boy the trouble, and yet he wasn’t even capable of talking.

With one swing of his Arcane sword, a vine was cleaved away, the vine burnt and crisp from where Niallus' magic sliced through it. After the vines were cleared. Niallus broke the enchantment of his sword, and it faded into nothing. "That looks like the last of them." He returned to the shore, briefly scanning the landscape. "We need to find a flat area so we can lie him down." Niallus said. "He's not going to last long with those injuries." as he glanced back at the old man.

A blood-curdling screech erupted from the abomination. Its massive and blood maw was fully agape and its mere scream caused the waters to undulate as if the bog was an ocean. With one meal finished, it set eyes on its next fix. One was standing upon a shattered church, one of the few structures made of stone, two others stood near its frozen appendage. And further beyond, it saw two Yasoi barely making it out of its territory.

Seeing a huge tidal wave coming towards them, they didn't have time to move Hadric as Sven was getting ready to heal him enough to stand. Niallus acted. Standing between his friend and the Yasoi and the Tidal wave that was rapidly approaching. He drew in manas enforcing the area around them. "Not enough." He said, with that, he embraced the power of the void. Void energy rippled along the thin, but durable layer of Kinetic energy.

The wave crashed against the barrier. The weight of the water and the debris that was inside it was enough for small amounts of water, stones and wood to slip through and injure the Eskandr, but he kept up his defensive spell. "Come on, hold." He shouted.

Sven, meanwhile, was far more interested in healing than he was hitting back. He and Niallus had set out to save a man and had now nearly let him die. Sven staggered ashore and dumped his charge on the muddy ground as gently as he could, chest heaving. The contamination was spreading and he doubted that he could heal it with binding.

"Cover me," he shouted in Niallus' direction, [color=385403]"I'm going to try shomething!"[/colour He settled himself as much as one could be given the circumstances. He breathed. Just don't die on me now, he thought at the gravely wounded yasoi. Gathering his energy, he split matter and drew out the reaction. Targeting the hotspots of the contamination, he bombarded them with radiation, frying the alien substance out of the man's system. Sven wasn't sure how long it took or what was happening until Niallus was shouting at him, and he twisted just in time to see a wall of sickly water rushing at him. It was all that the Eskandishman could do to shield the frail and still-healing Yasoi from it.

The wave took Sven from behind and hammered him facefirst into the muck. He swallowed the foul water and ate dirt, slamming his head and shoulder on a sharp rock. For a moment, the edges of his vision greyed and he very nearly didn't come back up. Then, a series of screams pierced the hazy veil: it was Esmii. She was in trouble. She needed him. That was why he was here. Sven broke the surface, dazed, bleeding and vomiting into the morass even as it retreated. He staggered and nearly collapsed. "Go," he panted desperately at the man he and Niallus had saved. [color=385403]"Crawl, stumble, run if you can."[/colour] He thought of the yasoi word. "Yash!" he entreated. "Yash!"




After surviving the tidal wave, they only suffered minor injuries. It was at that moment he was under attack once more. A portal opens up directly above "Oh, come on." rubble and other things came through attempting to bury the Eskandishman.

Niallus drew in manas, opening his mouth slightly a faint orange glow emitting from it. Combining Chemical to his upcoming Arcane. He inhaled before unleashing his built-upon in a magnificent breath attack, hoping to incinerate the debris. The incinerator method seemed to work for a while, however, a sharp piece of debris stabbed him in his shoulder. The sharp pain he felt, made him break his concentration and caused him to stop casting his breath attack. With no offence, a stone struck him in the face, bringing him to one knee, and then he got a barraging assault upon him, burying him under all the rubble.

It wasn't long before Niallus dug himself out, he coughed up some mud that he swallowed, wiping his mouth with his arm. Having sensed what was around him. Someone's manas was faint as if they were in danger. It was Esmii."Sven, your beloved is in trouble." He said to his countryman. Following what Hadric mentioned to Niallus and Sven. Niallus made his way back to the ruins, from where he and Sven rescued Hadric. It didn't take him long to get across the landscape back to the ruins. He looked around the ruins, trying to find the tallest, stable ruin that he could stand on.

Once he stood on top of the tall ruins, he could get somewhat of a view of the swamp, and in the distance, he could see the monster. There was the one question: How was he going to lure it towards him? From looking at it from a distance, it seemed to be a powerful predator. It'll likely come if it smells something that's weakened or injured. That was it. If he could get it to smell the blood of a freshly injured target, it could come over. But there was nothing for him to use, but himself. This was foolish, but it could be effective.
He groaned at this idea. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained." He mumbled to himself. He pulled a knife out from the side of his boot and drew manas his plan to cut the palm of his hand, then use Chemical to increase to potency of the smell of his blood and use Kinetic to create a breeze to carry the scent of his wound to the monster in an attempt it to bring it over.




The monster carved its way to the Eskandishman. No longer limited by damaged limbs or glue, it took in the energy from the dispelled stasis assault on it and the stockpile its appendages deep underground, causing them to momentarily go inert, had taken during its stay to perform a mighty leap.

The seismic aftershock was felt massively by those close by, and a mighty shadow would be cast upon the group. The large monster then descended onto Niallus like an arrow, fast and accurate. The subsequent impact prompted a ripple - or rather a massive circle-shaped wave, this time with an immense amount of rubble to go with it.

Meanwhile, Hadric had found his shed. What was he planning?

Stood on top of the ruin, it seemed that his plan to bring the monster to him seemed to work, almost a little too well. Seeing it first hand, charge then leap into the air in an attempt crush him. It moved so agile for something of its size. Niallus almost didn't have time to plan. Drawing in his manas, he needed something strong to hit this thing. Summoning an Arcane Lance ready, he knew it wouldn't be enough to stop the creatures divebomb. With some focus he channeled the power into the VOID into his lance. He didn't have time to properly charge, so instead wmhe increased his throwing capability by using Kinetic. The lance shot up after the target it made contact, but it only halted it's momentum. Noticing this Niallus jumped down from where he was stood he didn't have.




The fight broke out between the students of Ersand'Enise and the monster, Niallus wanted to jump right into the fight. He was held back by his friend Sven. Insisting that Niallus should be healed from the ailment that was affecting him. Niallus didn't argue with him, accepting his friend's help. Sven's magic flooded Niallus' system, eventually curing him of what was in his system; it probably would be best not to get hit or infected by that thing again.

The battle continued, seeing that Esmii was in danger as she was being targeted. Niallus defended her. Using magics of Kinetic and Arcane to help, but it only left him as a target, as once he defended Esmii. He became a target, and the monster began an onslaught.

The monster grabbed Niallus's leg, wrapping a bone around it, causing the Eskand to lose his balance and be lifted off the murky ground. Once off the ground, the monster slammed Niallus into the ground as if it were hitting a drum. One impact, two impacts. Over and over. Each impact to the ground leaves an echoing sound of Niallus hitting stone or water.

After it was done it threw Niallus to one side. Niallus rolled a bit before coming to a stop. Part of his body was submerged in swamp water. His vision was blurry and disoriented. Heavy wheezes escaped his bloody lips. Some of his ribs were most likely broken or shattered; more likely, a few other bones were broken, and an organ ruptured.

Two sets of footsteps were approaching him. It was Esmii and Sven. He turned his head as they approached . "Sven, Esmii when you start a family. Can you name your firstborn after me?" he mused, his voice was weak and shallow. Esmii trying to help Niallus. "Shh, quiet now, save your strength. "This monster shall die before you, bro." Sven gritted his teeth. "Long before."

Niallus felt his body slowly begin to be reconstructed under the influence of Esmiis's magic. She must have put more power into it as his body began to heal rapidly. It took some time for him to get to his feet. His legs were wobbly, but once he was up, he swayed ever so slightly.

After a few moments of him getting back into the fight. Niallus saw Ingrid hit by a dark bolt, then she was gone. Ingrid! he shouted, his arm extended in the direction he last saw her. His eyes followed the person who did it. It was Xiuyang. A fury burst from Niallus, Manas surging to his command. An arcane lance burst to life. And he threw it at Xiuyang without hesitation. Shortly after he threw it, she faded away, and his lance missed as it sailed off into the distance.

At that moment the monster used this opportunity to attack Niallus while he was distracted. A vine raced towards him striking him in the chest, impaling him. There was a small amount of pain that was overcome by numbness. Niallus coughed blood, his hand loosened the grip on his Arcane sword, eventually letting go. His mana couldn't contain itself, and the magical sword faded away. There was more; he felt something invading his system. Was it the thing that he had before that Sven cured? The vine slowly pulled itself out of his chest, his breathing became weaker and weaker, and eventually, he collapsed backwards.




*Thump, Thump*
*Thump, Thump*

The only sound that Niallus could hear was his heartbeat. Not even the noises of what was happening around him. Not even people's voices. Perhaps the fight had moved to a different location, or perhaps he got moved. This void was all that remained.

The last thing that he saw, that he felt was the vines impaling him. Niallus felt sheer agony as the vines spread poison all over his entire body.

There were more muffled noises this time, but this one managed to break through; he could hear this loud and clear. Hearing another sound echo through the air. He knew this. It was a gunshot. Perhaps Desmond was opening fire on the monster.

Goosebumps began to crawl over his skin. Was it his body warning him that he was in danger? It was likely that he didn't have long to act, so he did. His eyes opened, and with a burst of energy, he rose to his feet. Time was short, the adrenaline that he was feeling from this sensation, time seemed to wrap around him.

Using Kinetic he lifted a good amount of water around his person and then held it in place. Adding Chemical to the water, in the mad attempt to make the suspended water around him into a gelatinous substance. It wouldn't be enough, to stop a bullet. He needed it to be stronger. In an attempt to increase the density of the gelatine, a sharp pain erupted from his body. He had been through so much already, and he was pushing it to its limit. This forceful push made him lose focus causing it to waver. However, it was too late.

It was not Edyta's job to heal. That was for the Dordians and, yet, she had been trained as a healer. Healers took an oath. She knew little of Niallus. He was Eskandish. He was brash and bold and she'd heard tell that he dabbled in Dark Magic. Perhaps this was his comeuppance. Perhaps Mother Oraff now called to him, but Edyta did not think so. Cawuio-Zast had been a wicked man, through and through. Niallus was just a young and handsome fool.

Nobody had ever accused Edyta of being sentimental except, jokingly, dear Tommy. Was it an excess of sentimentality that drove her Niallus' way? Was it an excess of sentimentality that caused her to lower her guard and, in the middle of battle, prioritize the life of another - a lesser weapon - over her own?

Was it an excess of sentimentality that caused her to miss the bullet hurtling towards her - it had come from nowhere, hadn't it!?

"Niallus," she breathed, "Be still, stay awake. I will heal you." She was just reaching out to do so when it hit. So much natural instinct had been drilled into a nine-year-old girl that a seventeen-year-old one dodged instinctively and with uncanny speed, but it was not enough. The bullet hit and, before her mind could even process it, her body knew that it had been struck. It was not fatal. It wouldn't be fatal, but... the blood was barely visible as it stained the red robes below her right shoulder. She bit back a cry of pain, not willing to be a liability to the others, and gritted her teeth.

They say that the fond moments of your life meld together one last time before you pass. That was true. Laid in the waters his head just out of the water to breathe, which wasn't doing much for the young Eskandishman. His chest hardly moved, his breathing was weak and wheezy. His mind gave him fond memories of the people who were important to him. Hearing the sound of footsteps approaching him brought him out of his trance. A part of him guessed that the person who was approaching him was Hjem, the Eskandr Warden of Food, Drink and Parental Love. Was she here to collect his wayward soul?

The person came next to him, his vision was so blurred that he could only make out an outline of them. Hearing their voice, It was Edyta Laska. He didn't have much of an opinion of her. Sure they spent time in various encounters. He respected her as a person. Seeing the figure jerk in pain was an indication that she was shot too. He tried to speak, but all that came out was just a weak wheeze. He wanted to get up, he wanted to help, but his body didn't respond.

Niallus had regained consciousness some time. Unfortunately, his body was still unable to move, so he couldn't do anything but watch. Nonetheless, he was glad to be alive, thanks to Laska. He was able to look at the others and what was unfolding among them. Move damn it. He thought as he tried to move, but nothing happened. He spotted the flash of light, then the other that was a person moving to finish Desmond. "Laska... come closer." Once close, Niallus whispered "Attack the one that's closing in on Desmond, but you'll need to catch it off guard." then gave her a little nod.

Edyta could feel the life dripping out of her body: a sacrifice to Mother Eshiran, willingly given, as were all things. What a stupid thing. She could've dropped. She'd have been between words and safe.

Niallus would've died.

She didn't even know him and, from what she'd heard, he was a man of inconstant character, prone to pride and anger, eager to dabble in the dark magics that brought much more pain to the world than good. Jełop! She coughed. Stupid. Trying to be a hero. You're not a hero.



Greyspace
He had been about to die - if he was not already dead - and she had saved him. Edyta had grabbed Niallus' hand and disappeared into greyspace. Is it a sin to serve two masters? She could not know and she did not have time to ruminate on it. Ahn-Eshiran and Oraff-Zept were both among the Pentad, so surely they could not exist in opposition to each other. Surely, helping the one wasn't necessarily slighting the other. Edyta did not want to break her oath. Oaths were what kept the world bound in civilization, Father Bartek had once told her with a pained face, as if he were not sure that he believed it.

She did not have time to ruminate on it.

Niallus was... conscious, in a sense. She could feel it in his hand as she held it. She spared a glance his way as they moved through the shadows of spaces. They moved and she navigated as only she knew, as she had been doing for almost ten years.

Then, she stopped. Beneath her feet was mud. There was nearly dried mud, with a hint of red clay soil, and she knew it. There was a scent as well, and her very sense of reality prickled at it: apple and pear blossoms, in Stresia, by the creek in Bynowice. She shook her head to clear it, but how vivid it was. She shook her head. "...Niallus." He was coming to. She could ask him if he felt the dirt or smelled the flowers; she could ask him and be sure.

But she could not.

If they weren't real, he would think that she was crazy. Perhaps it was a trick of the demon she had sensed, but... The last time that she had seen dear Father Bartek, when they had spoken at length of mundane things, he had asked her if she was 'seeing' yet. She hadn't known or understood. He'd merely nodded and looked lonely for a minute. "Well, you'll see sooner or later," he'd told her, "we all do. Speak to me immediately once that happens." She'd been unsettled. She'd thought him mad, but perhaps this was what he'd meant.

Then, there was a voice humming and she knew it too: her sister Marta, and the tune was Oj chmielu, the wedding song. It was Marta and Edyta had not seen her in seven years, not since that one Caldores when she'd been back with her new husband and son and the young Rezaindian had been given leave to see her family. Marta, who'd raised her almost like a second mother. How her heart ached for Marta and she wondered if she might hear Piotr, and Jacek, and Joanna.

Niallus was heavy, even though her magic was moving him. Then, he twitched. "Niallus," she entreated, "Are you okay?"

He'll think you're mad.

No he won't. It's a simple question!

"Did you hear something?"

Soon, they could leave. Soon. They could return to the real world and face whatever awaited them there. Perhaps the others needed their help, it occurred to Edyta. Perhaps they should go back this very moment, but Niallus was still only just beginning to move and, on some level, she did not want to.

Niallus was starting to come too. His muscles tensed and then relaxed as he was starting to move. The hand that was holding Laskas gave her a little squeeze. Upon waking up properly, the first thing he saw was Laska. The last thing that he remembered seeing was a bright flash from the beginning of the storm. "I'm fine. Thank you." He said, smiling at her.

For a moment he tilted his head raising an eyebrow. "I'll have a listen." a few moments pass, he shakes his head. "Sorry Laska I." then he heard it. "I hear humming, faint humming." whatever it was, from Laskas expression she wanted to investigate. So did he. "I want to recover a bit more before heading back to our reality." He took a few steps in front of her then continued."So how about we investigate that sound. You look like you want too."

"Stay still for a moment." Niallus was back and Edyta had the good sense to stop and search his energies for signs of anything dangerous. She pulled back and she blinked almost immediately.

He looked at her and she looked at him and then she ripped her hand free of his. Were there energy to draw within greyspace, she'd have done it. He was twice her size but still woozy. And yet... he seemed agreeable enough.

"Freshman year, at the Trials, who was your Zeno and what did you steal from him and wreck?" Edyta's heart hammered and her mind raced. His mana was... completely different - completely wrong. Inside of him was... the bog monster, but... not exactly. Are those even manas!? she wondered, prying deeper into them with her energy sense. There were millions of them in his bloodstream, propagating endlessly, and they had supplanted - or perhaps fused with - his original manas, but they had also done something greater: he should've died from his wounds but, even now, she could sense the little symbiotes healing him. They were healing him, but would they also try to control him?

The rezaindian waited warily, ready to drop back into realspace at any moment. She swallowed and searched his eyes, his stance, his biochemicals, as alien as they now were. Then, there they were again: the voices, but this time, they were coupled with the distinct feeling that there was a hill beyond Niallus and, over the crest of it, would be home and the source of them.

She blinked again to try to clear her head. "Well?" she demanded impatiently.

When Laska asked him to stay still. Niallus was confused at her request at first. Perhaps there's an injury on his person that she noticed. "Is there something wrong? What is the matter?" He asked her, confused by how she was staring at him.

Her question was rather easy to answer, but given how she was looking at him, mixed with her impatientness he would have to give her an answer. The correct one. "It was Secto. And i didn't steal his stagecoach, I borrowed it." He shot back at her "It wasn't my fault that it ended up being destroyed. We just didn't have a plan to land it safely." Feeling his confusion getting the better of him he asked. "Laska, is something wrong?"

Her eyes narrowed for a moment, but then she nodded tightly. "My name: what is it?" the nun demanded, scanning him again. There was a taint of the VOID, but perhaps it was just because he'd dabbled in the dark arts, like all too many Eskandish. "You're infected with something. It's kept you alive, but it could own you, and completely." Her response was the most basic of courtesies.

His eyebrow arched confused by her. But he responded to her. "Your name is Edyta, Edyta Laska." It was odd for him to say her actual name. He was so used to saying her surname.

Hearing her explain that he's infected with something. He immediately asked her. "And you are asking this question. to me to see if I'm still me. Correct?" He had no reason to not believe what Laska was saying to him, why would she lie to him. If she wanted to she could have just left him here to his fate. But from what she said. He scanned his body. There was something there. Living inside of him. Remembering the injuries that he suffered. Being inpaled by vines. The gunshot that hit him in the chest. No normal person could survive all that.

"What should I do? What can i do?" He asked.

Edyta began walking as she spoke, on toward Niallus, towards the hill that she knew was there. She could feel the mud, and when she deviated slightly from the path, the grass beneath her shoes. She could feel the pull of gravity as she began to make her way uphill. It was all so real.

"Live," she responded simply, "with whatever time you have." She shrugged, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder as she did so. "Live as long as you're you. Be watchful of what lives inside you." Always, that was her credo in life.

The voices weren't any closer. She crested the hill and... there was no hill. There was nothing to see beyond it. Perhaps she should stay, but first... "Aside from your greenish pallor, you appear well enough to return to reality."

Am I?

"Allow me to send you back?"

Niallus listened to Laska's advice that she offered to him. How much time did he have left that was the question. The other question was, what happens when it takes over? For now, he pushed those thoughts out of his mind. Live in the now. "Thank you Edyta." He said with a smile.

As he took a look to try to get some detail of the area around him. He was about to say something about his new tint of green skin. Then he froze, a voice he heard. It didn't come from Laska. The sensation of hearing it made his skin crawl. Was he losing control of himself already?

The moment she pulled her hand away, there was silence. The voices and the humming he once heard was gone. "Did you..." He stopped himself. Trying to regain his composure, but struggling. When she mentioned sending him back, he spoke. "No wait. Can you give me your hand for a moment?" his hand held open for her. There was an idea that came to him. This was needed to test it "Trust me."

Edyta Laska's face was a study in wariness and, had she been able to draw energy in this place, Niallus might've felt the prickling sensation of a complete draw. After a moment, however, she held her hand out. It was small and dainty, with long slender fingers that seemed almost... delicate, but that was belied by the rough skin and callouses. It was a young woman's hand, but also a peasant's and a warrior's. Her eyes flicked up to his for a moment. "What is it?" she asked cautiously.

"Something interesting." Niallus took her hand with his. It was soft and gentle. Immediately, the sensations that she previously mentioned all came back to the Eskand at once. The sounds, the smells, all of it. The sensation felt something similar to breaking the surface of water, after being submerged for so long.

"You asked me if I could hear something." with his grip on her soft hands, the connection became stronger. "It seems that I can only hear and sense other things when I'm in direct contact with you." lifting their joined hands.

I'm the source of it, then. I'm creating it. Edyta furrowed her brow, businesslike, and nodded, pulling her hand away. "Thank you," she said quickly. "I think I'm the source of it, but there's someone I can talk to." She took a breath and released it, ignoring the sounds and sensations of home and family. "We should be getting back now. Who can say what kind of trouble the others might be in." She reached again, expectantly, for his hand.

When Laska let go of his hand. The sound of silence returned to Niallus once more. "You are welcome." He said to her taking a breath. "If you need help on this, you can ask me. It's the least I can do. After all, you did save my life, twice."

There was some hesitation in him for answering her about wanting to return. What if he loses control the moment he steps out of the greyspace. Swallowing that fear that was building up. He could only do what Laska suggested. Live. If it wasn't for him being infected, he would be dead. He gives her a nod taking hold of her hand once more. Ignoring the sounds and sensations Laska was emitting. "Yes."

They came back into the world just as the worst seemed to have ended. Roslyn was nearby, having killed something hideous. others were in various states of battered, bruised, and burnt, but all seemed more or less alive and already healed. So it was. So it seemed to have ended... or had it?




The rotten seed within Sven gurgled and cackled at the display of heroism that had hampered its unceremonious slaughter of the Yasoi fool. "A miracle it truly is-" the "Sven" raised his arms up in a Y-posture in jubiliation. His grin nearly matched that of the one that had its way with Ingrid deeper in the marshes. Blood began to pour out of his nostrils like he had just been struck there. Then his eyes, and ears and pores. Like a severely damaged pipe, he oozed off the dark red ichor, soon coming with chunks of flesh-like matter. This continued until he drowned in a contained pool of the stuff.

And from all this blood came the form of a large - twice the height of Sven himself and considerably larger - red creature. Grotesque did not begin to describe it. It looked like a morbidly obese man with flappy breasts, veins protruding out of its sides, a folded naval, and legs that were almost entirely consumed by that gut. And its head, not yet taken by the red folds of the horrible monster, lacked eyes but as it "peered" down at the humans that had come to Esmii's aid, they could just *feel* it staring at that. Clumps of hair were present on its bony scalp, and its mouth, perpetually agape, made with a tongue that rolled down to the tip of its toes. "-that fools such as thou have lived this long!" a distorted voice blurted out, fat arms risen as were Sven's in celebration.

As it lowered its girthy appendages, the right hand found itself wielding a massive butcher's cleaver made entirely of the same stuff that had just formed it. Once again, without mercy, it cast its wicked hatred upon Esmii with a downward slash of its weapon upon her.

The more observant of the bunch could notice the beast's belly was not entirely opaque - a tad bit of light revealed *something* inside the beast. Further sensing would recognize the shape of a person.

Watching his friend turn into a grotesque blob. His stomach churned, and his spine tingled. Was this still the effects of the Grey space that he and Laska were in a little while ago? It mattered not.

When the monster raised its weapon, ready to cut down the beloved of the original person of where that monster stood. Niallus rushed across the water to the Yasoi's aid. He drew in Manas, a lot of Manas. He created a strong barrier of Kinetic energy, to absorb and stop the attack. "Quickly get yourself healed Esmii."

The mighty cleaver descended, smashing into Niallus' barrier of "kinetic energy", vague as it was difficult to keep in its formless state. The barrier shattered but struck Niallus with an aftershock while Esmii could just barely sneak away once her spine had been made operational enough. The foul, crimson axe was yanked out of the fissured ground after the fact and a mocking gurgle was dedicated to the flock of sacrifices.

Then came the nun's frost. This time the demon did not just idly take punishment. In its inactive, fat hand was formed an identifical cleaver from its very flesh and blood. With a singular jab downward, the spreading, red corrupting clashed with the ice, preventing further progress. This did blind it - in spite of its missing eyes - the shot to its belly. The bullet merely ... Bounced off the fat abdomen. A strange result, one that wasn't caused by the thick layers of meat and red ichor but instead by a constant focus the monster had in channelling unseen layers of heat and air around its belly and head. If they were going to pierce through, they'd have to break its focus or stance somehow.

With a giant belch, the demon jubilantly rushed for the group with reckless abandon.

The demon was tough. He was, after all, a legendary tier five. Edyta did not have the time to think about which of the three this was. Screamer? Eater? Sacrifice? She threw a shield of half-formed stone up between her and a mighty blow, phasing into greyspace for but a second and coming out a few yards away from where she'd plunged in.

Screamer? Eater? Sacrifice!? She could smell her mother's pierogies, on the holidays when they could cook them. She could hear the sizzle of the frying pan and the chiming of the church bells.

In and out of reality, in more than one way. Then Niallus was cleaved nearly in half and she began rushing over to heal him, but he did not need her rescuing this time. He... healed in the most uncanny way, and she steered clear. Is it you we shall have to fight next?She prayed it would not be, but then she saw it: an opening as the demon raised an arm. The moment that she released her cryogenic spell, she could tell, just by muscle memory, that it had misfired. Yet, it struck true and blasted an arm clean off.

Edyta was usually not one to question gifts from the Eshiran. She'd been granted many already. Still, she'd felt herself get the formula partially wrong. She knew her spells!

It had hit, and she supposed that was all that matytered. Esmii was recovered as well, and a great boon, and Edyta was glad of it. She was glad of it but for the lingering feeling of unease in her stomach. Screamer... eater...

Oh no.Niallus got back up, with the blood of this thing in his veins. His left arm became distorted, bigger. With the others attacking it, causing it to stagger. Niallus stood in front of it. From hearing his friend's voice echoing from its gut. With his super powered left arm he gripped its stomach. "Time to die. You piece of shit." In a swift movement of his arm. His fingers dug into it, breaking the skin. Then he ripped it. A huge chuck of its flesh came off in his hand. Blood and guts came out of it like a river, covering Niallus from head to toe. The Eskandishman however was unfazed by this brutal act as he dug his friend out

# Blood Pool
Niallus dug his mutated arm into the bulging demon, twisting and burrowing his digits in there. With enough force, the gurgling and laughing monster began to shriek in horrendous pain. Blood burst out with immense pressure, until a massive fissure formed in the center of the belly.

Laska stood idle, unconvinced this was the end. Something was wrong.

"The sac- No, wait. Wait!"

She was just about ready to spring into action when the massive, red zit finally exploded in a wave of blood before the stoic Niallus. The monster fell back, arms raised in jubilation as the cleaves faded into dust. Out came the shape of a person in foetal position, in the centre of the massive splatter of blood where once stood the fat bloodgorger.

**He-Help me pleashe ...**

They heard, initially coming from the middle of that bloody ground zero.

**My friendsh, pleashe saaaave meeee ...**

The voice, it wasn't as clear this time, or rather its origins weren't. It felt like it was higher than it should be, and to the East.

Niallus, on the other hand, could barely register anything. His body was not taking kindly to this new symbiotic invasion. He fell to his knees, body burning up inside and his limbs unresponsive, barely a few meters from the person he had freed.

**Heeeee HEEEEEEEE!**

The voice from higher up cackled. Then, its progenitor looked down at them with a massive, obscene smile. Its form was all black and made of tar, limbs far too long and its eyes pure yellow.

**Youuuuuu did weeeelllllll!!!**

It just stayed there, on a tree, gawking at both the humans and the individual lying in the muddle of bloodgorger's blood.

Niallus fell to his knees, even though the nerves worryingin had been severely dulled in this state of, whatever it was. It seemed it had a toll. He wanted to check the body next to him, check if it was his friend, but his body was unresponsive. He began to breathe heavily, exhausted.

Niallus simply knelt there the pain he was suffering seemed to subside. The only problem was that he couldn't move. When the person that was next to himt up. All of the muscles in his body demanded only one thing to do.

Ru.

He tried his best but his body felt too heavy, unable to move. At best, he was able to raise his head so he could see the face of the person who was originally next to him. From how he was, it was like he was kneeling in respect, but at this moment. He was awaiting judgment.

The Evil Smile relished in the Pandemonium. And once carte blanche was given by hiseminence, the impossibly thin and slimy creature flexed its legs and propelled itself at speeds that rivalled Desmond's exciting escape. The Magusjaeger had made it through the portal, but not the others.

"IN. MY. BELLY!!!!!!!" its massive maw was unhinged and the endless abyss of the Smiler's gullet awaited them. Except, it wasn't going for any individual, but rather the portal itself!

As Niallus knelt there at the mercy of the Demon, he realized that no one was going to help him this time. It felt natural, always having to help others, but now no one was there for him. Or maybe they got tired of helping him. Either way, He felt pitiful and insignificant compared to his predecessors' accomplishments. Despite believing that his life lessons and mistakes would make him a better person. Now it feels like nothing but a lie.

As footsteps approached, Niallus saw that it was Esmii. He didn't understand why she was helping him when she had a chance to escape. Before he could say anything, she spoke and began to heal him. Esmii's healing powers enveloped Niallus, mending his wounds and revitalizing his strength, filling him with a renewed sense of hope and determination.

Looking over Esmii's shoulder, Niallus saw Evil Smile trying to eat the portal. He wanted to help, and his mana colony responded, resonating in his core. Maybe this was Oraff's way of giving him a chance to protect his friends. However, he knew that all actions in this world have consequences.
*I'm sorry my friends*

*I'm sorry Hylaeni, how I'd wish to hold you in my arms one last time*

Thinking of his friends and family, Niallus expelled some of the manas and dashed towards Evil Smile. The manas stored in his body multiplied rapidly, and he conjured not one, but multiple Arcane Swords into reality. Void energy flooded from his system, coating the blades of light with dark energy. As he swung both swords, void energy rippled from the swing as if it was eagerly wanting to strike Evil Smile. The air crackled with power as the Arcane Swords sliced through the darkness, aiming to vanquish the malevolent force threatening the portal and his companions. The moment was intense, filled with a mix of fear and determination, as Niallus unleashed his full power to protect those he cared for.

Evil Smile was a scourge of life on Sipenta. He had appeared seven times within recorded history and, on each occasion, had been responsible for thousands of deaths. In one instance, the tier five demon had swallowed the armada of Stathicles the Redeemed and singlehandedly caused the downfall of his Great Thalak Empire. On three other occasions, he had directly brought about the coming of Belthagor, Grand Demon of Arrogance and one of the Three Kings of Hell.

This time, he was about to die, and his death toll was only in the hundreds.

The demon's beady eyes widened. He tried to reel back out of the way, but it was going to be too little, too late. A being of this power, taken down by one man!? It felt like some scarce-believable myth of old. "Master, I am lost!" he wailed, perhaps not nearly as pathetic as he sounded, but aware that appealing to Belthagor's immense pride was the best course.

The Grand Demon cared not for his minion, however. Evil Smile had served his purpose and there was a deliciously dramatic woman in front of him: Sven's beloved. It was time to make her disappear. There was a second: a moth drawn to his flame, and a potentially useful one. His magic overpowering hers, he reeled her in.

So, Evil Smile did all that was within his power. His jaws spread wider, his eyes glowed and, from the near-endless void of his gut came demon after demon of the second, third, and even fourth tiers. They spilled into the world, released from the monster who had consumed them, and set upon Niallus.

A dozen or more fell immediately to his mighty strike, but there were still more and Evil Smile remained, as yet, alive and barreling towards the others!

With the Demon that he attacked recoiling and wanting to keep his distance from this Eskandishman. Demons erupted from Evil Smile's gut. Those demons were grand and diverse. They all charged at Niallus all willing to give their lives to put him down for their master.

Niallus stood ready, ready to strike. He was done holding back; the way his mana surged with newfound power, it seemed that he couldn't hold back now. One demon recklessly charged ahead of the others. Wanting the honour of killing Niallus. The demon soared off the ground towards him. Niallus was not given an inch, standing his ground. Swiftly stepping to the side of the demon's trajectory. Following it up, Niallus' Void Sword cut straight through the demon's neck, removing it from his shoulders. The body flopped to the floor behind Niallus as he wasted little time as some other demons continued their advance on him. Niallus let go of his concentration on one of his swords, causing it to fade from reality. Grabbing the leg of the one he just decapitated. Swinging its body as a club with kinetic energy. The corpse collided with the closest one. A sickening thud was heard as the demon's bodies crashed into one another. Even loud enough to mask the sound of demon bones breaking. Not wasting time Niallus stamped on the demon's head with the sheer force of his foot, crushing its skull.

This was getting him nowhere, as he could see more and more demons were coming out of Evil Smile's gut. That was his target. Not these distractions. The third one charged, Niallus, responded with an advance of his own, not backing down. The demon swung its heavy, in an attempt to behead the Eskandishman. Niallus slid on his knees, avoiding the demon's attack only just. Bringing his last Void Sword into the gut of the demon. Blood splattered everywhere, but Niallus didn't break focus. Like a great hunter, he was determined to get his prey. Small scratches that he had received, instantly recovered. You are not getting away. he thought as he gave chase to Evil Smile.

"You think you can take me on so easily!?" the demon taunted, his great maw opening to truly disgusting dimensions. "Up until now, I've only been using a mere five percent of my power. Now, let's see how you fare against my... BITING BLAST!"

From his mouth erupted a colossal beam of energy so powerful that it turned the very air around it into unstable plasma, that reality itself seemed to waver, and this was headed straight for the portal and the others!

However, it had left an opening. Niallus would have to choose: block the gargantuan attack or kill Evil Smile and let it hit?

Seeing that he had the opportunity to attack and kill Evil Smile, Niallus wanted to. But the urge to keep his friends protected took a higher priority. Niallus dashed across the boggy marsh his Manas heeded his call once more. He was going to need a lot to stop this attack. Hardening the air in front of him as he stood in waiting for the eye of the storm to connect. Void energy flooded from his system, strengthening his barrier.

The beam clashes with his barrier. The sheer force of the impact pushed Niallus further and further back. His feet kicked up muddy mass while they scraped across the surface. The edges of his void kinetic barrier began to warp, was it failing? Then parts began to splinter away. His arms burned from the sheer heat of the attack even the skin on his forearms and parts of his face began to feel it, his nerves screaming in sheer agony from this chaos. His body did its best to hold back the injuries, healing him to some degree, but even that was slowly faulting as the damage was just outpacing it.

He gritted his teeth, trying to hold his own. Digging deep into his very core, using whatever he could spare and worry about the consequences later. His magical defence was struggling, but it was able to hold some amount of the power that Evil Smile used in his attack. Niallus didn't have long before he'd lose control of the magic that he held. Pouring what Manas was left of his defence spell and some more from his system. He manipulated what he had into an Arcane Lance. He could feel his grip on slipping rapidly from the sheer density of magic. He aimed at Evil Smile, and threw it with all his might. The lance shot off, making a straight shot to Evil Smile.

The demon was winning, his beady little eyes wide with cruel glee as he savoured Niallus' impending annihilation. Then came the Eskandishman's counterattack. He shouldn't have been able to counter like that. No human should've! Evil Smile's eyes widened some more, if that was possible, but in fear this time.

A river of pure burning light and heat burst through the middle of the vendemon's beam of darkness, racing up its length and right into the mouth of Evil Smile. At the last moment, he tried to flinch away.

It was too late.

The arcane lance punched through his mouth with a meaty, sizzling 'pop!' and then out his back, melting him from the inside. The demon let out a sick gurgling wail, wavered for a moment where he stood, and fell forward, smoking. There was a tremor that came up through Niallus' boots, and the few who had not yet passed through the portal twisted for a second, feeling it as well.

Evil Smile was dead.

Belthagor floated there in repose, beautiful and terrifying, his face an expressionless mask of thought. Then, he scowled. "Sorry, old friend. You were weaker than I thought." He alighted upon the ground and, immediately, where his feet met it, it began to burn with unholy fire.

Certainly, Esmii tried with all of her strength. Roslyn did what she might, but their attacks did not so much as reach him, dissipating yards away. Belthagor walked toward Niallus without breaking his stride, the latter of the two dragged by invisible chains in his wake. "You," he admitted, "are stronger than I thought."

The grand demon opened his mouth and a milky grey-white smoke began curling out of it, spreading quickly and reaching for all three of the others.

After the colossal lance of light and heat streaked across the gap between himself and his target. Niallus felt something off in his system as if this counterattack had taken from his very core. He gave a triumphant chuckle as his shot in the dark, his final stand against Evil Smile, came to an end.

When the demon collapsed to the floor dead, the shockwave that was caused made Niallus drop to his knees. His breathing is rapid and shallow. I didn't think I'd be able to pull that off... his mind screamed. His arms were covered in burns and blisters. His newfound healing abilities seemed to be working on repairing the damaged cells in his forearms. It wasn't as rapid as the previous injuries, was he reaching his limit of it?

Hearing a voice only uttering a single word, he immediately lifted his head. As if he knew he was the one the voice was talking to. The Grand Demon was slowly approaching him. His two friends, Roslyn and Esmii, are dragged behind him against their own will. Niallus had already been through so much. Killing strong demons. But a Grand Demon. Impossible. When the Grand Demon spoke to him, Niallus saw unholy smoke leave the demon's mouth. The Eskandishman couldn't move. He was at his mercy, feeling the smoke slowly creep up his body. It crept into his mouth, filling his lungs. Every corner of his being was engulfed by smoke. His mind was being invaded by the Demons will. He tried to keep it at bay. But it wasn't successful.

*Submit to me*

The voice invading his head commanded. Pain consumed his body. His body, his skin bent to his will. This was something that Niallus wasn't going to escape from. All of his personality slowly ripped from him. His likes are gone. The memories of his friends, one by one, each one was ripped away. The last memory that was left to go was his dear Yasoi, Hylaeni. He desperately tried to keep her in his thoughts, but it was also gone.




Nathaniel Stormlight



Location: The Lunarian temple.



Nathaniel stood with his mouth slightly open at the drama slash romantic scene happening. He was impressed by the boldness that Daphne showed in taking this step forward by kissing someone that they only just met. He shifted his body turning to look away to give them some privacy.

It was only when he heard the sounds of footsteps echoing through the silent temple followed by the sound of a closing door. His gaze went back thinking that both would have left for the bedroom. Only Daphne was there. Did Katherine just walk away? He took a deep breath, trying to think of what to say to help her. Honestly, what could he say in this situation? He has very little experience when it comes to romance; he's had chances, but they've always slipped through his grasp. A heavy sigh came out of him as he watched Daphne walk to the pool looking at her gaze up to the Moon and and the constellations of stars partly blocked by the moving clouds. His gaze went back to Daphne, he wanted to say something to her, something to help her. He opened his mouth and then closed it, still struggling to find the words. Hearing her praying to Seluna, for her guidance.

Then he watched Daphne stand once more watching her slowly make her way to the door that Katherine went through. Hearing her ask through a closed door. Nathaniel couldn't take it anymore; he had to say something to Daphne. "Daphne.” speaking softly as he approached her. "Look, I don't really have much experience in this,” gesturing to the situation that is unfolding. "Never lose confidence in yourself. The moment you do. It can affect people who are close to you.”

"You said that I'm your friend. Well, that's my advice as your friend. You took a bold step with that kiss.”

"Give her some time. She was there when Sir Abel was murdered.” he smiled. "After some time, when she's been able to untangle everything that has happened so far. She'll come round. She'll talk about your affection. For now, this is the only way into her room,” he turned on his heels to walk away "Stay here until she comes out.”

Once back at the main chamber of the temple, his gaze went to the front door that he barricaded. Then it went to the open sky that was above the Holy pool of Seluna. As he approached, the footsteps of his boots echoed across the empty room. Sitting on the floor, it would have felt wrong to him to sit on a bench. He looked up, gazing at the eternal night sky. He took a deep breath. Wondering how long it would be until the all-clear is and he's allowed to leave. He still had his satchel attached to him. Removing it, he went through the contents. Everything inside seemed to be safe and secure.

He pulled out a notepad. Resting it on his lap, he pulled a charcoal pencil. Opening the notebook, there were portraits of various people: A woman on one page, a man on another. A teenage boy then a teenage girl. Various pages all have different people or objects sketched onto the pages. "Might as well make use of my time, until the all clear is given, or something happens.” A smile comes across his face as he begins sketching the moon, the stars and the sky.



Mentions/Interactions: Daphne @PrinceAlexus, Kat @SpicyMeatball



Nathaniel Stormlight



Location: The Lunarian temple.



Nathaniel heard the subtle noise of bells echoing from the centre of the city. "An alarm?” he mumbled listening to what the guards were shouting out, relaying what they had investigated to the public. Staying indoors for now would be smart. They've likely had practice drills on procedures such as this, in case something like this does indeed happen. His pulse jumps for a moment, thinking about the other sages who weren't in the Alchemy chambers when he went with Eris when they went to discuss the upcoming expedition.

His mind wandered for a moment, wondering if she would be ok; he shook his head almost immediately, trying to keep focus. She'll be ok, she's smart and very skilled. Right now you have a role to perform. Help keep these people safe until the all-clear alarm is sounded. Every urge in his body told him to go out and help the guards investigate what had happened, but with him still being a new resident, it would likely only bring suspicion to him just turning up.

His attention was brought back to the present. Hearing Katherine speak about the cellar that she could only just remember. A cellar could be a good idea. "We move to the accommodation quarters.” he said softly. "We can have two people in each room, so we aren't too crowded in one.” I am unsure of how big the quarters actually are. Likely small rooms for people who have just had the clothes on their backs, but they could have what's needed.

Nathaniel nods "Yes that's my name.” giving her a respectful bow. When she spoke about rewarding him with baking. A smile brushed across his face, "There is really no need....” but when it felt like he wasn't for debate, Nathaniel submitted to it. ” Ok, perhaps you could teach me a few recipes, I'll be happy with that.”

Daphne spoke about him getting a bit cleaned up. The blood that stained his coat cracked across the surface, a sign that it had dried. He could feel the irritation on his scalp as the blood in his hair was starting to dry too. The offer to wash himself up was nice, no doubt there was likely some amounts of blood leaked through his collar and down his abdomen. With a little focus and a trace of his fingers under his tunic, he could feel the dry patches. "As much as I would like to bathe and wash all this off.” he said pointing to himself and the blood on his attire. "I'm afraid that will have to wait. At least until I'm out of here and back at the inn. It would be unethical for Aurelian to bathe themselves clean inside a temple of the Moonmaiden.” Gods forbid, he's already set foot in a place without consent bringing a corpse with him, getting blood everywhere, rearranging the furniture, lighting a brazier without permission from any of the priests. Then to strip down to wash himself, he wasn't surprised that Selina herself doesn't make him burst into flames as punishment. He would just have to endure it for now.

After listening to what Daphne had to say, his attention went back to everyone else out there in the town, still debating whether or not to go out there and help. But his attention quickly snapped as he saw Daphne kiss Katherine. His mouth slightly opened, not expecting this. Didn't Katherine just say she was not long into this? Bit bold of Daphne. He cleared his throat, regaining his composure, somehow. "Well, if we do go to the Accommodation rooms, I suggest we hide out in a group. But if you two want some privacy, to sort things out. I don't mind taking Persephone to another room to hold out until the all clear.”



Mentions/Interactions: Daphne @PrinceAlexus, Kat @SpicyMeatball Eris, @The Muse



Nathaniel Stormlight



Location: The Lunarian temple.



Nathaniel shook his head, the blood that was in his hair was slowly beginning to dry, making his head itch. He let out a heavy sigh; from what he could gather, he looked like a complete mess. Probably smelled bad too. What he wouldn't give to have a nice soak in the bath to wash this blood, grime and Goddess knows what.

His attention went to the front door that was closed. The large wooden doors could be indeed beneficial for a defensive purpose. Assuming that they don't get obliterated. "For we need to get these two to a safe location, further inside. The temple for sanctuary.” Nathaniel mentioned to Daphne. His gaze shifted to Katerine, then to The redhead Persephone, then back to Daphne. "Can you help them grab their stuff? Once done, have them hide somewhere safe. Keep them safe.” A smile came across his face when he spoke. "I can move some of the benches in front as a makeshift barricade. The best we can do is hold a defence. Until we get help.”

Nathaniel brought a hand to his temple, thinking of another strategic idea that could be applied that could ensure their survival. With the limited amount of people here, it could be somewhat of a blessing, since there are only four people here. So long as they they stay quiet. But for now, perhaps barring one of the big days, it will be the best idea.

Striding towards some of the benches. He tested its weight to see if it was easy to move; it was doable, but no doubt it'd be difficult. Placing his hands on one of the ends of a bench, he pushes it, the legs of the bench grinding on the stone surface of the temple floor. It takes quite a few attempts to push one to the closed door. Eventually, the end of the bench made a solid thump as it hit the door.

Once one was in place he went to push another one to the same door, then another. Three benches were in place, Nathaniel wiped the sweat that was building up on his forehead with his coat sleeve. He wasn't done. Spotting a brazier near the entrance of the door that wasn't barricaded, he decided that it would help indicate that people entered by seeing their shadows pass on the walls. With a click of his fingers, a small cinder erupted from the tips of his thumbs and fingers, and then he let the cinders drift on the flint wood that was left in the brazier, seconds past, then the wood became fuel to a flame that quickly came to life. Satisfied with it, a smile came across his face; it felt more like a mask at this point since he had no idea if this was going to work, but as long it gave the others hope, perhaps it'd be enough. Walking back to Daphne , "Anything you can add to help, feel free; otherwise, we should find a safe place in the temple, so we aren't out in the open.” his attention went to Katerine. "Priestess, is there a safe place for us to go inside? If there is, let's grab what we can, and you lead the way.”



Mentions: Daphne @PrinceAlexus, Kat @SpicyMeatball



Nathaniel Stormlight



Location: The Lunarian temple.



Nathaniel didn't seem to fuss about his coat and shirt; he would likely have another coat in his trunk at the inn; if not, he would just buy another one. Being a Sage at times was, at times, a dirty job, but sometimes the dirt, or in this case, blood, could be beneficial.

When the redhead regained consciousness, Nathaniel stepped back, to give her some space. Looking her over, trying his best not to look too much like an oddball. When Persephone mentioned water, Nathaniel looked around for a cup or something. There were two goblets with a Lunarian decorative trim on the metalwork. Could they have belonged to someone who just forgot about it, or was it from the temple, either way, it'll do.

Taking the goblet in his hand, the coldness that enveloped his hand was a sign that it hadn't been used, tilting it so he could see the inside of it; it looked bone dry. Satisfied with using the goblet, Nathaniel focused, taking a steady breath, calling on the magic in his system, and it responded to its master's call. The air became heavy around him, mist began to form. The molecules of moisture in the mist began to magnify and multiply. His free hand controls the small tempest of magic, "Don't put too much magic into it” Reinforcing himself, placing the goblet under the small amount of mist that begins to form a small cloud in front of him, and freshwater slowly begins to form. Going into the goblet.

He opened his eyes once more. Watching the goblet fill up, he knew he couldn't just keep relying on magic all the time. "Here you go.” He said with a little muse in his tone. Listening to what Persephone was saying about a Golden Wolf over the lake. He didn't think much about it, but he made a mental note of it, in case any of the other sages knew anything about it.

There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of Nathaniel's core. Friends? Even though Daphne and himself only shared a small dance and encountered this dead body. Could this be seen as a sign of friendship? Perhaps. He was good at making friends, but his family name often made it difficult, putting a burden on himself. That was one of the reasons why he'd often choose to distance himself from the other children growing up; it felt counterproductive since, at times,s, he can be quite charming and honest with people. But now wasn't the time for those thoughts in his head; building relationships up in Dawnhaven is good since he'll be here for a while.

”So, what's the plan Daphne? In case whatever caused that comes back.” he politely asks while he points towards the corpse that he placed on the table. "Because the more I think about it, the more I understand that it wasn't a Blight-born attack, but something else.” his gaze shifts towards the entrance to the temple, the cold outside. He slowly made his way to Daphne, "While hauling, I could feel faint traces of magic on it that didn't belong to the victim.” he continued, "I'm not afraid to get dirty in a fight.” he pauses for a moment, understanding that wasn't the best choice of words. ”Regardless, I can help you protect these two.”



Mentions: Daphne @PrinceAlexus, Kat @SpicyMeatball



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