Team
Wolves bay in the distance as mana warps reality around the orks. Thunder booms in your minds and a cold wind cuts off the baying. The spell crashes into the crosswinds and ceases to be.
Full Version: IC: Reclaiming the Void
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D'zan curses in Sperethiel as his magic is pushed aside, his face hot with embarassment not his change of plans producing no results. He seeks a target for his shame and anger and quickly finds one as he yells to the team.
"Will one of you black rock people ask who these people are and what they want?"
Leo flies next to Papa and places his hands on his wounds as he begins to sing. The air around him grows warmer and the smell of new growth fills the air. He sends the weaves of mana into his flesh looking to restore it to it's healthy whole state and seal the wounds. He speaks gently to Papa as the song end.
"He is right, the oracle should be able to help us here. You struck the bargain, you should get all you can before the price is due."
"Will one of you black rock people ask who these people are and what they want?"
Leo flies next to Papa and places his hands on his wounds as he begins to sing. The air around him grows warmer and the smell of new growth fills the air. He sends the weaves of mana into his flesh looking to restore it to it's healthy whole state and seal the wounds. He speaks gently to Papa as the song end.
"He is right, the oracle should be able to help us here. You struck the bargain, you should get all you can before the price is due."
Team
Argent's loping stride is cut short by the impact of the bursts. His body jerks to one side as he falls limply to the ground. Upon the astral, his aura dims briefly but stays steady. He's still alive, though for how long is unclear at a glance.
The lead ork, chuckles deeply as he watches the slim man fall to the ground. His rifle tracks through the air at the spirit whose magic had been ineffectual. "Be gone." Two cracks from the rifle are heard as he fires at Quahtli.
Argent's loping stride is cut short by the impact of the bursts. His body jerks to one side as he falls limply to the ground. Upon the astral, his aura dims briefly but stays steady. He's still alive, though for how long is unclear at a glance.
The lead ork, chuckles deeply as he watches the slim man fall to the ground. His rifle tracks through the air at the spirit whose magic had been ineffectual. "Be gone." Two cracks from the rifle are heard as he fires at Quahtli.
Team
The spirit weaves through the air, diving down to the earth. Quahtli comes to a skittering halt behind the bench that Uetz has taken cover behind. The ork roars in fury, screaming epithets in a language none of you speak.
The spirit weaves through the air, diving down to the earth. Quahtli comes to a skittering halt behind the bench that Uetz has taken cover behind. The ork roars in fury, screaming epithets in a language none of you speak.
Uetz eyes trace the Orc's shots towards Quauhtli, his face twisting into an expression of horror. However, he can feel his twin's battlefury and exhilaration as she twists and weaves out of harm's way. When she dips and speeds towards him, she lands with sharp talons digging into the pavement below her. She cranes her head towards Uetz and gives him a quick wink. If the eagle could smile, she would be wearing huge grin on her face.
Papa continues as the scene devolves to chaos around him. He twists as the round slams into his shoulder when he steps between the shooter and Argent. Seeing Argent continue then fall as the magical healing courses through his body, he pulls a grenade into each hand from his harness, pulling the pin from the first before throwing it into the face of the center ork sniping Argent.
Papa
The warm wind inside your skull blows gently as you drop behind a heavy concrete trash receptacle. They are the distraction to buy time for the others to take their true prize.
Team
Before the gunfire has a chance to die off, the two kneeling orks twist at the hip slightly. Each continues laying down a barrage of suppressive fire, one towards the bench Uetz has taken cover behind and the other in Papa's direction. The center ork dips, the weapon falling loose from his hands and hanging on the sling. In one hand, he scoops up the grenade. With the strength of a professional baseball player, he hurls it toward the glass fronted building nearby.
The knife-fighting ork flips the dull gray knife in his hand once and flicks it hard at D'zan. He shouts "Fade away!" as the knife soars. The ork's frame belies the strength behind the throw. The knife cuts through the air with near the speed of a bullet.
The warm wind inside your skull blows gently as you drop behind a heavy concrete trash receptacle. They are the distraction to buy time for the others to take their true prize.
Team
Before the gunfire has a chance to die off, the two kneeling orks twist at the hip slightly. Each continues laying down a barrage of suppressive fire, one towards the bench Uetz has taken cover behind and the other in Papa's direction. The center ork dips, the weapon falling loose from his hands and hanging on the sling. In one hand, he scoops up the grenade. With the strength of a professional baseball player, he hurls it toward the glass fronted building nearby.
The knife-fighting ork flips the dull gray knife in his hand once and flicks it hard at D'zan. He shouts "Fade away!" as the knife soars. The ork's frame belies the strength behind the throw. The knife cuts through the air with near the speed of a bullet.
Team
Despite the pixie's best efforts to get out of the way, the knife connects. The metal sends ripples of pain through D'zan's senses as the core of his being rejects it. The weight of the blade tears free of his body and falls to the ground below.
Despite the pixie's best efforts to get out of the way, the knife connects. The metal sends ripples of pain through D'zan's senses as the core of his being rejects it. The weight of the blade tears free of his body and falls to the ground below.
Uetz cannot bear to watch the outcome of the blade impacting the pixie. He is either dead, or alive. No sense in dwelling in it. If he is dead, then may he enjoy the paradise of Tlalocan. Instead, he turns his attention to the very immediate issue of increasing the odds of his survival.
"You forsook me once in my time of need, and painted the ground red with my blood. Perhaps you thought me unworthy, perhaps you thought that battle was not fated to befall us, or perhaps you required a sacrifice to pay heed to my solemn supplications. Now I call upon you again, holy warrior who protects my kin and kind. Come forth and relish the glory of battle!" Uetz weaves a Nahuatl chant, calling out the guardians who had ignored him before. Unlike before, he feels a powerful spirit relent under the force of his summons.
A window of fire and water opens, and a large spirit steps into the material world. Wearing the feathers and headdress of the eagle, clutching a shield that glistens with jade snake scales, and wielding a heavy, wicked macuahuitl, the spirit turns its mantled head towards Uetz and speaks with a thunderous voice.
"The scents of rage and fear hang heavy in the air. The sight of blood speckles the ground, and the sound of combat slays the silence. You have called, Nahualli, and thus I stand before you. The battle is joined."
"Thank you," whispers Uetz, relieved that his people's protectors had not abandoned him.
"Guys, we've got a problem," he calls out to the team. "I'm sensing only one enemy in the area, despite this pack of pinche pendejos. Quauhtli is sure that her bolt hit its mark, but that the buey resisted it. Can anybody tell me why?"
"You forsook me once in my time of need, and painted the ground red with my blood. Perhaps you thought me unworthy, perhaps you thought that battle was not fated to befall us, or perhaps you required a sacrifice to pay heed to my solemn supplications. Now I call upon you again, holy warrior who protects my kin and kind. Come forth and relish the glory of battle!" Uetz weaves a Nahuatl chant, calling out the guardians who had ignored him before. Unlike before, he feels a powerful spirit relent under the force of his summons.
A window of fire and water opens, and a large spirit steps into the material world. Wearing the feathers and headdress of the eagle, clutching a shield that glistens with jade snake scales, and wielding a heavy, wicked macuahuitl, the spirit turns its mantled head towards Uetz and speaks with a thunderous voice.
"The scents of rage and fear hang heavy in the air. The sight of blood speckles the ground, and the sound of combat slays the silence. You have called, Nahualli, and thus I stand before you. The battle is joined."
"Thank you," whispers Uetz, relieved that his people's protectors had not abandoned him.
"Guys, we've got a problem," he calls out to the team. "I'm sensing only one enemy in the area, despite this pack of pinche pendejos. Quauhtli is sure that her bolt hit its mark, but that the buey resisted it. Can anybody tell me why?"
The Troll damn near screams in defeat as the street samurai dispatches the grenade as if in a game of combat-catch. He responds to the voice in his head, "What is the true prize?"... I'd rather be the 'going crazy' where I am lord and master of the universe...
Papa
The warm wind brings back the overlaying purple lines of your vision. For an instant, three of the orks in front of you shimmer, replaced by a tall Nordic human, a broad shouldered ork with special forces tattoos, and a knife wielding human with the darker tribal features of Central America. They also seek the book, and will stop you from getting it if you continue to play games...
The warm wind brings back the overlaying purple lines of your vision. For an instant, three of the orks in front of you shimmer, replaced by a tall Nordic human, a broad shouldered ork with special forces tattoos, and a knife wielding human with the darker tribal features of Central America. They also seek the book, and will stop you from getting it if you continue to play games...
Team
One of the orks begins to chuckle as Uetz shouts out that he can see them, but his magic can't. "That's right, we're not real."
All across campus, lights turn on in buildings and illuminate the walkways better. The campus PA system starts wailing a high pitched siren, almost like an air raid. Within some of the windows, you can see the halogen strobe of alarms flashing.
Flashing across AR an urgent broadcast cuts through spam filters.
//UCLA Campus Alert System -- Fires have been reported in several buildings please evacuate the campus in an orderly fashion. Emergency crews are en route.// AROs begin to overlay the evacuation path from your area off the campus.
One of the orks begins to chuckle as Uetz shouts out that he can see them, but his magic can't. "That's right, we're not real."
All across campus, lights turn on in buildings and illuminate the walkways better. The campus PA system starts wailing a high pitched siren, almost like an air raid. Within some of the windows, you can see the halogen strobe of alarms flashing.
Flashing across AR an urgent broadcast cuts through spam filters.
//UCLA Campus Alert System -- Fires have been reported in several buildings please evacuate the campus in an orderly fashion. Emergency crews are en route.// AROs begin to overlay the evacuation path from your area off the campus.
D'zan feels the impact across his slight form from the knife - more like a broadsword to him than a knife. The pain flashes across his body but the armor he wore held and no blade pierced his skin. He tumbles through the air and rights himself smartly. Feeling the need to move quickly and decisively, he quickly grabs the mana around him and flings it in ropey strands around Argent's still form. He flows his thoughts into Leo's effortlessly.
I'm going for the book and I'm bringing the fox with me. As soon as you can follow - I need you to heal his wounds. Let the others know what's up.
He feels the assent ripple back through the link as he calls out.
"Enough of this shit - I'm out!"
He reaches out to the book - feeling for its location and begins to fly that way as Leo whispers to Papa.
"He seeks the book."
I'm going for the book and I'm bringing the fox with me. As soon as you can follow - I need you to heal his wounds. Let the others know what's up.
He feels the assent ripple back through the link as he calls out.
"Enough of this shit - I'm out!"
He reaches out to the book - feeling for its location and begins to fly that way as Leo whispers to Papa.
"He seeks the book."
Team
"Playmates, sounds like fun." The ork who had fired the grenade before, then howls in a strange tongue and there is a sudden shimmering in the air near Uetz. Pressure builds up in the back of the Aztlaner's eardrums before immediately dissipating. A wash of mana courses through the area.
"Playmates, sounds like fun." The ork who had fired the grenade before, then howls in a strange tongue and there is a sudden shimmering in the air near Uetz. Pressure builds up in the back of the Aztlaner's eardrums before immediately dissipating. A wash of mana courses through the area.
Team
As the mana tears through the spirits, the combined will of the Fey protects Leo's fragile form from the blast. Around Papa, the smell of earth and hounds becomes palpable. The ancient warrior takes a half step back, bracing his body against the blast. His body tears apart, evaporating into the aether around him with stoic pride.
Quahtli is knocked into the air as if by a huge gust of wind. The eagle let's out a single cry "Brother!" and is gone.
As the mana tears through the spirits, the combined will of the Fey protects Leo's fragile form from the blast. Around Papa, the smell of earth and hounds becomes palpable. The ancient warrior takes a half step back, bracing his body against the blast. His body tears apart, evaporating into the aether around him with stoic pride.
Quahtli is knocked into the air as if by a huge gust of wind. The eagle let's out a single cry "Brother!" and is gone.
The loss of his sister and guardian spirit nearly smothers Uetz with pure rage. A blood-red curtain is drawn across his vision, and he knows that his soul is shrieking furiously in the astral.
For the first time in a very long time, Uetz begins to contemplate killing these enemies slowly and painfully...
For the first time in a very long time, Uetz begins to contemplate killing these enemies slowly and painfully...
The ork's attention on the mages, Papa pulls his SMG and releases a long pull at the trouble maker. Time to stop playing nice... and time to geek the mage.
Papa
Bullets zip past your ears, buzzing close enough to shake your horns. You can feel the impacts in the concrete of the trashcan that you are hiding behind. The mage quickly dips and zigs to the left as you open fire. You still manage to connect with his center mass as the barrel begins to pull up leading across his torso. The impact knocks him prone, but you don't see the viscous spray of arterial blood which accompanies a direct hit on an unarmored target.
Team
Across the walkway, the grenade explodes. Instead of the quiet whoompf and hiss of the smoke grenade launched earlier, this is a cacophonous explosion accompanied by shattering glass as the front of the building explodes inward. Shards of glass tear through chairs and plants, embedding themselves deep inside the walls of the music building. A cello falls to the ground from it's display and breaks.
There's a muffled whisper from the group of orks. The firing team rises and all three of them launch grenades towards the groups taking cover. A thick wall of smoke and hot metal blocks your vision. The kneeling ones turn and start running towards Frat Row with all the speed they can muster. The center one, stays facing your team as he evacs--looking over his shoulder from time to time as he makes his way to the Kinsey building.
The knife wielding ork curses in Spanish before grabbing the prone mage by the collar. He begins to run deeper into campus, following the evacuation route. His strides take the distance that a normal man would cover in seven.
Bullets zip past your ears, buzzing close enough to shake your horns. You can feel the impacts in the concrete of the trashcan that you are hiding behind. The mage quickly dips and zigs to the left as you open fire. You still manage to connect with his center mass as the barrel begins to pull up leading across his torso. The impact knocks him prone, but you don't see the viscous spray of arterial blood which accompanies a direct hit on an unarmored target.
Team
Across the walkway, the grenade explodes. Instead of the quiet whoompf and hiss of the smoke grenade launched earlier, this is a cacophonous explosion accompanied by shattering glass as the front of the building explodes inward. Shards of glass tear through chairs and plants, embedding themselves deep inside the walls of the music building. A cello falls to the ground from it's display and breaks.
There's a muffled whisper from the group of orks. The firing team rises and all three of them launch grenades towards the groups taking cover. A thick wall of smoke and hot metal blocks your vision. The kneeling ones turn and start running towards Frat Row with all the speed they can muster. The center one, stays facing your team as he evacs--looking over his shoulder from time to time as he makes his way to the Kinsey building.
The knife wielding ork curses in Spanish before grabbing the prone mage by the collar. He begins to run deeper into campus, following the evacuation route. His strides take the distance that a normal man would cover in seven.
Hands trembling, eyes bleary, Uetz looks out from behind cover and begins to chant in Nahuatl. He calls upon the gods to grant him the strength to reap bittersweet revenge upon those who harmed his sister.
"Upon this battlefield, you have tried to strip from me whom I hold dear," he says, voice at first tremulous but slowly gaining force, "Know that you have failed. Know that I will find her. Know that we will laugh together at your folly in the sphere of the Morning Star. Know that beside Quetzalcoatl's compassion stands Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli's fury. I invoke his name, and call upon his power. If I am unworthy may I find peace as a warrior felled in battle, but if he grants me use of his darts may you forever be lost in the hells of Mictlan!!!"
Uetz shrieks the last few sentences before flinging his hand in the direction of his scattering enemies. A bluish green orb blazes from his hand and splashes in the area, sending forth wicked waves of mana in all directions...
"Upon this battlefield, you have tried to strip from me whom I hold dear," he says, voice at first tremulous but slowly gaining force, "Know that you have failed. Know that I will find her. Know that we will laugh together at your folly in the sphere of the Morning Star. Know that beside Quetzalcoatl's compassion stands Tlahuizcalpantecuhtli's fury. I invoke his name, and call upon his power. If I am unworthy may I find peace as a warrior felled in battle, but if he grants me use of his darts may you forever be lost in the hells of Mictlan!!!"
Uetz shrieks the last few sentences before flinging his hand in the direction of his scattering enemies. A bluish green orb blazes from his hand and splashes in the area, sending forth wicked waves of mana in all directions...
Team
The waves of mana crash against the icy will of another, wilting away like a summer flower caught in the force of a winter gale. The protection only seems to extend over the three of the orks. The two running toward Frat Row, lock rigid and slump to the ground. Blood pools around their bodies dripping from every orifice and the tips of their fingers.
The waves of mana crash against the icy will of another, wilting away like a summer flower caught in the force of a winter gale. The protection only seems to extend over the three of the orks. The two running toward Frat Row, lock rigid and slump to the ground. Blood pools around their bodies dripping from every orifice and the tips of their fingers.
D'zan guides Argent's limp body to follow in his wake as he pushes himself to fly as fast as possible, letting his connection to the book guide him where he needs to go.
Team
As D'zan soars away with an invisible tether pulling Argent along, the air around around the ork charging towards the Kinsey building wavers. Where the ork had stood, is a taller, more muscular ork with short cropped hair and security-armor. Papa recognizes him from the vision overlaid recently by Those-who-walk-in-Darkness' odd connection, and the portent when first arriving on campus.
Coltrane pushes through the door with a wave from his wrist and slams the door shut behind him.
Through the smoke, you can see the mage get to his feet. He and the knife wielding ork continue to run at inhuman speeds deeper into campus.
As D'zan soars away with an invisible tether pulling Argent along, the air around around the ork charging towards the Kinsey building wavers. Where the ork had stood, is a taller, more muscular ork with short cropped hair and security-armor. Papa recognizes him from the vision overlaid recently by Those-who-walk-in-Darkness' odd connection, and the portent when first arriving on campus.
Coltrane pushes through the door with a wave from his wrist and slams the door shut behind him.
Through the smoke, you can see the mage get to his feet. He and the knife wielding ork continue to run at inhuman speeds deeper into campus.
D'zan
You continue along the trail to the item, Argent's body coursing behind you. The smell of old leather grows stronger as you close the distance to your prize. Across the link with Leo, you see the play of events--two dead, the others withdrawing as Uetz and Papa prepare to give chase. Leo soars through the air, sped by his own magic to reach your side.
Papa and Uetz
Through the smoke, you watch Kieri and Bjorne charge further across campus. The mage pushes his body harder to match the pace set by his knife wielding compaion. Both run with superhuman speed, turning a corner and breaking your line of sight.
You continue along the trail to the item, Argent's body coursing behind you. The smell of old leather grows stronger as you close the distance to your prize. Across the link with Leo, you see the play of events--two dead, the others withdrawing as Uetz and Papa prepare to give chase. Leo soars through the air, sped by his own magic to reach your side.
Papa and Uetz
Through the smoke, you watch Kieri and Bjorne charge further across campus. The mage pushes his body harder to match the pace set by his knife wielding compaion. Both run with superhuman speed, turning a corner and breaking your line of sight.
Papa runs in pursuit of the attackers, SMG in hand, running at super-human (aka troll) speeds.
D'zan
Ahead of you, your vision soars spiraling through the Thaumaturgical Research building into a large library in the sub-basement. As the hunter's vision snaps back to your normal sight, you see a large building of concrete. Sigils glow brightly in the astral and you taste hundreds of different signatures that have left their indelible mark upon the astral space of the building. Around the building, a wash of different spirits flutters through the air. Most appear small, barely present among the detritus. Others loom like gargoyles above an ancient keep.
Papa
Your long legs stretch out as you run across the campus. It is clear that something has pushed the two runners well beyond any mortal limits of speed.
Ahead of you, your vision soars spiraling through the Thaumaturgical Research building into a large library in the sub-basement. As the hunter's vision snaps back to your normal sight, you see a large building of concrete. Sigils glow brightly in the astral and you taste hundreds of different signatures that have left their indelible mark upon the astral space of the building. Around the building, a wash of different spirits flutters through the air. Most appear small, barely present among the detritus. Others loom like gargoyles above an ancient keep.
Papa
Your long legs stretch out as you run across the campus. It is clear that something has pushed the two runners well beyond any mortal limits of speed.
As the villains turn the corner and vanish out of sight, Uetz feels an overwhelming urge to shed this form and catch them using another. The jaguar's speed and fangs, the eagles flight and talons, any form would do so long as it allows him to rip and tear at the people who harmed his sister. However, he knows his limits. Those men are warriors, and all Uetz has to his advantage is unbridled, pain-numbing fury. He would die in a straight up fight. Instead, he should call upon a warrior to assist him in seeking out retribution.
First Etain and Rene, now Quauhtli... They shall not harm my friends and family again...not again...NOT EVER AGAIN!!!
He takes a deep breath, and begins to chant once more.
"Guardians of my people, I call out to you! My soul, it cries out for vengeance! One of your kin, one of mine own, was felled upon this tomb of rock and water! If she must wander the hells of Mictlan, then let her have company in her travels! Let her have my soul, or let her have that of the one who dared harm her! I no longer fear the battlefield, and if it is my blood you seek then you shall have it! Come forth, Tlacel, and answer my challenge! Come forth, Tlacelel, and answer my call!!!"
Uetz weaves the summoning spell, calling forth to an elder warrior. His mind still blurry with fury, he does not call out as forcefully as a calm nahualli normally would. He feels the spirit's surprise at his summons, but its resistance melts at the hint of battle and bloodshed. The Tlacelel steps out from its Paradise, and enters the astral.
"You have called, and I am here, Nahualli. What is your command?"
First Etain and Rene, now Quauhtli... They shall not harm my friends and family again...not again...NOT EVER AGAIN!!!
He takes a deep breath, and begins to chant once more.
"Guardians of my people, I call out to you! My soul, it cries out for vengeance! One of your kin, one of mine own, was felled upon this tomb of rock and water! If she must wander the hells of Mictlan, then let her have company in her travels! Let her have my soul, or let her have that of the one who dared harm her! I no longer fear the battlefield, and if it is my blood you seek then you shall have it! Come forth, Tlacel, and answer my challenge! Come forth, Tlacelel, and answer my call!!!"
Uetz weaves the summoning spell, calling forth to an elder warrior. His mind still blurry with fury, he does not call out as forcefully as a calm nahualli normally would. He feels the spirit's surprise at his summons, but its resistance melts at the hint of battle and bloodshed. The Tlacelel steps out from its Paradise, and enters the astral.
"You have called, and I am here, Nahualli. What is your command?"
Papa and Uetz
Your prey is long out of sight. Klaxons continue to echo off buildings as the fire alarm blares and lights flash warnings. The AROs adapt themselves to your positions pointing to evacuation routes off campus warning that emergency response crews are en route to aid with the fire. Failure to leave campus in an orderly will result in a fine.
All
The red dust from the smoke, begins to itch along exposed skin.
Your prey is long out of sight. Klaxons continue to echo off buildings as the fire alarm blares and lights flash warnings. The AROs adapt themselves to your positions pointing to evacuation routes off campus warning that emergency response crews are en route to aid with the fire. Failure to leave campus in an orderly will result in a fine.
All
The red dust from the smoke, begins to itch along exposed skin.
Papa grimaces and slows, sliding his SMG back inside his bag as it becomes painfully clear that he is Wile E. Coyote chasing the Roadrunner. As his face begins to itch, pulls up the position of each of his team members. "Pull your pants up, time to go."
"Find this one and his friends." Uetz gives the Tlacelel every memory he has of the mage.
''Hunt them down. Kill them if possible. Leave them scarred and wounded if you must. Just make sure to hurt them. Let me know when you succeed, or if you fail."
"It will be done," replies the Tlacelel before leaving.
"They won't get away," Uetz replies to Papa. "If Tlacelel fails, I will find them. NO ONE hurts my sister and lives." Not after all she went through in order to join me in the physical world.
"Give me a place to meet up, and I'll figure out how to deal with whatever that red shit was that they dusted us with."
''Hunt them down. Kill them if possible. Leave them scarred and wounded if you must. Just make sure to hurt them. Let me know when you succeed, or if you fail."
"It will be done," replies the Tlacelel before leaving.
"They won't get away," Uetz replies to Papa. "If Tlacelel fails, I will find them. NO ONE hurts my sister and lives." Not after all she went through in order to join me in the physical world.
"Give me a place to meet up, and I'll figure out how to deal with whatever that red shit was that they dusted us with."
D'zan looks around and quickly spots a place to set Argent down - a small bench and grabbing a few impromptu props stages a maintenance worker who has passed out here on campus. He spends a brief moment worrying about the electronic things on him and prays Papa's digital workings will hold up and keep him safe till he returns. He briefly considers trying to use his comm but vividly remember the last time he tried to use the infernal device and the series of errors that flooded it. Resolved he turns to face the building and find a way in. He reaches out to Leo and leaves the connection between them open.
We need a way in and fast. I'm going to try to slip past the spirits but we'll see what happens. Hide us and speed us up, stay close and let's get this done and get out of here.
We need a way in and fast. I'm going to try to slip past the spirits but we'll see what happens. Hide us and speed us up, stay close and let's get this done and get out of here.
Realizing that the team needs an exit route, the troll places a call for a cab at the edge of campus.
Papa
The cab companies automated system doesn't seem to be aware of the full-scale evacuation of the campus, and confirms the address for pickup. It will be arriving in seven to ten minutes.
All
The itch worsens and your skin feels like it is on fire. You can feel the burning inside as well, along your lips and tongue, and deep in your chest. The dust begins to burn your body apart from the inside out.
The cab companies automated system doesn't seem to be aware of the full-scale evacuation of the campus, and confirms the address for pickup. It will be arriving in seven to ten minutes.
All
The itch worsens and your skin feels like it is on fire. You can feel the burning inside as well, along your lips and tongue, and deep in your chest. The dust begins to burn your body apart from the inside out.
D'zan writhes in the air, feeling the pain rip through his body and feels the echo through the link with Leo as his vision blurs and distorts from the agony. He holds on to consciousness knowing if he blacks out he could wake up in a some sort of cage - jail cell or lab specimen. The pain screams along his limbs but he manages to stay awake.
Leo immediately flies to him and rests his hands on his chest - he sings softly of dawn and renewal sending the flows of mana through his flesh seeking out damaged tissue and begins to repair it.
Leo immediately flies to him and rests his hands on his chest - he sings softly of dawn and renewal sending the flows of mana through his flesh seeking out damaged tissue and begins to repair it.
Papa grasps for breath, now frantic to exit the fireball he finds himself engulfed in. He breaks into a full sprint headed towards the location for the cab pickup.
<<@Team [Papa] [GPS ARO Attached] A cab is inbound. Once we exit the campus, I will update our coms. Hurry!>>
<<@Team [Papa] [GPS ARO Attached] A cab is inbound. Once we exit the campus, I will update our coms. Hurry!>>
Papa and Uetz
After a few seconds, the worst of the burning passes and you are left with the dull throbbing pain in your chest and throat. Together you begin to run to the edge of campus. A few moments pass without any signs of D'zan or Argent. You realize that messages across comms are likely not reaching the pixie or your unconscious teammate.
News drones scream past overhead, looking for the fire and impending story of carnage and suffering. Within seconds of their arrival, newsfeeds begin broadcasting //TRAGEDY ON CAMPUS//. Stock footage of buildings on fire and students laying dead on the pavers begins to run across the feeds. PITO feeds from the campus begin lighting up, subscription rising and falling as people across the metroplex look for up to the second information.
Papa
Your PITO feed subscription list rapidly climbs as the archives of your feed from a few minutes ago is found by a loyal follower and shared across network after network. The newsdrones pick it up, and a new message pops up. The station is offering 1500
to run your feed as an anonymous source.
Uetz
The connection to your spirit snaps and fades. As the bloodlust fades, you again feel the soft and tentative connection to the guiding influence of your sister. Not as strong as when she is at your side, but the confident wave of her support that you felt since coming into your magic and knowing her. No simple spell could wipe that basic connection away from you. Then you see the faces, young men, with the sunken features of regular starvation--dead by your will, killed by your rage and desire to lash out at everyone else in the world who had caused pain.
Depression washes over you, stripping you of your strength and will.
D'zan
The ache in your body from the flame-less fire eases as Leo's magic washes over you. Looking at the building, you see a few small openings in windows that you could fit through, though they are also warded. You know that many building have tubes on their roof which you have fit in before. The main door seems to be free of wards.
Gauging the spirits. their attention seems to be focused on specific parts of the building, including one of the windows that you could fit through. None seem to care about the front door.
After a few seconds, the worst of the burning passes and you are left with the dull throbbing pain in your chest and throat. Together you begin to run to the edge of campus. A few moments pass without any signs of D'zan or Argent. You realize that messages across comms are likely not reaching the pixie or your unconscious teammate.
News drones scream past overhead, looking for the fire and impending story of carnage and suffering. Within seconds of their arrival, newsfeeds begin broadcasting //TRAGEDY ON CAMPUS//. Stock footage of buildings on fire and students laying dead on the pavers begins to run across the feeds. PITO feeds from the campus begin lighting up, subscription rising and falling as people across the metroplex look for up to the second information.
Papa
Your PITO feed subscription list rapidly climbs as the archives of your feed from a few minutes ago is found by a loyal follower and shared across network after network. The newsdrones pick it up, and a new message pops up. The station is offering 1500
to run your feed as an anonymous source.Uetz
The connection to your spirit snaps and fades. As the bloodlust fades, you again feel the soft and tentative connection to the guiding influence of your sister. Not as strong as when she is at your side, but the confident wave of her support that you felt since coming into your magic and knowing her. No simple spell could wipe that basic connection away from you. Then you see the faces, young men, with the sunken features of regular starvation--dead by your will, killed by your rage and desire to lash out at everyone else in the world who had caused pain.
Depression washes over you, stripping you of your strength and will.
D'zan
The ache in your body from the flame-less fire eases as Leo's magic washes over you. Looking at the building, you see a few small openings in windows that you could fit through, though they are also warded. You know that many building have tubes on their roof which you have fit in before. The main door seems to be free of wards.
Gauging the spirits. their attention seems to be focused on specific parts of the building, including one of the windows that you could fit through. None seem to care about the front door.
D'zan
Approaching the front door of the building, you try the handle. Locked. With half a thought, Leo dematerializes, passes through and opens the door from the inside, pressing with his weight against the pushbar. You glance around the area, looking for the fastest way down. Moving as a blur, with Leo's magic aiding your speed, you fly across the entryway to the elevator. Motion sensors go off, with a flashing light from the small sensors in the corners. One more alarm among the hundred others already screaming out for attention.
The elevator doesn't respond to the button. Creations of man cannot stop one of the Hunt, you feel the strength of will building up before you realized its purpose. Mana courses through you, sharpened to a crystal's edge with Leo's aid. The power slams into the door tearing a hole through the elevator. Pain cuts across your left hand, but not enough to distract you. You fly down the shaft, weaving between thickly braided cables and around the stopped car.
Reaching the bottom, you can feel the weight of earth pressing around you. The elevator door again tears with the screeching of metal. Pressure builds between your eyes, but you draw on the last of your reserves to shove it away.
You float out into the hallway, deep underground, the pull of the book palpable now at this range. The sound of the alarms from above are faint, but there are other demons down here. Malice, pain, and cold merciless rage echo down the hallway. A massive wall of ethereal fire blocks the hall. Leo places his hand upon your shoulder, "it's charged." At first the words don't mean anything, then the vision washes over you--a gentler version of his ability to show people their past and future pains. You can see the spell hitting the wall of flames and rebounding back destroying your in your haste.
Wolves bay, a deep and ancient horn echoes in the distance. By stone and blood, hawk and hound, nothing will block the hunter from its prey. Power lashes out, shattering the ward. You can see in your mind's eye, an aging dwarf turn and look as her creation unravels. You float there for several seconds catching your breath. An aching spasm writhes through your right thigh. The spell had a cost, far greater than the pain that you feel--like something was wrenched free from within and lost.
Leo takes your hand, pulling you forward gently. He sings out a song and you feel your magic being pulled through him, rather than the reverse. The door blows inward. Fire ignites through the room as the door opens--a last-ditch security measure to destroy research items to dangerous to be set free. Your companion charges into the room, shattering the ward surrounding the book. His magic intertwines with yours as you cast out the spell to bring the book to you. Tendrils of magic lash out in other directions, trying to save other relics from the inferno.
Your will is nearly sapped as the book touches your hands. Leo takes the small stuffed bunny, one eye missing, and pats out the smoldering bits. A black lacquered puzzle box floats over and rests upon the book. It gleams with the reflection of the inferno.
Leo begins moving and calls to you, breaking the reverie of looking at the box. You fly as fast as your wings will carry you, pressed onward by Leo's magic.
Approaching the front door of the building, you try the handle. Locked. With half a thought, Leo dematerializes, passes through and opens the door from the inside, pressing with his weight against the pushbar. You glance around the area, looking for the fastest way down. Moving as a blur, with Leo's magic aiding your speed, you fly across the entryway to the elevator. Motion sensors go off, with a flashing light from the small sensors in the corners. One more alarm among the hundred others already screaming out for attention.
The elevator doesn't respond to the button. Creations of man cannot stop one of the Hunt, you feel the strength of will building up before you realized its purpose. Mana courses through you, sharpened to a crystal's edge with Leo's aid. The power slams into the door tearing a hole through the elevator. Pain cuts across your left hand, but not enough to distract you. You fly down the shaft, weaving between thickly braided cables and around the stopped car.
Reaching the bottom, you can feel the weight of earth pressing around you. The elevator door again tears with the screeching of metal. Pressure builds between your eyes, but you draw on the last of your reserves to shove it away.
You float out into the hallway, deep underground, the pull of the book palpable now at this range. The sound of the alarms from above are faint, but there are other demons down here. Malice, pain, and cold merciless rage echo down the hallway. A massive wall of ethereal fire blocks the hall. Leo places his hand upon your shoulder, "it's charged." At first the words don't mean anything, then the vision washes over you--a gentler version of his ability to show people their past and future pains. You can see the spell hitting the wall of flames and rebounding back destroying your in your haste.
Wolves bay, a deep and ancient horn echoes in the distance. By stone and blood, hawk and hound, nothing will block the hunter from its prey. Power lashes out, shattering the ward. You can see in your mind's eye, an aging dwarf turn and look as her creation unravels. You float there for several seconds catching your breath. An aching spasm writhes through your right thigh. The spell had a cost, far greater than the pain that you feel--like something was wrenched free from within and lost.
Leo takes your hand, pulling you forward gently. He sings out a song and you feel your magic being pulled through him, rather than the reverse. The door blows inward. Fire ignites through the room as the door opens--a last-ditch security measure to destroy research items to dangerous to be set free. Your companion charges into the room, shattering the ward surrounding the book. His magic intertwines with yours as you cast out the spell to bring the book to you. Tendrils of magic lash out in other directions, trying to save other relics from the inferno.
Your will is nearly sapped as the book touches your hands. Leo takes the small stuffed bunny, one eye missing, and pats out the smoldering bits. A black lacquered puzzle box floats over and rests upon the book. It gleams with the reflection of the inferno.
Leo begins moving and calls to you, breaking the reverie of looking at the box. You fly as fast as your wings will carry you, pressed onward by Leo's magic.
D'zan pushes himself and weaves his way back out through the building to the outside - alarms screaming all around him with the items he could spare from the inferno below. His soul aches with the loss of other relics that were stored in that room. More of mankind's mundane world takes hold with miracles absent and mysteries destroyed - this time he helped that happen. Hot tears of rage and shame fly from his face at the loss as he approaches the spot where he left Argent - the need for him to be there and safe weighs on him only to become a crushing wave of disappointment upon seeing him gone. He hovers there unwilling to admit that he is seeing an empty bench - waiting for something to make this not real to happen.
We can't stay here, we need to get back to the others. We will find him after this is over.
Leo's thoughts intrude on his own. His companion - his blessed curse blocks his view of the empty bench.
We cannot help him if we get caught or worse - we must go.
With the thought of being caged the paralysis snaps and they both take to the sky, pushing themselves and letting the magic they have left protect them and propel them onward to the loft.
We can't stay here, we need to get back to the others. We will find him after this is over.
Leo's thoughts intrude on his own. His companion - his blessed curse blocks his view of the empty bench.
We cannot help him if we get caught or worse - we must go.
With the thought of being caged the paralysis snaps and they both take to the sky, pushing themselves and letting the magic they have left protect them and propel them onward to the loft.
When Uetz stops running, he notices that the heat he is feeling is not just from all of the anger and physical activity. He hisses and collapses to one knee, feeling spittle mixed with blood flow from his mouth and form a mottled pool on the pavement. A tomb of rock and water, indeed, he thinks to himself, and wills himself to stand up. He looks at Papa and fights off the urge to simply give in and die on the spot.
"Give me a moment," he says to his friend between labored breaths. "I think... I think I can find a way to contact D'zan..."
"Give me a moment," he says to his friend between labored breaths. "I think... I think I can find a way to contact D'zan..."
Putting aside the pain of the "firedust" and the oppressive guilt of his bloodsoaked hands, Uetz manages to clear his mind long enough to peek into the Astral and call forth a huitzilcoatl.
"Father Serpent, Feathered Prince, please send your prodigal child a hint of hope," he whispers, eyes fixed on the Morning Star. He feels the huitzilcoatl coalesce alongside him on the astral plane. It hovers in front of him, patiently watching and waiting for instruction.
Little one, please bear a message to my friends. I doubt that you will find them, but should they find you let them know this: their companions are in one piece and heading home, and suggest that they do the same." Uetz opens his mind to the watcher, letting it memorize the physical traits and astral auras of D'zan and Leo, and points towards the building where he last saw them. With its destination in sight, the huitzilcoatl zips off into the night.
"I sent...I sent a watcher to let them know of our plans to head home. I can...I can heal your wounds, but---nngh---I might need you to tend to mine first. I can still heal, and it's the least I can do after being completely useless in that fight," Uetz says to Papa, still trembling from the emotional drain of the prior encounter.
"Father Serpent, Feathered Prince, please send your prodigal child a hint of hope," he whispers, eyes fixed on the Morning Star. He feels the huitzilcoatl coalesce alongside him on the astral plane. It hovers in front of him, patiently watching and waiting for instruction.
Little one, please bear a message to my friends. I doubt that you will find them, but should they find you let them know this: their companions are in one piece and heading home, and suggest that they do the same." Uetz opens his mind to the watcher, letting it memorize the physical traits and astral auras of D'zan and Leo, and points towards the building where he last saw them. With its destination in sight, the huitzilcoatl zips off into the night.
"I sent...I sent a watcher to let them know of our plans to head home. I can...I can heal your wounds, but---nngh---I might need you to tend to mine first. I can still heal, and it's the least I can do after being completely useless in that fight," Uetz says to Papa, still trembling from the emotional drain of the prior encounter.
D'zan
Your passage from the campus back to the house passes in a blur of light and noise. It's rare for you and Leo to travel this way in dire haste. Arriving back at the house, you circle around once before landing on the small ledge built to attach to your loft. The house is unchanged since you left a scant hour ago. There is no sign of unrest or anyone having been there--including no sign of Argent.
Leo sets the stuffed animal down. Looking closer at it, you see small burnt patches in the fur. One of the glass beads which serve as eyes is missing. The stitching is ragged and the toy looks to have suffered a child's attention for many years. Beside it, the small puzzle box gleams in the dim lighting of the loft. There are thousands of tiny glyphs carved into the surface between the panels. The panels themselves are polished and lacquered, only the grain of the wood keeps it from reflecting back like glass.
The smell of smoke and ash, almost gone from the loft from the previous trash fire, builds up again as it exudes off of you. Across the distance, you see another fire--college students, bare skinned and bloody, charge forward at police officers with naked fury. The Bacchae's influence seems to have driven them past drunkenness and debauchery into rage. As it's connection to you snaps violently, you can see the echo of its power in the students' bodies.
A small chime, like a distant gong, rings through the house below.
Papa and Uetz
The Aztlaner looks and stretches his mind, trying to focus on erasing the marks which will guide investigations straight back to him. Over and over, he sees the boys laying a handful of steps away. The pool of blood steams slightly in the cold night air. Papa sends out the call to move, the taxi was almost here. The hacker scrambles the taxi's logs, driving a circuitous route through public districts and away from the campus. He wipes the commlinks for himself and Uetz, expunging the fake IDs he'd placed there and spoofing their Access IDs to keep people from following him. When the hacking is done, he orders the taxi to the house and they get out.
With a backward glance to check for blood in the taxi, Papa pushes Uetz's listless body towards the front door. They step inside, as the gong sounds again. It appears to be coming from the hand mirror that showed the team's strange employer.
Your passage from the campus back to the house passes in a blur of light and noise. It's rare for you and Leo to travel this way in dire haste. Arriving back at the house, you circle around once before landing on the small ledge built to attach to your loft. The house is unchanged since you left a scant hour ago. There is no sign of unrest or anyone having been there--including no sign of Argent.
Leo sets the stuffed animal down. Looking closer at it, you see small burnt patches in the fur. One of the glass beads which serve as eyes is missing. The stitching is ragged and the toy looks to have suffered a child's attention for many years. Beside it, the small puzzle box gleams in the dim lighting of the loft. There are thousands of tiny glyphs carved into the surface between the panels. The panels themselves are polished and lacquered, only the grain of the wood keeps it from reflecting back like glass.
The smell of smoke and ash, almost gone from the loft from the previous trash fire, builds up again as it exudes off of you. Across the distance, you see another fire--college students, bare skinned and bloody, charge forward at police officers with naked fury. The Bacchae's influence seems to have driven them past drunkenness and debauchery into rage. As it's connection to you snaps violently, you can see the echo of its power in the students' bodies.
A small chime, like a distant gong, rings through the house below.
Papa and Uetz
The Aztlaner looks and stretches his mind, trying to focus on erasing the marks which will guide investigations straight back to him. Over and over, he sees the boys laying a handful of steps away. The pool of blood steams slightly in the cold night air. Papa sends out the call to move, the taxi was almost here. The hacker scrambles the taxi's logs, driving a circuitous route through public districts and away from the campus. He wipes the commlinks for himself and Uetz, expunging the fake IDs he'd placed there and spoofing their Access IDs to keep people from following him. When the hacking is done, he orders the taxi to the house and they get out.
With a backward glance to check for blood in the taxi, Papa pushes Uetz's listless body towards the front door. They step inside, as the gong sounds again. It appears to be coming from the hand mirror that showed the team's strange employer.
D'zan quickly flies through the house to the source of the noise - only slightly surprised to find it coming from the mirror. He props the mirror up to be able to see his reflection properly in it. He bows deeply to the hand mirror as he speaks.
"I hear your call I stand before you my liege and lord."
He sends a surge of caution and concern to Leo along with an urgency to find the rest of the team. Leo quickly flies through the loft and upon seeing the others calls to them.
"Hurry up, I think our employer is calling to collect his item." He pales upon seeing the gravely injured state both are in and immediately starts humming and places his hands on Uetz's body calling on the dawn and the forces of spring to begin healing his wounds and knit his flesh back together.
"I hear your call I stand before you my liege and lord."
He sends a surge of caution and concern to Leo along with an urgency to find the rest of the team. Leo quickly flies through the loft and upon seeing the others calls to them.
"Hurry up, I think our employer is calling to collect his item." He pales upon seeing the gravely injured state both are in and immediately starts humming and places his hands on Uetz's body calling on the dawn and the forces of spring to begin healing his wounds and knit his flesh back together.
Uetz smiles weakly at Leo, thankful for his aid.
"Thank you. At least one healer on this team can do his job. As for me..." He trails off, staring blankly at nothing.
You are too hard on yourself, Ikniuh. Quauhtli's voice sounds out from the astral, touching his mind.
I don't know, Hueltiuh. I made a promise to myself not to take a life unless forced with the choice between my own and my enemy's. However, when that...fiend hurt you, my mind with the trials of on the trail to Mictlan. Rivers of blood, roving packs of insatiable jaguars, mountains smashing viciously into each other, and winds that blow obsidian knives to cut its victims to pieces... I thought you were trapped there, wandering that wasteland. I couldn't bear it. My mind saw the red of madness, and I chose to embrace it.
That...that journey is not mine to make, Ikniuh. And it need not be yours, either.
Still... I wanted to protect Rene and Etain, and I failed. I wanted to protect my friends, and I failed. I wanted to protect you, and I failed. And while I lashed out at the villains that took you from me, I failed to strike down the one who caused your pain.
He sighs to himself, physically pained by a personal revelation.
The worst thing is, as much as I hate seeing those souls die from my hands, there is a part of me that is glad that they suffered. A part that rejoices that they are dead. And if it happened again, if I saw them hurt you, I am afraid that I would strike them down once more... What a horrible healer I am, seeking to do harm rather than treat it.
Ikniuh...
I just...I just need some time. Some distance from today. A chance to clear my head, and figure out what all this means. I'm sorry, Hueltiuh.
"Thank you. At least one healer on this team can do his job. As for me..." He trails off, staring blankly at nothing.
You are too hard on yourself, Ikniuh. Quauhtli's voice sounds out from the astral, touching his mind.
I don't know, Hueltiuh. I made a promise to myself not to take a life unless forced with the choice between my own and my enemy's. However, when that...fiend hurt you, my mind with the trials of on the trail to Mictlan. Rivers of blood, roving packs of insatiable jaguars, mountains smashing viciously into each other, and winds that blow obsidian knives to cut its victims to pieces... I thought you were trapped there, wandering that wasteland. I couldn't bear it. My mind saw the red of madness, and I chose to embrace it.
That...that journey is not mine to make, Ikniuh. And it need not be yours, either.
Still... I wanted to protect Rene and Etain, and I failed. I wanted to protect my friends, and I failed. I wanted to protect you, and I failed. And while I lashed out at the villains that took you from me, I failed to strike down the one who caused your pain.
He sighs to himself, physically pained by a personal revelation.
The worst thing is, as much as I hate seeing those souls die from my hands, there is a part of me that is glad that they suffered. A part that rejoices that they are dead. And if it happened again, if I saw them hurt you, I am afraid that I would strike them down once more... What a horrible healer I am, seeking to do harm rather than treat it.
Ikniuh...
I just...I just need some time. Some distance from today. A chance to clear my head, and figure out what all this means. I'm sorry, Hueltiuh.
The Living Room
Looking into the mirror, you see the desk from before framed by a high backed chair made of a strange leather and bone. The Huntsman stands near the chair, his hands running over a hand-bound tome that D'zan recognizes from Dishwater Sal's stall in the Market. He turns and small tentacles from below his shirt reach out and clear the desk before him.
"Ahh, good. You have found the first item. One of my agents will deliver your fee, in a more tangible form than the first. Hold the book before the looking glass of your bathing chamber and I shall ease its passage."
One of the tentacles reaches out and pulls over a standing mirror, elegantly carved. As his hand touches it, the glass shimmers like a pebble dropped in water and the reflection changes to show the hallway bathroom rather than his office.
Looking into the mirror, you see the desk from before framed by a high backed chair made of a strange leather and bone. The Huntsman stands near the chair, his hands running over a hand-bound tome that D'zan recognizes from Dishwater Sal's stall in the Market. He turns and small tentacles from below his shirt reach out and clear the desk before him.
"Ahh, good. You have found the first item. One of my agents will deliver your fee, in a more tangible form than the first. Hold the book before the looking glass of your bathing chamber and I shall ease its passage."
One of the tentacles reaches out and pulls over a standing mirror, elegantly carved. As his hand touches it, the glass shimmers like a pebble dropped in water and the reflection changes to show the hallway bathroom rather than his office.
D'zan lets his eye linger over the spot where the tome had been as he replies.
"As you wish my lord."
He quickly flies to fetch the book, taking a moment to look over what remains of the team. His only comment as he zips pass echoes towards them.
"You look like shit."
Scooping up the book he makes his way to the bathroom, visibly straining with the weight of the artifact. He props it up on the countertop facing the mirror. Sensing his intentions, Leo quickly flies from where he is and pushes the book back from the mirror's edge. He begins to speak over D'zan's curses in Or'zet.
"Great Lord - this book was acquired at great personal cost and we must humbly request a better reward than you may have originally considered. There were others after this great prize and a powerful entity who unlike you, can move in this world. We still persisted and retrieve this time but surely you can agree we have earned more in doing so and remaining true to our promise to do so?"
"As you wish my lord."
He quickly flies to fetch the book, taking a moment to look over what remains of the team. His only comment as he zips pass echoes towards them.
"You look like shit."
Scooping up the book he makes his way to the bathroom, visibly straining with the weight of the artifact. He props it up on the countertop facing the mirror. Sensing his intentions, Leo quickly flies from where he is and pushes the book back from the mirror's edge. He begins to speak over D'zan's curses in Or'zet.
"Great Lord - this book was acquired at great personal cost and we must humbly request a better reward than you may have originally considered. There were others after this great prize and a powerful entity who unlike you, can move in this world. We still persisted and retrieve this time but surely you can agree we have earned more in doing so and remaining true to our promise to do so?"
D'zan
Standing before your liege, you feel a massive will press against your mind and suborn the connection to Leo. Memories flash through in rapid succession as the sum of your relationship and nature is weighed and measured. The weight lifts as quickly as it pressed upon you, leaving you dizzy.
In the Mirror
The Huntsman seems to focus intently on Leo for a moment, before leaning back in his chair.
"Little Hound, it gladdens me that you saw your Nature and embraced it. The burden of mortality still weighs upon you heavily. In time, you may find that your Will does not need the bonds of compassion and sympathy.
"Your shadow speaks for the others though, as a liege-lord defending his people. I understand the duty of lord to vassal, especially when the vassal has performed well. They shall receive proper payment, as you see it. My agents will arrange for additional resources to be brought into your disposal as well."
He places his hand firmly on the book that D'zan wrote in freely and unknowingly.
"Come to me."
The words seem to drive marionette strings into the pixie's body. He picks up the book and flies through the quivering mirror. Leo vanishes, his form driven across existence to his master's side.
"Lick your wounds hunters, find the other items. Your reward shall be delivered within hours and two more shall join you when you are ready."
Standing before your liege, you feel a massive will press against your mind and suborn the connection to Leo. Memories flash through in rapid succession as the sum of your relationship and nature is weighed and measured. The weight lifts as quickly as it pressed upon you, leaving you dizzy.
In the Mirror
The Huntsman seems to focus intently on Leo for a moment, before leaning back in his chair.
"Little Hound, it gladdens me that you saw your Nature and embraced it. The burden of mortality still weighs upon you heavily. In time, you may find that your Will does not need the bonds of compassion and sympathy.
"Your shadow speaks for the others though, as a liege-lord defending his people. I understand the duty of lord to vassal, especially when the vassal has performed well. They shall receive proper payment, as you see it. My agents will arrange for additional resources to be brought into your disposal as well."
He places his hand firmly on the book that D'zan wrote in freely and unknowingly.
"Come to me."
The words seem to drive marionette strings into the pixie's body. He picks up the book and flies through the quivering mirror. Leo vanishes, his form driven across existence to his master's side.
"Lick your wounds hunters, find the other items. Your reward shall be delivered within hours and two more shall join you when you are ready."
Los Angeles
He stands feeling the sweat dry along his skin, each sensation both reassuring and disturbing. The fatigue that he felt was terrifying - the black gnawing void that pulled at him promising oblivion was unnerving, yet no one else around him seemed bothered by it. In fact, most saw it as a reward or sign of a successful night. No matter how much of his power he poured into this vessel it still clung to its mortality - the aches and weaknesses that indicated this Age had caged him. Nothing he could do right now would ease the limitations the oppressive consciousness of Man placed on magic in this Age. The ambient mana was a trickle, barely enough to make the changes this vessel required. He still existed and this vessel was steadily growing more powerful and that would have to be enough for now.
"You going to stand there all day Jim?"
He startled from his thoughts and felt the sound of the training room flood into his ears. He plastered the cocky smile they all expected from him, giving the raised eyebrow the crowd loved when he fought as he replied.
"Just thought you boys might like looking at a real man for a change."
The peals of laughter and whistles let him know he had succeeded at diverting attention from himself. He still struggled with the nuances of sexuality and power the other fighters made their lives. The vessel had been known as something of a sexual predator - no man or woman was safe when he was around so he was forced to keep that mystique alive. His early mistakes were covered by the head injury the body suffered and coma that followed. It had been an easy matter to repair the damage and make the needed alterations to house his essence but he was unable to retrieve any of the memories of Jim Cully. The nature of this injury gave a plausible excuse for his lapses but his near miraculous recovery put pressure on him . People were intrigued and he went from being a decent fighter to a minor celebrity overnight. He had taken pains to hide the extent of his improvements - letting them come out slowly over time and now working to maintain a level of competence that allowed him to move freely but never rose too high to restrict him in other ways.
He quickly showered and slipped on his clothes, grabbing his meager possessions in a duffle and left to find another coffin hotel for the night. His need to keep moving and this identity allowed him to travel for tournaments and bouts all over the world. The last trip to Seattle had been singularly unsatisfying. He had heard rumors of an exiled Immortal Elf in the city - one to be found outside of his circles of power and protections. A possible link to the Ages before and a solution to the problems he faced - chief amongst his inability to tap his full reservoir of power since coming to his plane of existence. He had made his way to the city only to find a mewling infant. He possessed no true power or connections to the 1st Age - a hallowed out empty shell with only the dust of Ages past in him. He couldn't risk the Great Dragons or their webs in this world, he lacked the power to survive such an encounter and would likely find himself being kept as a novelty in some vault or keep.
He paid the thin ork and slid his body in the box that would be his home for tonight. He heard the wheezes of the dying and saw the eyes of the hopeless as he had made his way here. All around things were being destroyed and that was home, it whispered to him the promise of his restoration. He had heard from the lips of a woman beyond sanity that something was here from the Gallery - a thing set loose and tasked. It was difficult to say whether his sister was speaking truth or just of another splinter of what remained of her mind but he decided to check anyway. Things so very rarely made it here from that place and the voyage was a singular experience for those here. The thought of something here was intoxicating - it could be a link back to that power, that inexhaustible well that he once drank from. The ability to simply wish something and have it be manifest - he would possess that again.
He lay in the dark and waited for the dawn, he must pretend to rest and sleep to not arouse suspicion. Come day he would begin to seek.
He stands feeling the sweat dry along his skin, each sensation both reassuring and disturbing. The fatigue that he felt was terrifying - the black gnawing void that pulled at him promising oblivion was unnerving, yet no one else around him seemed bothered by it. In fact, most saw it as a reward or sign of a successful night. No matter how much of his power he poured into this vessel it still clung to its mortality - the aches and weaknesses that indicated this Age had caged him. Nothing he could do right now would ease the limitations the oppressive consciousness of Man placed on magic in this Age. The ambient mana was a trickle, barely enough to make the changes this vessel required. He still existed and this vessel was steadily growing more powerful and that would have to be enough for now.
"You going to stand there all day Jim?"
He startled from his thoughts and felt the sound of the training room flood into his ears. He plastered the cocky smile they all expected from him, giving the raised eyebrow the crowd loved when he fought as he replied.
"Just thought you boys might like looking at a real man for a change."
The peals of laughter and whistles let him know he had succeeded at diverting attention from himself. He still struggled with the nuances of sexuality and power the other fighters made their lives. The vessel had been known as something of a sexual predator - no man or woman was safe when he was around so he was forced to keep that mystique alive. His early mistakes were covered by the head injury the body suffered and coma that followed. It had been an easy matter to repair the damage and make the needed alterations to house his essence but he was unable to retrieve any of the memories of Jim Cully. The nature of this injury gave a plausible excuse for his lapses but his near miraculous recovery put pressure on him . People were intrigued and he went from being a decent fighter to a minor celebrity overnight. He had taken pains to hide the extent of his improvements - letting them come out slowly over time and now working to maintain a level of competence that allowed him to move freely but never rose too high to restrict him in other ways.
He quickly showered and slipped on his clothes, grabbing his meager possessions in a duffle and left to find another coffin hotel for the night. His need to keep moving and this identity allowed him to travel for tournaments and bouts all over the world. The last trip to Seattle had been singularly unsatisfying. He had heard rumors of an exiled Immortal Elf in the city - one to be found outside of his circles of power and protections. A possible link to the Ages before and a solution to the problems he faced - chief amongst his inability to tap his full reservoir of power since coming to his plane of existence. He had made his way to the city only to find a mewling infant. He possessed no true power or connections to the 1st Age - a hallowed out empty shell with only the dust of Ages past in him. He couldn't risk the Great Dragons or their webs in this world, he lacked the power to survive such an encounter and would likely find himself being kept as a novelty in some vault or keep.
He paid the thin ork and slid his body in the box that would be his home for tonight. He heard the wheezes of the dying and saw the eyes of the hopeless as he had made his way here. All around things were being destroyed and that was home, it whispered to him the promise of his restoration. He had heard from the lips of a woman beyond sanity that something was here from the Gallery - a thing set loose and tasked. It was difficult to say whether his sister was speaking truth or just of another splinter of what remained of her mind but he decided to check anyway. Things so very rarely made it here from that place and the voyage was a singular experience for those here. The thought of something here was intoxicating - it could be a link back to that power, that inexhaustible well that he once drank from. The ability to simply wish something and have it be manifest - he would possess that again.
He lay in the dark and waited for the dawn, he must pretend to rest and sleep to not arouse suspicion. Come day he would begin to seek.
"And so it is done," Uetz mumbles, too ensnared in his own psychological conflict to spend much energy on the incredibly disturbing scene that played out in what used to be a fairly nondescript bathroom. "D'zan and Leo are gone, Argent incapacitated, and our circle seemingly broken."
He sighs heavily. He turns to Papa giving his remaining teammate a sad smile.
"If you are well, I will take my leave. I am sorry, my friend, but I have to find a way to clear my head. These last few days have been...difficult. Disturbing is probably a better word to use. I need to make peace with what I did back there, or at the very least, find a way to live with the pain." He places his things down and out of the way, and weaves a simple spell of shapechange. Emerald scales shimmer over his skin, and his body melts and stretches into the form of a large python. He slowly wraps himself around his foci, and sullenly slinks up the stairs.
He weaves his way into his room, slumps onto his bed, and curls up under his sheets, satisfied with his chosen form. First, the serpent form has always felt natural to him. Second, he does not have the energy to laboriously walk up the stairs. Finally, and more practically, snakes do not cry...
He sighs heavily. He turns to Papa giving his remaining teammate a sad smile.
"If you are well, I will take my leave. I am sorry, my friend, but I have to find a way to clear my head. These last few days have been...difficult. Disturbing is probably a better word to use. I need to make peace with what I did back there, or at the very least, find a way to live with the pain." He places his things down and out of the way, and weaves a simple spell of shapechange. Emerald scales shimmer over his skin, and his body melts and stretches into the form of a large python. He slowly wraps himself around his foci, and sullenly slinks up the stairs.
He weaves his way into his room, slumps onto his bed, and curls up under his sheets, satisfied with his chosen form. First, the serpent form has always felt natural to him. Second, he does not have the energy to laboriously walk up the stairs. Finally, and more practically, snakes do not cry...
The exit from the University was a blur. Sure, there was pain from the burning, but the chaos of the scene turning belly-side up left the team's hacker questioning just what the hell went wrong. They were waiting for us. We weren't prepared and now there is P2.0 video of me in the chaos. Truth be told, the troll was feeling like a rank amateur... but not so much that he didn't see an opportunity to provide some edited footage of from the chaos, anonymously, to the news station. The right edits and I should be able to divert suspicion from us to them...
=============
The adrenaline rush of the exit and the matrix follow-up of hacks, spoofs and various log edits is mostly subsided by the time the team reaches the house. Carrying the near-limb mage under one are like a parcel, Papa places him on the small sofa as the gong draws his attention to the hand mirror.
He scowls at D'zan's comment, thinking to himself. You little shit... Not all of us can fly away... And what's with this 'My Lord' crap? He elects to keep the thoughts to himself for now. The troll stays in the background during the interaction with the Huntsman. Not sure I fully trust him...
=============
Once his wounds are healed, through a combination of mundane and magical healing, Papa heads home. Unknown to his running partners, his father shares his modest home. The elder troll suffers from chronic pain, physically from injuries sustained in his former life as a security officer and emotional from the death of his wife nearly a decade ago.
The arrival home is mostly a ritual. Papa cleans up the empty alcohol containers and disposable soy-meal containers while his father complains about Papa's secretive life that takes him away, sometimes for days, without explanations. Papa patiently waits through the nagging, entertaining himself with P2.0 until his father runs out of steam.
With the descriptions of the next two locations in hand, Papa settles back to do some hacking and commune with his extra-planar entity. You know... I need to call this something. I think Harvey is perfect. He begins the processing of matrix based research while beginning a conversation with Harvey. "Ok Harvey. Since you're here for a while, lets look at a map." He pulls up an AR map he scrolls up to Great Bear Lake. Hmmmm... That might be it, but I think its lacking the cliffs. Changing his VR sculpting to be that of the mad sorcerers laboratory. His easy chair becomes a grand wooden seat fit for the mad sorcerer himself. He begins to move his hands as if conducting and music booms into the virtual landscape while a spirit form of a muscular, Mickey Mouse [browse program] appears. "Find me the lake. Go north, beyond the rivers. Beyond the mountains. Find the lake encircled by cliffs." While Mickey searches the matrix, Papa in turn communes with Harvery. "Harvey. Here is a map-" he says, gesturing to a wall now covered in a map of western north America.
His next questions center around Samael's Feather. Continuing with Harvey, "Next is Samael's Feather. What can you tell me about that?" He gestures with a finger, causing the map to shift to Central America. "Tezcatlipoca is Aztec, so that is Aztlan, correct? East. Is that into Mayan areas? Or down towards Amazonia? And what about this feather? What does it do?"
Finally, he goes about analyzing the scream sheets for an opportunity to raise some cash. Given the current state of things and of things to come, he realizes that they are woefully short of operating expenses. Working for otherworldly beings is not paying so well. Time to locate some place to pull a heist...
=============
The adrenaline rush of the exit and the matrix follow-up of hacks, spoofs and various log edits is mostly subsided by the time the team reaches the house. Carrying the near-limb mage under one are like a parcel, Papa places him on the small sofa as the gong draws his attention to the hand mirror.
He scowls at D'zan's comment, thinking to himself. You little shit... Not all of us can fly away... And what's with this 'My Lord' crap? He elects to keep the thoughts to himself for now. The troll stays in the background during the interaction with the Huntsman. Not sure I fully trust him...
=============
Once his wounds are healed, through a combination of mundane and magical healing, Papa heads home. Unknown to his running partners, his father shares his modest home. The elder troll suffers from chronic pain, physically from injuries sustained in his former life as a security officer and emotional from the death of his wife nearly a decade ago.
The arrival home is mostly a ritual. Papa cleans up the empty alcohol containers and disposable soy-meal containers while his father complains about Papa's secretive life that takes him away, sometimes for days, without explanations. Papa patiently waits through the nagging, entertaining himself with P2.0 until his father runs out of steam.
With the descriptions of the next two locations in hand, Papa settles back to do some hacking and commune with his extra-planar entity. You know... I need to call this something. I think Harvey is perfect. He begins the processing of matrix based research while beginning a conversation with Harvey. "Ok Harvey. Since you're here for a while, lets look at a map." He pulls up an AR map he scrolls up to Great Bear Lake. Hmmmm... That might be it, but I think its lacking the cliffs. Changing his VR sculpting to be that of the mad sorcerers laboratory. His easy chair becomes a grand wooden seat fit for the mad sorcerer himself. He begins to move his hands as if conducting and music booms into the virtual landscape while a spirit form of a muscular, Mickey Mouse [browse program] appears. "Find me the lake. Go north, beyond the rivers. Beyond the mountains. Find the lake encircled by cliffs." While Mickey searches the matrix, Papa in turn communes with Harvery. "Harvey. Here is a map-" he says, gesturing to a wall now covered in a map of western north America.
His next questions center around Samael's Feather. Continuing with Harvey, "Next is Samael's Feather. What can you tell me about that?" He gestures with a finger, causing the map to shift to Central America. "Tezcatlipoca is Aztec, so that is Aztlan, correct? East. Is that into Mayan areas? Or down towards Amazonia? And what about this feather? What does it do?"
Finally, he goes about analyzing the scream sheets for an opportunity to raise some cash. Given the current state of things and of things to come, he realizes that they are woefully short of operating expenses. Working for otherworldly beings is not paying so well. Time to locate some place to pull a heist...
Tuesday -- July 19, 2072
At the Safehouse
The day after D'zan's sudden disappearance, a gray panel van pulls into the driveway. A man and a woman, as naked as the day they were born, step out of the van and close the doors. The man tosses a set of keys to the woman, who pitches them with a thud against the front door. They begin to run down the street. In a blur, the man transforms into a large wolf. The woman beside him becomes a lumbering bear.
They cut between houses towards one of the large canyons in the neighborhood.
At the Safehouse
The day after D'zan's sudden disappearance, a gray panel van pulls into the driveway. A man and a woman, as naked as the day they were born, step out of the van and close the doors. The man tosses a set of keys to the woman, who pitches them with a thud against the front door. They begin to run down the street. In a blur, the man transforms into a large wolf. The woman beside him becomes a lumbering bear.
They cut between houses towards one of the large canyons in the neighborhood.
LA
Brock went about getting ready for his day setting aside his wishes and headed for the empty lot in his area where there were old drums and tires for him to bash for his work out with his sledge hammer in hand he walked out the door, walking about the area he didnt notice any gangers to use it on. Smiliing and saying hi to the kids hanging out loitering about he went to town on anything solid enough taking out the rage wanting to get out every swing was a release of anger. When the sun went down finally he made his way back up the street where he noticed a ganger hanging about where the young kids were earlier, smiling Brock coughed loud enough for him to hear. "What the hell are you doing around here" Brock said casually stepping close enought to either grab the scum or just smash him with the hammer where he stood, Knowing the response as the ganger let what ever he was smoking hang in his lip for a momment then but before he could even take it out of his mouth to respond Brock had the sledge hammer in motion aiming for a single blow. there was only one that he could tell but what they represented as a whole was all the justification Brock needed to end him where he stood and remove one more from population. Brock stood in the oversized shower made for his meta soaking in the warmth, Thoughts from when he and his wife used to take showers together before they had thier Daughter flooded his memories. as the blood from his revenge ran down his left arm trickled into the bottom of the shower and then into the drain, Brock was used to taking such wounds although ever since he started running he had noticed that he took a lot more punishment then when he would get hired on as a bodygaurd for VIP's or celebs. Once he was out of the shower and the blood from the recent ganger he mangled into minch meat was washed off him, Drek how he detested Gangers the whole lot of them. Memories of the day his family was taken away from him flashed before him, the urge to cause as much pain as possible to another ganger was powerful but he knew his night activities were taking priority although if he could find a halloweener a glint of excitement in his eyes would be seen if anyone was looking at him cause he so detested them most of all.
Brock was dressed and made his way to his Gopher, simple ride but got the job done. Brock headed to "the bar" which funny enough was a bar in the area, He was just waiting on a job from Theodore his fixer. Theodore had told him about a bodygaurd job that might be perfect for him and to meet him at "the bar" . Brock didnt like to wait but was used to it. he didnt take any of his guns but did have his gloves stuffed inside his coat pocket until he was inside then he slipped them on in case he had to enforce his personal space. his form fitting body armor under his loose fitting jeans and a sweater hide rigid frame considering what he weighted and how much he could lift were pretty close to the same number.
Brock went about getting ready for his day setting aside his wishes and headed for the empty lot in his area where there were old drums and tires for him to bash for his work out with his sledge hammer in hand he walked out the door, walking about the area he didnt notice any gangers to use it on. Smiliing and saying hi to the kids hanging out loitering about he went to town on anything solid enough taking out the rage wanting to get out every swing was a release of anger. When the sun went down finally he made his way back up the street where he noticed a ganger hanging about where the young kids were earlier, smiling Brock coughed loud enough for him to hear. "What the hell are you doing around here" Brock said casually stepping close enought to either grab the scum or just smash him with the hammer where he stood, Knowing the response as the ganger let what ever he was smoking hang in his lip for a momment then but before he could even take it out of his mouth to respond Brock had the sledge hammer in motion aiming for a single blow. there was only one that he could tell but what they represented as a whole was all the justification Brock needed to end him where he stood and remove one more from population. Brock stood in the oversized shower made for his meta soaking in the warmth, Thoughts from when he and his wife used to take showers together before they had thier Daughter flooded his memories. as the blood from his revenge ran down his left arm trickled into the bottom of the shower and then into the drain, Brock was used to taking such wounds although ever since he started running he had noticed that he took a lot more punishment then when he would get hired on as a bodygaurd for VIP's or celebs. Once he was out of the shower and the blood from the recent ganger he mangled into minch meat was washed off him, Drek how he detested Gangers the whole lot of them. Memories of the day his family was taken away from him flashed before him, the urge to cause as much pain as possible to another ganger was powerful but he knew his night activities were taking priority although if he could find a halloweener a glint of excitement in his eyes would be seen if anyone was looking at him cause he so detested them most of all.
Brock was dressed and made his way to his Gopher, simple ride but got the job done. Brock headed to "the bar" which funny enough was a bar in the area, He was just waiting on a job from Theodore his fixer. Theodore had told him about a bodygaurd job that might be perfect for him and to meet him at "the bar" . Brock didnt like to wait but was used to it. he didnt take any of his guns but did have his gloves stuffed inside his coat pocket until he was inside then he slipped them on in case he had to enforce his personal space. his form fitting body armor under his loose fitting jeans and a sweater hide rigid frame considering what he weighted and how much he could lift were pretty close to the same number.
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