1. Home
  2. YummyYummy

YummyYummy Member

Ayyyyy

Avatar of YummyYummy

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





Sleeping Carp was wordless as he led Abdel toward the water. The others had split off in their different directions and one of the Twins had walked up close to Jocasta and taken the seat beside her. Then, as they neared the pond's edge and Abdel might've thought that they would stop, the Black Guard just kept on moving. His feet left ripples in the water, but these spread outwards with unnatural slowness. He twisted at that same speed and looked back at the youth with expressionless expectation.

Of all the Black Guard, Abdel had to end up with the stoic and infamous Sleeping Carp. There were rumors of his near-divine strength, with many jokes also coming at his expense with how slow he was said to be. All the teen truly knew for syre was that this was a Sanguinaire and was more than capable of killing him on the spot. He was visibly nervous, as evidence with his right hand clenching his left wrist. The quietude was the worst. Like waiting for the inevitable slap from an angry parent. Abdel froze when Carp finally acknowledged him, audibly gulping and constantly hesitating between making eye contact or looking down out of humility. “Uh, hehe,” he did not know why he tittered there, it just came out. “greetings. Errr, I'm Abdel Varga of Torragon?”

The large, stocky man smiled softly and the water rippled around the boy's feet. It became an image: Torragon on a map, and a place in the desert. The water raced. A path led back to Virang and disappeared in the haze. Sleeping Carp shot him an expectant look the same as he had a minute ago.

Abdel blinked and recognized the desert. Well, it could be any desert, but something about it just felt like Torragon. He smiled back at the man and nodded. “Yeah. Lots of sand. Have you ever been?” already he felt a bit more at ease with his hands moving to his sides.

Sleeping Carp nodded, and they continued walking, past an island where a drunk and a masked woman postured. Next, he stopped beside a large rock that rose just high enough to be visible in the bluish-green murk and the water formed something: a question mark.

Abdel nodded again and pursed his lips, unsure of where to lead this subject. He followed and stepped closer to the water to acknowledge the shape. “Questions? Uhm.” he mused for a moment. “What do you want from me? Help you? Just step aside? Say something to my friends?” he was beginning to overthink, especially as the only actual voice in this conversation. “If you want me to tell you the truth, I don't really know how to feel about any of this. I'm just-” he continued to walk, head sunken a little. “some kid with big lizards that finds people. This is ... So much.”

The big man reached out then, and it was... was it slow or was it fast? His hand was simply there. It was on Abdel's shoulder and it squeezed gently. There were pictures of lizards in the water and they grew and grew. He shook his head. There were images of Abdel and his skuggvars fighting various members of the Black Guard. In each case, they died in horrible and sometimes darkly comical ways. Sleeping Carp grimaced, albeit very slightly. An emphatic cross was put through the images of fighting. The Black Guard continued walking and Abdel knew what to do by now.

Abdel flinched when he felt the hand before he could even see it. His eyes widened and his forehead accumulated droplets of sweat. “Facing you is certain death.” he interpreted, tittering at the more absurd variations. His pace matched the bald man's. “But letting this rule continue isn't right either. I-” he thought about it. It wasn't right but said who? The being that never showed its true form? The Sanguinaire keen on bloody conquest? Wu Long ... “Wu Long.” he mumbled to himself. “The only one to claim rulership should the empire fall is Wu Long. A man I hardly know.” he rubbed his shoulder, head sunken again. He scoffed. “I don't know what future can be brought to his land by such a man. But I resent what's been done with it. All your people, rendered dumb and helpless, relying solely on you, the rulers, to be protected. I lived in a place like that.” deep breaths, if he was to meet a comically bad end, it wouldn't be as a pussy. “It was awful. And I'm sure more than a few feel that way.”

Wu Long. Sleeping Carp went still at the name. After a moment, he shook his head. "He is an ancient evil, reawakened," rumbled the Black Guard. His face was stoic, his brow furrowed. He had not spoken in nearly a dozen years. "I will show you all, if you let me." Abdel was motioned forward.

Abdel flinched even harder when he heard the man's voice. The carp spoke? The rumors of his adamant silence were exaggerated. Or this was the real deal. “An ancient evil? The dragon?” it was a strange thing to hear, a Sanguinaire calling something ancient and evil in the same phrase. But it made sense. “But he works for something. Many somethings.” he wagged his finger at the direction of Carp and then brought it to his chin. “According to Ash, anyway. But why would he lie when he was about to die?” he looked at Carp inquisitively, as if they were both cracking a case together. The shared look awakened Abdel from his moment. “Ah, uhm. Yes. I'd like that.” he awkwardly stepped forward, ready to be shared some wisdom.

A heavy hand came down upon his head: not deliberately rough, but heavy nonetheless. "You will see," the sanguinaire rumbled, and 'see' Abdel did. He saw moments in a life stretching back thousands of years. He saw neolithic, copper, and bronze age Retan under the dragons: how they had bred and crafted the mana slimes to redistribute energy to where they saw fit. Certainly, they had allowed magic and it had flourished under them. Certainly, it - and other sapients - had existed to serve their ends.

That was not all, however. Abdel saw the many peoples that had passed through this land: the hegelans, who had been driven away; the ogauraq and humans, who had been made into servants; the yasoi who were incorrigible and suffered for it. Once upon a time, Sleeping Carp himself had fought the dragons when men had risen up against them. He had ruled, briefly, as an emperor named Cheng.

Then, had come his fellow sanguinaires, including one whom he called 'brother'. That brother had struck him down and he had nearly died. The face of that man was unmistakable. It was the Progenitor. He was here. There were years in quiet exile, as a monk, a village leader, a fisherman. There were wives and sons and daughters, but he had watched them all die before him. If the dragons no longer ruled openly, they came to rule again, from the shadows. Retan was a land of harmony instead of choice, that way of thinking woven indelibly into its cultural fabric. Still, the energies of magic flowed inward to the dragons and outward to the people like controlling tendrils, and the great beasts remained indolent and arrogant instead of wise.

This, then, was one of the reasons why magic had been so strictly regulated: the dragons could drain it. They could use it. The more that there was, the stronger they became. The stronger they became, the more tyrannical. Yet, there was more. Some seven hundred years ago, his brother had returned to him. He was now unquestionably the greater between them, and any ill-will had faded. It was the prerogative of humans to stand on their own, he had insisted, to establish and maintain their own order. Those above him had decreed it so, for the dragons were poor servants of order. In the background, hovering in the shadows behind the world of Sipenta, behind the many thrones and crowns of men and gods, was the shape of a great being with many arms.

Sleeping Carp had not wanted to serve, but his brother had reconciled with him and bid him to do so. It was the only way that men might stand tall, and sanguinaires were their most potent weapons against the forces of such monsters as existed beyond the light of their science and knowledge. Besides, if there was one thing that he and the Progenitor had both craved, it was an end to the rule of dragons, brazen or secretive.

So, he had groomed and watched over two of the Sanguine Council's chosen: another pair of brothers, and had determined that it would be different for them. He had come to know them and their hearts. He had come to share a dream with them, to make difficult decisions. The power of the Knowers - that was a word that was impressed upon Abdel, then - was overwhelming, and the Progenitor, as their servant. So, he and the twins, as they had grown in their determination that things might change, had begun to make compromises.

They had played the roles allotted to them. They had taken on others, over time, until they had seized the throne. One bad emperor, one slip from the dragons, and they had done it. Yet, the work of governing was onerous. The requirements of the Sanguine Council kept them bound. Sleeping Carp had stepped away from such machinations, for he was weak, despite his strength, and they disgusted him. Now, the Twins had pushed against good faith and driven to anger those who stood against them, so that they might finally act and be revealed. That was the crossroads at which they now stood. The man lifted his hand away.

Abdel lived through countless lifetimes in the span of a few moments. It was far too much for his developing, human brain. At least he could understand Ismette to an extent now, not that he knew her all that much. When Carp let go, Abdel fell onto his backside, numb and changed. He had seen what no human was supposed to see, and it hurt so much on a mental level. Most alarming was the unfathomable form of the cosmic monstrosity that stood above it all. He kept picturing that image over and over, and each time cause him to recoil and clench his skull with one hand. “Why did you show me this?” he inquired, although it was more accusatory than curious.

“Why would you ever show me all of this?!” he fell to his back over the perfectly cut grass, facing the sky and both hands now pressed to his skull. The Twins were not the evildoers, Wu Long was a slave to a horrible thing and this terrifying Black Guard had the power to match Gods. But that wasn't what tormented Abdel so much. Now the choice was impossible. It didn't even matter who he believed, every path was leading to something terrible for someone, especially himself and his friends. They oppose the Emperors, they die, they oppose Wu Long, they are noped by that disgusting monster, they oppose Nikan and they face the wrath of all the bloodsuckers. And all of this because he took a slightly bigger job than his usual hunts. His meek desire for a promotion in his side gig and getting Maura her cute trade deals led him into this rabbit hole of pure Hell. He began to giggle, almost meniacally so as he looked to Carp. And then he screamed. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” arms flailing and bashing the ground behind him while still on his back. His hands gripped his hair and tugged without actually ripping anything off. The screaming lasted a good ten seconds until his throat gave in. He just needed to let it all out. He needed to scream since the Nikanese attack, but now there was no need to bottle things up. He was FUCKED in any case. Eventually, he did calm, his chest heaving from his outburst.

“Cheng.” he called out with the raspiest of voices. “I don't want to die.” he uttered meekly, eyes to the sky again. “I don't want any of them to die either. My classmates. Even if they take the most vapid of deals. I don't want them to die. They didn't ask for any of this.” he hardly blinked, causing his eyes to get teary, but he wasn't crying. No, he had no idea how to feel after this massive existential terror he experienced. “What's stopping those dragons, and that thing, from just killing us all if we oppose? Or that ... Brother of yours. Or anything.” both his tanned hands covered his face. “I want to just leave. I don't want anything. No riches or greater powers. I ... want to go home. But I can't.” his hands slid down a tad to reveal only his eyes. “I can't just leave them. I wasn't left behind by people who risked a lot for me and my family.” his eyes peered to Carp again. “What do I do? What CAN I do?”

Sleeping Carp just watched the boy. If he felt remorse, he did not openly show it. Then, he sunk into a crouch. "What's stopping them is our power," he replied simply. "Ours, and the sirrahi's. You've heard of them?" He shook his head. "Don't worry, Abdel. You're still a boy and there's no shame in that, but you're strong, you're only going to get stronger, and I promise you that you're not alone. Nearly every one of your friends has accepted our offers. I will also fight beside you." The monk smiled and say cross-legged on the water beside the boy. "To not fight when you have the power is to lose regardless."

It was then that something strange happened. Sleeping Carp touched the water's surface and, as far as Abdel could see and sense, he saw not only space and the things in it, but time as well. He could sense it. He could feel it as if it were a tangible thing. Every person, every thing was multiple images: past, present, and possible futures. They branched. "Besides," the Black Guard concluded. "We have monsters of our own. In time, this is a power that you might hold as well." That was when Abdel turned his attention to himself. For a split second, he could see some of his futures, and it was true, what Sleeping Carp had said, or at least, it could be.

Words and reassurances, all did little to pacify Abdel. It could all be an elaborate lie, they were all obscenely powerful after all. He looked up to Sleeping Carp, having sat up to match the crouching man. For a time he had felt on edge around this man, and this feeling got worse after knowing what he was, but to see and hear him talk changed something. The teen did not feel in danger. He should, these people could so easily kill him and they'd have some justification for it. But not now. There was a total lack of hostility in the Black Guard that disarmed Abdel, if only slightly. He was about to talk, but nothing came out of his mouth. Something else was shown that had him forget what he wanted to say. He saw the past, his past, from before he was even from the Refuge. Familiar faces he had long since forgotten the names of, and a city he had enjoyed adventuring in. The present, all the events that led him to this pond. Wu Long in particular, the hindsight he was given made every interaction with the dragon-avatar appear more and more convenient. The group was at the right place at the right time. It was ... Suspicious. Then finally came the future. Many futures. Deaths. Happiness. So many paths. But there was one that really took his attention. It was never clear, only 'glimpses' and feelings. One branch showed him, a few years from now, still on his two feet and his magic intact. For all intents and purposes, he looked cured of the malady that he hated so much. “I-I can walk. I'd be rid of it ...!” he muttered as he shot Carp a look with restrained excitement in his eyes. “How can this be done? How is this even possible?!” deep down he knew the answer. He now believed Carp's words, that his friends sided with the Empire, but he wanted one final reassurance - a final gesture to put his worries at ease.

Sleeping Carp rose, but his arm reached down, hand open in front of Abdel. He spoke only a single word: "Together."
In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Present: Ashon’amar’loiyang @Ti, Cal’tuuro’jaros @Suicharte, Casii’fyret’alan @Pirouette,
Dorothea Hohnstein @Jasbraq, Kaspar Elstrøm von Wentoft @Wolfieh, Edyta Łaska @Force and Fury,
Ymiico’luun’yoru [@Salsa Verde], Taleja Drakenknecht, Lycans, Father Jacques Dubosque, Brother Baudile Dubosque,
Viktor Strauss, Laura, Cristophe Wiliken, Margot, Denis, The Birds



There were a few absentees in this wicked, four-mooned night. Father Dubosque was nowhere to be seen, that was what many in the Church had noticed. But Laura had disappeared from the group just as Qasem had taken Dorothea and Viktor, the supposed hunter of beasts, had also vanished without a trace. They were both, in fact, not too far from the lodge at a vantage point atop a hill, bearing witness to the blood fest as the cabin broke down from the dark bolts and the wolf’s rampage.

“Do you want me to shoot him now?” spoke Laura in Kerreman, her Koppelman readied and trained at the cabin. She wore a hood and cloak that went well with her petite and lithe figure.

“Nein.” answered Viktor, knelt at the edge of the cliff with binoculars aimed toward Leluun in particular. “She is the true problem. If that Yasoi gets the crown, I’ll need to do something. We need to get rid of her regardless.” he sighed in exasperation. Laura moved to aim her sights on the other-Ismette.

Then, the girl blinked. “S-she’s gone.” it was so quick. Vedil’s assault had proven fruitful, and the witch had been destroyed. “I didn’t see it. What the hell are we dealing with here, Viktor?!” the young woman apprehensively inquired, only to meet complete nonchalance from the hunter. “Something we can’t let get taken or killed.” then remained the beast. “Kill the Darhannic before he causes harm to the host.” a hesitant Laura readied her gun again. “And the Magusjaeger?” she asked, now composed and her breathing balanced for a coming shot. “I’ll handle it.”

Laura was ready to take her shot. A final, big inhale as Qasem stayed in place to offensively draw matter from the two. The perfect opportunity. It would have been, anyway, if the cross of her rifle wasn’t suddenly smashed into her chin and face. Again, Laura wasn’t able to react to the speed of the assailant. Her face was blooded and she fell on her back, now disarmed by the attacker. Viktor, on the other hand, had already drawn his knife and got to an appropriately defensive position without giving too much range for the attack to use that rifle on him.

♫


“Turin got what was coming to her for not killing you on the spot.” commented Viktor, immediately recognizing who had intercepted them. He chuckled, clearly itching for a fight, or just downright murder of what he hated the most in the world. “You estimateless good charms.” while the words sounded like they made a joke, the tone was nothing but amused from the female. “Margot must should burned the forest in your sleeping. Would havein saved many people.” she growled. Viktor scoffed. “Look who’s underestimating now.”

Just as they were about to clash, Laura tried to stand, only to be met with suction cups binding themselves to her joints and a land-squid coiling itself around her to keep the girl down. “Ahhh! What is- ?!” her lips were shut, and her partner did not pay her any mind. His focus was solely on the Sanguinaire empowered by the night.

It was going to be a knife fight, the rogue and the hunter, to the death. Blades clanged and sparks illuminated the dark peak they were dancing upon. Margot had the speed and the nighttime strength could match Viktor’s muscular bulk. The blonde hunter compensated with experience, most notably against her kind. What he did best was use the environment and magusjaeger tactics to get the jump on her.

Catching her off-guard, Viktor nearly stabbed her in the chest, with only an inefficient cross-armed block from below being improvised by Margot. “You should have stayed in that cave.” sweat drops fell upon the pale girl’s face as he exerted himself fully to try and snuff her. “Monster! Margot will never forgive what you did.” her anger fueled her, and with a burst of energy, she pushed back, causing Viktor to stumble backward and struggle to get his footing. “What you trickered us to do! All these people …” a brief look was directed toward Mandelein, where the flames of destruction illuminated the horizon.

When she turned to face her opponent, a large gash had formed across her face. It began to heal as it formed, but the pain was impossible to ignore, just as the massive man an inch away from her nose was. She wanted to draw and form a spell that could dwarf any of his abilities, and yet he was always too close and intercepted any attempt to cast anything intricate. Additionally, her strength could only match his. “If it wasn’t them, it’d be just somewhere else!” exclaimed Viktor as he finished his assault with a brutal punch to the gut, causing an air bubble to form in her stomach via his deep kinetic skills, with the subsequent popping causing big internal damage. “There was no stopping this, kid. Just as there’s no stopping them.”

A battered Margot struggled to get on her feet. When she looked up, a handgun barrel was to her face. “Now return to dirt, carcass.” but just as his finger pulled on the trigger, the bits of energy she had managed to store and failed to cast all went into a very focused explosion of heat inside the barrel. An internal arcane smell that caused the powder to prematurely explode, making the whole thing burst. “UGH! You little shit!” growled Viktor in pain, his hand and forearm burned and filled with shrapnel. They began to heal rather quickly too.

Margot, seizing her chance, whistled for Schleim to free its prisoner and hop onto her back. “Margot will meeting you again, hunter.” standing at the edge of the cliff, she glared at the man with raw hatred. “Will drink you, and destroy you.” she then hopped into the dense darkness of the forest despite the efforts of both Mandelein renegades. By the time they were in position, they could not get a clear shot and she had since escaped their range.

“You were made helpless by a Stumpfkrake.” he remarked whilst peering at a dishevelled Laura. “I-I was stuck. I didn’t expect it to be so quick.” a little panicked, she clenched the gun in her hands and raised it slightly. “You will be expected to redeem yourself. And soon.” he said threateningly before raising his binoculars once more to see Manfred vanishing and Dory rising with the crown once again on her head. Viktor grinned.



♫


Dorothea Hohnstein von Albesatz-Danzau was alone in the middle of the forest with the only nearby shelter recently brought to nothing by the recent battle. There laid the corpse of Qasem Laghmanin, her would-be killer had it not been for Manfred, her lover who had abandoned this world. And finally, there was a singular, red feather set conveniently before Dory’s footwear, the last trace of Leluun in this world. It was dark and quiet, no wildblood was nearby and the only lightsource was the Feskan’s own creation.

But after a half-minute, a once concealed presence made itself visible, standing over the corpse of the once-ally. It was Viktor, and Laura followed soon after. “I see you did not need any help with this or that witch.” he remarked, posture straightened and muscular arms crossed. “And you’ve accepted your destiny.” a conspicuous glance was shot at the crown. “A relief!” he merrily clapped his hands, smiling bright at the newly made avatar.

He kneeled once more and searched the pouches that remained tied to Qasem’s belt. Due to the morphology of the lycanthrope, legwear had a tendency to survive the transformations. Out came the metallic vial that looked identical to what Kaspar had found before, and was one of three in the container from the boat. “Stolen goods recovered.” he said, which prompted a nod from Laura. “You will need to explain this to your friends. It is a bit strange that a single wolf took down two of you, don’t you think?” he looked to Dory as he pocketed the peculiar object and then approached her.

“Keep it simple. The more you try to detail, the more it will sound like you’re trying to convince. Only guilty people do that.” he was a few feet away from her now, hands on his sides. “Repeat after me. Manfred was grievously wounded putting down Qasem. Your friend Ismette argued to spare your friend, and it spiralled into an argument, where she got stabbed by Manfred by accident.” as he spoke, Laura seemed to be prepare Qasem’s large body for something as she stretched the legs and arms to have the whole thing on display. “Manfred, as he was about to die, finished off Qasem and succumbed to his wounds. All to protect you. Understood?” he raised a brow as he made deep eye-contact with Dory.



♫


The group of students, including Denis and Brother Baudile, had just barely escaped what was certain death. Cristophe and Laska ensured their exit was covered by an explosion and the vines that served as support for the bypass made to the old tunnel did not crumble down and bury those lagging behind. There was an initial rush among the group - a desire to cover about a kilometre of distance at a brisk pace before the monk spoke up. “I think -” he huffed, clearly exerted from the previous ordeal. “we’re good, for now. We need to think of our next move, sim?”

Cristophe was quick to interject. “Nicht für lange. (Not for long.)” he kept his words brief, and then shifted to a very limited Avincian. “Them up. Fell.” he pointed upwards, and of course with simple drawing one could sense the masses scrambling and ‘following’ their energy signatures, albeit they seemed to lack precision. “We go. Yeah?”

The tired clergyman shook her head and gestured rapidly. “If we don’t think of what we do, they’ll catch us and surround us the moment we come out.” and just as he said that, some of the earthen walls began to crack, causing falls of dust to occur semi-frequently. “If they don’t dig in here first. We need to find somewhere safe for the night.” he argued, looking at the group.

“And the day,” Taleja mused, her expression obscured by the mask. “Even though they are not visible, the moons are still above us during the day. It is the alignment, not their light, that determines the strength of mana-types. A less poetic outcome than the myth of howling under a night of full moons.” She commented, her tone dry and matter of fact. “When will they revert, then?” asked Kaspar, making efficient use of his time to heal the wounded, although he could only do so much when bodies were worn down to such a point. “Revert? Optimistic. However, they should become more manageable by tomorrow evening,” she stated, her voice steady and composed.

A collective rise in heart rates, including even Taleja’s, could be felt by those morbidly curious enough to sense. This was terrible news.

“Die Abwasserkanäle führen zum Fluss. Mit etwas Glück könnten wir vielleicht ein Boot finden … (The sewers lead to the river. With luck, maybe we could find a boat …)” suggested Denis, who was promptly translated by one of the competent linguists. “Too dangerous. You saw how quickly they closed in on you. I fear the worst for those that didn’t make it to the Church.” Baudile formed the sign of the Pentad before brushing his greasy hair back. “Ich weiß, wo ein kleines Boot zu finden ist. Ich kann auch Hilfe finden. Ich werde meinen Geruch und meine Anwesenheit verbergen und sogar alleine gehen. Weniger Aufmerksamkeit. (I know where a small boat can be found. I can find help too. I’ll hide my scent and presence, and even go alone. Less attention.)” the group has since reached a branching path, all of which leading to different sewer passages, with one being a direct line to the castle, while a more convoluted path led to the river. A loud clanging noise was heard in the direction of the latter.

“I’m going to be real with you people.” Cal began, the most inwardly frightened of the bunch, but outwardly had managed to keep his composure. “I am not going back out there. We need to lay low. Surely we can hide somewhere.” Laska shot him a glare, but Baudile spoke up with an idea. “The Castle.” he said to get the group’s attention. “The walls were designed to keep such beasts, likely even stronger, in. Logically, they could also keep them out, yes?” a longshot, but he had his reasons to visit this final landmark. Laska knew this. “A handful, perhaps, Brother. But an army?” she challenged him with a rhetorical question. “Are your hopes to find Father Dubosque, your own Brother?” she did not hide the slightly accusatory nature of her question, but at the same time her tone held no real threat. “He’s alive.” Baudile said firmly. “I don’t know where. But he is. Whether he’s at the castle or not, it doesn’t matter. I want to live this dreadful day, and this seems like our best chance.”

There wasn’t much discussion to be made, as talking slowed them down, and in turn they began to hear more clanging and banging. Something was coming from the sewers. “We should leave. The Castle will at least hold. Then we can go underground to retreat.” they made a run for it, but just barely a few seconds in, seismic activity induced by something caused dirt and rocks to fall. The tunnels were old, there was no way they were that sturdy. Ultimately, it did not cause much trouble, but Denis shouted a few words along the lines of ‘I will find you!’ and ‘Just go, I know what I’m doing!’ before he ran to the opposite direction of the castle tunnel, right where the sounds were coming. One less to the team.

♫


A good ten minute push through the uncertain tunnels eventually led to the end. A metal grid prevented their ascension to the surface - nothing blood magic couldn’t remedy. They would emerge in the courtyard, long since vacant of leisurely strollers and gossiping gawkers. But despite its lack of use in over a century, the flowers were maintained, hedges trimmed and the benches cleaned. There were also torches and lanterns that illuminated every part, much like the many lights visible within the castle that stood mighty before them. Had it not been for Laska’s and Dory’s investigation, they could easily deduce this was very much inhabited.

It was eerily quiet, still, with only their own bodily sounds and the flickering of the torches to be heard. Even the wind was muted due to the massive walls that circled the whole property. If they reached out with their senses, they would only sense minute traces of life, but nothing akin to a Wildblood, and all of it outside the walls. The gates were closed and reinforced, but the large entrance doors to the Castle itself were wide open, as if someone had forgotten to close them, or guests were expected.

But before any could enter, the group was interrupted by a voice - one very familiar to some.

”Squaaaawwwwk! Alive! Alive! They are alive!” said one red bird, its presence suddenly detectable, along with another.

”EEEEK! They should be dead! Deady-dead! Not precious enough to not-dead.” talked the other bird, sitting over one of the few trees planted in the courtyard. Both took a branch.

”Wait. Precious? I can see it! Smell it!” the demonic-looking one began to bob its head and stared right at Sister Laska. ”Show it, yes! Shoooowwww it!”

”We will reward with special precious! Oh yes! Choice of precious!”

Once presented with the offering, they would present their own offer.

”One precious to choose. Yes! One.”

”Of three. Three precious. Very important. Choose wisely.”

”What waits for you is certain death. More death than the town. Oh yes. Very death!” they foretold. They had not been wrong so far. A small warning, a freebie for their precious-holders.

The demonic bird nibbles under its wing to groom itself before announcing the prizes. ”First precious, restoring you lot! No more hurt. No more sweat. All good!” the normal one bobbed its head excitedly. ”Second precious, BOON! Nice boon. Boon of the smart bird! Oh yes, need to be smart in this cruuuuuuel world!” the way they squawked and chirped almost seemed like they were laughing. ”Third precious is raaaaaare precious! Trinket! Mighty, legendary, worthless? Only your character can tell what! For a few keys, maybe it is worth it?”

What did they choose?



♫


Shortly after their trade, it began to rain. Hard.

Seeking shelter was wise, and the Castle waited for them with open doors. The foyer was as large as one would expect, with multiple halls connected to it, a large wall with the portrait of the last lord of Mandelein, Graf Anselm of House Kapperstel, beamed down at the guests in its well-maintained state, with the symbol of the Pentad hung above the portrait. Not a speck of dust could be found, even on the barely used wooden rails of the twin set of stairs by each side of the massive painting.

The lanterns were all on, but there was no staff. One could explore, and find little more than what Sister Laska or Dorothea had found on their first trip here. It was quiet, just like the outside, and by all accounts, safe. If it weren’t for the sudden tenth presence a few would have immediately sensed. It wasn’t making itself discreet, and if anything it flexed enough energy to stand out. Like a hiker purposely making noise in a predator’s territory to prevent any surprises.

The doors were opened if they weren’t shut already, and then the presence shut them behind him. “Oraff smiles upon you all on this cold night.” announced the familiar voice of Father Jacques Dubosque. With use of blood and binding magic, he conjured a beam of wood to lock up the door. Nothing they couldn’t easily break. It just seemed to be a precaution. “I am sorry for this … Torturous treatment you’ve all endured. It would not have been this way, had I had a true say in it.” he turned to face those in the foyer standing taller than most humans and nearly matching the male Yasoi.

“As you may have deduced, we all are cursed.” he began to walk in a steady gait toward the portrait of the lord. An unperturbed stride with clear purpose, once he got at arms reach of the painting, he reached out, but only to tug on the hourglass shape above it, so he could hold it. “We always were. Since you’ve arrived, since these bandits took us hostage, since the very first Graf, even.” he lamented, his eyes admiring the carpentry that went on this representation of the five. “Cursed and forgotten. But not lost.” parts of the wooden symbol began to thin and eventually break down from aggressive drawing. “Even at its worst, I will not just let these people - my people - be used for the machinations of megalomaniacs or the systems they maintain.” he turned to face them again, his green eyes trained on Laska in particular.

“No. The hungry eyes that leer this town from the outside are not welcome. This curse will stay within. Its existence will be kept a secret.” syphoning energy from the brewing storm outside and the many trees outside the property, Dubosque was drawing, but not very fast. Actually, it was noticeably slow.

“For this reason, I cannot let you leave Mandelein.”

Baudile Dubosque spoke from the stairs, having just arrived but heard just enough. “Jacques …!” he said, prompting his older brother to peer at his direction. “I told you to leave, Baudile. You … Never listen.” the priest reached for the inside of his coat and revealed a small vial containing a transparent fluid. “I’m sorry.”
In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay



“Better Bedding.” Khaliun immediately answered Fat Yuri’s question on where to slip his good word.

“I like your style.” the jolly man winked. Khaliun grinned a wicked smile.. “Don’t do that. Is creepy.” that said, he grinned back, much the same.

Khaliun finished her steak and comendered a local to push her wheelchair. A foreign feeling for this indomitable Strazi to be reliant on others, and one she was sure to repay generously. Her next destination was on the third floor, but first a trip to the marbles. An opportunity caught her eyes, and it came under the form of two temporal marbles bought at half price from “haggling”. That death gaze of her’s had its charms, apparently.

Now they were at the lottery. But Khaliun wasn’t here to gamble.

“The nationals, eh?” the man behind the counter, unimpressed by the schmuck that foolishly tried their luck on such a game. A tax on the poor, she always believed.

“Yes.” the royal guard replied, flat as ever. When given a pack of tickets, she filled them with random numbers, and then made sure to save a final one for last as she gave them all in one go. And with that came the first ball with the winning number: 185.

But Khaliun did not wait for the ball to just roll to the handler’s hand in its own, good time. The moment the ball dropped from the spinning mechanism, the marbles were stirred. Two seconds were reversed, then as she was about to give the tickets, she filled in the winning number, making sure it came first.

The man’s jaw dropped.. “I can’t believe this …” and yet the proof was there. An awkward silence followed, and again Khaliun grinned. It was clear they weren’t too sure what to do when the big wins were achieved. “We, of course, um ... don't keep that much cash onsite to pay out.. We can offer you ₽10,000 for now, the rest to be picked up from the lottery office in twoo weeks' time.”

“Acceptable.”

The money was claimed in big bags that rested upon Khaliun’s thighs, but the Vossoriyan wasn’t done. “Now, information.” she posed a small sack that contained the amount they expected. “What do you have to offer?” there was no beating around the bush with this one.

“Two questions.” a tall, rangy woman with a face mostly masked by a veil, proposed, to which Khaliun tilted her head in muse. “Which shop has the real sword? You know which one.”

“Cutting Edge.”

The girl squinted at the speed of the service. But she took it. “And what are the big rumours going around as of recent?”

“Plenty of stuff swirling. Heard some foreign kids have been getting into trouble lately. Only a matter of time before some of our 'Masked Security' comes down on them if they keep it up. Also heard a couple more Hegelans disappeared, one while exploring that cave across from the monastery. People are saying he visited a crafter down close to the Collapse, name of Vladimir, works a lot with Hegelans. They say he's been keeping a hegelan boy with him. Not sure why. Might wanna check out the collapse too if you can handle a chaos marble. There's bound to be one in there somewhere.”

The corner of Khaliun's lips twitched. "Appreciated." Just as she's about to leave, she turned back, 50 oubles added to the pot. "Is the hammer the real deal?"

The woman behind the counter considered for a moment, eyes narrowing behind the veil. Then, she nodded. "It is."

Khaliun scoffed, not at the info broker, but at the conclusions she made after hearing the answer. She seemed both amused and bewildered by this revelation. It was time to verify this herself.

To the Hammerschlag.

With precision and purpose, she made her way to the fourth floor. It almost seemed premeditated with how everything was unfolding, as she knew exactly where to go. But as she saw the hammer, her widened eyes displayed an awe that was very hard to fake, especially with nobody to really impress. If she had planned something, this wasn’t initially part of the equation.

And it was surprisingly easy to acquire at 40% off. Perhaps too easy. Such thoughts were secondary to the true issue, however: Logistics. How could she carry such a thing?! Especially without magic and chair-bound?

The disabled girl shifted her head around and spotted something.

“Hey. You. Mercenary?” she waved a bag of cash containing 400 oubles, 100 above his price. “I added extra for carrying services. Is this acceptable?”

Fritz Rudolf is happy to help. The grizzled landsknecht bows deeply, chivalrously. "Your wish is my command." He hefts his mighty poleaxe and precedes her.

Khaliun grinned. "Gallant. I like that." and so her group migrated toward Cutting Edge. Though she made sure to make the rounds, coming out with many tonics, including mana shots, to bolster her increasing hill of goods paid for by the State. The Landsknecht was on carrying duty, mostly. And finally, upon missing out on the Orphan, the true Lost Blade from Nikan. What she was to do with it was anyone’s guess. Two mighty weapons taken by this mysterious girl so far.

Few shops were spared from Khaliun’s eyes, although she did not acquire nearly as gluttonously as one would expect. But she did buy. Hunters’ garments, an intimidating pelt, Warhawks, and of course a second set of hands to help her with her goods with the hired Sugawara Yoshinori. With a strong security detail and shopping bags worthy of a spoilt gold digger, Khaliun seemed set to living the good life after this. Inevitably, one of the final items she’d obtain would be the map to supposed chaos marbles. A title that was very on the nose, but given what she had heard, maybe it was worth giving it a shot.

Then she took interest in The Groove.




In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




Assani 16th

Location: ReTan, A now annihilated mountain, Ogauraq Camp
Day of the week: Pandes
Time: Night
Characters: Abdel, Dayanara, Rikard @Force And Fury, Kaureerah, Ingrid @dragonpiece,
Valerian @yoshua171, Trypano @A Lowly Wretch, Yalen @pantothenic,
Wu Long, Golden Monkey, Lucky Dragon

♫


What the hell am I doing here?!

Abdel had entered the cave with his colleagues, but he never truly wanted to. There was a sense of obligation that took over, and he even put up a brave face for his girlfriend when encouraging her to stay behind while he went to war. He regretted it all. The meeting with Brother Ash that turned into a battle with the Black Guard and a demonstration of power from Wu Long should’ve been enough to remind him of his place. He almost missed the popsicle state he had been forced into by Cold Soup when comparing the situation he was now in.

He took a light cut on his cheek from a White Guard he had attempted to control, while the other was successfully robbed of his free will and made to dance around Yalen as a human shield. The cut did not make Abdel panic, but the mild pain made him realize this was indeed all real.

... Daya?

And in just an instant, his mighty Skuggvar, a beast that almost seemed invincible, had been ragdolled effortlessly by a golden blurr neither he or any other teammate was able to keep up with. Paranoid, he pushed his back against the stony wall behind him, terrified of what such a strike would do to his much frailer body. Abdel was sweating profusely, and eventually tears ran through his face.

Mister Escarra! Marci! Jocasta! Help …! I can’t do this!

Abdel was but a boy, far too young and experienced with the world. And now he was made to feel helpless, a mere audience member to the carnage that was going to take place. Waiting for his turn to be made a volunteer to Golden Monkey’s next magical display of sheer brutality.

Just do it already! This is worse than death!

“COME ON!”

But his turn never came. Instead, in the midst of his wallowing in despair, he had actually paid attention to his colleagues. They were still all in the fight despite the odds, with Ingrid in particular concocting something that felt like it could match the obscene energy coming from the speedster. And, as his mind entered this bizarre transe of intense focus, he could finally lead the unfathomably fast target via his Tethered sensing. It was that Yasoi.

I can’t get a lock on but … Daya, I need you!

Focus on his puppet diminished, and instead he just barely managed to keep Golden Monkey in his peripheral vision while he tried to heal his beast. It was just enough to get her to stand again and glare at the assailant. Aided by her master, she sniped the monkey in his rare halt, failing to strike true but offering an opportunity for the others to position the ape just right.

It was all coming together like a perfect equation. The portal, Ingrid’s nuclear preparation, Trypano’s web, Rykard’s tenacity, Yalen’s crowd management. It was going to culminate into a finale the Godly ape couldn’t see. A glimmer of hope shined in Abdel’s eyes, and so he positioned his Skuggvar to ensure this outcome.

Wait … No.

Then he sensed Valerian. The odd addition to their team he had barely seen. A dapper fellow, one that easily impressed a youth like Abdel. But what he sensed was anything but impressive.

No! NO! Stop!

“NO!”

He shouted, but he had no real prowess in sonic magic. What he was good at was Magnetic magic, and he could practically SMELL the copper melt and the magnetic charge weaken to oblivion. The heat was too much and the outcome was nothing good with the trajectory it was going. What was a perfect equation turned into a perfect disaster. Little did he know just how accurate that view was.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

Everything went quiet. All he could see and hear was the tinnitus-inducing screech of Ingrid’s spell. Before any other could, Abdel ran. Where? He didn’t know, but he ran and got closer to whoever he could find. The only way he’d survive is if he was mobile.

“RUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNN!”

Abdel yelled. No need for sonic magic, he strained his vocal cords just for this. Dayanara sensed the signal near-instantly and got to dashing as well.

Portals opened just as the explosion was about to pop. His running paid off and he made it to one before most. And so did the bullrushing Dayanara that likely carried a couple of strays that latched onto her in the last two seconds they had.

Once home free, right at the edge of the portal, Abdel turned.

Move, move!

Abdel didn’t think, he just acted. He had no idea what he was doing, but he created an electro-magnetic barrier to delay the Cataclysm for under half a second. It was, hopefully, enough for any straggler to make it.

He did not hear the explosion. The young Tethered was propelled back just as the portal closed, landing on his back and coughing dust. He was alive, despite his stupid choice to not keep running.

“Damn …”

Abdel sat up, body sore from all the exercise and taking a ton of kinetic energy all of a sudden. His vision was settling. First quads, then triples, then doubles, and finally he could see one of these non-speaking giants. It kneeled before him and offered their hand. Abdel blinked and accepted it. He then looked around and saw more of these big people, in a camp with a few others that seemed to have come out of a portal too.

“Did … They all make it?”

He inquired sheepishly, his mind gravitating to the three girls that mattered most to him.
In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





Assani 16th

Location: Xochiyeiteteo - Sweetwater Farmstead
Day of the week: Pandes
Time: Night
Present: Zarina, Classa @Force and Fury, Zox, Raiders, Tennaxi, Cozesteo, Cuimits, Torrix-Basté, Alqasas.

♫




Classa was tucked in with a sleepy Nibbler to keep her company after a few moments of storytelling and tickles.

Zarina returned to a grisly sight. More death and suffering. The prisoners were terrified for the most part, with the current ‘victims’ screeching for help as Zox immediately intervened to separate the rabid Tennaxi from the others. “What the FUCK just happened?!” the barely armoured Virangish growled, eyes to the golem. Zox focused on keeping the three concerned parties separate but answered her nonetheless. “It was fast. Before I could hear anything, she had killed two.” Zarina clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Shit. They were lip flappers too.” her glare was directed to Tennaxi who had since come to and looked both panicked and confused at what just happened.

Soon came the fear, and then the pleading. Zarina was rightfully suspicious. “You better not be fucking me.” her sharp and armoured finger pointed at the legless girl. The three were separated and their arms bound while the two bodies were dumped outside for the time being.With Tennaxi still overwhelmed by what happened, one of the assaulted was approached first. One known as Cuimits. “As you may have deduced, Cazenax often have names with meaning. Unlike us.” stated Zox flatly. “This one means Nine-fingers.” Zarina, as if on cue, paid attention to the recently bound hands. “Huh. From some fancy name like Midnight Moon to Missing-Finger-Joe. ” she chuckled, already calmed now that order had been restored. “Names are earned in Cazenax society. There can be a story behind his missing finger. Or simply how he is known. I could not say.”

Tennaxi was isolated while Cozesteo was made to wait with the others. Cuimits, one Zarina had identified as having a head over his shoulders, was her first target.

Zarina pulled a chair, sat in reverse and crossed her arms over the seat whilst Cuimits sat on the floor, back against a wall. Zox was the translator. “Let’s start simple, then. Who sent you?” and then it just became a staring competition. So she repeated herself. “I only took orders. My lieutenant is dead.” translated Zox in a similar, flat tone as Cuimits. There was evidently something about this one that kept Zarina’s attention. The way the others looked at him and his composure reeked of unspoken authority, like a high ranking member of a mob that dressed like any other local.

“Why’d you do it, then?”

“Money.”

“Why did she want to kill you?”

“To silence us, maybe. We got captured after all.”

“Was it one of those elites that sent you?” Zox made sure to use the appropriate terminology to qualify who she was talking about.

“He never met the one that paid. It went through the boss.”

“And so who’s the boss?”

Zox paused as he heard the answer. “I have killed him, it seems.” he sighed.

For a moment, Zarina had an idea to turn up the heat. Do something a little extreme to get this one’s lips to flap. But the corner of her eye caught something: Tennaxi. She gestured for Cuimits to be put aside, for now, and bring in the calmed Tennaxi. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Lasto! Lasto …” Tennaxi lowered her head, only for her to see the grim reality of her mangled body. She shielded her eyes briefly before looking up at Zazzy. “I don’t know what happened, she says.” Zox shuffled a bit in his corner, his stoney gaze shifting between the prisoners. Tennaxi paused before being hit by a moment of clarity, index finger raised. But just before she could speak, Cozesteo shouted something she didn’t understand with Cuimits adding to it.

“Shut up.” Zarina said, but they continued. “I said, shut UP.” they both felt immense pressure applied above them, forcing their cheeks to hit the flooring. Cozesteo was quick to apologize the same way Tennaxi would, but Cuimits showed continuous defiance. The rest of the captives began to panic, to which Zarina was sensitive enough to cease her show of force, and in turn the tension of the air faded. Except of course for Cuimits’ continued ranting. As a result, Zox intervened with his intimidating form and just taped his mouth shut with some conjured leather. Again, the group was frightened, but the golem’s imposing size was enough to keep them in order. With peace returned, the interrogation could continue.

The timid Tennaxi, upon seeing Cuimits bound up tight, felt bold enough to speak. “She says she felt like she ‘lost her body’, and was all numb.” Zarina blinked and then squinted. “Like her body had a mind of its own?” to which Tennaxi nodded once the sentence was translated. Zarina drummed her fingers over the wooden seat. “It could be a spell. It could also be bullshit.” Zarina bit her uncovered thumb’s nail as she pondered, eyes locked to Tennaxi’s. She wanted to believe this girl was honest, but she had indeed killed two.

There wasn’t much to get from Tennaxi that wasn’t already said, and so the interrogator moved on. Her attention drifted toward Cuimits again, bound and gagged with consistent defiance in his eyes. But then there was the sidekick, Cozesteo. Clearly of lesser intelligence and standing. Quite bulky too. “What’s his name?” to which Zox replied with a slightly amused voice, as if he was in synch with Zarina’s observation. “Cozesteo. Big Rock.” the corner of Zaz’s lip twitched. It was the rock’s turn in the spotlight.

“Who sent you here?”

“‘Dunno’, as he would say. He says for money.” Zox internally frowned. “The exact same formulation the other used.” to which Zarina scoffed. “Is that so?” Her attention was entirely on the Big Rock. “Who’s your boss?” and for a split second, Cozesteo peered over at Cuimits, only to then shift his eyes about to lock them onto Zox, acting as if he was the bigger boulder among the two. Unfortunately for him, Zarina caught that and shot a knowing glance at Cuimits. “Potojax.” he said before cackling like a buffoon. A laughter that slowly degenerated into awkward titters as nobody laughed.

What followed were a series of awkward but ultimately meaningless questions, poking the man’s daily life and intentions. The more she went, the more it became clear this robust look of his was a façade. And the more his slipped looks toward his true boss, Cuimits. Realizing what was going on, a very brief sonic bubble was formed that enveloped Zox too.

“Is this man your boss?”

Cozesteo, taken aback by the sudden use of magic, just shot a confused look at Zarina.

“Tell me now. Is he your boss? Did he have something to do with the murders?”

A moment of hesitation took Cozesteo. But then he chuckled, again looking at his superior to feel emboldened.

“He says you must not be very smart. He’s his own boss and gets paid.” he didn’t bother to translate the ‘poxa’ in there.

Zarina’s arm unnaturally extended to seize the Cazenax’s throat. Her platinum hand was suddenly huge and could easily pluck the smaller being’s head. “I don’t honestly know or truly care about the bullshit behind all of this.” she snarled, the sound-bubble pointless in hiding her intentions. “You’ve hurt people that matter to me. You tried to kill some kid because you hate demons or whatever. And I’ve given you a second chance. I can easily take it away.” it’d be so easy, easier than pulling a trigger. That draconic shield-arm was so big and the claws so sharp. It’d be like passing a hot knife into a stick of butter.

“Zarina.” a concerned Zox felt the need to speak up, and the audience was growing agitated once more. “Please.” the golem reached for the girl’s shoulder. After a moment, she calmed down, but it had worked in getting Cozesteo to whisper something. “Zé …” he said. “They’re all afraid of him. You can see why.” Zox added, looking at the pool of dried blood at the corner.

Zarina sighed, lowered the barrier and shot a menacing look at Cuimits. The head of the troupe immediately her numb and his chin hit his chest. He was asleep after a strong dose of chemical magic was applied. But with one potential problem gone, a new one arose. The prisoners were terrified at this point and just about ready to explode in their foreign ramblings. The Virangish girl opted to not use force this time, raising her hands as a sign of peace while speaking pacifying words they did not understand. Zox, being the terrifying monster that killed many of their peers, did little to help too as intimidation wasn’t going to cut it after what had happened.

Just as catastrophe was about to strike, Tennaxi mustered the courage to speak now that Cuimits was unconscious. “Zag. Zag!” she pleaded to her fellow Cazenax. A display of good faith was made, Tennaxi showed her desire to help despite the suspicions around her. Given that it actually worked, Zarina was more inclined to believe her. A second female Cazenax, Torrix-Basté, added to Tennaxi’s efforts and provided testimony of the events that unfolded, making external magical influence the likely culprit here.

With peace restored in a fragile state, she continued her interrogation with Cozesteo.

“He says that for the record, he has nothing against demons and even owns a few.” Zox translated the words of Big Rock, still rattled by the recent threats but more willing to talk now that Cuimits was out. “The king’s changes aren't good for them. They’ll lose their sense of purpose. Being entirely dependent on the Vozas has more than just the obvious risks.”

“Risks, but you’ve been using this for … A long time I presume? Why are you worried about risks?”

Cozesteo looked to Zox, and then to Zarina before sarcastically cackling. “They want to have more lax admission standards for the Vo-Wola. The people who make use of the Vozas. He says it is insanity to be this careless with the most dangerous thing in the world.”

“Okay, but what does this have to do with them raiding this place?”

Torrix-Basté interjected upon hearing this. “She suggests that it might have something to do with land speculation following King Stazen’s policies.” to which Zarina shrugged. “For just a quick buck? Really? And going as far as killing your own? So who exactly sent them?”

Torrix-Basté was unable to say, as she only did it for the money and a general dislike for demons. Cozesteo, on the other hand, had more to say. He needed a little more squeezing, but a light bit of internal chemical did the trick. “There was a meeting with an intermediary that referred to their client as female. Apparently this was done to ‘help a friend’, and that the actual motives are a mystery to him.” Zarina sat back on her chair, arms crossed and attentive. “He thinks that the people in the Batarsca, the elites in a way, wanted to acquire this land expecting King Stazen’s policies to suddenly change, like what she said, but he believes an assassination attempt will be the cause and it may have already happened. The sweetwater guild in particular was keen on dealing with this land due to it remaining independent.”

“That would explain why they’d want to keep a lid on things.” she spoke to Zox, her platinum claw scratching her chin. “Sweetwater guild, jaded elites and a reformist King, it sounds like we’ve stumbled into a web of power plays and we’ve just caused a very unexpected mess.” so far Zarina didn’t seem too alarmed, and she was left to wonder what were truly the stakes here. There was a reason Upta and the Silent Ranger had dispatched them, and the only conclusion she could make was an extreme case with the Vozas.Was Stazen’s elimination a good or bad thing? It all hinged on this, she just knew it.

Tennaxi was brought back to the spotlight with Cozesteo left to breathe in his own corner. Zarina didn’t have to ask anything, she just began to talk. “She doesn’t know that much more, she says. But she’d be happy to serve as a guide at the city, but she’d need to be mounted.” Zarina, Zox and Tennaxi all looked at the poor Cazenax’s stumps. The girl still hadn’t fully registered how her life was going to drastically change. But with this grim reality made real and recalling Classa’s words, Tennaxi had something of an epiphany. “She’s realized that Samaxi, Mr. Jascuan’s daughter, is Potés-Palix. And- …” Zox just stopped talking and ‘glared’ at the legless girl. “What is it?” Zarina dryly inquired, smelling something was off and deeply concerned considering her friends had gone to search for that individual. “It’s mere speculation. But … She suggests that the timing of the raid looked to have been done in accordance to Maxi’s absence. They did not expect more than just me to protect the stead.”

Zarina clenched her jaw. A woman had hired these goons via an intermediary. Samaxi’s absence was conspicuously timed with the raid’s. There’s a lot of money and political capital involved. All surrounding the Vozas, or better known as the wicked Void that had nearly taken three close to her. The Virangish rider had gone from mildly concerned for an inquest she did not grasp the importance of beyond finding a culprit, to realising the potential gravity of it all.

Cozesteo was brought back in. Forceful but non-physical, she asked plainly. “How do I get this asshole to talk? I’m out of patience.” to which the Cazenax continuously shook his head and insisted he didn’t know. Zarina didn’t have time for this. A bag of a few magi was tossed to his lap - currency that wasn’t common but had its use in the supply wagon from Nashibansek. With such a handsome reward, the Big Rock could put his conscience away for a brief moment.

“Zarina. Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Zox, concerned by what he had heard, wished this could end already.

“Just say it. We can’t find the head of this serpent without this guy’s cooperation.” she growled whilst glaring at the still slumbering Cuimits. The other Cazenax looked concerned as well, shooting expectant looks at Zarina. Was she going to actually do this?

“He has a family that lives west of town, at a place called The Dive. It’s … a red domed residence occupying a gap in the hoodoos.” then everything got quiet.

Zarina just nodded before stepping out.

She opened her right, metal palm. The flow of time became tangible to her as she began to draw from it. And then, once imbuing her claws with the abstract energy she was far from mastering, she dug them into the air before her and dragged her hand downward. A forcefully opened a tear into time and space and created a portal in a cruder manner than most did.

Zox stepped out, and so did Tennaxi. Both would see the magnificence that was Alqasas stepping out of the rift and into a land not too different from where her mother had laid her. The reticulated and pearlescent Alpha Froabas sniffed about, recognizing Zarina and unknown parties. Naturally, she inhaled to prepare a loud and domineering howl. Quickly, the beastmaster created an improvised sonic bubble, only for it to partially succeed. The earth-shaking scream was heard by all the Cazenax, perishing all notions of trying a breakout at this time.

“Be quiet.” the strict mother ordered before flicking the mighty beast’s snout. It recoiled, growled and then sniffed some more. “It’s late here, as you can see.” she clearly spoke to the beast, and reached out to caress that previously assaulted snout. “I missed you too.” the animal shot her a challenging stare, but was otherwise docile.

“I’m not gonna threaten some asshole’s family. I'll get another lead.” she reassured, head turned as she still faced her dragon. “You.” she turned and pointed toward Tannaxi. “You wanted to be a guide, right?”

“I’m going to visit that guild. Can I expect good demons like you to translate? Or must I make preparations? I’d bring you, but …” she looked to her dragon, still not fully mature, and then to the stead where Classa slumbered. “You’ve got more important things to care for. Watch over Riesco for me, yeah?”
In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Present: Ashon’amar’loiyang @Ti, Cal’tuuro’jaros @Suicharte, Casii’fyret’alan @Pirouette, Dorothea Hohnstein @Jasbraq, “Ismet’ych’lahiin’dichora” @Force and Fury, Kaspar Elstrøm von Wentoft @Wolfieh, Edyta Łaska, Manfred Hohenfelter, Qasem Laghmani, Ymiico’luun’yoru [@Salsa Verde], Lycans, Father Jacques Dubosque, Brother Baudile Dubosque, Viktor Strauss, Cristophe Wiliken, Margot, the Highwaymen





“I did not want to interrupt.”

Viktor was sitting on one of the few remaining pews that hadn’t been destroyed during the battle. He had been fully concealed through expert use of his magusjaeger skills and had no trouble duping an otherwise quite observant Baudile. “And I was of the mind that all were welcome in the house of the Pentad, Herr Dubosque.” he said with a smug tone as he pushed himself up to his feet.

“Not willing carriers of bad omens, Viktor.” dryly replied the priest as he found support on the still intact tabernacle. “Words hurt, Jacques.” continued Viktor as he began to pace before the altar, arms crossed. “And you know I’m here to help. So far, things have been under control, haven’t th-”

“Stop it. Just, stop it.” Dubosque desperately searched for a place to sit, but he could only stand with growing discomfort. “All these deaths, Viktor. I’m not going to continue with this farce. I’ve kept my end of the deal, but where is your promise? A few kids are too much for you, Strauss?” the injured man, still wearing his loose nightly outfit, glared daggers at the blonde soldier. “I should do what I should’ve done months ago with you.”

“Kill me?” asked Viktor, halting his pace and staring up at the man that had threatened him. “You know how that ends, Jacques. Your people won’t care - they never did. And those kids? Neither you nor I can wrangle them away from this.” he took a couple of steps to the altar, and were mere feet away from the older man of similar stature. “If you and the people of this town are to survive this storm, something must be done.” he shot a knowing look at the priest, and the implication was thoroughly understood. Jacques scowled.

“How long will this continue, Viktor? How many have to die for … This?” Dubosque exhaled from his nose and continued before an answer could be provided. “No. No more. I will not take more innocent lives. By Oraff, I will no longer stand for this impossible choice that leads only to death. I’m done!” the man shoved the tabernacle with enough might to tip it over. It didn’t break.

Viktor arched an eyebrow. “You’re not done.” he dismissed Dubosque as if his resolve was a mere temper tantrum. “You’ve got nobody, Jacques. Your Church doesn’t care. Your country doesn’t care. Your own GODS do not care.” he stated as he reached down for the fallen golden edifice and set it back on its pedestal and wiped some accumulated dust. “Because you, as is this whole town, are meaningless to grander schemes. You’re nothing. Just as I am. What are you next to a whole civilization that they’ve gradually burned down?” Dubosque went silent, again pained and seeking the comfort of sitting down, but the closest pew was so far …

“I promise you this, however.” Viktor pushed his forearm over one of the wooden beams and leaned close to the tired Dubosque with his back against the wall. “Get through these final nights. Take care of these kids. And Mandelein will fade to obscurity as it has for fifty years.” he reached out to the priest’s shoulder and squeezed. “That is your reward for what your people had to endure. It’s almost over, Jacques.”

Jacques Dubosque looked at the hand that touched him. He wanted to react - to lash out. But he lacked the strength to even raise his voice. And for the sake of those he protected, he did not utter a single truthful word in his mind. He merely shot a scornful glare at Viktor, to which the latter scoffed and backed up. “Tomorrow night, do it.” he ordered as half his body began to fade. “I will be reclaiming some goods. Wrangle the rest to make this clean. I’ll be sure to clean up on my end too.” and then he was gone.





♫


It took a few hours to gather supplies, heal the wounded and gather their bearings for the group to finally opt to just leave the smuggler camp. Qasem, much to his dismay, could not find an opening without being surrounded by confused but defensive allies of the crown-wearing witch. He would have to find another way, but time was running short for him as he felt his arm pulsate even more and hiding it was becoming impossible, even for a seasoned chemical mage like him.

With Hunds awake, they could begin their trek through the forest again. Tranquil and without disturbance, there was little chance of a wild animal attack. Although …

”Sqwaaaak! It is time! Time of the night!” rang a red bird perched on a branch with a demonic copy of itself by its side. ”Time to die! No more precious!” the demonic one mocked the group. There was no overt hostility, not even an ounce of energy drawn nor its massive flock nearby. ”But if you don’t die.” said one. ”Then mayhaps one precious can be found before the big one eats you!” uttered the other. ”The prison key! Super precious! Very old! Key, key!” they both bobbed their heads in excitement. ”Precious keys, for a precious reward!” then they began to groom one-another, and eventually faded through the stream of time and space.

By the late hours of Dami, they would reach Mandelein.



Taleja saw it before anyone else: Four Moons were full, shining bright through the crevices of the dark clouds. It was all coming together, from her role in all of this to the small piece of information Cal had blurted out. And the worst case scenario was confirmed when her drawing range flared with massive heat signatures all of a sudden. For the first time, the Kressian scholar felt backed into a corner. Then came the moans of pain. They were everywhere!

The group returning from the raid had entered the town from the East, and until then nothing had been too suspicious beyond things being a little too quiet. That was until Hunds started to cough incessantly, and so did two of the highwaymen. Some squirmed on the ground, while one held his throat as if he was choking on something. Then came the bone cracking, followed by the sound of skin and ligaments tearing. “Erin!” yelled Cristophe right before the woman smacked him away with immense might, further into the forest.

All three had turned relatively quickly into the same beasts they had fought the day prior. All with the same, feral eyes that only saw humans as enemies and meals.

Qasem, too, felt an intense pain within. But he did not turn. He began breathing rapidly, his skin stretching and his bones swelling in an attempt to take a new form. A clenched fist would break the miniscule flask of plushtail oil that had been recently emptied. Such a small amount was only going to briefly delay the inevitable, but that was all he needed. In the midst of the thrashing from the other three beasts, Qasem seized the opportunity: A still weakened Dory had her thigh slashed with a dagger, exposing her to a toxin that acted very quickly and made her go numb. With his increased strength, the Darhannic envoy caught her before she could fall and made good use of his superhuman strength to jump out of the way. “I’m sorry.” he said as he performed his treason, with Manfred not too far and capable of hearing his shame.

The kidnapper pushed to go deeper into the forest, where a Hunting Lodge was said to be. As others sought to pursue, the grim reality of what was truly happening became apparent. Converging toward them, from every direction including the forest itself, were burning hot masses that were unmistakably wildbloods. It wasn’t just two dozens scattered around, however, but hundreds. They almost looked coordinated in their attack, quickly blocking off an easy passage to tail Qasem with only a couple capable of closing the gap before becoming easily flanked meals.

From the Forest (East), West and South they were getting boxed in. Almost like they were coordinated. This left only Northbound, through the streets that led to the Square. They had to be quick, these creatures were everywhere, but mostly concentrated toward the middle of town, slightly South of the actual Square (that wasn’t the genuine centre). If one were to sense, they could detect massive energy flares, but walls of transformed townsfolk were going to be a problem. They had to keep moving, lest they get swarmed from all sides.



Ymiico only caught the vaguest glimpse of her attacker. A man that hadn’t even touched her and yet put her out like she was nothing. She was, after all, at her most vulnerable. But that face, she recognized it. She had seen it many times, way back at her first year in Ersand’Enise. The betrayer, Viktor.

She awoke not in a cell, but in the abandoned tavern that the Pentad and Hexaic collaboration took place, right under the bar and both pairs of limbs bound by rope. It was already late at night and she still felt numb from the dose of magic she had been shot with. Wiggling out of the bindings was no issue for a shinobi, even less one that felt her power swell considerably with every passing moment. There were constant shuffling noises behind the walls.

Once on her feet, the Nikanese Yasoi could begin to focus on her surroundings and sense more accurately. She met quite the sensory overload. Massive balls of heat surrounded her. The noises persisted. No, they got louder and they came from all over just like the heat signatures. Feeling boxed in, she opened the door leading out of the tavern, only to witness what can only be described as Hell on Sipenta. Wildbloods much like the ones she had fought the other day, were running rampant. Structures were severely damaged, beasts hopped onto roofs and some began to develop the ability to unleash flames, although they were considerate of their environment in that regard, strangely enough.

Before long, they caught her scent, with the tavern’s roof giving in to the weight of three hirsute creatures eager for Yasoi flesh. But they were ignorant to the power she shared with them - a power given by the moons. Ymiico wasn’t trapped with them, they were trapped with Ymiico.

Thus began Ymiico’s stand, surrounded by over three hundred beasts.



“Heh, easy. E - Z, easy.”

Margot stared at her winnings for a good ten minutes in one of her cave-like hideouts. She really was just looking at the pile and just triumphantly stood before it. “Turin, you dumbest bitch.” she spat by the pile. “Should having not fucked with them like Margot said.” she scoffed.

Schleim was equally obsessed over the pristine Magi that had been acquired. Then, it looked at Margot.

“What? No regrets.” she answered with a narrowed gaze. “Don’t care no more.” but Schliem continued to stare, while Tock arrived at the hideout to demand food. “No yums, only cashish.” she then shot the same look toward the Echobird. “Stop. Not Margot’s problem herein again.”

Both Schleim and Tock just stared with their heads tilting in synch. “Margot tried! And we nearly unalived! Ownselves can be helped alone.” she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Margot’s fault? What debt?! Tch!” the pile of money was wrapped back into the leather bag and stashed deep into her hideout. “Magot did not gift the poison to water hole …” she grumbled. “But Margot did helpmuch Turin the bitch, and the fucking Ghost.” she recalled that last one in particular, the only reason she was caught and locked up. “You’re right, Schleim. It is a littlelike Margot’s fault it’s herein happen.” she scratched her neck and looked toward the town from outside her cliffside hideout. “And that asshole need to get what’s comin’ to him.”



“Move.” ordered Taleja to Cal as she seized one of her concoctions from her bag. The two had been spared the worst of the beasts as they retreated back into the Trade Guild, however the young researcher found her opportunity when her group of peers was nearing their position. They were intercepted by a row of beasts that had emerged from the various businesses and homes nearby, with quite a few bursting out of the inn, and were going to block off the group with sheer numbers. The concoction, upon impact, unleashed a discombobulating explosion and a foul gas that struck the enhanced olfactory sense of the beasts. “We need to get to higher ground! They’re everywhere and too many. We need somewhere defensible.”

Indeed, the whole town had seemingly turned and were aggressively seeking out humans while having formed an unusually sophisticated perimeter in the forest. Escape wasn’t going to be easy. Bursting from the Tapisserie business were two beasts, one particularly keen on mauling Kaspar with minimal regard for its safety, while the other acting more like the fold and sought to trail and surround the group.

And as they continued North, the elevated Church that wasn’t too far from the Square. They were losing distance between themselves and the beasts, with many stalking the group from the roofs, and strays standing in their paths. There weren’t that many at the Church, however, with the gate open and swinging as if it had been used very recently.

“Hey!” the doors of the Holy edifice opened to show a single, Stresian monk waving at them. “Over here!”



The First Hour of Assani 21st

0 Days Remain




In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





♫


Qadira arrived in Chuanwei with the rest of the group. She could sense the imminent threat approaching, her snout flaring at the smell of smoke and gunpowder. The Nikanese vessel took notice of them as well and fired barrages of projectiles over the coast and the settlement. Qadira stood ready, blubber giggling and tail beating the ground.

In the face of imminent peril, I beseech you, dear frail mortals, to release the tendrils of fear that seek to constrict your hearts. Be comforted, for I shall rise as your guardian, steadfast and resolute, warding off the impending onslaught launched by this vessel. Fear not, for I shall muster my formidable might and tenacity to repulse the audacious assault, ensuring your safety amidst this turbulent encounter. Trust in my unwavering resolve, and witness as I unleash my unwavering power to thwart this boat's belligerent advance, shielding you from harm's insidious grasp.

The beast gurgled and stomped its thick feet onto the dry dirt. Where many humans had failed to deflect the incoming projectiles, Qadira had repulsed all those in her vicinity with aggressive drawing and swift smacks of her tail. Her black, beady eyes glared at the incoming ship, her claws dragging against the ground like an angry bull’s hooves.

Then, the beast felt a warmth within - a great strength surged through her! The doings of a human named Yalen.

In the presence of your esteemed wisdom and benevolence, oh revered monk, I humbly offer my profound appreciation for the precious boon you have bestowed upon me. With deep gratitude, I pledge to wield this bestowed gift as a formidable weapon against the forces that stand in opposition to our noble cause. Rest assured, dear clergyman, that I shall strive unwaveringly to emerge victorious in our shared struggle against our adversaries.

When the largest cannon fired, Qadira syphoned the entirety of the projectile and fired back with an even larger blast mixed with flammable mucus to accelerate a chain reaction. The boat was struck, but did not fall. Not until Zhao’s cataclysmic charged attack after a second rain of projectiles. Many were knocked out by the blast, but neither Maura nor Qadira were out of it.

As the olfactory senses awaken within me, permeating my very being, I am graced with the unmistakable fragrance that belongs solely to my beloved sister. Forsooth! In this pivotal moment, I implore you, immobile human, to muster your courage and embark upon a swift and resolute advance, for the time has come to surge forth with unwavering determination in pursuit of our shared objective with alacrity.

Qadira unleashed a loud sound that nearly came off as a ‘moo’ and dashed into the ruins of the settlement with Maura on her back. An entity attempted to get in their way, but Maura picked up on the interference and guided Qadira appropriately. They would eventually arrive at an impasse: A human with a delicious fish-person. Qadira growled at the woman.

In the depths of my innermost sentiments, I find myself harbouring a profound aversion towards the individual in question, for their presence evokes within me a palpable sense of disfavour and discontent.

The talks between Maura and the Nikanese envoy didn’t work out, and conflict erupted with the unconscious Kaureerah freed. There were also Dayanara and Jiang. But in order to save them, this interloper had to be dealt with. Qadira was not easy to control and would find herself particularly aggressive toward the woman, frequently charging at her, and yet there was another presence that consistently interfered and threatened Kaureerah in particular. Qadira unleashed a massive roar, prompting Dayanara’s slow awakening.

Hark! In order to staunch the insidious advance of this enigmatic and imperceptible force that has left us consistently flummoxed, it is imperative that we remain steadfastly resolute in our collective endeavour, persistently launching a relentless series of attacks with unwavering determination and unyielding resolve!

With the help of a hidden Xiualan and Dayanara, the group of four were able to not only wound the assailant but also repulse her until the appearance of a strange individual. One that deleted the woman entirely. Qadira flinched, and curiously sniffed about. But the man was swiftly gone, leaving them with … A happy ending? Her attention was immediately on the drops of blood left by the supposedly dead Nikanese.

Following the act of savouring the flavours bestowed upon me by indulging in the gustatory delights of this culinary experience, I shall proceed to convey my deep-seated appreciation through a lighthearted gesture of affection, namely by engaging in the act of playfully caressing my limber muscle specialised in gustatory functions against the personification of piscine characteristics, thereby giving rise to a whimsical and comical interlude wherein the very entity that initially posed as a potential menace now assumes the role of an unexpected companion, epitomising the ironic twist that has manifested within this unique and memorable juncture.

Qadira licked Kaureerah and let out happy little grunts. Although the atmosphere in the air wasn’t perfect. A confrontation between Zhao and Maura occurred, tackling the subject of Xiulan. Qadira was still Maura’s ride, and kept on uttering grunts that could easily be seen as threatening to others.

My fellow chaps of good breeding and social stature, pray tell, how fare thee in the realm of existence?

The moment was cut short when a witch appeared among them, along with a slow and peculiar figure that remained silent. Qadira perked up, her body language suggesting she wasn’t all too comfortable with this person. She felt Abdel hand by her ear. Her eyes briefly peered at his direction.

In light of the bond that intertwines us within the realm of instruction and guidance, I feel compelled to impart upon you a word of caution, dear fatherly figure, urging you to exercise utmost vigilance and prudence in your dealings with this mysterious and enigmatic figure, who assumes the guise of a witch. Given the circumstances that currently envelop us, with an awareness of the intricacies and potential challenges that lie ahead, it is imperative that we engage in a meticulous and thorough process of thoughtful readiness, leaving no stone unturned, as we lay the groundwork for our forthcoming endeavours with utmost precision and careful consideration.

She burped.
In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





Assani 15th

Location: Xochiyeiteteo
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: Day
Present: Zarina, Ayla @Ti, Classa @Force and Fury, Tku @dragonpiece,
Riesco, Zox, Raiders, Demons, Yolk Demon, The Olive Tree and Dragon.

♫


The heat of battle was something Zarina had almost forgotten and a taste she never wished to genuinely acquire. Despite being prepared - some would even say over prepared - it did not make the ordeal any more appealing or easy. But she accepted this mission knowing full-well the inevitabilities it engendered. And so she charged in with her trusted steed, circling the horde of enemies with Classa not too far behind and her allies riding the Zox.

Fucking demons. Fucking Void-lovers.

Facial features twitched under her platinum helm. Malefic beings from another realm had been called upon to bolster the raider forces, and one had taken particular interest to her.

I am so sick of these foggy shitters.

But try as she might, her armour and raw might did little to repulse the corrosive blob of intangible darkness. It burned so much, invoking furies that only emerged after incredibly acute pains - like stubbing one’s toe. Taken by frustration over her situation and the pain, Zarina acted out in pure impulse. Her dragonhead greatshield, an item she had used to protect, opened its wicked maw to reveal a small cannon.

Now you burn.

There was a moment of hesitation. The remorseful Zarina that knew she was going to hate this tried to stop her. Had it just been the burns, she’d have held back. But there was more to it - there was fear too. And fear made people do many things. The flames were vomited out on a group of raiders, scorching at least two and injuring two more. The screams and the smell were atrocious, but she did not linger. There were demons and over fifty attackers.

The battle raged on with Zox clearing many of the pack. Tku eventually became the author of the mist’s second demise, Classa covered her new friend Riesco, and Ayla neutered the speed demon. They were going to win this if they held strong. The platinum warrior had to ensure the titan did not fall, and she did just that as the team’s immovable temporal shield.



Then came the finale. A duet with Ayla and the birth of a shining God-like giant. The enemies knew nothing but terror at their end, and the final titanesque demon met its match with the golem of pristine metal. They had won, and their first prize was a massive Ayla.

“We’ll need to revisit living arrangements, Ayla.”

Although she spoke, there was little chance the giantess could hear Zarina without some sort of sonic enhancement. There was one thing missing. Zarina, realising there was still a loose end, approached the familiar egg-entity she had seen once before.

It was not easy to find, for the conflict seemed to have buried it. Then, from within the shifting sands, came a faint glow, and Zarina dug. The glow expanded and then, bursting from the ground, came a glowing millennium egg. It shot into the sky and hovered there, a halo about its form, face beatific and arms outstretched.

A PRIMORDIAL EGG had ascended.

"An angelic Egg? It is a good Egg" Tku decided to move focus onto it.

“A Promordial egg, destined to be eaten.” Zazzy added.

The egg turned its magnificent head and blinked. "You have my neverending gratitude for aiding me in my ascension. I was summoned by wicked people, my chance at redemption tarnished from the start, but you fought with honour and decency and I am born anew in the light of the Pentad."

Zarina blushed in awe. So majestic.

Tku was in awe. He was so proud to have helped.

Its great white wings flapped softly under the burning desert sun, casting a vast and peaceful shadow. Brilliant pure white feathers drifted and fluttered down from above.

The PRIMORDIAL EGG smiled.

"Mister Egg, are you able to help my friend Zox?" Tku asked, unsure of the nature of the egg.

"It is already done." It... winked. "Enjoy six more hours as titans. Then, you shall both be returned." It clasped its hands before itself.

"And now I must go," said the egg, "but I first bestow upon you these gifts as a token of my gratitude." Three glowing black and green orbs - egg-shaped - appeared before the angelic being, and they wafted slowly down towards the sand, where they lay, warm and waiting.

One, however, landed elsewhere, coming to rest atop the great olive tree.

The tree pulsed. The egg disappeared.

arina nodded sagely at the egg. No more words needed to be said. This was a good ending.

The armoured girl approached the landing site of one of the eggs.

In his head, Tku heard a voice.

"Step forward, child," said the mystical tree of the desert.

In the distance came the echo of hooves and, with them, a dust trail.

"Eat of my fruit and you shall be nourished."

Classa could feel its words as well. "You too, young one."

Classa looked up at Zarina and leaned in. "But I don't really like olives..." she whined, scrunching up her face. "Do I gotta?"

Zarina cackled at that answer. Oh kids. “It's a special olive.” she said before tapping the centaur's back. “Only the best of us can even get a lick.”

From within the great tree's branches came a mist, in the midst of the desert, and they were filled with gentle clouds and a soft light. A small serpentine dragon rested within it contentedly, eyes half-closed. Then, in Tku's mind: "What do you wish for?" Classa trotted up and took an olive as well.

Riesco also approached. His simple horse mind was attracted to the tree for some reason. Zarina just watched him do so. He leaned toward Classa, lips flapping. Ready to suck in her winnings.

Classa held it out in her hand, looking at it and working up the courage.

Frightened by the horse coming up to take her prize, the girl swallowed it. She, too, heard what Tku had moments earlier. Riesco began to nod heavily, frustrated but excited!

"I wish..." The girl trailed off, suddenly and perhaps for the first time, lost for words. She regarded Zox, then Tku, and then the giant Ayla. Last, she looked to Zarina. "I wish to... be free." She paused. "And the others like me: them too."

Classa took a few steps back toward the others. "So is this like a trick question or something?" she asked, "'cause I'm totally just gonna ask the tree to grant it."

Zarina did not know what to feel. Relief? Her job felt just a tad easier now. But, without Zox or Classa, this farm would have been good as gone, and Jascuan very dead. She exhaled from her nose, and then chuckled. “No trick. If that's what you really want, then so be it. No wrong answer, Classa.”

Classa stepped forward. "Are you a tree or a dragon?" she asked with childlike curiosity. The dragon's eyes slid open and it seemed to smile, floating languidly through the air as it descended, looping and twirling about her shoulders. "Why can I not be both?" It chuckled and the tree's leaves seemed to tremble.

lassa's face scrunched up inquisitively. "How can you be a tree and a dragon?" She pawed at the ground. "Sounds like something Mr. Jascuan would say when he's trying to sound all wise and stuff."

The dragon stilled and tilted its head. Then, there was a small surge of energy of a type that none of them had felt before and the child's eyes widened. "Ooooohhh," she exclaimed, nodding knowingly after a moment. "I get it!" She paused to consider, sticking a lock of hair in the corner of her mouth and nibbling on it. "I think I actually undewstand a lot of things now. Give us what we need and we will free ourselves." She looked up and smiled uncertainly.

Classa stamped her feet happily. Nobody was quite sure what she'd received, but she seemed to know. The little girl twisted and cracked a shit-eating grin. "Wait 'til you see what I got!" she boasted. Then, momentarily, she turned back to face the tree and bowed her head. "Thank you Mr. Dragon-Tree."

With that, the dragon settled back upon the branches and the rolling mists took it away from that place. The tree stood still and silent in the desert.

Then, it crackled and bent. Its branches groaned. Its fruits withered.

The ground seemed to open and it disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place.

A single millennium egg sat there in the sand. The other was in Zarina's hand.

Classa perked up. "Oh, I want it!" she exclaimed, hurrying forward. Then, she looked up at the massive figure of Zox. "So I can save it for him, of course." She blinked, smiled, and looked up, holding her hands out towards Tku.
In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay




Assani 17th

Location: Wánggǎng, ReTan
Day of the week: Pandes
Time: Day
Characters: Ming, Qadira, Abdel, The Traveller @Force And Fury

♫




Ming and Abdel were the pair sent to follow-up with one of the trails captured by Qadira the Skuggvar, and brought her along too. By having such an imposing beast in their disposition, the group thought it best that the trio would go to the more back alley location they had sniffed out. It was a warehouse of sorts, near the Foreign Quarter, with a few other larger buildings neighbouring it.

A garage for older carriages was selected to stake out the place. Two heads popped out of the wooden railing of the roof, with Qadira curiously pushing on her hind legs to get a look as well, nearly breaking the structure! Luckily Abdel had a hold of her. Ming could count four guards from sight, and the young Tethered could confirm it with his sensory capabilities.

“We must go quiet. We gain nothing from raising alarms everywhere and cause more collateral damage.” said Ming, ever the steadfast worker.

“We can try to sneak, but that’ll be hard with Qadira.” Abdel looked at his Skuggvar. “I don’t want to leave her unattended either. Maybe we knock one out?”

Qadira grunted.

“The beast is big.” Ming shook his head. “It is too dangerous. I will go in, and you will cover me. Understood?”

Abdel wanted to say something. He really wanted to prove his worth and actually do things. But alas, this was objectively the best way to go about it. Ming was to go alone, attempt to sneak, while Abdel watched from a block away. From there, he had Qadira ready to attack if things went awry.

And they did, sort of. As Ming employed the gift to try and slip in unnoticed, three of the guards dressed in plain clothes were none the wiser. Except for one. He was walking toward Ming with clear intent and off his initial patrol path. Abdel had half a mind to try and attack to knock out, but his intuition told him this was far too risky. They had to act like they had been made.

Just as Ming was going to be intercepted, Abdel and his guard dragon walked up to the man. A man slightly taller than him, which wasn’t common in ReTan. “NinHao!” greeted Abdel with a very forced smile. “我是政府。我需要检查地方 (I’m government. I need to inspect place)” he uttered with minimal charisma which mattered little when Qadira had sublime timing with her burping of her recent meal. It was enough to get the guard’s attention, if he hadn’t noticed the hulking beast already that served as very obvious intimidation.

The guard just smiled as he saw the beast, and even seemed like he wanted to approach it. “政府？但一切都井井有条，长官。(Government? But everything is in order, sir.)” his expression dulled once he addressed Abdel’s approach with a very distinct accent. To which the teen replied. “我们很仓促。也许我们快点？ (We are hasty. Maybe we make quick?)” he took out a pack of rolled cigarettes that were in a red box, clearly made to be of high quality. It was a box he had gotten during his classes, and said to be a typical means of ‘acceptable’ bribery among everyday men. Added to this, he had a few incantors to go with it and Qadira’s loud breathing as incentive. Ming exhaled in exasperation from his hidden corner.

The man just chuckled, only looking at the offering once before addressing Abdel again. “先生，我们遵守所有规定。(We are complying with all regulations, sir.)” again, such an odd accent. And this time Abdel picked up on it. “... هل انت من هنا؟ (... Are you from here?)” he inquired in Virangish, much to the enjoyment of the guard. “أرى أن لديك أذن جيدة! أنا أكون. لكنني لست كذلك. (I see you’ve got a good ear! I am. But I’m not as well.)” he beamed at Abdel and shot an even happier smile at the Skuggvar. “من المحتمل أن يكون المستمع الجيد مثلك قد استنتج أن هذه قاعدة ثورية من نوع ما. (A good listener like you has probably deduced this is a revolutionary base of sorts.)”

Abdel gulped. He felt like he had just landed in the lion’s den. His hand reached out for Qadira’s snout. “لا تقلق ، لن أؤذيك. لكن يجب أن أسأل ، لماذا تساعد حكومة مثل هذه الحكومة؟ هل أنت خائف حقًا من عالم يتساوى فيه جميع الرجال والنساء؟ (Do not worry, I will not hurt you. But I must ask, why would you help a government like this one? Are you truly afraid of a world where all men and women are equal?)” Abdel began to draw while the guard enthusiastically began his speech. “هناك حاجة إلى رجال طيبين مثلك إذا كنا سنفوز بهذا! ماذا لو ذكرت لصديقك أن هذا مجرد شيء مضطرب للغاية. عموما لا يهتمون.(Good men like you are needed if we’re ever going to win this! How about you just mention to your friend that this is just a very turbulent enclave thing. They generally don’t care.)” shrugged the man, to which Abdel replied sternly. “لن أفعل. (I will not.)”

Just as the Tethered was ready to use his Magnetic magic in tandem with Qadira’s might, the guard had one final thing to say. “Then, you need to know a few things before you take any step further, Abdel Varga.” Abdel’s ice turned cold as the world around him distorted.



The Rettanese man fell to his knees and nearly hit his head on the stone pavement, only to be caught by Abdel at the last second. Everything was back to normal and not a second was lost in the present. To Ming, the guard had simply fallen over after telling something he couldn’t hear to Abdel. Sceptical of what happened, he emerged from his hiding spot and joined his foreign partner. He wanted to say something about Abdel’s methods, but he ended up just nodding. It got the job done and they had more to do.

“Bring the body inside, we won’t have much time until they suspect something.” whispered Ming as he opened the door to the innards of the warehouse, letting Qadira in first while Abdel started to drag the unconscious ‘Traveller’. The boy could still not believe this was, in some form anyway, the ‘great menace’. He could end this whole shebang right now, potentially. Or not. Chances were the traveller was too strong, that it’d have no effect. But in truth, he had massive reservations over doing it even if there were guarantees of it being permanent.

Once inside and the doors closed behind them, they would be greeted with a few stacks of crates. Near the centre was one crate in particular. It was smaller than the others and placed on a table as if it had recently been filled. Ming nudged his chin toward the box, and Abdel nodded. There were no signs of traps, not in this crate or the others. They began to gut them, starting with this one, though Ming was keen on opening a few nearby ones while Abdel examined the contents.

“Anything beyond clothes and a gun?” he asked, and Abdel had indeed removed both a rifle and a whole set of clothes. A Black Rezaindian set to be exact. “Yeah. You don’t have many Quentics around here, right?” to which Ming denied, it was definitely a rarity and always foreigners.

“Hui - Ash …” mumbled Abdel to himself. “Church clothes and a gun.” he blinked, recalling something from about a year ago. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, and yet it felt vivid. Like he had known someone that had all these pieces fit nicely together. But these weren’t the only things inside. There were also stacks of correspondences, mostly in Perrench.

Good thing Abdel had taken Perrench, and liked it more than Rettanese.

It was a back and forth between two authors: Ash and the one dubbed ‘Sifu’ by the former. Sifu - Teacher. Abdel could deduce that much. And in turn, recalling his trippy exchange earlier, he could already piece together a relationship with the traveller. They were the Sifu. And as he skimmed through the letters, he’d come to discover a breakage in the relationship near the end, shortly after being told of his moniker of ‘Ash’ translating to ‘Hui’ in Rettanese.

“Je regrette cette séparation, Sifu, mais je n’ai pas le coeur de me dévouer aux masses comme vous le faites.” read Abdel out loud. The falling out ultimately came down to Hui’s lack of drive to prop up all the masses and considered himself far more than the master did. Ming perked up, not nearly as proficient in Perrench as Abdel was. “Which means this isn’t about the traveller … The people are being used by Hui!” concluded Abdel, discreet but not enough to not get Ming’s attention. “What isn’t about the traveller?” to which Abdel simply passed the letters to Ming. “I don’t think the head of your problems is the Traveller.”

There was a final piece to consider. An old scroll, worn by age and the ink faded. It was in old Perrench, stuff that Abdel definitely couldn’t read. But he recognized some words. By the date written it was about eight hundred years old, at the time of the Great Heathen War - a piece of History the teen wasn’t too familiar with. Not that he knew much of History in general.

“Service,
Great,
Sacrifice,
Heathens.”

He could deduce these big terms among the faded words, the obsolete formulations and old spellings. That, and the seal of Arcel the Victorious.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet