YummyYummy

The Hourglass Order

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“I’ve got a question, actually.”

A tall, Virangish teen steps up among the fray with the droplets of rain seemingly avoiding her as if she has some sort of aversion field around her. Jocasta would be pleased to witness Zarina elevating her gravitational loops for everyday purposes and seemingly without any effort whatsoever. The lack of confident grin suggests that this wasn’t going to be some banter or something of a too personal nature, “Do you remember a name or a face?” she asks plainly, arms crossed and her proximity to Jocasta making her closeness to the quest giver known to the newer faces, “I remember Abdel getting some scraps back when I told him his old family’s name. Maybe we can find someone from your old town as a lead?”

As they go through the portal, Zarina keeps at the back of the group so she could catch the powerful Tethered before she’d leave them to complete the task, “Hey, Jo,” she pipes up and twists to peer down at the blonde, “Save the coin, I owe you after Torragon.” she flashes a gentle smile to her friend, “Do you remember a pet? When you were a kid, I mean.” she inquires, her voice is hushed enough to keep it between them, “No kid could resist micro-creatures.” she giggles and continues, “Maybe it’d do you good - Having a little companion to care for. I noticed you were good with them. Would you like me to find something on the side?”

The Hourglass Order

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Velles 5th

^{Location: Au Boeuf Rouge - Ersand'Enise
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 4:XX HE
Characters: Ingrid @dragonpiece, Kaspar @Wolfieh,
Maura @Ti, Zarina, Zarra @BreathOfTheWoof
Anna, Au Boeuf Rouge's Staff, Carving Contestants}

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Au Boeuf Rouge, a renowned establishment that catered to the most wealthy in Ersand’Enise. Not quite a restaurant - the service industry had yet to truly blossom - but it provided chefs of considerable quality for households that sought to have feasts for the evening. Occasionally the building was used for events where servants would essentially serve as waiters with menus proposed to the rich. It was a first for Zarina, and she did take some time to absorb the many aromas coming from the kitchens.

A twig was given to her by Maura, prompting the young Virangish to blink rapidly whilst pinching it at the base, “... What exactly is it? Do I just snap it or burn it?” her eyebrows rose as she was left perplexed. Still, she stored the peculiar item into the pocket of her apron.

“Yeah, no, we’re going to get creamed by the competition.” confirmed Zarina as she adorned the fresh, white apron and tied her hair in a way that it’d avoid being a hazard for the coming challenge, “So we gotta be smart about it. Starting with our dish choice.” she peered over at Maura, “Apart from a singular Virangish pepper, the cost shouldn’t be too exorbitant, I reckon.” she then pulled the knives from the slots to inspect each one, nodding in satisfaction after a brief inspection of the equipment.

The Virangish lady’s attention then went to Ingrid, “Glad to see you’re not too shaken after earlier today.” she chuckled, “I’m going to have to insist that you don’t grace us with Eskandish delights - or anything Eskandish whatsoever - during this cook-off.” Zarina had plucked the last knife out and passed her digits over the surface of the blade. This was what she was going to use to carve the proper cut out of the carcass once she had properly treated it, “So, I propose A Boeuf Bourguignon. It’s like Beef stew, but with a specific Burgundy Wine you can buy in the winery here. Very Perrench.”

A few taps of her index to the tip of the blade left her with her lips pursed before she waved the blade in Ingrid’s direction, “I’ll leave you to decide what comes with the main meat and sauce.” her attention then went to Zarra and Kaspar, “The competition is a butcher and a chef,” the tip of the knife as pointed right at them, “So, instead I’d trust you guys to run interference on the other teams. They’re better than us, so we gotta play like dicks.”

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The carving room. A very spacious set of rooms where the contestants could bring their creatures to slaughter and later butcher them. Zarina, being who she was, opted for the carcass of a perfectly average cow. Of course, as the rules stipulated, she had to butcher it, meaning the whole process had to be completed, from emptying, to skinning to carving out the perfect slice. She sighed at the sight, but winced at the sounds of hoofs and calls of animals that echoed through the rooms. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

”Hi! Food, yum?” greeted Anna as she pointed at the carcass.

“Well hey you,” Zarina replied back with far less enthusiasm, though she could muster a smile, “That’s mine, yeah.”

Kikimoras was with her and on him were various bags with supplies to prepare the meats, most likely. A convenient giant to handle dumb labour for this minuscule girl, ”Luck good! Win yes.”

“Hah! You’re on you little shit.” Zarina smirked right as Anna did the same. They didn’t need to speak the same language to understand their fiery desire to win.

Zarina’s Plan for the Carving:

❖ She is going to begin by cleaning her workspace, the carcasse and get some water boiling in the basin. The tail will be severed and the body will be dipped in the wanted to make the skinning easier.

❖ A marinade of soy sauce, rice vinegar, garlic, water and grated and dried Virangish pepper kept at a minimum to not burn some Perrench tongues!

❖ Once skinned, the animal will be emptied and the head severed along with the hooves. The carcass is ready to be carved. From there, she will show the world, after a good couple of months, what a dancer can do with a pair of sharp blades.

❖ Lacking a beat, she will lose her tempo. And so, she will snap the twig ...

The Hourglass Order

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Within the crevice Zarina had detected during the Halassa race, there was a trap door that revealed a chest containing ancient Darhannic relics. As always with lost treasures, there were traps as well with the Virangish adventurer nearly succumbing to a pitfall. The hole clearly led to something much deeper. Her attention was first on the contents of the chest she had bothered to find:

❖ One Half of a scarab with a left eye engraved onto its shell, representing the Seer of What Has Been. It is blue in colour.
❖ A six-pointed star.
❖ An old bronze hourglass with sands that start red and turn black as they flow through the middle.
❖ A Parchment Scroll with writing similar to what is inscribed on the nearby wall.

Zarina then peered down into the hole. It wasn’t too deep, as even with the dim lightning she could distinguish a floor a few feet down, Like fuck I’m going down there alone. with the newly acquired items stored in a leather bag she had brought, she set off to gather a few people she could trust to not completely mess things up as they snooped around.

❖ Ayla, someone I think I can trust with anything. If anything, she’ll keep our spirits up in these dank and lonely passages.
❖ Jocasta, a powerful person and someone I very much consider a friend. If things go south, she’s reliable to at worst get us out of the gutter.
❖ Ingrid, another powerful individual and someone that at least has a reason to not fuck me over. Decent person, no reasons to overthink.
❖ Desmond, I know the least about among the four. Said to be competent and can handle himself without magic. Probably has the skills to handle creepy undergrounds.

The team was gathered and they were now back where Zarina had left off, with Jocasta suggesting a translation of the parchment, which matched what was written on the wall. Zarina revelled in the fascinating goodies she had acquired. All of which would make fine additions to her future home. The parchment got her to raise a brow, “I uh, I can try to translate. Can't promise much, though.” her Zaqhory was rather underwhelming, let alone ancient Zaqhory. Nonetheless, they all shared roots to Inipori languages.

As expected, she wasn’t able to make out everything, but she noticed that the matching lines are prefaced by a word that meant something like, "read" while non-matching lines refer to the matching lines. They all have a word that she thinks essentially means, "respond." They were since down into the ruins where the walls held even more scriptures, and dangers lurked at every corner.

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A Trapped Friend

The group scrambled to figure out what the items and words meant, leaving them vulnerable to attacks. Luckily, Ingrid was quick to pick up on the incoming threat.

“Uh-oh.” Zarina was late to react and looked over her shoulder to notice the juvenile wyrm rear its head and threaten the group. While Ayla tried to figure stuff out, Zarina was more on the defensive with a blade drawn, “Puzzle or not, we’ve got the welcoming party to address first.” Zarina tilted her head to prompt a crack before attempting to zero-in on the creature's nervous system with her soothing chemical attack, "A pleasant call”. Ayla added to the effort by singing to the beast, eventually getting it to stay still and eye the group warily.

"Lovely," Jocasta whispered, "I didn't have to blow it up, but how do we get it to leave?" the creature was perhaps only about thirty or forty years old, regarded them warily with its underdeveloped eyes, not budging for better or worse. “Just don't look like prey.” Zarina stared down the creature, adamant and tall for a human. She exhaled softly from her nose and attempted to passively add to the soothing effects of her ability. If it wanted us dead, it would have done so. Keep calm. It looks young, but unwell.

The dragon proved very resistant to chemical magic. It appeared that something else may be agitating it as well.

"Go to sleep, little one, leave the nice humans alone, go to sleep little one, nap and go away for some time." sang Ayla with Zarina’s chemical assistance.

However, a particular tone appeared to soothe it somewhat. It groaned, flicked out its massive tongue, and appeared to look upward, towards the trapdoor that they came from. Then, it lurched forward, passing by the humans and looking up at the trap door, bumping it open. It was much too large to fit through, and too weak to break through. It let out a long, low moan that echoed through the underground chamber's cavernous interior.

Ayla suggested using binding to let it free and Jocasta agreed, “It wants out. I agree with Ayla, then.” remarked Zarina. Ingrid would add that it looked unhealthy, Looking as though it was trapped here. Can’t imagine what it would even eat … a dreadful thought indeed. After keeping it calm for a while and opening a path for it, it eventually ascended and found the freedom it coveted. Although, before leaving, the critter return, peeked out of the hole, and stared at Ingrid.

Bleb.

A big lick for the road as a thank you, “Awww.” Zarina giggled before waving the creature goodbye.

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Into the Unknown

Zarina scratched the back of her head, still amused by the whole situation, “Right, back to it.” she whipped out the scarab from her satchel and hovered it over the hole, “Man, does fitting appropriate shapes in stuff feels enticing somehow.” as Zarina inserted it, however, Jocasta shouted, “Wait!” but she was too late. A section of the wall began to slide back. Then, from above, behind, and both sides, four other slabs slid back. Hundreds of pointy stone darts hurtled towards the group. With Ayla being struck particularly hard on the arm.

No! Zarina internally screamed, Not her! she rushed to try and help her best friend, attempting to shield her from more debris. Luckily nothing more came of the rockfall. As the stones slid away, a dark narrow passage was revealed beyond, both beckoning to the group and filling them with a strange apprehension. Jocasta, meanwhile, reached for Ayla. "Ordammit, Ayla, I'm sorry!" She pulls the material from some vines and begins healing. "Also, I think the inscription mattered. We were probably supposed to say something when opening the door to avoid the traps." Zarina grit her teeth, Eshit, she’s right. Think Zaz, THINK!

Fortunately, Ayla was healed both quickly and completely. After squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, Jocasta looked up worriedly and twisted. "We sure we wanna do this, people?" Zarina brushed the sweat off her forehead, “May as well keep going. Maaaaaybe hold back on fitting stuff into things so eagerly.” she turned to Ayla, “You gonna be alright, Kitty?”

But all these traps. The symbols. The shape of the walls. I hope it’s not … she shook her head. The group was in agreement and they moved on with Jocasta taking point while carrying the bag of relics on her lap.

Then, with newfound caution, the group began to travel down the hallway, those with some arcane ability lighting the way. The walls and ceilings appeared to be covered in paintings and plasterwork from differing ages: some dating back to truly ancient times and others more recent, perhaps 'only' a couple hundred years old, often partially covering their ancient counterparts. Cobwebs clung fast or dangled, ghostlike, everywhere they looked. Insects skittered about, and the musty dead smell of dust and distant decay hung thick and scratchy in the air. As she wheeled along at the head of the quintet, Jocasta squinted up at some of the frescoes, trying to make them out.

While Jocasta and Zarina struggled to make things out and Ingrid was more concerned about looking ahead for possible dangers, something caught Desmond's eye: They were pictures of people ... bringing offerings and bowing before great snakelike semi humanoid beings. Desmond quietly whistled as he tapped Ingrid's arm and pointed to the images of the Snake like people, "Looks like we're back on the island. This'll be interesting"

Jocasta's and Zarina's examinations revealed some other things that Desmond had also noticed. The people in the pictures seemed to be surrounded by mummy-like figures, almost as if they were walls around them. Zarina blinked, “Huh.” she looked over at Desmond, “An Island, you say? May need to spit out what you know before a Monsigneus with no wings comes to eat us next. Or, like, half-human Wyrms like those.” she pointed at the illustration. “Fish people. Short rock people. Now slithering people?” Zarina tilted her head as she beckoned Ingrid for a response, “It sounds like a few of you know what's up.”

“The All-Knower”, something repeated frequently by Ingrid and Desmond. They knew something about these creatures. Ayla and Zarina were beginning to prod more are the two, while Jocasta seemed more concerned with the path, or rather paths ahead.

"Which way?" Jocasta asked, enhancing her eyesight and trying to shine some light down both. Faint sounds of more small animals echoed up one. A whiff of sulfur came from the other. Both seemed very long and she could not see to the end. Jocasta scowled as she both sensed and listened. "It's... weird," she murmured, "patchy, almost." She shook her head. "I can sense some things, and... there's a weird kind of... energy like... snaking through the place, but a lot of it is just..." She trailed off and glanced up to meet the other four pairs of eyes, wrapping her arms around herself. "Void." She swallowed and her eyes darted about. "Guys, it's me. You know I'm not one to sit things out from any kind of fear, but I'm really getting the feeling that this is a bad, bad idea."

Patchy? Void? But- This isn’t a Pyramid. It’s just some shitty ruins. And yet, I can help but feel the same, wicked thing she is. Zarina’s heart was beating faster. Ayla being hurt was already disheartening enough, but with her piecing things together, the whole prospect of exploration was getting exponentially less appealing by the second. A decision had to be made, still.

Jocasta forced herself to put hands to wheels, unwrapping her arms from her body, and rolled up beside Ayla, the two of them ensconced in a little bubble of light. The black thing almost appeared to have a yawning blue mouth, great and gaping, surprisingly squarish. Something about it didn’t sit right. "I... don't think those are moons... or the VOID. It almost looks like some kind of primitive god-monster." Strangely, it didn't appear to have eyes. It was all very symbolic looking. Perhaps it was the planet and moons? But why so much blue? Why so squarish?

Finally, the notion of Sirrahi was out of the bag, courtesy of Ingrid. From how she and her friends befriended them to how some kissing may have happened. Even in these unnerving times, there was a will to tease within them all. Worries of them staying in one place for too long, however, was very much founded with Desmond bringing up the issue firsthand. Glad that I wasn’t wrong about his expertise.

Desmond is correct that the group was lingering too long in one spot. Zarina and Jocasta both began to feel an unplaceable kind of energy starting to build up in the distance.

Ingrid was enraptured by the strange old paintings, however, that clearly depicted Sirrahi. At first, the people appeared to be terrified of them, but most of those appeared to have been plastered over. There are a few Sirrahi that seem to be covered or splashed with blood. A few humans appeared to be lying prone on the ground before them. The rest were covered by plaster pillars or newer paintings depicting the eyes of Vashdal and other religious motifs.

Further on, the humans appear to be worshipping the Sirrahi, almost, bringing all sorts of food, stone, and material offerings. The direction that oozed of the smell of sulphur was the most attractive to the group, as the Blackflag duo confirmed they were telltale signs of Sirrahi activity. Familiarity bred a sense of security, it seemed. Sensing something approaching through the other tunnel, the group quickly steered right.

An inhuman howl cut through them like an icy dagger and the rumble of sliding stones caused the entire place to shake. Jocasta bolted from her wheelchair, floating down the tunnel, pale as a ghost.

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“There are Hundreds!”

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The Horde!

"Hundreds!" For a split second, as they glanced back, there was a flash of movement and what looked like a human face, but .... monstrous. Then the stone slid shut, blocking it from pursuing them further. "We're trapped," Jocasta laments, "trapped in here with them! Can't you sense them? Can't you feel them!?" Her hands were visibly shaking. She seemed to be close to a full-on panic.

Vashdal’s Nightmare … What are these things? Oraff. Dami. What am I seeing?!

Zarina, the moment she could sense them too, got a tad paler. Immediately, she drew her darker shamshir and clenched it uncharacteristically tight, “We're not trapped.” she looked around, “Worst case, we dig through and condemn behind us.” still, she did her best to locate SOMETHING, like a hole to insert an item, “Need some lighting here, people!” In their panic, the group stepped incautiously. A floor tile was depressed. They could hear things clanking and moving behind the walls. There was a very slight but nonetheless-perceptible low-pitched hum. "What did we just trigger?" Jocasta demanded. "Do you guys hear that?" the hum was incessant, despite Ayla attempts to suppress it, it was just everywhere. Ingrid confirmed that the sound was similar to machinery they had heard from the Sirrahi. A good sign, perhaps?

The hum continued and the walls pulsed with strange energy. There did not appear to be any sources of light that they could recognize. If there were, they were inert. The five of them continued deeper and the smell grew stronger. On the walls there appeared to be a continuation of the old paintings. Still ancient, they are somewhat more recent. The drawings represented humans being devoured by Sirrahi, although hordes of monstrous humanoids wasn’t something Ingrid or Desmond had seen prior. Also more kiss teasing. At least the levity removed some of the fear and stress they were all feeling.

"Let's get to the bottom of this bitch. I wanna kiss me a snake person too."

“What is wrong with you guys today?”

The suddenly, "Chemicals!" Jocasta shouted, "in the air! Don't breathe!" She pulled from them with everything that she had,, but her manas seemed... strange hesitant to respond. It was as if a scagbeast was near, but there was no such creature. Instead, when she turned, she saw them ahead: two points of yellowish light blazing golden in the distant blackness, twisting and sparking. “Shit!” Zarina’s top's collar was pulled up to cover her nose and mouth. Panic reigned supreme, and breathing was getting hard to limit. Drawing became slow, to the point where Zarina felt far too exerted to employ magic and instead she began to quickly pace toward the lights with Ingrid in tow. Suddenly, a voice rumbles through the air, ancient and crackly.

"Sxs iAt! Isfty anx r-Xnw… Sxs iAt! Isfty anx r-Xnw. xpt nhs!"

"What the hell is it saying?" Jocasta demanded of Zarina, hoping that she, of anyone, might know. How would I know?! I don’t speak dead auditory diarrhoea!

Zarina, still holding her breath, heard the incessant chanting and stopped on her tracks. It actually started to sound familiar to her, close to her mother tongue and Inipori- Close to Zaqhory, “Back ... Evil thing inside-” she crouched down to potentially get a tad bit of fresh air, perhaps use the little bit of energy she could muster to oxygenate herself, “Death awakens.” she mumbles.

Whatever Jocasta was feeling after hearing that, she kept it to herself. The mist pouring in revealed something else. Dozens of... blades of light crisscrossed the room, only evanescently visible where the smoke hit them.

"HfAw rmT Xbd xpt nD."

“Snake people-” Zarina paused, looking around her to notice the lights becoming clearer through the gas. She piped up, “Kill people. The snakes kill people!” She squinted at the final bit she heard. 'Death' was identified, but the second was odd, “Death Preserves? Keeps?” her heart rate wasn't doing too well with all that breath control. Ayla tried to translate the passage "Run back, evil ones alive inside. Death walks. Snake people kill people. Death protects this place?"

The golden lights! Jocasta looked at them, there were two. The twin lights disappeared. The hiss trailed off. The blades of light... Jocasta made a low with her hands, but the blades were one. They did not appear to have the power to cut anyhow… The five of them stood back to back in a shrinking perimeter, waiting for whatever came next, whatever horror might emerge from the depths. Their magic flickered, illuminating the cobweb-covered walls intermittently, flickering and dimming.

With the bit of magic Zarina had left, she tried to dissipate as much of the noxious substance in the air as possible, “... I just realized why your team name is what it is.” she had a moment there, “We can't run back though, so ...”

People spoke their theories out into the void, but the noises were gone. They coughed occasionally. Jocasta jumped when a drop of water hit her. With her flickering magic, she noticed something up ahead: smoke rising from two long... ropes? Gathering her courage, she broke their defensive formation and drew closer. Not ropes, she thought, cables… She could feel the heat coming off of them. Following them upwards, she could see where they snaked along the ceiling. The moment that the twin lights had stopped, there had been a 'pop!' and the strange gas and hum had disappeared as well.

Zarina coughed a few and brushed her hand through her now loose hair, “Do you still feel them, Jo?” Jocasta shook her head. "Faintly, whatever they are. I think we're headed in a different direction." Her front wheels bumped against a piece of debris and she nearly pitched out of her wheelchair. "Ordammit," she hissed, catching herself and resetting her legs on the footrest. "Does this place never end?" Doubling over to push the debris out of her path, Jocasta slid it out of the way only to perk up when she heard it strike something distinctly hollow. She sat bolt upright, exchanging a glance with Ayla. "Did you notice that?" she demanded, "it sounded..."

"Hollow!" Ayla responded. Shining a light towards a wall, she noticed something hunkering in the shadow of a pillar: an ancient clay jar. “Like your head.” she teases, giving the little lady a couple of soft knocks on the head. Jocasta lifted it cautiously onto her lap. There were scarabs running all over it. Half of them were black and red. Half were black and blue. It gave her the heebie-jeebies. "Anyone else wanna be the one to open it?"

Zarina was quick to immobilise one of the scarabs with Kinetic and tried to subdue it with a small dose of chemical. She then dragged it toward her, “Interesting colour scheme.” now she focused on the jar, the details of it and all, “How about you open it from a distance, yeah?” the reds seemed to be headed uniformly right, while the blues were going left. Glancing between the others' eyes, Jocasta reached up to hand the jar to Ingrid. She paused when Ayla spoke. "Black and red!" she exclaimed, "like your hourglass. Blue and red," she concluded, "like that.... thing they were worshipping."

Ingrid ended up being the one to open the jar, revealing half a scarab, and clearly the other half of the one they had previously inserted. Speculations galore followed this finding, from wanting to return where they had started to pushing forward. But before a decision was made, the sulphur returned in the air they breathed just as Jocasta was gathering the energy to make a spatial jump back to safety. A cold, bony hand laid itself on her shoulder …

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A Dark History

From nothing appeared the shape of a man: tall and cadaverously slender. From nothing appeared the shape of a man: tall and cadaverously slender.

A shamshir was immediately drawn and the pointed tip directed right at the emaciated figure. An intense glare was shot at the mystery being, with Zarina's forehead covered in sweat drops. Sensing people's alarm, Jocasta bolted from her wheelchair, floating backwards.

The being only smiled a lipless grin and faded into the swirling dust. "What the fuck was that!?" Jocasta hollered, patting her shoulder down frantically as if it were poisoned.

That’s it. This isn’t just some random hole. We are WAY over our heads. Maybe we’re not too late.

“We need to leave.” Zarina said with complete resolution, “This isn't some random ruins with a few mystery people messing with us.” although her demand wasn’t heeded as most of the group’s attention fell onto a new illustration. In the middle of the wall was a pattern that looked like arteries or veins, headed towards a heart from all directions. It was blue and shaped like half of a scarab. There was a hole shaped just like the right side of one. Once again, this wall had inscriptions.

“No.” Zarina pointed right at the slot, “No, no, no! I should've known from the start. But fuck it, we've got to BAIL.” she ordered in clear frustration, “You should know this, Ayla.” Ayla refused, "There is no going back now. Face those monsters out there, or go deeper. Don't want slenderman to creep on Jo again."

"nis snf pr-aA.
anxw sbH."

More glyphs, different than just listening. Still, she could try to make some sense of it. Zarina brushed her digits over the drawings and focused on them for a brief moment, “Call- Uhhh, Bring? Blood. Call Blood.” she squinted at the last one. It was a term she was not familiar with, “King? Maybe. Call Blood King.”

What am I doing?

Zarina clenched her jaw as she gazed upon the "response". It took her a moment, “Those with life ...” she shakes her head as the last term is more or less translated in her head, “We're not doing this.”

I can’t. We’re all going to die.

"Can we maybe not 'Summon the Blood Pharaoh?'” Jocasta shudders. “That's the first part, I think: Summon the Blood Pharoah."

"Don't fancy being stuck here for eternity, we need to press on forward, Zazzy. We have overcome worse together before." berated Ayla.
"Those with life? You mean like: The living?" suggested Desmond.

“You have NOT overcome this, Ayla. YOU should know what this is about.” she looked very agitated, pacing around with her hands gesturing restlessly, “We should be able to find an exit some-” she threw a dirty glare toward Desmond.

Idiots, all of you! You do NOT know what you are doing. I was an even bigger fool to bring you all here. Zarina was gritting her teeth.

"DO YOU SUMMON THE BLOOD PHAROAH?" spoke a voice from everywhere and nowhere, as if demanding a response.

Zarina went pale and twisted to stare at the inscriptions.

"The Living Cry Out!" Desmond roared in response.

"The living cry out?" Ayla tried to make out the inscription.

Something rumbled beyond the wall. It lifted a sliver and scarabs began trickling out, first a few, then by the dozens, then pouring by the hundreds. The blue scarab shape on the wall lit up, beckoning. "Put the Scarab in the Scarab hole!" ran to grab it and pushed it in. Zarina first thought of intercepting, but then she noticed the flood of scarabs. “... Put it in!” The scarab clicked in and the door slammed down, cutting off the flood. A door revealed itself on the left side of the wall and it grated open, stone on stone.

The group seized the chance to escape, away from all the bugs. Beyond is a stone passage. At first, it was pitch black, but for the dim glow of the scarab's light. Then, as they began to peer down it, a pair of lanterns flickered to life, and then another. Staring close to them and stretching off into the distance, they light the tunnel.

The walls were ornate and the design was different, with the pillars in a style that they've seen before but never around this region. It was Nikanese.

Nikanese Art

They continued down the passage and there are further pictures on the walls, these ones much newer and more sophisticated, but still hundreds of years old. The illustrations were in Nikanese style. They showed the Sirrahi again, but they also showed a great humanlike figure, tall and pale, standing in front of them.

Zarina felt overwhelmed. Perhaps this wasn't what she thought. But then again, it also felt like it was in a way. The new architecture and art put her off quite a bit “Did they have ruins like this when you met them? With different arts and languages?” Ingrid denied the notion and instead suggested they were studying humans instead, although perhaps they had been in Nikan for a time. "These Snake People worshipped a human... ... Grand Demon?" wondered Ayla.

As they walked, the pictures evolved. The next one showed that same great figure, now transformed into something larger and more monstrous, doing battle with the snake-people. Dozens of them lay dead before him and he rose, covered in blood. “So much for these great beings that kill people.” Zarina crossed her arms and scoffed at the sight, “Big man took exception to them.” Ayla added, "What if the snake people created or used him, and then he turned on them, or them on him?

Up ahead, the smell of sulphur grew ever greater. Jocasta coughed. "I'll admit to morbid curiosity," she huffs, "But we should probably find some way to breathe in there, because it's probably only going to get worse." Zarina attempted to make the air somewhat breathable, though she was but a lower chemical mage, and there ain't no animals here, “Agreed. Let's just get through this. I don't even know what to think of this anymore.” Desmond agreed as he said, "Yeah feet don't face backwards". As he attempted to help the best he can with chemical magic. However it would be minor at best.

The pictures continued as they moved forward, Jocasta trying to draw away the chemicals in the air or at least rendered them inert. It was not so much the smell as the toxic nature of the gas. The next one depicted the people bowing down before him, by the hundreds. Once again, they brought tribute, but it was unambiguous: they offered humans to him.

“... The Evil One.” Zarina suddenly piped up as she squinted at the face of the depicted being. Jocasta twiseds and, glancing Zarina's way, offered a question. "You know of him?" The Virangish was quick to reply, “No-” she shook her head, “I don't think so, but-” she stepped closer to the illustration, “They spoke of an Evil One that rests here.”

Then, Jocasta sensed it: an immense energy beginning to stir far ahead. It was like nothing she had ever felt, not even from Hugo Hunghorasz. The corridor continued and there were depictions of ten other figures. The writing on the walls changed. Most remained in Nikanese, but the ten other figures appeared to come from numerous other peoples. There were Old Eskandr runes beneath one: a cloaked woman wearing white and black beneath a mighty tree. Beside her appeared a man in dragonscale armour, kneeling.

Zarina noticed Ko, “Hey, wait. I know that armour. Though it's darker here.”

Another wore the garb of a great serpent, his appearance Xochiyec. His mighty war club was covered in blood. More of them came from all over the world: A hulking Belzaggicman wearing a Lion's pelt, A tall, lithe Kerreman woman with a bow and arrow, A dark-skinned yasoi of Sawand, holding court over the night. "Guys," Jocasta warned, "there's something up ahead. Something really powerful. Do we think it's a friend?"

Desmond and Ingrid seemed inclined to be optimistics, but not Zarina, “No.” she was quick to give her answer, but then she peered at the depictions, “But I doubt we'd have a chance to escape if it's as bad as they remember it by.”

More of them were shown: A Yasoi brandishing long, whiplike chains.

Two bulky Retanese standing shoulder to shoulder, arms folded across their chests.

Next came a large pale man with a long beard and the crown of St. Yuri upon his head.

"These... all seem to be royalty... Grand Demons rule Sipenta?" wondered Ayla. Jocasta looked back worriedly at Ayla and shrugged.

The next panel depicted two mighty kings: one in black and fiery orange and the other in white and blue, clashing over a walled city with chalky white cliffs. Ayla looked towards the white cliffs. "Looks like those cliffs might be the White Cliffs of Relouse..." making an observation

Up to this point, they had been able to keep the sulphur at bay with their magic. Then, however, it grew uncomfortable and difficult. "We're close," Jocasta warned. The penultimate panel reveals the white king. He is standing above a knight of Lindermetz, one holding twin shortswords, and knighting him. The knight rises and stands beside the king, his hair having turned white.

A tent was made to encompass the group, preserve the oxygen they had left and limit the entry of the gas inside. They were still on borrowed time, but at least they had more of it.

Another twenty yards down, the last of their magic flickered out. The last of the ten portraits appeared before them. It was a Yasoi woman, almost lifelike. Jocasta froze. She blinked.

It was Ismette.

"Ismette," Ingrid let out. Desmond began to look around, "What the fuck is this place?" Zarina added, “Handlebars. Huh.” for a moment she appeared completely blasé, “... Oh shit. Kind of looks like her, yeah!” Jocasta blinked. "The resemblance is uncanny. It looks a lot like her." speculation on Leluun, the mysterious Biro group and the implications of this illustration followed, leaving some more distressed than others. “Maybe it's her mom. Or grandma. Or great grandma.” Zarina shrugged, “All them tree people look the same to me.”

Ahead loomed the end of the passage in an ornate archway. All magic was gone. The archway was sealed and, in it, was one more shape. It was the star with the split points, five branches, ten endings, and a large gem in the middle. Jocasta fished it out of the small chest.

"Tyrel and Myret look similar too. They all could be related." remarked Ayla, "I guess so," Jocasta agreed. "Her ancestor is... clearly someone of great power."

The hourglass was in the chest too. All of its sand had retreated to the top and was sticking there, as if gravity itself was reversed inside of the item. She held the two items up and looked among the others. "You know, we could all just be signing our death warrants." Zarina sighed, “We've gotten this far.” she then crossed her arms, “I tried to stop you guys. May as well commit.”

Quick discussion is made about inserting the star into the hole, and when it was time to decide, Desmond did the deed. The star medallion shot back out and into Desmond's chest. After fumbling with it, he snagged it. Smoke and heat rolled out of a ring-shaped chamber. Beyond lay… another door.

---

---

The Evil One

The walls were covered in further pictures. The first showed the figure from the beginning, the one who had laid low the Sirrahi. He stood beside a woman of similar stature, holding her hand. Around them gathered many people and many beasts of assorted types. "We should look at the rest," Jocasta recommended. The miasma was thicker in here and their tent was losing its effectiveness.

The next fresco revealed yet more. Now the man and the woman stood across from each other, as if in a standoff. Countless beasts and countless people lay dead around them.

The next depicted yet more of the story: the man and the woman in combat. The latter appeared almost bestial.

They moved on to another and the woman had turned into a great black dragon.

"You know if that is real, that is horrifying." remarked Desmond.

“Wow. Now she kicks ASS.” she uttered, purging worries from her system for a brief moment.

"Wow, Sven's kind of girl." joked Ingrid.

"Perhaps she knows the trick on how to defeat Grand Demon Ismette." Ayla tried to keep a straight face.

The second to last showed the results of their battle. The Sirrahi fled and the dragon was struck down. She was turning back into a human again. The man held her in his arms, but his face was stern.

The final one depicted a great palace in the desert. The woman was shown laid inside, at the centre of it, in a deep sleep. The man left, sealing it behind him and leaving the bodies of the dead to stand guard.

The final door beckoned.

"That's... who are these people?" Jocasta asked, "some kind of gods?"

“Wait.” Zarined inspected the last statue, especially the guard. The horde. “... Kept by death ... Protect by the dead. Stop.” Zarina piped up, “We may very well be unleashing something foul into the world.”

Wracked with indecisiveness from her morals of respecting her friends and beliefs of life and death, "I will choose to abstain for now and will only vote if necessary." Ingrid didn't seem comfortable abstaining but it was better than choosing right now.

Ayla looked ahead to what may be the final door and what is ahead. There have been many trials and tribulations to get to this point, this is like an epic story of old, a dungeon, one of adventure and hardship. She could experience a mix of emotions from dread, fear, and excitement, the anticipation of coming to the end of this trek. She was overcome with an urge to do something, to go further, and like the old stories, complete their destined mission. "We have come so far and a little further to finish. We passed through all the trials, we have gotten further than any of the others, perhaps this is our destiny. To right a wrong in this world. Heroes of legend...". Ayla moved towards the box to pick up the Hourglass, "Perhaps we are the new Hourglass Order?", she looked towards the pair from team Luna, "Desmond and Ingrid, if it is more the money, what about the riches that may lie just ahead?"

"Perhaps instead of those old men who decide our fate, who drag us closer to a war that will destory our world. We get an opportunity to actually do something, something to save it? Perhaps it is a relic, perhap it is secret knowledge, we dont know, but we can. It also can be a complete bust!"

“Or we destroy it ourselves,” Zarina raised her chin and looked down at Ayla with her arms crossed, “in one act of youthful foolishness. Heed the tales of old, Ayla.” her golden hues peered to the statue with the fallen "queen" and her undead guard, “Of the resting places of Zaqhoria.”

The debate went on, involving Zarina and Ayla, and Desmond eventually opting for opening the door. "I think we should do it," Desmond turned to them as he continued, "We have nowhere else to go, our only 2 visible ways of escape are: Try and teleport and contend with whatever touched Jocasta and vanished. Seemingly an intangible but tangible threat. Or we fight our way through the many dead that had filled the halls. The many hundreds you both say there is. We may be good, but I only have so many bullets and those who are dead have no fear."

Desmond huffed and sighed as he then said, "I think we need to attempt this. If anything, all we will be doing is opening the tomb of a dead woman. There might be nothing but some corpse, and then this was for nothing. But if it is anything to help us out, then I think taking it makes sense. There are many mages here, and maybe they can stop whatever disaster is to occur, after all, Even Hugo is active".

Desmond sighed as he then continued, "If something so horrid is gonna happen that the world shall end, then they can just turn back time to stop us from ever going in. After all, that is the power of the Temporal magic I have seen. The Sirrahi we interacted with said if they wished they could have turned back the time by a few hours so we never met and we'd have never remembered. So if our actions are to damn the world, then it would save us too, save us from ever needing to have done any of this. But we would also be unable to remember some of these things. Some things that are much too strange to let sit. Yet sadly some things must be done".

Jocasta looked at them dimly, a bitter, profound hatred building inside of her. Repeatedly, she had warned against this. Repeatedly, she had been ignored. That there was no saving the stupid from themselves, she had long been certain. The choice was starkly obvious and mind-bogglingly simple: walk back a couple hundred yards, pull on the fabric of space and time, and leave this cursed place, or press forward further into a den of horrors and unleash an ultimate evil they had been repeatedly warned about in no uncertain terms. If they could not see the simple reason, they were either insane, incurably stupid, or their minds had been addled by some strange magic in here.

She would have taken Zarina and left them to die in a heartbeat at this point, but she would have suffocated before reaching safety. She was one small girl with no magic and half a body, not Volto Certosa and not Veleno. It would take one bump or small obstacle and she'd be trapped. Her heart was hammering. Her hands shook. The world felt faint and she could feel her pulse in her ears. You're really gonna do it, she thought to them disbelievingly. This was not some adventure. They had no magic. They had no safety net. It was like they were in denial of their own vulnerability or they were actively trying to die. How could you be so stupid!? She screamed at them inwardly. Eshi! I hate you! I hate you, you idiots: you fucking idiots!!! Truly, however, it was herself that she hated.

Jocasta took as deep a breath as she could and stifled a cough. "We've had our share of tough scrapes before," she began, trying to keep the tremble from her voice, "But we've always had magic. We don't have it, this time. There's no 'reset' lever." She swallowed. "Nobody knows that we're here. We have received warning after warning that what waits ahead is horror." She regarded them all calmly, rationally, despite the all-consuming terror that she felt. "We can turn around now, walk a couple hundred paces back, and I can pull upon space and have us out of this place. There might be dangers, but we will be equipped to face them. We can tell people who are much better prepared to handle it than us when we get out. Our other choice is to walk through that door where we have a very good chance of dying horribly and likely unleashing some ancient evil upon the world. That is an unfathomably stupid thing to do and I am helpless to stop you from doing it except for my words. Please don't. I am furious at your blindness right now, but I am begging you not to."

Zarina opted to keep her breaths limited and wasn't going to add more to what was already said, they needed the air no matter the choice they would make, “You know our stances.” she then peered over toward Ingrid, “I know better than to take on three alone, with one being a Magusyaeger. ” she stood by Jocasta, a hand over the chair, “I won't beg, however. I would also not put all my faith onto a man that needs kids to do his international errands.”

Resistance still came from the Ayla camp, but it was all for naught. A crack formed in one of the walls. The stone rippled and their eyes could follow it as it snaked down. It was deafeningly loud against the silence of their muffled breathing. Dust swirled into the air. Tiny pebbles clatter to the ground. The crack widened. It began to snake up the ceiling. It branched. Dust and pebbles rained down.

Desmond went first for the hourglass and tried to jam it in. When it didn’t fit, he took the star from earlier.

"MMMMMMMNNNNNNNNGGGGG"

A massive curtain of wall fell to the ground. Dust billowed out. Blood-red veins branched and snaked from the symbol, covering the door like a virus. The edges of the portal lit up, glowing in the all-consuming murk. Stone began to grind and grate. Jocasta looked back at the broken wall. There were .... faces inside of it. "Eshi-dammit, what the fuck is that!?" A pair of great stone doors began to iris apart. All of the light was blood-red but for the eyes.

The eyes. They glow in the darkness.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMWWWWWWOOOOOOOOAAAAAHHH"

The doors slid apart.

Chaos erupted. The monsters lurched out from the walls and assaulted all the intruders, starting with Desmond and Ayla. Zarina, deprived of magic, relied on her blades while Jocasta, helpless as she was, ended up flung to a wall and nearly knocked out. It was an uphill battle, leading to Zarina nearly ending up devoured by the long-clawed creatures. This looked to be the end.

Then, Ayla flipped an hourglass.

A cold, blinding pulse of red light arched across the chamber of horrors, revealing its contents. There were dozens of these beasts. As one, the undead beings craned their ragged necks. All of them turned to look at the hourglass, stopping mid-action. Zarina scrambled back, horrified, trembling, grateful, a whole lot of other things. Then, as one again, the horrors raised their heads and let out a long shrill cry that every living human present could feel in their bones. The second door exploded outward.

Chunks of stone and bronze showered the area. One took Jocasta in the midsection and she let out a pained sound and slumped to the side. People ducked and covered instinctively. From inside poured a deep bloody light. One vast cold eye opened, gleaming in the bright darkness. Then, another.

Zarina kept low and rushed to the room in panic. Just in time to notice the EYES. The room shook. A hand reached out and grasped Zarina by the neck, effortlessly lifting her from her feet. She rose, one, two, five feet off of the round. An immense fang-filled maw opened before her. "HHHHHHHUUUUUUUMMMMAAAAAANNN." She could feel great nostrils sniffing her. The voice was immense, sepulchral, regal.

Zarina was caught off guard, seized and left paralyzed by the sheer might of the being before her. Also her neck was constricted. Her sword fell to the ground and her hands clenched the wrist of the abomination lifting her. She was at the end of a very long arm. The hand that gripped her was scaly and covered in ssspines.

At first Zarina’s eyes are wide in surprise, and with quite a bit of fear, but she still tries to stare down the foe, teeth clenched. If you’re going to finish me, monster, do it now. I won’t beg or squeal. A long snakelike tongue flicked out, tasting Zarina's face. The prey’s eye twitched. Fuck. You. The others had little time to do much but react.

With howls of hunger and rage, the undead streamed through the door. They grabbed hold of Desmond, Ingrid, and Ayla. They swarmed over the fallen Jocasta.

The being that held Zarina dropped her like an unwanted toy. It stalked forward and roared. The four humans were brought to their knees. Zarina gasped for air, hand on her throat, as she looked up at the beast. The undead wailed and clutched at their heads. But the being was not finished. So quickly as to be almost imperceptible, it hurtled into the monsters and tore them limb from limb with such violence that it was difficult to comprehend immediately.

They caught flashes of it: lean and towering, pitch black and scaled. It tore at the lesser monsters with the pain and rage of something that had been caged for thousands of years. With teeth and claws it ripped them limb from limb, spattering the walls, floor, and ceiling with their vile black blood, hurling pieces of their flesh so that they stuck fast to surfaces. Then, it gorged upon them, feeding. Bones snapped, sinew crunched, and meat slurped. Ponds of blood covered the floor.

“Fuck.” Zarina fumbled to reach for her weapon, “The woman we saw ...” she remarked, "The one who fought the Grand Demons..." Ayla completed the thought.
The group gathered itself after the will-shattering screech the beast had imposed upon them.

Its eyes flickered, rolling back into its head. It was a woman. "Hsssssssssiiiihhh," She let out a long sound of pain and satisfaction. It rose on two feet, swaying as it regarded them from above. Then, its back arched and it began to contort. In fits and starts, it twisted and began to shrink. It let out an ear-piercing shriek. Then, it collapsed onto all fours: human, or something like that. She was naked and covered in blood. Her chest heaved slowly. Her hair is drenched. They are deep at first, and then shallower.

Desmond began trying to stand up, shakily as he stands fully up and looks to the woman and said, "Well fuck."

After a few more breaths, she raised her head and looked right at him. "Well fuck," she replies.

Zarina blinked, “The fuck?” she fumbled to hold her weapon, and slowly stood.

Ingrid began to stand as the woman was coming back down from her fury. Ingrid repeated, "Are you the one that man imprisoned?" Her voice was strong here. Desmond went near her and knelt down trying to check her now, she seemed sick or injured in some way.

The woman stood. She was tall, with skin pale from lack of sun, hair dark and bloody, eerily beautiful. She looked human but for the claws that grew from her fingertips and the deep soulless blackness of her eyes. "Im...prrriiisoned." She regarded Desmond. With thunderous speed, her hand flicked out and grasped his shoulder tightly.

"Thhhhank yyyou."

Then, it stalked towards the door, incandescent with eagerness. "Nnnnow, mmhhhhy turn!" A wicked smile split its face.

“Your turn.” Zarina inhaled deeply and finally regained some of her composure, “What will you do ... Isfty?”

"Deeeatttth!" hisses the monster. A stray undead Sanguinaire came after her and she decapitated it with a single slash of her inhuman claws.

“Death to what?” Zarina inquired in clear confrontation, although she flinched from the killing.

The being ignored Zarina, leaping for where the ceiling met the wall in the chamber beyond.
Her hand pierced clean through and tore something out of it. This, she crumpled and tossed on the floor like so much scrap. "We need to get out of here right now," Jocasta whispered. "Right now." The being rushed around to another point and did the same thing, tossing a second black box-like device onto the floor. Jocasta's magic flickered. She could feel it, somewhat, just. “Agreed.” Zarina rushed over to help Jo get on her chair, and then went on to the room that is being trashed.

"DEATH!" screamed the woman. "DEEEEEAAAATHHH!!!!"

Zarina inspected the tossed devices nonetheless, trying to keep an eye on the rampaging creature. The only exit so far was back after all, “Wait, those are what dampen our abilities?” Desmond confirmed this to be true.

"Let go of me!" Jocasta shouted, as more sounds echoed from the other side of the ring-shaped room. She reached out with her magic and crumpled the last remaining box. Jocasta burst free of Ingrid and Zarina and all of the others trying to help her, rising into the air.The other four felt the familiar immense power of their friend's draw, crushing in its sheer weight.

The monster appeared around the corner, its head forcibly wrenched around by Jocasta's magic. It bared its teeth. "Oh shut up," Jocasta sneered. "You will answer our questions." The woman-shaped thing hissed at her. "The rest of you," Jocasta quickly murmured, "get out of here. Now."

Ayla drew too, far less impressively, though peered up towards Jocasta, "What about you?" Zarina clicked her tongue, “Not unless you come along.” Desmond started to feel his body churn as he felt her energy grow yet he remained standing, he needed to stay on his feet. His falling was not good here, Jocasta seemed to have been angered and is now using her overwhelming power, similar to what Benedetto did. The others did not seem to move so neither did he. Ingrid kept pleading to avoid conflict, although it consistently fell into deaf ears.

"I can understand you," said the monster, grinning evilly. She shattered Jocasta's kinetic hold.

Jocasta tossed a smile back over her shoulder at them. "Stupid brave," she said. Then, the beast spoke. "We freed you," Jocasta reminded her. "That is why you are alive," replied the beast.

Then, suddenly, Ayla assaulted the creature. Likely in an attempt to help Jocasta get away from a dangerous situation, but it would end up biting her back- Hard. Ayla, you idiot! No! Zarina dashed toward her friend, knowing full-well things were going to get ugly.

The beast, who had seemed on the verge of speaking, flinches for a moment, flaring its nostrils. "Not bad, girl." She turned to Ingrid. "Your friend does not seem to agree," she hissed. "For that, I shall extract a toll." With the snap of a finger, she rendered Ayla blind and deaf. "Do not presume."

Jocasta used her own Chemical magic to try to undo the spell, but it was as nothing before the being's magic. "Do not attack her!" Jocasta warned. "We have less than no chance, even me!" she fully admitted, "I have met her before, or a... version of her." Desmond was confused by the notion, so she continued, "In the desert. A demon. We reversed time to save you all. Nobody else knew. I wanted to keep it that way."

Zarina, mortified at the sight of Ayla being disabled so mercilessly, had the first instinct to try and get payback, but Jocasta made the right call, “... Fix her, please.” she pleaded as she got to her friend, softened the potential fall and held Ayla close. She consistently shifted her gaze between the menace and her sister-figure. No no no! I told you to not move forward … If you just listened … If all just listened to ME. she grit her teeth and pressed her forehead to Ayla’s.

The being tilted its head to the side at Jocasta's comment. "A demon!?" It shook its head. "I am no demon, girl." She glared. "Your behaviour says otherwise," Jocasta responded. "Is this how you repay a good turn?"

The monster regarded Jocasta with cold anger. "You are strong enough to be insolent. Perhaps I should break your arms too," she hissed. "Why are humans helping me!?" she demanded. "What cruel trickery is this?" The woman snapped her fingers after some more pleading from the group and Ayla's senses returned. "Learn some decorum, child. Strike me again and you shall know suffering, truly."

"Zarina discovered this place and we wanted to know more. It is DZ54 at the moment. I wanted to release you after seeing you might have been imprisoned for so long. It was cruel." Ingrid answered.

The being appeared beside Ingrid in an instant. There was no sign of a draw or temporal magic. "I am not your friend, child." She laid a hand on Ingrid's shoulder, gripping it just a bit too tightly to be comfortable. "Had you any sense, you would have left me there."

“It wasn't our initial intention to help.” Zarina responded frankly, sighing in relief now that Ayla had been liberated. Thank the Gods. I was going to do something we’d all regret. Well, maybe we wouldn’t have had the time to.

"Then why did you come?"

“An innocent venture turned into a hell hole that blocked off our magic.” she replied, arms crossed and eyes narrowed into the speedy figure.

"Not your magic. Those vile devices were here to block mine. They were placed here by the false gods your ancestors served."

"The Sirrahi? The snake people?" asked Desmond.

"Stolen from them, from their corpses after He fed."

Ingrid winced, at her grabbing her shoulder. It was the 2nd time she was in a situation like this. "You are not my friend but what is the purpose of sense if you ignore something as tragic as being locked away forever. You are a person and everyone should reach an end that they choose."

"I am not a person."

Zarina cocked a brow, “What God-” then she thought, “That man? The big man.” she pursed her lips, “The one that put you here?”

Her eyes flash and she whirls on Zarina. "Vile tricks and treachery! He sunk his knife in my back! Humans!" she hissed, "Agents of his. You are agents of his."

“We're agents of nothing.” Zarina snapped back, eyes narrowing into a glare, “We literally just found this ruin after doing a giant turtle race.” she sighed and paused for a moment, one hand raised in surrender in an attempt to ease the tension. Her tone softens and her eyes close. “What was his name?”

"SAa-m."

"Can I ask what you are... Are you a god? The all-knower? Are you just someone who has transcended past being a person?" inquired Ingrid.

"Do not speak of the all-knower when you know nothing!" she snarled, rapidly making a gesture.

“SAa-m.” the Virangish girl repeated the word a few times, “The Start. The Beginning.”

The being nodded. “And what is your name, then?” asked Zarina with softer, half-lidded eyes. Her crossed arms even lowered themselves a little.

Jocasta's eyes widened. The language wasn't entirely different from Djamantese, ancient though it was. "Heart..." she all-but mouthed. For a moment, silence reigned.

Ayla looked towards Jo, "So... she is Love? Bride of the All-knower?"

"I don't think that was the all-knower." Jocasta shook her head.

Heart looked them over. She let a silence build after their exchange. "I offer you my apology," she decided. "It seems much has changed since I last walked among people. You have my thanks as well." She inclined her head in their direction. Material began to unspool from the walls. It gathered about her in a red cloak. Then, she disappeared.

"...oh", Desmond was left dumbfounded as he was unsure what any of that meant. “Huh.” Zarina just stood there for a moment, and then looked over at her crew, “Crisis ... Averted?” Jocasta twisted her way. "I... think so, though we may have just created a larger one."

“I warned you all.” sneered Zarina. Jocasta nodded glumly.

---

---

Here they come!

“Let's go.” Zarina sheathed her blade and gestured for them to get moving.

"Yeah, let's talk somewhere not fucking spooky"

Jocasta began to gather energy for herself. Exhaustion, anxiety, and injury made it difficult. She drew more to herself, straining. Something was wrong. "There must still be a device up somewhere," she grunted after a moment. "Making this hard."

"Alright, let's look around. We can probably find the last one through pattern placement"

People spent some time looking for more treasures while Jocasta continued to try drawing. In the distance, she can sense things moving. She didn’t like it. Ayla comes up with a second usable box like her first one, though.

Desmond’s search near the center of the inner chamber, stumbles upon a second box. In it is a mysterious and ancient vial and an hourglass. The sand is blue. As each person looked towards it with a pensive look having many thoughts of it.

The group had no luck pinpointing the source. Jocasta became more anxious. "Ugh. Let's just go back up the tunnel. I don't know about you guys, but I don't really wanna spend a moment longer in the massacre room and I think there's somethin headed here from the other direction". She decided to put words into action, as she headed out into the ring-shaped room around the central chamber, and towards the door leading into the hallway.

“I'm going to ask something of you guys,” she spoke up as they began to leave, “Not a word of this to anyone. There is a good reason these places are forbidden.”. As she muttered underneath her breath, “Surprised it isn't a pyramid, though ...”.

"Fucking agreed" Desmond said as he shook his head and sighed.

Jocasta looked back at her and nodded glumly. "My lips are sealed." Zarina did not know that she was lying.

Ayla has the star and the Hourglass with her, "Zazzy, take this box", she hands over the device she found during her search to her for safe keeping.

Zazzy caught the box, “Gotcha, Kitty cat.” the box is pocketed for now in her leather bag.

The passageway beyond is cool. The sulphurous smell is still present, but faint and dissipating. Jocasta furrows her brow. "Anyone else having trouble drawing? Shit..."

Ingrid tried drawing as well and it was tough. "Can we also not talk about the Sirrahi too much”

Desmond began to try and draw, as he is feeling off as well as he says, "Yeah, I can feel this isn’t".

Zarina tries to draw as well, “Never been the best at it but ... Yeah, it's agonisingly slow.”

Jocasta puts hands to wheels a little faster, boosting herself with faint Kinetic magic. Then, up ahead, through the haze of dampened sensing. She could sense something like a person. "Wait!" she called, "Stop! Something's up there!"

As the group moved quickly through the tunnel, they made it closer and closer to the main room. Once they made it through the hallway and into the main room, they felt their magic slowly becoming harder and harder to to use as they all prepared.

"Fuck. It must have a portable Jammer". Desmond looks back and calls towards them, "How fast is it moving?"

"Fast jog!" Jocasta replies.

"Could it be those snake people?" Ayla called out to their Sirrahi experts. Ingrid nods in response, “It could be.”

”Shit. I don’t have the power… Shunedammit!”, Jocasta grew more exasperated with the situation.
The figures approached faster, accelerating as the rumbling echoed around them.

“Run!” shouts a distant voice.

“Run!” the second repeated.

“They are coming!” shouted the first.

“They are!” the second repeated again.

"It's Sirrahi!", Ingrid called out to the others.

"Awe fuck. THEY LET THE DEAD THROUGH!"

"No time for smooching! We need to flee!"

However, there was nowhere for them to flee.

“Old fashion way then.” Zarina clenches her weapon, but loses her footing a bit with the rumbling.

Ingrid halted as she waited for the Sirrahi, hoping they would be in a position to catch up soon.

Faintly, as their magic senses faded, they sensed the deadheads... hundreds of them. There may have been something else among them, something... larger.

Ingrid waves her arms in a frenzied mana towards them, Desmond joining her.

"TURN OFF THE FUCKING DAMPENER AND MAKE A WALL! SOMEONE!?"
"TURN OFF YOUR DAMN JAMMER! THEY DON'T CARE!!!"
"THEIR IS A DEAD END, JAMMERS OFF AND MAKE A WALL!"

The Sirrahi were beside themselves with fear. "Isss it a dead end?" one hollered. "Deeeeaaad!" wailed the other. Howling, snarling, and wailing, a wave of deadheads crashes around a band.

Desmond shouted louder, trying to draw their attention. "JUST DO IT WE CAN STOP THEM WHEN THE JAMMER IS OFF!"

"Jammers?" wails one. "Yes, jammers!" shouts the other.

Ayla holds up the blue box in her possession, "Turn off!"

"Off!" one calls. The inhuman horde gains on them. The Sirrahi man reaches over and flicks a switch strapped to the woman's vest. It was in that moment Jocasta ploughs a kinetic shove into the deadheads, bowling some over, but there are more. They roar inhumanly, teeth gnashing, mouths dripping with vile, sludgy saliva.

Ingrid pleaded. "JOCASTA PLEAS MAKE A WALL I BEG WITH THEM ON OUR SIDE"
Desmond yelled out, "BIODH AN DIABHAL AGAT!!! YES THANK GOD! Alright! Turn! We need to blast them away so we can give time to Jocasta to create a wall to keep them at bay!"

Jocasta sweats and strains. She whirls, nearly tipping her wheelchair, and begins to fabricate a wall, but she's too slow. Three deadheads leap past it, nipping at the figurative heels of the Sirrahi.

Ingrid turns and draws in energy ash she launches a few arcane lances at them.

Zarina draws now that the jammers are down, and prepares a near-at-capacity slash at one of the deadheads.

Ayla lashes out with a sonic sphere, to blast the remaining deadhead back with force.
The hulking something in the background draws closer as dozen deadheads are annihilated by the combined attacks. Yet still, more kept coming. Like tidal waves. Their efforts barely made a dent in their numbers.

Dozens upon dozens of further deadheads are destroyed, but now the group finds themselves cornered. Their only escape is down the tunnel that leads back to the room of horrors. Beyond that lies a truly dead end.

In the chaos, the massive shape in the distance disappears, seeming to have one right into a wall, ready to emerge at any moment. The ground rumbles. Forcefully, deafeningly; but then for a short second everything is still and quiet.

Suddenly, a wall explodes nearby! Through it emerges...

A Royal Sand Wyrm

In all its glory, getting ready to let loose a torrent of fire; with something on its back? No, someone! Nazih shouts out, "TAKE COVER!" as the dragon lowers its head down to incinerate everything in its sight

Jocasta gets a wall up just on time! "Everybody behind it!" she screams.

“Whoaaaaaaaaaaa!” everything is in slow motion, the big fat dragon they saved was here, in good health and ridden by the Firrazene lad she creamed in the race. No time to think, Zarina hides behind it along with Ayla!

Ingrid moved further down the hall throwing more Arcane lances as a royal sand Wyrm jumped into the fray. Ingrid gets behind the wall. "WYRM YOU CAME BACK!". Desmond dives for cover as he prays Nazih doesn't hold grudges.

Nazih pushes forward, urging the wyrm ahead with its mouth still smouldering, lashing out at the deadheads. A few get shredded in its maw, and Nazih turns his attention to the people taking shelter behind the handy wall.

"You guys ready to leave, or what?” He asked, as the dragon started roasting another crowd of deadheads. The once-human wraiths scream and writhe, running around like living torches before collapsing torches.

"Yes," Jocasta responds, "Gods, yes!"
“Don't have to tell me twice.” Zarina performs a few hops to scale the long body of the creature, “Just in time, not bad. Making up for that second place!” she smirks and winks. "Please let's go!"
The two Sirrahi stared, dumbstruck. "Let's go, Sirrari come with us!" called Ingrid. They wrap themselves around its tail area, clinging to it.

The deadheads snap and snarl, charging for the Wyrm, but there are far fewer now.
Jocasta hits them with a crushing wave of fire and force. Ingrid kept throwing Arcane lances at them. They die by the dozens. Their numbers are thinning precipitously.

Nazih closely examined his new passengers in the light of the flame. These monsters were legends to him until now, but the stories that had kept him up at night as a child always highlighted the consequences of trespassing so far under the dunes of Zaqhoria. The rest of the group looked like they had been through some shit.

"Let's put the Royal Sand Wyrm into the Wyrm shaped hole!" called Ayla. Jocasta has enough time to groan. "hu, that was terrible", Desmond sighs. One Sirrahi sighs. The other sighs as well. “And make sure to seal the exit! Don't let these things escape!” added Zarina.

"Couldn't have said it better myself", Nazih said as he firmly pulled the magnificent beast towards the once structurally sound wall. The dragon was agile, and wyrmed its way through the tunnel at a surprisingly fast pace. He turned to face the path they had come from, and with the aid of the wheelchair bound girl drew the sand and stone to crash down the tunnel behind them.

They burst out into the sunlight, such a contrast to the darkness of moments ago, never so grateful in their lives to see it. Whatever deadheads were left behind them were crushed by the collapsing tunnel.

They were free! And alive.

Zarina was blinded by the sun hitting her face so suddenly, prompting her to really force her eyes into a squint. The tiny bits of saliva left on her face trickled down her features and stained her eyeball a bit, “Blah! Gross.” she attempted to rub her itchy eye. Rub rub rub, scratch scratch scratch, it only got worse no matter how much she blinked! “Ugh, fucking sand and dust and fucking fuck ...” she was missing out on the snake people with all that eye itchiness.

The pair of Sirrahi, similar enough in appearance as to be siblings, blinked and looked about. Thankfully, there was nobody else nearby, but they had still been sighted by some humans.

"You did not sssee usss," said one.

"No," agreed the other,

"You did not!",

"Wait," said the second.

"That isss the boy," said the Sirrahi.

"Yeah, we-hm?" Desmond was about to respond as one of them seemed to have stopped him.

"Yesss, that is him," exclaimed the other.

Ingrid looks at Desmond, "Oh right they got some photos of you"

It took Desmond a second before he remembered, "Oh yeah I remember that".

"It issss you!" exclaimed the woman. "It is!" echoed the man. "You are the boy from the ensssyclopedia!"

"Yes that is me", Desmond chuckles slightly from the embarrassment.

Ayla had grabbed a hold of Jocasta, squeezed upon her in a hug as she buried her face against her shoulder and cried.

"Can you pass a message onto someone for me!" She said to the Sirrahi.

The Sirrahi woman looked at Ingrid and tilted her head quizzically to one side. "Send a message?" she asked, "to who?"

"Her name is Sileen, I got some numbers she gave me if that helps"

Both of the Sirrahi clap excitedly. They regard the others nervously. "I imagine it is the first time you have seen people like us," says one. "Yesss, the first time," agreed the other.
"We are a reclusssive ssspeciesss." They both nodded. "It mussst remain that way." Their heads bobbed up and down.

The woman turned to face Ingrid. "You have met a sssirahi before?"
"What numbersss?" asked the other.

"No not exactly actually. We met the Disskas before. Same with that woman too," As Desmond gestures to Ingrid, "I do know of your reclusiveness, which I have vowed and kept to the best of my abilities".

"Are you going to get her in trouble, " Ingrid asked. They both blinked. Then, the man threw his head back and laughed in a snaky way. "We're not paid enough for that!" he exclaimed.
Ingrid may her way over to tell them a bit more privately, "The numbers she gave me are 317-889-3716. Can you tell her that Ingrid is doing alright and I hope her goals are going well," Ingrid was blushed because it felt weird to send a message through someone. "And that last kiss was the best"

Desmond turned his head to the side and laughed out, as he turned back and said to Ingrid, "you can't blame me for that one" Four snorted in laughter. "That's her phone number," he clarified. "Kind of a personal message, huh? Who do I tell her it's from?"
Ingrid felt very embarrassed, "Oh its from Ingrid, me"

Zarina kept rubbing her one eye, leaving only one to really see with. She approached the sand wyrm and reached out to give a friendly pet, “Ass-clenching save there, bud.” she shot a half-smile at Nazih. The eye itchiness was getting annoying.
The Sand wrym turns its colossal head her way. Its long tongue flicked out and licked her as well. The itching was getting annoyin. She felt something weird in her sinuses. Zarina giggled at the amicable lick, distracting her just a little from the itching hell she was experiencing, “You're a gooood boy, aren't you? Yes yes yes!”

The woman turned to some of the others, smiling at Ayla. "Nice to meat you!" she exclaimed. "I'm Ssseukri Five Lissaal." She jerked a thumb at her partner. "This is Ssseukri Four Dasson." Ayla stopped to a sniffle as she made Jo's shoulder very wet, and turned to look towards the two snake people. "Hola soy Ayla.", she tries to give them a smile. "In the mood for Ayla hugs, new friends". She goes to hug the Sirrahi in greetings. "Okay, okay," Jocasta says, patting Ayla embarrassedly, suddenly a bit more like her usual self. "Let's keep it together." When Ayla moved up to the Sirrahi to hug them, their eyes widened in momentary fear. However, Five, who was not occupied talking with Ingrid, was wrapped around her in a big snaky hug within moments. "Oh," she exclaimed, "how very nice! Thisss one knows the tradition!"

Nazih shuffled uncomfortably in his seat on the wyrm, wanting to ride out this rare privilege as long as possible, but disturbed by the happenings around. He was gawking at these...snake people? He seemed to recall something from the aged myths of Zaqhoria droned on to him in lessons, but would never have so much as considered any of it to be real but the walking dead- and now whatever these were. Perhaps the desert heat was getting to him.
"You should go and ride this big guy around," Jocasta recommended upon seeing Nazih. "I know they're a pretty big deal for you guys. I can take the others outta here if need be. Thanks for the save!"

Time for Ingrid to do the teasing, "Jocasta, weren't you going to kiss a Sirrahi when you met them?" Ingrid teased. Jocasta turned to Ingrid and her expression went flat. "I don't kiss." Ayla gestures to Jo, offering to pull her closer to engage in the Sirrahi hugs. Though at the mention of smooching, "Ingrid... do we need an intervention on you kissing?". "Oho, Ingrid, I never knew you were such a fiend. Will I need to start worrying?".

"Ayla!" Ingrid exclaimed. She was so red. She was being outed as a kissing fiend.
Jocasta holds an arm out and backs up. "Yup, nope. I've had enough weird stuff for one lifetime." She took in these... Sirrahi one more time and, gathering energy, opened herself a portal to somewhere far, far away.

The Sirrahi agreed to pass on Ingrid's message to the number given and, soon enough, they too were gone, with fond farewells and many thanks. Jocasta reappeared, keeping a portal open and then it was just the five of them again, who had begun this unexpected adventure. "Okay, you idiots," she sighed, softening her annoyance with a light smile, "Where to next?"

FIN.

The Hourglass Order

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Velles 5th

_{Location: The Proving Grounds - Ersand’Enise
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 1:05 HD
Characters: Abdel Saqqaf Aziz @Force and Fury,
Evander @RezonanceV, Khaliun, Leander @Creative Chaos,
Ymiico @Salsa Verde, Yuliya @Suicharte}

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Flames, left in the wake of Evander’s and Abdel’s furies, danced throughout the arena, progressively lighting the dark skies above with an orange tint that made the black flames more noticeable. Of course, the mild fire was not enough to get all eyes on the South-Western portion of the city, not with most of the patrols taken care of. With such powerful blasts, said to be the weakness of the Sanguinaire, it would be to the group’s horror that the shadow emerged, seemingly unscathed by any of it, and stood facing them, "Oooh," he teased. "ouch." he was toying with all of them.

A curved line of white teeth glowed in the darkness of his cowl. "My turn."

The bloodsucker played along with the kids’ attempts to get him. Illusions and superior speed allowed the monster to make the battlefield his stage, and only the Gods would be his audience for all the living were merely the instruments - vulgar cogs - to his catastrophic plan. The levity of it all was perhaps a good sign for them, until Yuliya caught his attention. The Sanguinaire larvae struck “true”, decapitating the “Sanguinaire” with “blood” squirting about. Of course, it was all but a farce. The consequences were not.

Something like a hand reached out of nowhere. Only, Yuliya could neither see nor stop it. It took her by the neck and slammed her face-first into the ground. With blinding speed, she was lifted and rammed into it again.

And again …

And again.

"Rule one, infant: do not underestimate your quarry."

An enraged Khaliun immediately intervened. An attempt to noose the vampire’s neck with a concentrated ring of pure force was tightened around his neck. There is no restraint, with the Tethered’s wide and refracting eyes painfully focused on her one enemy.
"Oops!" came a response. "Pop goes muh head!" it popped off cleanly, squirting a little blood, executing a turn in midair, smiling, and rolled to a stop before her. "Guess I'm ded." It stuck out its tongue before disappearing. Khaliun was left unimpressed, but did not waste time questioning it. Taking advantage of the creature’s taunting, she sought to employ her blood magic to tend to her royal better-

As Khaliun approached, Yuliya's prone form exploded, spraying bits of blood and gore everywhere. When Khaliun instinctively flinched, she found that she was losing feeling up past her midsection, her chest, and into her fingertips! "Hue hue hue," laughed the Sanguinaire. "Why so serious, girl?" Left shocked and distraught, Khaliun just stared at the puddle of blood as the creeping feeling spread through her.

Leander emerged from his hiding spot and helped, along with Evander snapping from his illusionary bindings. Still, despite their best efforts, they were not even grazing the revolting affront to life itself that taunted them so confidently. That was until …

The Sanguinaire had a very clear weakness: Hubris. He was very much stronger and held powers that even made his natural weaknesses less reliable. His provocations of the Nobleman and the Merchant child as well as having dealt with Yuliya made him oblivious to the growing storm occurring right next to him. Feeling the power of Eshiran and Vashdal coursing through him, Abdel called upon six perfect morningstars of light. They blazed in the night sky like so many moons.

"Be cleansed in fire, demon!"

The morningstars hurtled towards the Sanguinaire and he bolted from his place, recognizing the real and present danger. The air itself seemed to waver as he left the confines of the colosseum, but he proved too slow and the colossal attack crashed down on the sanguinaire's new position nonetheless. "Ejjiran akbar!" Abdel bellowed, bounding up onto the arena's lip. A great plume of dust and smoke rose from the Sanguinaire's landing place, but no signs of sound or motion. Flames blazed and heat rolled off of the area.

Buoyed by the furious spirit of Eshiran, the paladin called upon a lance of fire and thunder from the heavens. Leaping down for the finish, he found himself halted in midair. A deep, frosty laugh emanated from the wreckage and a tall lean silhouette emerged from it, wreathed in ghostly white flames. He seized Abdel by the neck and squeezed.

"Die."

"Это моя добыча. Отъебись!"

The young Sanguinaire, once predating on the captured paladin, was now his saviour. A massive swing was brought down upon him, enough to make him lose interest in his prey and simply drop him. Abdel was freefalling twenty metres down, bringing Khaliun to go for a last second save. Ymiico and Yuliya held their own, but Khaliun was busy rescuing her ally, and wasn’t ready for the Kinetic fist that plucked her out of midair. "If I break your back," the Sanguinaire wailed, hysterical with laughter, "will it even matter?" He drove her into the ground to act as a brake for Abdel.

It was now clear that this monster was not going to let another slip-up like with the Darhannic Fireblood occur again. And despite peak performances from Leander, Ymiico and Evander, they couldn't even scratch the shadowy figure. However, play time was about to meet its end.

Approaching them, at an impossible speed from the north, came a gargantuan energy. Those conscious enough reached for their temples, grimacing, staggering, and even retching into the dirt and the ruins. Even the Sanguinaire winced. But, after a moment, he smiled.

A great, toothy grin.

It had arrived within moments: a supernova of energy, burning and blinding. People had no choice but to flinch away, to shield themselves; they were compelled to. The Sanguinaire, busy making sport of biros, quickly found his smile fading and he snarled from beneath his cowl. Lips chapped and skin cracked. The water in the fountain and the lead coating on ruined roofs boiled away. So fantastic was the heat that timbers smouldered and fires flared spontaneously from nothing. Clearly audible was the hungry hiss and snap of the flames that wreathed the silhouette at the centre. It was a woman. Her presence was overwhelming - humbling - for, in it, night became day and demons turned to dust. She was the Sun.

“You will depart,” she commanded, “Or you will die.”

Action Opportunities

This is a mid-cycle update. The battle continues! Sunny has joined the fray, and she isn't here to form a drum circle.

The Hourglass Order

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Velles 5th

^{Location: Torragonese Desert - The Dragon: Burdensome Beasts
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 2:XX HS
Characters: Ayla @Ti, Desmond @Th3King0fChaos
Isabella @Pantothenic, Jocasta @Force and Fury, Marceline
Nazih @Ziegenkonig, Woren, Zarina, Zeinab, Diego}

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“Let’s get this party rolling!”

Wailed a cloth-covered tall teen before a duo of desert Halassa that didn’t seem to mind her presence. On board one, the male of the two, was Woren with proper precautions taken that Zarina would forgo at the start of the race: She wanted it all to feel natural, with all the risks, until the final line. Their strategies were well-established with the Hegelan, an educated high merchant that embraced new ideas, attentive to his teammate’s experiences with animals and the biome. The Virangish beastwhisperer was going to handle coordination of the animals and lead the way, while Woren’s massive RAS served as a means to defend themselves and attack adversaries.

“Ah, the swimmers have started.” she remarked as a distant trumpet announced the beginning of the Dragon. Zarina approached her own Halassa and rested a gentle hand over the beak. The stubborn but generally docile beast closed its eyes, looking appeased, “You look nice and ready, Zeinab. Hmmm? Yessss,” she began giving scritches just under the eye of the creature, where the skin was particularly dry, “and you too, Diego. You pretty boy.” she seized a thick piece of cheap porc from a bag on her back and tossed it over to the male Halassa who promptly lunged his neck toward the treat and engulfed it entirely in its beak, “You too, love.” Zeinab was giving expectant eyes to Zarina with her mouth parting a little big. She too got a treat before Zarina hopped onto her new steed.

The first leg didn’t last long, with the winning teams getting a head start. Zarina pouted, “C’moooon Jomurr you slow turd.” six seconds in and finally they could go. A light kick on the shell and they were off. Well, Zarina was but Woren struggled a little. Diego ended up following close behind Zeinab. They were not going as fast as they could, of course, but they were going at a steady pace which was more than could be said about the vast majority of others. There were some like Jocasta that simply rushed with sheer power, and those were hard to sabotage for Woren. As such, he focused more on keeping the manageable ones at bay with properly aimed stones near the eyes of the beasts to scare them while keeping guard.



A Froabas descended upon them! But they were ready. Woren’s immense capacity served them well as the dragon would be completely repulsed by a kinetic blast from a singular palm strike. Nonetheless, both Diego and Zeinab instinctively recoiled into their shells. Zarina had to act. “Hey, babies. The big bad’s gone!” she whispered to her Halassa, eventually calming it and then extended that same treatment to Diego after a quick dismount. After that experience, Woren opted to conjure blinders to better shield their eyes from distractions.



Next was a tunnel, although before they got there, Woren began to draw from the heat and form a steaming ball of ice that cooled the air around the duo and levitated over them, “Ah goh me an idea! ” he exclaimed as he brought cool air to them, but this white ball of fresh goodness also had the perk of emitting light as they entered the dark and spooky tunnel. The Halassa were not as disoriented as a result, although they were not particular fans of the claustrophobic nature of such an area either. It’d take a lot of convincing from Zarina to get them to move at a regular pace!

Both participants had agreed that the tunnel section was their best bet to find treasure, and it seemed Nazih had the same idea in a nearby tunnel, “‘Ey, Firraz!” she shouted in crude Avincian before addressing him in Inipori, “لا تريد فتاة المدينة أن تدعي النصر على الصحراء ، أليس كذلك؟” (You don't want a city girl to claim victory over the desert, do you?) she laughed loud enough for it to echo through the cave. Her minor taunting was cut off when something caught her eye, however, “Calmate.” she ordered the Halassa to take a break. Within a fissure on a stone wall, she caught the lightest glimpse of something reflecting light from the ball of frost. It was a chest! Albeit the passage was a bit too narrow to get there quickly. As such, Zarina left a piece of cloth on a nearby stone as a beacon before heading getting back to the race.



Woren had also spent some time searching, and his effort would only be rewarded at one of the secret exits of the cave, further East from the one most found, “Zez!” he called out for his partner, “This’n ouh key t’win!” indeed, they had lagged behind and the one she had previously taunted was quite a ways ahead. As such, she took this opportunity and had her Halassa pass the gold-coloured flag that signalled a “Major Boost”. Upon seizing the flag, the stone under Zeinab began to levitate, surrounded by strange runes, and began flying at great speeds through the track. Passing by a large cactus at the optimal altitude for the Virangish rider to simply pluck it out via telekinesis, “Weeeeee!”

Zeinab was thoroughly unimpressed.



Consequently, this boost would make the cliff climb somewhat trivial for Zarina and her mount, although Woren would still be left behind to deal with it himself. This was fine, though, as he had the abilities and RAS to break the obstacles. Plus, he had the PERFECT position once at the peak to begin harassing those that were contesting Zarina’s position in the first place. A lot of kinetic blasts to flip the tortoises and blood-created obstacles. Ayla in particular would meet a giant, sandstone wall before her Halassa, “Seng less gurl, quit makin’yer audience fall asleep!” Zarina burst into laughter even from where she was.



Jocasta’s struggle was a sight to behold, “Hey, Jo! Think fast!” a piece of meat was hurled near the Tethered’s uncooperative mount. It immediately went for the snack with no desire to comply with her demands, “What a cutie! I hope you gave it a nice name.” Zarina stuck her tongue out as she continued to proceed with Zeinab. She was indeed putting herself at risk with a little bit of tomfoolery with Jojo, but then there was Woren who definitely had her back with a monstrous RAS of his own.

Zarina wasn’t finished with her reign of terror, however. Next was Isabella and her duo of Halassa, with one breaking off and consequently slowing her down, although with the lead her team had she still contested the first spot. And so, a little bit of tortoise tipping was in order! The same went for Desmond, although as a more mobile individual, he wouldn’t be as impaired as a Tethered. And finally, there was Nazih. Zarina was consistently fighting with his mount for the head of the race, “قد تعرف الصحراء ، لكنني أفضل صديق لحلاسة!” (You may know the desert, but I'm a Halassa's best friend!) she grinned confidently before really pushing her Zeinab in those last fifty meters. The dragons up above were no issue with Woren’s sacrifice of positions for assistance. The big beasts were going full-speed with their big, clumsy legs.



“Yes yes yes yes yes yes …”

So close! This was going to be tight. But with all the preparations she had made with Zeinab and her abilities as an animal whisperer of sorts, Zarina pulled through just enough to gain a second on her fellow Darhannic, “YEAAAAAHHHHH!” she screeched, arms ripped out of her stony safeties to wave in the air. After a brief celebration on the shell, she hopped off her beast and rewarded it with a yummy treat. Before long Woren would arrive with a modest but decent standing.

“Good game, Mister Firraz.” she smiled and winked at Nazih’s direction. Her attention, after mellowing from her victory high, was on the animal she had stressed for this race. Many pets and scritches followed with little worry given to the next race. Augusto and Talkhan were going to do just fine. The Dragon was fun and all, but only one thing was on her mind after finishing the race: The Treasure in the Cave …

Next up: The Secrets of Zaqhoria! Witness Zarina and her friends discover the dark past of Zaqhoria lost deep within the sands of Torragon! What they will find will shock them for life. Coming soon …

The Hourglass Order

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Velles 5th

Location: The Cathedral Square
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 5:30 HE
Characters: Brother Wolf, Silas @Tackytaff

The Cathedral Square was always a quiet district at the later hours of the day, and yet was one of the only places left open in Ersand’Enise that wasn’t a Tavern deep into the hours of Ipte. A sanctuary for all - That’s what the house of the Pentad was known for, and during the trials it served as a makeshift home for the envoys of the Holy Sees. In truth, they likely would not have denied hospitality to other teams in need, but the presence of two particularly intimidating groups inhabiting the otherwise relatively ascetic establishment left little to be desired next to the accommodations made by the Academy.

Silas had a unique talent that made positioning a luxury he could easily afford. The walls of the Cathedral wouldn’t hold many secrets from him, although the details of those within the confines of the building remained an abstract notion to him as was the colour of the walls right before him. He counted eight people, with three of them sleeping in distinct rooms in the upper floors of the Cathedral. One sat before a desk and busied themselves with scripture and one was content with sitting on a pew at the base floor. Two were also lying down on the roof of the holy building, their attention directed to the heavens - maybe they were sleeping too. A final one was pacing the halls whilst holding what appeared to be a candle.

It was all rather drab for a good twenty minutes. But then the young Icevein would feel a general numbness course throughout his body. It was like a flash, as if he had fallen asleep standing up but instantly woke up. He felt refreshed the same way one would feel after a power nap. Time did not appear to have passed, though, as the leaves being blown by the warm, Dorrad wind were still making their way from one bench to another. Maybe the Dragon had exhausted him a little too much?

And then suddenly he realised: There were only seven accounted for in the Cathedral. The one sitting on the pew had vanished completely. Looking around him, Silas would only see more silhouettes in different buildings and the occasional passerby. Then, he felt yet another numbness - a disconnect from the world around him.

“Good evening.” a masculine voice called to Silas’ right. It came from a tall silhouette that slowly approached him from the intersection behind the Cathedral, “Have you found what you were looking for, young Powergazer?” he entered the light cast by a nearby lamp. Arms behind his back and his attire unchanged since the trials. Silas’ blessed sight wavered ever so slightly, and only for a brief moment, as he distinguished the form and voice of the individual. He was smiling.

It was him. The man on the paper. The Dread Priest himself.

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Velles 5th

Location: Merchant Dormitories
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 5:30 HE
Characters: Brother Lamb @Force and Fury, Colin the Mobster, Desmond @Th3King0fChaos, Trypano @A Lowly Wretch

The initial group separated, whether to get a bigger cut of the prize or to cover more grounds, it was hard to say with the specimens that would take this sort of clandestine job. Silas headed West for the Cathedral, while Desmond suggested East toward the Merchant Dormitories. He was accompanied by the prodigious scholar Trypano in this nightly search for the patrolling priest. The gunslinger’s status as a lamplighter would certainly help in the unlikely circumstance they would be caught outside during curfew. Although, even as the hours of Dami were drawing near, the streets still had quite a bit of traffic, many of which were foreigners visiting for the trials.

Both had to keep their eyes peeled, as it would be easy for a trained envoy of the Church to vanish in such crowds and narrow alleys, especially with what Desmond had witnessed it was clear that Brother Lamb was no pushover. Luckily for them, the herd of people milling about in the streets was growing thinner, allowing for them to get a glimpse of a piously dressed man looking up at one of the dormitories. He was just standing there, fixated.

Before the duo could do anything or get made by their odd target, a trio of men stood in their way. The one in the middle, an average-sized older man with a severely balding hairline, had his hands in his pockets whilst grinning at the sight of Desmond in particular. The other two were burly men with the hygiene one would expect from a mudville goon, both of which held metal pipes with one tapping his palm with the end of the weapon, “Ah, there y’are! Almost thought you’d skip town with all ‘em winnins’, Desmond.” he spat down toward the Magusyaeger’s boot, “Now’s time to pay, or my boys here will be takin’ our rightful pound o’flesh. Get me?” he tilted his head while giving the teen the stink eye.

”Hey, Colin, that’s the bet guy?” called out one of the nearby shop owners.

“That’s ‘em, Aster.” the business owner grimaced in anger as he came in to join the growing mob. Word spread quickly, and now Desmond was made to realise that the Zeno Bucks fight had taken place around this area. Some students emerged too, most shrewd merchant kids that wanted their rightfully earned winnings. Before long, they would be surrounded, with a few definitely capable with the gift, “Now, Desmond, give us the dough or we start by makin’ the big bitch squeal, yeah?” he nodded in the direction of Trypano.

Something bad was about to happen. They did not seem like the type to take any excuses as a valid defence for not getting one’s face bashed in. But just as an inevitable escalation was about to occur, a voice called out that appeased the tension.

“Enough.” Brother Lamb stood tall behind Colin the mobster, “Who d’you think you are, bu-” he froze. Even the locals knew who the hounds of the Holy See were. Colin swallowed his words and piped down.

“This is a matter that falls onto the duties of the Lindrian Order.” he stated calmly while stepping closer to the circled duo. The growing mob stepped aside to let the Dread Priest pass, “Please, return to your homes.” Lamb turned his head to address the general populace with a patient smile on his face, “I will make sure the aggrieved parties are properly compensated.” and the people complied with the head mobster leading the rabble by stepping away, “Reshta favour you all.”

Brother Lamb then looked down at Desmond with adamant and cold eyes, “Desmond Catulus. You are hereby ordered by the Lindrian Order and the Holy See of Varennes to surrender the earnings of those who participated in your bookkeeping services.” he ordered whilst giving Trypano a singular side glance when he finished, “As well as pay a fine of eight incantors.”

Action Opportunities

For Silas: He is currently being accosted by Brother Wolf, having somehow bypassed his Powergazer vision and is likely not going to let him weasel out. The tensions aren’t high, however, with Wolf appearing somewhat casual, even friendly.

For Desmond and Trypano: The mob has cleared, but a bigger threat is afoot. Brother Lamb is demanding Desmond’s debt to be paid. How this is handled is completely up to the players, from cheesing it, to paying it back, to trying and steer the conversation toward their own objective.

The next sequence will be done live for a more dynamic exchange. No hard deadline for now, but I will keep everyone informed in the Discord. Happy posting!

The Hourglass Order

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Velles 5th

Location: The Proving Grounds - Ersand’Enise
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 1:00 HD
Characters: Abdel Saqqaf Aziz @Force and Fury, Evander @RezonanceV, Khaliun, Leander @Creative Chaos, Leon @Animus, Ymiico @Salsa Verde, Yuliya @Suicharte

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Muffled sounds of metal clashing could be heard progressively better as the scouting team roamed near the colosseum. Evander and Ymiico, having opted to climb for a better vantage point, would notice the conspicuous lack of lighting - not only in the arena but also the entirety of the streets surrounding the Proving Grounds. If the gluttonous nature of the Sanguinaire’s recent drinking spree wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the premeditated nature of this whole set up was a powerful red flag to those with any sense. Right over an awning, the two with the highground could witness two shadows going at it over the sands. The sounds remained unnaturally distorted and muffled.

Yuliya, Khaliun and Abdel remained at ground level, the former two out of caution while the latter was quickly convincing himself to barge through the opened gate. ”Wait.” ordered Khaliun to the fired up Abdel. The hooded Vossoriyan sentry turned her head to the left, down the road that circled the grand arena. With a snap of her fingers, she revealed three armoured bodies hidden in the darkness by a statue with a fleeting light ball. They were alive and without any sort of neck wound. ”It is trap.” Khaliun warned, But why all this? the brief silence was broken by Abdel, ”No more waiting, this fiend has hurt enough people!” he rushed into the tunnel. ”Do not follow him.” Khaliun ordered Yuliya as she slowly slipped on a pair of white fur gloves. She didn’t move from her spot.

The Two shadows that stood in the battleground were going at it with speeds that would be hard to follow even with perfect visibility. One was a cloaked figure whose features were hardly distinguishable. If anything, the air around that being appeared almost distorted and straining to the eyes of those that focused too long upon it. The other was an armoured and well-built man with a weapon that could easily be identified as a Langxian. The way he moved and the shape of his armour resembled the elite warriors from Engyu. His stance suggested a strong defence, but he never hesitated to seize the initiative against the being that danced with him. And such brazen offence awarded the Century a direct hit onto the shadowy figure. As visceral as the strike seemed, however, it only appeared to stagger it for a mere second before it moved as if nothing had happened.

With enough attention given to the entirety of the field, those with the vantage point or great reading skills such as Khaliun could pick up on the body left on the sand a good twenty metres away from the two fighters. The clash continued with the century’s armour saving him more than once from the speedy strikes of the alleged Sanguinaire, and in turn another strike was dealt. The mysterious being was repulsed a few feet back and brushed his cheek. Then, the Engyan warrior stomped onto the sand and bellowed a furious roar to blast his foe away. It was loud, but not loud enough for how powerful the blast was - strong enough to make the stone under Evander’s and Ymiico’s feet rumble. And then suddenly the figure was gone. As if they had never existed. There was no echo from the roar, only the crackling of dust and sand settling after the blast.

Behind the immovable warrior was a blurry mass of darkness that had merely tapped his shoulder. He became immovable even toward his own will, helpless to the inevitable drinking that was about to occur. Meanwhile, an exceptionally cold breeze of air brushed right behind Evander. It was as if he could feel a presence behind him the same way the Engyan warrior had just before succumbing to the Sanguinaire’s teeth. And yet the being they were staking out was down there, indulging. The Revidian High Noble would feel the lightest of taps onto his shoulder blade, and he was propelled right toward the arena where the fight had just taken place. Simultaneously to the fight’s unfortunate conclusion, Abdel, who had been keeping back with the bit of restraint he had left, snapped. ”أزله أنت الوحش!” (Unhand him you MONSTER!) the young, fiery paladin dashed forward with flames bursting from the soles of his feet and aimed to tackle the feasting creature.

There was one that wasn’t duped by the many veils that complimented the darkness of the night. Ymiico could see the world for what it was, whether by her own skills as a shinobi or by the will of the being that imposed this warping of perception she could not tell. However, while Evander and Abdel witnessed the Sanguinaire begin to syphon the fluid of life from the Century, she saw the cloaked being already dropping the body and looking straight at her. She could almost swear he was smirking. And then, with speed that greatly outshined even her’s, he was behind her high ground partner and simply shoved him into the arena. The entity, clearly male from his physique now that she could get a good look, stared her down, motionless with his arm still extended after the push.

The illusion had shattered the moment Evander was hurled and Abdel was at range to seize his enemy. It felt like reality itself literally shattered before them with only empty space meeting Abdel’s ire. The Revidian would end up crashing into the Firrazene boy, leaving both of them in the open, right by the unconscious body of the fallen Engyan fighter. ”اللعنة عليك! وحش قذر ...” (Blast it! Foul Beast …) Abdel groaned as he got back up, although Evander could hear none of it. He suffered a terrible case of tinnitus with his head ringing to a near-migraine. He was otherwise fine with Abdel and the sand softening his landing.

Wait, sand? There was no sand. There was no Abdel either. The armoured bodies of the fallen Century no longer appeared rugged and bloodied. No, they were dressed finely with an air of familiarity to them. His vision was still blurry from the landing as well as the incessant buzzing in his head. But as he slowly focused, he came to recognize the Duke Foscari, his own father, lying in a pool of blood with a Langxian planted in his back. Further away was another body, one wearing a traditional wedding dress that was tainted by a fresh layer of crimson. Staring right at him were the hollow eyes of Celestina, recently dead on a velvet carpet. The air around him felt stagnant - he was no longer outdoors. Evander was inside a home, not too different from his, although some of the architecture reeked of Perrench influence. There was also a conspicuous lack of furniture and the ceiling was abnormally high. There was a balcony right at the top with two figures, both looking down at him. One second the one to the left looked like his ally, Ymiico, and then the next it looked exactly like the other one: A hooded, black figure.

The fireplace was crackling and the heat, dull as it may be, could be felt by the young fireblood. It almost felt like a dream - It didn’t feel right, and yet the lucidity was lacking enough to make one willing to accept this as reality. A hand reached out to him, sliding over his shoulder. It was not the same touch as the illusionary foe that had hurled him. No, it was much more tender, ”Sebastian.” it whispered with a feminine voice.

The woman tilted her head as gazes met, and then flashed her hungry, white fangs at him. She was so close, he could feel her hot breath just ready to indulge in his coveted, fiery blood.

”Hey, you alright?!” Abdel had reached out for Evander’s shoulder, checking up on him after that rough landing.

”Sensemaster.” Khaliun kept herself in the shadows and looked up at Ymiico’s direction. Both the Sanguinaire and the Yasoi were up there, while both the Tethered and the Princess could keep discreet for the time being, ”Much stronger than yours.” she concluded, ”We should leave.”

Summary & Action Opportunities

The Sanguinaire has defeated at least one Century and is jacked up on power from the overeating. Using a supremely powerful illusion, he managed to get the jump on those that hoped to have the art of surprise on their side.
-Khaliun and Yuliya remain undiscovered just outside the gate.
-Abdel rushed in and was easily made.
-Ymiico and Evander were sniffed out by the Sanguinaire and ambushed.
-Evander was pushed into the centre of the arena and forced to experience a potent illusion from a Sensemaster (identified by Khaliun) and a master illusionist.
-The whole time Ymiico could see what was going on, seemingly unaffected by the illusion, yet very much outmatched in terms of speed and power to really do anything before her colleague got smacked. She is facing down the enemy at the top of the colosseum over an awning.

Opportunities:
The Sanguinaire is clearly feeling confident right now and has essentially trapped Abdel and Evander in the arena. The rest remain concealed.
-There is still a chance to strategize for those that are unseen: Yuliya, Khaliun, Leander and Leon. The latter two are considered not present just yet. They have a stealth advantage for now.
-Retreat is a possibility, guaranteed for those hidden and a gamble for those that were made.
-You are the many, and while the Century got defeated, he held his ground for a while all by himself. Hope might still be there.
-Viktor will arrive soon. He was exploring another area of the city but has since been informed of the accumulating bodies. Maybe he can help!
-Sanguinaires have specific weaknesses, and Khaliun seems to know a lot about them.

O R I F L A M M E

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Tales of Heroes - The Weasel and The Kitten

Battlefield at the foot of Mount Errant

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^{INTERACTING: Queen Eleanor @Force and Fury Maerec @Dao Ma, Caelum @RezonanceV, Camille @Pirouette, Arsene @Th3King0fChaos, Hildr @jasbraq, Robért Bobignon @Suicharte
EVENT: Fields of Fire || LOCATION: Fields around Mount Errant}

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“Aller, prends-ça! (C’mon, take that!)”

Many wondered what Percival de Perpignan could truly do. Some speculated him to be the strongest man in Parrence, others called him out as a farce. Today he would display the extent of his skill. The Gehenna-class Monsigneus dragon had been left massively disoriented by a pinpoint essence strike from the noble pretty-boy, allowing for others like Maerec to gain ground in subduing the beast and offering a head start to the team, “Ne me décevez pas! (Don’t disappoint me!)” he called out to his troops, many of which died by the dozens, with only the more remarkable mages pulling through.

Percy’s long, blonde hair blew in the searing hot winds ushered in by the fiery breath of the dragon. It engulfed so much and killed so many. The slippery nature of the Stink Knight had saved him from the worst with little more than scrapes on his armour, and he even caved in to help Arsene in a time of need. The act of goodness to his fellow man had the universe give him the protection of his sister when the slime that had gotten him through the worst had run dry from the flames, “You did not need to do that, Eleanor!” he complains with an indignant look to his charcoal-stained face. The fight wasn’t over - Far from it, and their best troops were starting to fall.

It looked bad. The Queen’s defence was beginning to falter and mere men could hardly keep up with a force of nature. Even Percy in his delusions of grandeur began to admit to himself that this was potentially even beyond him. As things were getting worse, observant Thunder mages could begin to feel growing electrical tension in the air. Something was coming. Up above! A glimmer of golden light sparked above the thrashing Tyrannus and descended down upon it just as Maerec had been kicked off again. With a thunderous roar, it looked as though the very heavens had sent a yellow bolt of lightning as punishment to the Gehenna specifically. The creature was temporarily on the ground with electricity running through it, but the scales had clearly softened most of the impact.

A short, armoured Knight emerged from the intense smoke brought by the skyborn strike riding a comically large horse for their size that was also stacked with mail and armour. They bore a big shield on their left arm, and a spear on the other, the latter of which they would peer toward with a mere incline of their heavy helm, “Big and resilient.” they remarked in a metallic and deep voice, although not deep enough to make the sex behind the veil evident. The spear had been slightly bent and chipped from the strike which kept Sasha fixated for a moment whilst the beast rose back up and continued its onslaught.

Despite its growing aggression, its wounds were getting to it with Maerec de Solennes gaining significant ground on the beast. But as it stood, if they didn’t finish this quickly, the Parrench army was as good as dead even with the small reinforcements. Sasha intervened to save the one known as Caelum, hurling their spear toward the ground by the decommissioned paladin, prompting magnetic and blood magics to merge together and form a barrier to save him. Only a little more. Without a spear, Sasha could only help through Essence. And with just that, it would be enough to pacify the beast after a final, decisive strike from Hildr the Red to the dragon’s maw, giving a brief window of vulnerability for the squad to finish this.

What came after was the realisation of many that they had lost an obscene amount of manpower to stop this thing. There had to be a way to make up for it. The decision to tame the beast was made, with Maerec at the forefront. The survivors helped the best they could, with Camille, Sasha and Eleanor performing the final push to finally tame the beast, and Percy keeping a considerable chemical hold on it. The Gehenna was as tamed as a wild beast could be with Maerec as the one it recognised as the dominant human worthy of its respect. Still, that didn’t prevent Percy from indulging.

“Haha! A worthy steed for a dragon slayer such as Percival Perpignan!” Percy exclaimed as he hovered to the back of the beast with no resistance coming from it. After all, he had asserted himself very early on as a threat. Hildr had also earned particular recognition with her ballsy strike at the climax of the battle. The others, well, they had spoils to veer their attention toward. Sasha, without any hesitation or tact, immediately power walked in very loud metallic clangs toward one of the three eggs found in the dragon’s lair. They pocketed one, stared back at the group of men and women that had survived, and just returned among the group as if everything was normal. The same disconnect from others was noticeable when they just pulled the strange rod among the piles of treasure via magnetism before any sort of fair distribution could be made. It resonated well with their manas. They were going to keep it.

“Where is Asier?” the Kitten Knight, having the initial goal to find the King at Chamonix but got side-tracked by the dragon, addressed the question toward the most important person in the room: Eleanor. No introductions. No formalities. Just a loud, demanding voice. “How dare you, Tourrare!” Percival waved his rightfully acquired Scales of Dami to the horse rider whom he recognised the sigil of, “You are speaking to a Queen. Show proper respect, child.”

“Okay.” Sasha made a stiff turn toward Percy before they replied, and then turned back to Eleanor with the same, stiff awkwardness, “Where is Asier, Miss Queen?”

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For the King - Thunderous Roar

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^{INTERACTING: Ulfhild @Salsa Verde, Sweyn @Force and Fury, Rolfe Bobignon @Suicharte, Arcel
EVENT: Fields of Fire || LOCATION: The Plains near Chamonix}

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The Rearguard intercepts Hrothgar’s scouts, spearheaded by Ulfhild the Resilient, with Arnaud stepping up as the immovable wall of King Arcel. The clash is fierce, many of the executioner’s men die to repulse Ulfhild’s own. Ultimately, the seasoned ranger could barely even scratch the hulking man that is Arnaud. Slowly but sure, he gains the upper hand with indiscriminate and unrestrained force. Eventually, Ulfhild is brought to a knee and stares up at her inevitable fate. The axe is just above her with the shadow of Ahn-Eshiran herself cast upon her. But before the finishing blow could be dealt and Eleanor’s mistake rectified, a surge of lightning descends upon both as a form of divine intervention. A heavenly strike that came simultaneous to the one that befell the dragon many miles away.

Ulfhild is still hurt with a deep, bleeding wound on her chest, but it is neither fatal nor enough to subdue her. She is hanging by a string. And Sweyn Thunderspear entered the battle with Arnaud left to defend against the monster on his own. "I would say you had best retreat, big man," warns the eminent sorcerer, "but it would do you no good. This is where your story ends."

Arnaud snarls at the thunder wizard that interrupted his coup de grace. He doesn't move from his spot and stares down the much more powerful man straight in the eyes, "Le bras droit de Hrothgar arrive. (The Right hand of Hrothgar arrives.)" he bellowed as he stomped the pommel of his weapon onto the ground, causing the thick, red ichor on his axe's blade to drip down faster, "I have taken two of your elites already. Your words mean nothing, Thunderspear! You cannot stop me."

With malicious essence magic, Ulfhild is kept from healing for the time being and the two powerful men are left to clash one on one. Sweyn, with his immense power and speed, accomplishes what Ulfhild could not during the entire fight: Heavily wound Arnaud. And with a single arcane spear to the shoulder. Still, the Aheri doesn’t falter, but it allows for the ranger to recover without any hindrance.

"If you run now, to your pretty little king, I may let you live," Sweyn taunted, rising from the ground, arms crossed. The Aheri does not listen, and instead seeks to bury both of them with a powerful earthquake. An attack that both of them easily avoid, as Arnaud feels himself tired after the fiery impalement. "If you will not accept my mercy," Sweyn roars, "then you will die for your pride!" Eyes blazing with magical energies, he picks up the massive figure of Arnaud like a child's plaything and makes a squeezing gesture. Armour begins to crumple. Bones begin to snap. The agony is unbearable. A breath of fresh air entered her lungs. The pain was gone for the most part, still a bit delirious from the bludgeon. Thunderspear had bought her enough time to regain her composure and once again enter the fray. Seeing the Parrench soldier being squeezed like fresh citrus, bought her some joy. She unsheathed her sword and ran towards Arnaud hoping to deliver the finishing blow in the art of a skewer.

Ulfhild's strike is swift and sure. She dodges the roguish Rolfe Bobignon that had come to Arnaud’s rescue who emerges from the shadows and slices down towards Arnaud. By all rights, he should die. Then, her blade is yanked from her hand with incredible force and driven into the muddy ground a handful of yards away. Sweyn casts about immediately for another intruder, as does she, but none is to be found. It is as if the gods themselves have spared this man after having appeared to have condemned him.

He is ready to die. His duty is fulfilled. The Thunderspear is kept at bay, hopefully long enough for Parrench to regain an upper hand. But as the end was nigh, an inexplicable intervention stops this unceremonious conclusion. Arnaud chuckles at this turn of events. It wasn't the Gods that intervened. Or perhaps it was a God. Battered and weakened, he is on one knee and still facing down his enemies, "You will lose this war, Thunderspear. With or without me, Arcel will be victorious." he states with his strong accent, before ripping off the remainder of his armour and clothing on his torso, "Show me what you've got, little man." Rolfe de Bobignon rushes over to Arnaud after witnessing the miracle, and attempts to bind his broken bones back together. "Hold on, Ser! Je suis avec vous!"

Rolfe is severely burned by Ulfhild’s lava strike from below, nearly knocking him out. Arnaud roars in fury. Steam erupts from his being as he stares down the vastly more powerful side. There is little chance of him surviving, but upon seeing Bobignon being pushed to near death already for simply saving him, the Aheri removes all his restraints, "Now I fight as the Zuyr Aheri, Arun!" he growled, his axe tossed aside like it was disposable trash. No armour, no weapon, just his bare hands and incredible speed. He goes to finish what he started with Ulfhild, attempting to seize her with his bare hands.

Rolfe relegates himself to distracting Sweyn, while Arun goes to finish the job. With no armour and no weapon, he uses his hands to slash and smash through everything sent his way while taking any beating needed. Eventually, he does seize the battered woman and smashes her to the ground, readying her for a proper execution. There is no avoiding fate this time, and Ulfhild’s growingly notorious resilience could only go so far. As Arnaud readies his fist to obliterate the ranger’s chest and finish her, Sweyn comes to the rescue once more. His unfathomably massive power on full display.

The moment that he sees Arnaud pummel Ulfhild, Sweyn does not speak. He acts. Prizing her roughly from the giant's grasp, he sets her down on the round before bringing his hands together in front of himself. Seizing the man's arms and legs separately, the Thunderspear hoists him up into the air with naught but a gesture. Considerable strength: that is what the executioner fights his own execution with. It was this man who killed Olaf. It will be the old druid's former pupil who avenges him. Arnaud may be strong, but he is a bucket compared to an ocean when weighed against Sweyn. The sorcerer separates his hands and then it is Arnaud himself who separates. Ligaments and tendons rip and give way. Flesh pulls apart. Eyes bulge and blood gushes.

There is no smile on Sweyn's face, only a grim sort of satisfaction. The Aeresvaktr protect their own. His eyes bore into his victim as he stands there unflinching. Unflinching.... unmoving.

In fact, nothing is moving. The world goes still. Nobody and nothing budges.

For a moment, the only thing that moves it Sweyn's eyes. They narrow and he begins to strain. Another massive power starts to pull against his. Slowly, slowly, and then a little bit faster, the gaps between the five separate pieces of the king's executioner pull themselves back together. The figures in the background reset to earlier positions. Sweyn lets go and Arnaud, wounded but very much in one piece, collapses to the ground. The Eskandr's face looks panicked and he wastes no time lashing out with a colossal thunderbolt the very moment that swirling tear in the fabric of reality opens beside him. His target is none other than Arcel, King of the Parrench.

For all of the power in the bolt, it is absorbed and dissipated effortlessly by Arcel. "I will give you one chance: accept my mercy and leave this field to us now, or you will die here, Sweyn Thunderspear, butcher of Relouse."

Again, he was about to die, and this time in a fashion befitting an executioner and not a warrior. Arnaud was ready to let go, his body barely resisting the unfathomably powerful grip Sweyn had on him. As tough as he was, he screamed in pain from the tearing, but he kept an adamant glare on Sweyn.

Then, it all was undone. Somewhat. Arnaud was in terrible shape, but could still move with his whole body. His heart was killing him, very much tachycardic, but that wasn't going to stop this man, especially after being saved by his lord. Wordlessly, he stood by his king.

"Arnaud, good and faithful ally, you have more than done your duty," said the king. "But you are of no use to me dead or crippled. Take Sir Rolfe are join our army, posthaste. II trust a man of your caliber can still move. Alert them to this Eskandr trickery and send riders ahead to the city!"

Arnaud flinches, but then nods, "A vos ordres, votre majesté. (As you command, your Majesty.)" he wasted no time and Force-hopped to his destination with Bobignon carried along. His heart was about ready to let go, but he was going to at least complete this final order.

"Ulfhild!" called Sweyn. "Go join the Nashorn! I will hold this.... demon off for as long as I can. Bring our troops up. Send riders around to our King's force and we shall have him caught between us!"

"My turn," growled Arcel.

There was a blip: a moment when reality wavered. Nobody was quite certain what happened during it, but the two men stood there, locked in some sort of duel that nobody else could see, as other battles were fought and other people ran to prepare for something that this small action today was merely the harbinger of.

The Hourglass Order

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Velles 5th

Location: Merchants’ Quarters, Isabella’s Residence - Commoners' Dormitory
Day of the week: Lepdes
Time: 3:00 HS
Characters: Abdel, Isabella @Pantothenic

The Free City wasn’t just gorged with foreign students and their fierce supporters on this long week of intense trials, but also of many businessmen from around the world seeking opportunities and new trade lines. It was inevitable that Isabella’s budding endeavour would take this chance to get new fabrics with Abdel running as the errand boy while he could still make use of his legs. He had the rapport with his fellow tethered, allowing for an easy part-time job that paid well. With a set amount given to him by his boss, he acquired specific quantities and types within broad categories to carefully pack and deliver.

Snowsweeper wool from a Barthian trader and top Velvet from one of Carmillia’s own network of clothing lines, not that he knew this luxurious stall was run by a peer. The quantities were relatively restrained and fit in his messenger bag. Part way through the crowds eagerly waiting their turn to try out the foreign goods, Abdel stopped to rest his hand over his left calf to give it a little massage. The thought of participating in a race was not thrilling whatsoever, but he had to push through, at least for himself. He made it back to Izzy’s abode, finally, “Hello, Hola, Guten tag, I got it all!” he triumphantly waved his bag as he removed his shoes at the entrance and made his way to deliver the fabrics onto Isabella’s work table.

“Dude, there was this huge, sweaty beard guy holding out the wool.” he opened up as he laid out the white wool for his fellow Tethered to examine, “Guy just kept staring at me all off-like. So I stare back-” he illustrated the intensity of his glare. It wasn’t much. “So, he snarls ‘cause I’m not backing down. Give me the price of two magi for half of this! I was all like ‘Nah, Nah’,” he waved his hand in an exaggerated manner, “One Magi for four pieces. Final offer. We nearly duked it out but …” he rubbed his chin and grinned confidently, “Let’s just say he’ll know better than to deal with Abdel Varga next time.”

Obviously that never happened. Still, he did seem to get it for a decent price given the change he brought her back. There were likely other methods used, some not so brag-worthy, “So, meat. Why not just get regular meat from the butcher? You’d save yourself an Owl or ten.” he crossed his arms and half-sat at the edge of the robust table.

The Hourglass Order

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Velles 4th

Location: Merchant Dormitories - Zarina’s Quarters
Day of the week: Victendes
Time: 1:00 HD
Characters: Arlo, Riesco, Zarina

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“Thanks, boys. I’d offer hot coffee but …” Zarina snickered at her joke as she waved the movers goodbye once they had installed the large, mammoth wool bed into her dorm “room”, which was more so a comfortable apartment, she had won in the auction. A lot had to be moved and the comfortable and oversized cushion took a lot of the living space, but it didn’t seem to perturb her whatsoever. There was also an unsigned portrait of Queen Eleanor made to hang on her wall, although it definitely came off as a placeholder.

The Virangish lass took some time to admire the new state of her temporary home with a glass of red wedged between her middle and ring fingers of her right hand. What a day it was, and she was feeling the exhaustion creeping into her for an early sleep. But before she could get too deep in self back-patting, a collection of clicks and calls directed at her came from the hanging bird cage she had near one of the windows. Arlo was frustrated - he did not get his evening snack! Fighting Yasoi and bidding massive coinage for beds and pieces of art would make anyone forget about responsibilities.

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighed and put away her half-finished glass on the nearest surface, “at least say please, little man.” she stopped before the thin bars of the opened cage and shook her visage before it. Suddenly, a little, blue head emerged from the makeshift shelter inside of it. The chirping continued and wasn’t going to stop, “A kissie first.” she ordered. Arlo didn’t budge, not yet, “A kissie.” she tapped her nose and waited for a good minute. Like a cat, it seemed this little critter was taking his sweet time to be decisive. Eventually, he did crawl out and approached his master’s face, only to then rub his snout over the tip of her’s, and then go for a harmless bite on it, “There we go! Good boy.”

An already halved peach was seized from a cupboard and delivered to the reptile. It enjoyed its snack, and eventually returned to its abode for a scheduled sleep. Next, Zarina was reminded of her next child she had to tend to: Riesco. He had gotten proper treatment in the morning, but she could do better. A descent to the stables would have her meet with the Camargue horse, calmly resting over hay with his ears perking at her arrival. He recognized her steps and was quick to stand and greet his friend, “Hey you.” she cooed, hands quick to venture through his mane as she stepped into his pen. Riesco was well brushed and clean barring from the hay stuck to him. The pen, however, could be better with filth left at the back, “دعنا نجهزك للنوم ، أليس كذلك؟ (Let’s get you ready for sleep, yeah?)” she seized a broom and got to work.

The horse’s little home was cleaned and the old way replaced with a fresh pile for him to indulge in, “Noisy day, huh?” she kept speaking in Virangish, “Loads of new people. Kind of made me anxious at the start too.” Riesco shuffled about to give his rider some space to manoeuvre, “But that wasn’t so bad.” she passed her hand over his side and slowly brushed through his grey and white fur, “I got kind of scared today, though.” she confessed, and he turned his head at his friend’s change of tone, “I don’t have the best of feelings about what’s to come. Something just-” she reached out to Riesco’s snout and let him sniff. No treats, which prompted him to frisk Zarina a little with more sniffing and lip flapping, “doesn’t seem right.” he then made chewing motions while she rested her forehead on his, “Good night, my sweet.” and with a kissie good night, she left her horse with a clean pen.

Back to her residence, Zarina briefly paused to notice a good dozen of armoured individuals march through the bigger streets. Strange, and only increased her worry. She took a warranted bath given all that she had gone through that day. Afterward, a prayer. Her bedroom wasn’t too big with a relatively large wardrobe, a queen sized bed and a night stand. And, of course, an end table with both her Froabas eggs placed with custom-made incubation kits that kept them safe, warm and exposed to the sun during a good portion of the day. She prayed before the eggs over a carpet she unrolled from under her bed. A brief but important ritual, before she collapsed onto her bed from exhaustion.

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Velles 5th

Location: Some Tavern
Day of the week: Lepdes
Time: 5:00 HS
Characters: Augusto, Desmond @Th3King0fChaos, Jomurr @Force and Fury, Kaspar @Wolfieh, Yuliya @Suicharte, Zarina, The Hegelans

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“BLEEUUUGGGHHH!”

Zarina was sick as a dog, huddled in a corner of a tavern after having ingested one too many mana concoctions from their new teammates. It started fine with her capitulating to peer pressure and masterfully taking a prime shot. But the second … She never thought she could unleash that many fluids in such a small span of time. Still, in her zeal to not be one-upped, she went for another shot, and vomited the entirety of her half-digested breakfast and the manas in her stomach. Loads of wheezing and moaning could be heard as she continuously barfed out yet more bile.

”Never took you for a lightweight, Al-Nader.” teased Jomurr with a smirk. He had no issues keeping his shot in, and wasn’t foolish enough to go for more, “Fuck. You.” she turned her head and flipped him off, “Awh shit …” she quickly aimed for the bucket again and let nature do its thing. Waves became spittles and eventually she emerged. Sweaty, pale and seeing double, she stumbled toward a table and seized the first drink she could find.

It was a basic mana brew, accidentally left by one of her new teammates. It was too late to stop her, she was going to wash the awful taste out of her mouth one way or another. It was entirely downed before she could even process the taste. Everyone froze and just stared at her, ready to take cover. Zarina was standing stiff, eyes wide and her hands over her tummy. ”She’s gonna blow!” called out one of the bar patrons.

“Burp.”

She felt a tad refreshed. The foul, acidic taste was replaced by an equally foul but cool one that didn’t burn her throat. The energy that coursed through her from the increased mana count definitely helped too, “Okay. So!” she clapped her hands together to get her team’s attention as some emerged from their hiding spots. Her eyes shifted left, and then right, before an infantile grin took form, “Back to it.” she seized the nearest shot and offered it to Desmond.

Poor Desmond.

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Velles 5th

Location: The Grand Plaza
Day of the week: Lepdes
Time: 2:00 HE
Characters: Arlo, Casii @Pirouette, Maura @Ti, Zarina

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“What in Eshi’s …”

Zarina overheard quite a few fellow students pipe up over the news of a cooking contest of all things. Something about a Perrench Marquis, a rare meat and cash to be made. It was only when the Snowsweeper, a notoriously endangered species from the South, was mentioned that the Virangish businesswoman took interest in the notion. It was her break from the post-trial Zeno Bucks shift after all. She butted in and attempted to peek into one of the few fliers around, “Give me that.” she snagged the paper from the Perrench boy and took a read while giving her apron a few brushes with her idle hand.

“Rare and big game hungry assholes. Great.” she folded the paper and tossed it back over to the not-so-happy kid she took it from, “And wants us to do a cook-off. Sounds like broke nobility wanting to make a comeback.” she sighed as she reached over to her shoulder where Arlo, her Blueberry dragon, emerged from her mane and peeked out. Little scritches were graciously offered to the critter and in turn it responded with purr-like clicks and a few “Mep”s.

More students seemed intrigued by this news, and a couple of familiar faces could be distinguished from the crowd. Well, a face and a chair for one of them. “You don’t suppose either of you are qualified enough to be considered a butcher or a cook are you? Because that job is gleaming with opportunity”. inquired Maura as Zarina entered the small group with Casii being involved as well, “If you do, then we have the skill, and my resources to exploit this for all it is worth. Want to partner up?” the Virangish teen crossed her arms whilst Arlo took flight to circle over the group. He looked a little overwhelmed by the number of people gathering in the plaza.

“Opportunity? You wanna off and cook a Snowsweeper, Maura?” and then she squinted before leaning in a little, “Good on you to join the school, by the way.” no smile, no fluctuation in tone, just slightly pursed lips as she greeted the wheelchair-bound girl. Arlo would end up landing on Maura’s shoulder and sniffle through her hair, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve no desire to do that.” she peered over at the Yasoi and glared, “However I know she wouldn’t hesitate to grind and mangle creatures for obscene purposes.” she exhaled aggressively from her nostrils.

“Tell you what, though. As Ayla’s good friend, I’ll hear you out. If only to prevent this one from killing thirty animals for fun.” Zarina crossed her arms with a stiffer posture adopted, “I can do butchering - I’ve done that quite a bit when travelling. Just don’t expect me to slaughter all willy nilly.”

tl;dr

-Zarina has her auction winnings brought home. Tends to her pets and prays before sleep. She feels anxious about the future. Also notices the Century.
-She barfs most of her mana shots. Lightweight as fuck. Downs a brew anyway. Party goes on.
-Hears Maura out on this 'opportunity' involving this cooking competition. She doesn't want to slaughter an endangered animal and antagonizes Casii in this specific context.