Open Chronicles Fires In Elbion

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There it lay. Sitting within the chest as though it were nothing more than just another gem. Her eyes lingered on it, as though she could not quite yet reach out and touch it.

To most she supposed that it would appear nothing more than a large uncut emerald, deep lines of red running through the green. Yet it was so much more. It was the final piece of the crown, the thing that would complete the set she had stolen so many years ago when she had first run away from Elbion.

A smile touched her face.

Finally she would be done. Finally she would have silence. The crown would be complete, and the screaming pain inside of her head would cease. She could finally end it, she could finally be at peace and whole. Fingers loosened, a breath filled her lungs, and then she picked up the gem.

The moments her fingers wrapped around it she felt a sense of elation. Pure rapture filtered through her entire being. Every vein and artery seemed to be coursing with utter ecstasy. She shivered, goosebumps running across her flesh as a broad smile opened across her lips.

Her finger tips felt numb, and then slowly she reached up to place the gem within the crown.

Nayella felt it then.

Heat within her spine, a jabbing agony that appeared in an instant. Then she felt it again, then again, and then again.

The Blight Witch looked down, spotting a blade sticking out of the center of her chest. Confusion dawned on her face, eyes bulging slightly as she coughed. The taste of blood flickered over her tongue. She didn't understand. What had happened? What was going on? She didn't understand.

She tried to move, shift, look about her, but the heat within her spine was too much.

The world began to spin, her vision growing hazy. Her eyes glanced down at her fingers, noticing that they had begun to turn black. Her hand began to shrivel, then her skin, then everything. She collapsed onto the floor with a heavy thud, the gem falling free from her hand and tumbling away.

Within a heartbeat it all began to fade. The power of the crown, her own magic, all of it ate away at her body. Her skin became blackened, her eyes sunk, and her hair slowly began to whither.

It all began to fade.
 
"Volant, et perforabit."

The blades had sung through the air, finding there mark as the person slowly sunk to the floor. The protrusions seemed to perplex them, not allowing them to glance back at her as she dropped the spell of silence about herself. She shook her head, almost dissapointed that they hadn't been able to look back at her.

"Oh well." Phillipa sing songed as she stepped into the room, careful to not touch anything as she watched the trespasser shrivel and wither. Her brow knit together as she watched the spectacle, barely catching a glimpse of her face before it too was consumed.

"Ah, my poor darling. It seems you came back to us. A shame I couldn't see you off properly." Phillipa chimed as the scene before her finished its consumption. "I'll have to try and remember your name for records sake."

A former student, one that had absconded with the crown upon her head. At least, what remained of her head. A dangerous and fickle thing if she recalled correctly, and the unique flavor of the womans magic now making sense.

She glanced at both items, frowning and annoyed at the mess that there was to clean up. Flicking a hand towards the emerald, she spoke quietly before it rose and deposited itself back into the chest, using her others hand to lift the crown with the same spell.

"Et ortum moventur." She slowly strode through the underground, finding the room this item had previously occupied and deposited it back into its own chest and locked it away.

"Welcome home." She sung aloud to the chest before shutting the door and finding a gargoyle outside, waiting.

"A body in the other room. Take care with it as I do not know what will happen should you touch it. She'll be cremated in College robes befitting her station."
Phillipa waved them off as a set had already begun the process of repairing the damaged floor.

"Mind the college, I doubt another was with her. I'm leaving for the time being to see what it going on outside the ward." She hissed, making for her office once more before heading into the city.
 
As Alistair stared at the woman, he noticed her eyes didn't focus. He squinted, and beneath the light of the guard's lamp, he saw that she was holding a walking stick. He then realized that she was blind. The guards withdrew his sword and Alistair took the woman's hand and guided her on. He didn't say that he would do so or mention anything, but instead offered a simple gesture.

Alistair lead the woman into the healer's chambers, then shut the door. He detached the vial of blood from his belt, held it up to the light and looked through it, tiny speck of black visible in it's make. Setting it down, he turned around to face the herbalist, who said that one of the men on the ship was her brother-in-law.

Alistair creased his brow with regret. Sighing, he took off his mask and placed a hand on the bench, hanging his head.

"I'm sorry, show him to me and I'll heal him right away," he turned around and said, a subtle nod of acknowledgement.

Soaking his apron and mask in disinfectant, he grabbed a clean apron, tied it around his waist, and smeared the inside of his mask with an ointment that would prevent him from catching the plague. He did the same for another mask and handed it to the woman, "put this on, it'll at least give you some protection," he nodded, a hand outstretched.

"My name is Alistair Wren, by the way, what's yours?" He asked, turning around to face the desk.

He placed the vial of blood in a stand above a Bunsen burner and watched as it tempered, the little black flecks swirling. Hands splayed on the desk, he turned the dial of the burner up and squinted, observing the way in which the properties of the disease reacted to fire. He left the blood to temper, then turned around and faced the woman, who asked if they had looked at any potential sources of the plague from a different angle.

"The college hasn't no," he laughed, "but I'm beginning to suspect the disease reacts when exposed to fire, look at this," a nod, and he turned around, waving a hand towards the vial.

The little black flecks were disappearing as the blood reacted to the fire, making Alistair belief that it held some clue as to how it could be destroyed. Leaning back, he stood at his full height, his chin cupped in thought, "it seems that fire destroys the properties of the plague, but we still need to find out where it came from in the first place and target that," he nodded.

Alistair turned around, "but first, milday, your brother in law," he darted over to the bench and started packing all his tools into his case.

"Are you able to prepare some herbs to dispel his symptoms?" He asked, putting tweezers and rags into his case.
 
"What do I... Do..." Luc whimpered as he came to stand before Anima.

The creature, this Vicar, had made it's grandiose entrance leaving a stunned halfling in it's wake. He wanted to flee with Anima but she herself was now anchored and unmoving. Things just grew worse when she seemed to have a connection with the creature, confirming what he fear. This was in fact their doing.

"What do I do?!?" He said once more, alarmed as they both spoke his name.

He was not speaking to them. He was speaking to his voice. The one that inhabited his body. The one who's source was the amulet he stole from his teacher. The one who at the time he needed him most, had gone silent.

And then it began to clear, the fog lifting over his eyes. Anima... She had such a confusing way of talking. He focused on her words spoken just a scant few moments before.

"Anima.. What do you mean I know her..." he repeated.

Was she telling him that this was connected to her?!?

His mind raced as he stood before his companion, arms outstretched in a protective manner as if he could hope to curb the creature before them. He had to at least try if it struck, did he not?
 
The intersection of the street bathed in the dancing orange glow of the fire engulfing now the majority of the ruined Midnight Dream. A partial collapse of the side wall struck by the pyromancer's fireball, and there in the night a bloom of wild embers like the swarming courting of fireflies. The dead inside the tavern by the chance virtue of afterlife alone perhaps given the opportunity to judge this spectacle, their shared funeral pyre, beautiful or no.

Anima heard him. Luc. Saw him. Standing before her and daring, yes daring, to place himself in peril in her stead and with this lovely sight her heart swelled.

The Symbiote stopped, massive spider's legs coming to rest. The base of the crucifix placed to the ground and the Vicar upon it almost appearing to stand, barring the peculiar position of crucifixion. A small white tendril near her head reached up and removed her blindfold and the cloth fluttered down to the cobblestone. And though her eyes were but empty sockets she moved her head and acted as if she still had them.

And all at once Anima recalled her name, that night twenty years ago. The night an elven mage named Kylesia took her hand and tried to flee Elbion with her. They the two of them both fearful of Mother's wrath.

(Where is your father? Oh...I'm so sorry.)
(Take my hand, sweetie, take my hand! Run!)
(She's your own daughter! You can't...no, wait!)


The Vicar, Kylesia, shifted her head to "look" at Anima.

Said, "It wasn't your fault."

Black woodsmoke from the burning tavern. Ashes of what once was.

Anima said, "The girl who saw you then is not the woman who sees you now."

The night above. The minute obscuration of the black by the tiny white stars.

And the Vicar Kylesia, smiling: "Forgiveness always awaits the seeker."

No sooner after she spoke did the command of "Loose!" go up from the unit of ten guards assembled on the eastern street and their arrows streaked past Anima and Luc and hit the spider legs of the Symbiote and one landing square in Kylesia's stomach, blood trickling.

Anima felt all ten arrows. Her mouth open in a soundless scream of pain. No laughter. No delight. Pain. Pure and raw.

Like before.

* * * * *​

Kha from her vantage saw the guards approach. Up from the particular street that was to the backs of Luc and Anima. Luc and Anima, were they...talking to it? Doesn't matter, doesn't matter. They each had a bad history in Elbion, and sure, years have gone on but neither could possibly be enthused about a sizable guard presence in their vicinity. Think about it. They'd leave, of course they'd leave. No poetic justice for Kha tonight, no.

When the guards got close enough to really see the Symbiote they all stopped and Kha could swear she saw the wave of starts and flinches all the way from her corner opposite them. Yeah, no shit. They may as well been five sets of Khas and Claires out there. When the Symbiote first sprouted its legs back in the Senior's basement...augh. No, no, no thank you.

The guards pulled it together and lined up and nocked arrows and aimed and their sergeant yelled, "Loose!"

The arrows found their marks, but...the Symbiote didn't charge them. It wobbled to its left and steadied itself and wobbled to its right and steadied itself again. Otherwise didn't move. The guards, perplexed but emboldened, pulled more arrows from their quivers and made ready.

Kha slid back behind her corner. Eyes racing as she thought. Then she peeked out again.

Now. Now. Intervene before they kill it.

And Kha crouched and reckoned the distance and the force needed and flung the primed arc lightning trap lavastone. It came to a rest directly beneath the Symbiote.

Wait for it...wait for it...

* * * * *​

Claire ran. Because of course she did. Oh this just wasn't under her purview, was it? All the bothersome noise and smoke and dreadful bedlam. A rush regardless, the sizzling adrenaline no less savory, but this was lacking that special something. Oh what was it? Control. Ah yes, control, but of course. The thrill of danger and the thrill of power made for the headiest of intoxicants.

So she really needed to escape this troublesome little situation, didn't she? Why, it wasn't a stretch at all to say that monsters and cliffs offered the same thrill. Poke one, jump off the other, pick your poison if you like, oh you'll get your thrill darling, it just won't last very long now will it? Oh but of course she needed to get back to her world, the delicacies of subterfuge and espionage and oh the wonderful joys of control it offered. Ah yes there was her throne and she the queen who sat upon it.

Monsters? Please. Simply spare me.

And six of those Inferimps jumped down in front of her. Claire ground her heels into the street and skidded to a stop. Turned right around and--

There was another...thing. A big one.

Oh no! No! No! This was not going to be another Omega!

Houses. Doors. People inside. Options. Make it somebody else's problem. Claire rammed the locked door of a house and was frankly surprised when she bounced back and her shoulder hurt and the door hadn't opened like it should have or even so much as budged. What? That wasn't supposed to happen. She was the heroine of her own story! There was always a way out! Always!

The thrown rock. The big fire thing turning around. Willis shouting.

Claire ran from the Inferimps and gave the big thing a wide berth and went behind Willis. Good. Now he was between her and the monsters.

Great, even. Splendid cover for her escape and yes of course she kept running. Now back the way she and Willis had originally been going. Toward the docks. The Port District was sure to be safe! Why, guards were certainly keen to protect the assets of those who paid them.

And she ran.

Oh look one of those imps cut in half. Another with its head crushed. Ew, disgusting. But the others had gone and the way was clear so she sprinted and rode the pulse of adrenaline in her legs. Likely Willis had gotten that little injury she noticed dispatching these two. My, my, the hazards of his chosen vocation. Oh what a shame, what a shame, but that was for him and not for her. Why stay and find out what terrible injuries a full six of those imp-things plus the big one could inflict? As her lovely little Dio might say: "Those numbers just don't add up in our favor."

A guard. Just one. Coming onto the street from a T-intersection up ahead. Looking rather haggard and battleworn she might add. Well. Chosen vocation and all.

Claire ran to him and before he could say a word pushed him toward where she had come and said, "Do your job!" and left him to whatever fate had in store.

And she ran and oh those docks just had to be coming up soon.

* * * * *​

The crows all cocked their heads at the same time. Watching the Symbiote down below.
 
"NO!" His voice was raw emotion. Pain. Frustration. Anger.

The symbiote had called to him. It's connection with Anima was obvious but somehow, some way, Luc began to share in that tether. He had grown to love her and by extension, anything related to her. That was how these feelings worked? Right? Though he had become protective of the woman beside him, the creature did not seem to threaten her... or him. And thus... Was welcomed?

Perhaps he saw through veiled eyes.

He didn't care.

The moment was a drop upon a still puddle that sent ripples outward, disturbing the peace among the chaos at hand.

He heard her pain. He felt her pain. And from it birth rage.

"NOOOOO!"

He cried out as blue eyes focused on Anima, his sweet Anima. She was silent, mouth twisted in horror.. But he heard it... He felt it.

Unchain me... Bind me to your will... She needs protection! The voice in his mind cried. How much more will this city take from you? Your childhood... Your freedom... Your love?

His gaze wavered as his entire body shook, trembling from the unbridled rage that flooded every nook of his lithe frame. The voice was right. It was always right. Elbion robbed him of his childhood, for who else was to blame for the death of his parents? When attending the college, his only crime had been his skill and natural genius... He should have been celebrated. Sculpted into a force for the betterment of the center of magic through out the land. Instead he had been bullied for his short comings and heritage. He was framed because his very existence threaten others... And now... Now Elbion dared to hurt the woman he cared for?

"No more..." His voice crept out past thin lips, a pitiful proclamation. He was done with being stripped clean of what should have been his. He would have no more of this.

Upon shaky legs he stood beside Anima, his hands held up before him and shaking as his vision doubled. He felt nauseated, a warning going off in the recesses of his mind that he was fast approaching a point he could not turn from. He didn't creep forward to the edge and dare to peek over however.

He ran full steam ahead and jumped.

The amulet he wore glowed beneath his shirt and Luc began to rise, as if a puppet plucked upward by it's master. "I bind you to my soul..." He whispered.

A bolt of lightning cut through the sky, a tear that bathe the world in a near white bluish light that engulfed the halfing and near everything else around him. The flash was blinding as it grew and the following boom no less awesome. And then the moment passed, torn from existence as if it's life span had been no more then the blinking of an eye. The only evidence that something had happened was the black stain of ash that covered where Luc had once stood. He had been utterly, and totally obliterated.

In fear of the sudden flash and clap of thunder, the guard captain had ordered the release of the next volley.

And as the arrows were released towards their intended target, the spider like symbiote which stood so close... The Storm appeared.

From the black stain rose the swirling mass of dark clouds that cracked with red lightening, flashes of the hellish storm which brewed with in leaking out. The clouds took on the shape of a man but grew larger, swelling until it stood as a barrier between Anima, the the creature, and the guards opposite. The winds close to the storm raged and caused the arrows to fall from the sky, dead in the air it would seem as their momentum were ripped from each one.

The storm took further shape, it's sunken eyes lighting up with the destructive nature within as it's reddish glow burst outward. It's maw began to form, spiked and ridged and all sense of the halfling that summoned it was lost as horns followed next. And then it's mouth opened and all the rage that Luc felt was released in a terrible bellow that transcended that of a simple storm that could be heard through out the city, for on this day, a calamity had been born.
 
The Inferimps danced and giggled manically around the Magmmaw as they stared down Willis. "All right Claire!" Willis shouted. "Despite their looks, Magmaws usually want to keep themselves! We just-"

The sound of heels clicking against the stone floor caused Willis to whirl his head just in time to see Claire sprinting away again.... "Oh for fucks sake Claire!" Willis yelled. "You're going to get yourself killed running around recklessly!"

In a city full of Monsters, the last thing a person needs is to panic and run around like a maniac. Many Monsters will either feel threatened and attack or feel embolden and attack. Both outcomes aren't won't well for the panicked person. The young man had to find Claire but first these Inferimps and the Magmaw. Willis turned to see the Inferimps attempting to simultaneously leap at him. If there's one thing that the Inferimps has going for it besides their magma based attacks, are their sheer numbers.

Willis performed a vertical slash in the air hacking at two of the Inferimps closing in on him. Their molten filled bodies were cut in half and immediately dropped on to the floor. The Magamaw roared with some lava spewing out from its enormous mouth. Willis sidestepped evading most of the flying Inferimps though some scratched him across the cheek, arm and leg. The Magmaw began stalk Willis, its pointed foot cracking against the Stone tiles. Grimancing, Willis reached for his bag, his hand frantically searching for his last Ice Bomb while his eyes still locked on to the Magmaw.

"Fuck me!" Willis growled seeing the Magmaw bend over and open its jaws. The young man saw a bright red light forming around its mouth. "Shit!" Willis fumbled the ice bomb in his hand and threw it with all of his might into the Magmaw's mouth. The bomb exploded on impact encasing the creature in block of sparkling ice and for a brief moment, Willis felt his heart do a somersault.

The Inferimps shrieked in horror at the frozen Magmaw and began to disperse with some of them tripping each other up. "That's right!" Willis yelled triumphantly. "RUN! Ya little bastards!"

Now for Claire......

Closing his little black bag, Willis sprinted after Claire hopefully she didn't make it too far. More huge embers landed around Willis as he struggled to maintain his balance. He saw Claire push a guard out of her way yelling at him to do his job. "Good luck telling him that," Willis muttered reminded of the City Guards incompetence and corruption.

"CLAIRE!" Willis shouted. "STOP!"

Just then before Claire can reach the docks a large flaming ball almost the size of a meteor landed on to the docks creating a huge explosion. The guard screamed like a 5 year old girl and fled to the upper districts, Willis fell down on to the ground face first nearly losing his Cutlass in the process. "CLARE!" He shouted. "Are you okay?! Are you-"

The young man's eyes froze at the silhouette forming behind the flames. A large Monster stepped out from the cratered Docks. It was mostly humanoid with an egg shaped torso that was painted with yellow and red stripes. It had huge pink lips along with yellow tubular arms with three razor sharp claws sticking out. Dark red flames were on its head and shoulders.

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"Flaming Mortars," Willis mumbled struggling to get up. The Flaming Mortar locked eyes with Claire and smirked. It aimed it's tubular arm towards her fired a huge flame wall which blocked the path to the mostly destroyed docks. It then leapt through the flames beginning to run after Claire.

"Don't run Claire!" Willis shouted. "Flaming Mortars take that as a challenge! They'll chase you until they can melt the skin off you and feast upon your bones!”
 
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The man, angry but resigned, sighed. Glanced at Anima. Said, "Look at me, girl."

And she looked at him. Mother's eyes curious, watching them both.

The man, Trajan Meng, said, "Forgiveness always awaits the seeker. Remember that. And know that the spirit of humanity which dwells even in you can never truly be crushed, no matter what happens. There is hope for you yet."

Mother spoke. Angrily.

And Trajan said no more. He stood from the table and showed himself out the door.


* * * * *​

All the clamor of the world a distant thing.

The pain of the arrowheads in appendages not her own. Evocative. Across the span of time it echoed back.

Anima reached into her pocket. Amidst the teetering of the gigantic Symbiote and the sudden bolt of lightning and its subsequent thunder and the command of the guardsmen to loose once more and the manifestation of the living mass of dark clouds and the calamitous bellow she reached into her pocket.

She took out the old bandage, the torn scrap of Luc's shirt stained dark with her blood. Held it in her hand. He was not far.

And the phantom shock of electricity coursed through her body and she toppled over onto her side and lay there in the street. Still her hand clutched the bandage. That wonderful memento. Forgiveness paling in comparison, for there were things far sweeter.

* * * * *​

So her trap went off as intended. That was good. Right?

But...something...happened. Kha had no idea how to explain it. Before the trap, Luc was...she had no idea. Killed? Smote? Uh, transformed, maybe? Did he...dear gods, did he always know how to do that? Wait. Was...was he the one who nearly collapsed the whole farmhouse on top of all them? Trajan, and damn well everyone else, thought it had been Anima! Now, seeing this, it seemed that retaliatory arrow went into the wrong shoulder. Not, well, not that it would have made much of a difference. Apparently.

What to do. What do to. Think, Kha, think--

The bellow went out and Kha clamped her hands to her ears. And right then the trap underneath the Symbiote sparked and went off, arcing lightning into the legs and body of the Symbiote and one bolt even twisting around and striking the Vicar from the front. Anima fell over as if she'd been shocked too.

The Symbiote stumbled backward as if it were drunk. The Vicar it could no longer hold aloft and the crucifix dropped flat to the street and was dragged backward along with the movement of the Symbiote. The creature stumbled across the intersection and into the front face of a shop adjacent to The Midnight Dream, its massive spider's legs damaging the wood and punching out some of the glass. The body of the Symbiote was now almost entirely white, the last flakes of black falling from its spider's legs and leech body and disappearing like fading embers.

Problem. Two of them, in fact. The Symbiote was way too fucking close to her now, and Luc--what she thought was Luc, or what once was Luc--had become something even more dangerous than the Symbiote. Maybe more guards or mages would come, maybe they wouldn't. But the situation for her was just too far out of hand. Her chances of actually securing the Symbiote and the Vicar now were effectively nonexistent.

Damn Elbion. Damn this city! First her failure with the Supersledge, then her near-fatal injuries inflicted by the cult attack on The Broken Quill, and now losing the Vicar? She'd as soon see this city burn to the ground tonight have it rebuilt in the Luminari's image if the choice was hers.

Kha pulled up her hood and turned away from the struggling Symbiote and started walking, retracing the steps of how she had come. Keep it brisk, don't want to draw undue attention. She primed an Ice Trap lavastone and dropped it in the street behind her. Just in case.

* * * * *​

The sergeant of the ten guards voiced what they were all thinking.

"We're going to need more mages."

Could they run? No. They had a duty to restore order. But they could fall back. Maintain vigilance. No citizens were in immediate danger from either the spider monster or the cloud monster.

And the sergeant ordered one of his men to be a runner. To run as fast as he could to the College and summon anyone, anyone with magic ability, to assist them.

Phillipa Ebonheart Maho Sparhawk Kara Orin Nicodemus

* * * * *​

The explosion. That and a dreadfully loud bellowing from somewhere distant in the city.

Claire stumbled and fell, scraping her hands on the street as she fell to them. Honestly. This was absurd. Something like all of this would never happen in Vel Anir. Never. Probably not even in Alliria, though perhaps that was a touch generous. Elbion, the magical embarrassment of all Arethil. Why, she'd hardly be surprised if all these monsters that were "suddenly" appearing weren't kept in some basement similar to the Senior's and had been released intentionally. Ha! Do you know who started the fires, Willis had asked. Well, throw a rock and you're bound to hit a dozen suitable magey candidates to blame.

Speaking of, she heard him shouting, Willis. She would have shouted back to him but, frankly, all this bother of running and now having come to a stop left her feeling a bit winded. So she took the moment to catch her breath and look up--

Wasn't there enough fire in Elbion? Now a wall of it was burning away in this particular stone arch passageway connecting the Residential and Port Districts. Of course it had to be the one she was going to use, wasn't that simply wonderful? Well, count your blessings as they say, at least this time there were no--

A fat monster leaped through the flames. And ran at her.

She shrieked and swore and pushed her sore body back up to her feet and turned right the hell around and started to run. And Willis was shouting, wait, what? What?? Don't run? And do what, pray tell? Why, should she simply lie down and just let the monster, which was currently running at her oh by the way, yes, just let that horrid thing eat her? Oh no, no, no, that's not what the heroines of stories did. They devised clever plans and they certainly didn't lie down and things always worked out for them. Yes, love, clever plans. Or perhaps not so clever, just simple. That worked too.

After all, if at first a plan succeeds, do it again!

So she ran past Willis. Again. He was doing well enough for himself, wasn't he? Another monster for him to distract and fight while she made her daring escape was all just part of a Monster Hunter's night, now wasn't it? Good for him. In fact...

"You're doing fine, love!" she called back to him.

Augh. Maybe that was a tad much, yelling. Well, she knew it was. Her pace had slowed and her chest was starting to burn despite the adrenaline rush. Not to mention her back. Oh but where to now? There were other entrances to the Port District, but honestly, it stood well to reason in her gorgeous mind that those passageways could be similarly perilous. There was one place that was absolutely sure to be safe in all of this absurd mess.

The College itself. The damn traitorous College, naturally they would protect their own. Hmmm, well, there was certainly right and wrong times to call in favors and this, ah yes, this was a right time to call in a favor or two. Trajan and Kha needn't know a thing.

And so Claire turned at the T-intersection she'd passed previously and disappeared around the corner.

* * * * *​

The crows were gone. Black feathered bodies disappeared against the backdrop of night.
 
Rage. Attack. Survive.

The thoughts were rudimentary, the cornerstones of any creature trying to survive. It's rage was directed to the city around it as it lashed out, trying it's best to survive.

His own thoughts were archaic as they formed in his mind. His shattered mind. He knew he was alive, in a sense, however he felt separated from his body. Is was as if his consciousness existed outside of the storm creature that appeared. He was elevated, watching from a place high above as the creature extended a clawed hand and streaks of red lightning cut through the rooftops of several neighboring buildings. Roof tiled with clay squares shattered and exploded as the bolts tore through the structures, leaving blacken scorch marks and singed wood that gave way to flames. Luc watched the storm lumber forward and released another bellowing roar as the guards retreated.

"A djinn of my own design... At the height of my power it was one of my greatest achievements." The Voice spoke out, not in his head this time but from behind him.

Luc turned and felt as if he were swimming for how else could he hope to describe the weightless of floating? It was not like when he used the wind to propel himself. There was still the pulling of gravity at his heels but this was different. He wore an confused look on his brow as he saw him. The Voice.

He was Elven, that much was clear by the pointed ears and the angelic like beauty of his angular face. His hair was stark white and pulled back and braided. His clothed was of a soft material, white in color with intricate patterns sewn in gray thread which Luc realized to be clouds.

"It is you... The voice..." The words were plucked from his mind and made real.

"Aye... it is me... Your ever present guide... Your conduit to greater power...Of all the spells you could have chosen from my catalog...You chose a rather terrifying one dear Lucius... You could have created cloud cover... A thick fog in which you could have slipped away easily... but to think this was the one you chose..." The Voice spoke and for the first time Luc notice the dangerous gleam in his red eyes.

"You are taking pleasure in this..." Luc near whispered. "You speak as if I had a choice in the spell but this was the one you presented to me..."

"Perhaps... Best course of action... Given the fact that you two summoned that creature here and your patron is the cause of these fires did you not expect the entire wraith of Elbion to fall upon you? This is not some backwoods village you are causing ruckus in, this is a City State... "

"You thrive in chaos... What.. What have I done?" Luc turned away to see the Storm djinn claw through the roof of a building.

"Do not act the saint now... My rage at humanity placed aside, they have done much to wrong you. Even those who recruited you for this mission chose you only to appeal to your own humanity... You are more then that however. The rage you feel is of your own doing. I may add weight to it, but it was there before we joined together..." The Voice reminded him.

"I... Just need to get her out of here... This.. We were promised freedom..." Luc pressed on. He felt so weak. Troubled. Did he want this? This union between him and this voice? Suddenly free from it's whispers he didn't feel the rage he normally did. It was still there, the anger that his life had amounted to such. But it was not as strong. This needless destruction... could he live with such a thing?

"Then take it... The djinn down there is a vessel.. A host waiting for you to wrestle control... Save her... Destroy more of the city before a true threat arrives... What ever you wish." The Voice offered ideas.

"What do you get out of this... Any of this?" Luc asked. The Voice had provided him with knowledge. Always helpful but never asking for anything in return. The Halfling had been so blinded he never saw the truth before him. Everything had a price.


Do you really want to do this now! You came here to fight for your freedom... You've feelings for that girl down there... And here you are attempting to be clever and guess at my motives for aiding you? I'll spare you the investigation. A great wrong was cast upon me the likes you have never experienced at the hands of men like those below who think themselves better. I am full of rage and malice but I am not twisted like a crooked tree that stands the sentinel against a raging storm. I am the storm! You've become a gate way to vent my anger onto this world Lucius and my thirst for revenge will not be sated by the toppling of a few houses... I am to raise cities... The Voice paused and then scoffed as he looked to Luc. "Wipe the horrid look of your face... Lesser mortals have birth raging monsters onto this world.. You... You are to celebrated... You, a well of such untapped potential... Learn from me what you can because we will part ways eventually and I will bear you no harm or ill well brother... Because we are the same... Now, stop treading water... Worry not about what is to come and focus on her." The Voice placed a soft hand on Luc's cheek and forced him to look down on Anima.

It was if he had the eyes of a hawk, focusing on the field mouse below as it hunted high above in the sky. He saw the crumbled form of Anima before she grew and grew until all he could see was her.

"She needs you more then ever..." The Voice's anger receded.

And Luc found himself falling from the heaven's a comet tearing through the sky as he honed in on the storm djinn before smashing headfirst into the storm. Wrestling control... That's exactly what it felt like. Like a man attempting to hug a damn tornado. He felt the rain pelting his body, each drop painfully stinging against his bare skin. The wind tore at his lift frame and he felt his body seared a thousand times over by bolts of electricity. But like a mad dog clamping it's jaw around the ankle of an escaping man, he held on. And in time he felt the storm seeping into his body and the djinn became an extension of his mind. He was at it's center, afloat in the calm airs of it's core.

Turning to face Anima, the storm djinn reached down and gingerly swept her into it's grasp. Gone was it's rage as it had one thing in mind. Survive.
 
(OOC: City Guard Captain: Albert)

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It all happened so fast.

One moment everything was normal in the city of Elbion and by normal of course it meant that Albert had to deal with guards who were more interested in gambling and shopping the many market districts instead of keeping watch for pickpockets and smugglers who infest this great city every day like roaches. On top of that, the black market of Elbion resided somewhere in lower districts. They provided customers with illegal items such as books about dangerous forbidden magic, banned weapons, drugs and other dangerous things that is sold. The owner of the black market is a human named: Fabien no one knows who he is and who he looks like everytime Albert thinks he has a lead on Fabien it ends going cold.

It was just another day, Albert was in the guard tower drinking his morning coffee and going through the reports until he heard an explosion outside. Nearly falling from his chair, Albert grabbed his Silverite Hat and his Silverite Iron Longsword and sprinted out of the tower ordering Nadine to take over while he's gone and yelling at any startled guards to follow him. As Albert arrived the entire district in flames people screaming avoiding the embers that fell upon them. Buildings slowly starting to crumble under the immense heat of the flames. Albert's expression was that of horror and then of rage fire is a beast that consumes all it touches, an element representing the hell in which the Demons in Pandemonium live in.

Albert needed to stay calm and needed to holdfast despite the problems that have been permeating Elbion, he is their protector and the first line of defense if the city comes under attack. It was time to do his duty. Flame based monsters suddenly began popping out of the fire and began attack the citizens.
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"Captain!" One of the guards shouted quivering in his armor. "Is this Pandemonium all over again?! Has hell opened it's jaws once more?!"

"Get a hold of yourself son!" Albert said brandishing his longsword. "Whether they are demons or not you swore an oath to protect this city!"

Albert raised his Longsword over his head. "We all swore oaths!" he bellowed. "The people need us! We are the Guardsmen Elbion! We fight to protect! No matter who or what the enemy is!"

They may as well be demons these flaming beast look like them but it's irrelevant right now. It was time to fight. "COME HELP ME KILL THESE BASTARDS!" Albert roared and the men and women of the city watch drew their swords and cheered. A small smirk came over the Captains face it was good to see them rise up in the face of danger. As they charged and began to kill as many monsters as they can Albert thought about never doubting the valor of the guardsmen again.

OOC: Willis Reede

Flaming Mortars or Flame Mortars are rare monsters who live near hot, arid areas or commonly near Volcanoes. They have the ability to switch thermal vision which allows them to see the body heat of their target prey. Further research by Madame Valkery showed that the Flame Mortar can even isolate the heat signature they intend to target. Flame Mortars are light on their feet and can use the yellow tubes around their arms as an accelerator.

"I know I'll do fine Claire," Willis muttered as the beast rushed past him hot flames coming out from its tubular arms. "It's you that I'm worried about."

With Claire, it was a game of rescue, then sex, then flirting and intrigue and the whole cycle starts up again. Willis always ends up frustrated and angry with Claire due to her antics getting both in trouble yet he can't help but be compelled to reenter the cycle all over again. "It's the pretty face and the huge breasts," Willis grumbled going the opposite way. "Claire will be the death of me one day and I'll probably say: As long as she and I have sex before hand I'll die a happy man."

Willis shook his head. "I'm such a good person," he muttered.

The Flame Mortar detected Claire through its thermal vision it began banging against the brick walls creating destruction as it went along. It roared in delight as he saw Claire running down the alleyway. Willis continued to run the other way. He knew these alleyways well, they were long and maze like perfect for any criminal to escape the guards. There were many dark dealings in these alley ways and more in sewers. The Flame Mortar's thermal vision won't be able to detect them if through layers of concrete. Willis could just hope to intercept Claire before she becomes roasted.

As he entered the alleyways, Willis saw Claire running for her life with the Flame Mortar right on her. For a brief moment the young man was memorized by Claire's breasts swaying left and right as she continued to run. "Damn you Willis!" he cursed. "Focus you fucking idiot!"

Willis ran up to a dark area in the middle of the alleyway and hid waiting for the right opportunity to intercept Claire. His back against the brick wall, Willis saw the manhole which lead to the sewers. He navigated through the sewers before he knows that path will lead to the Bloody Gate. As Claire ran, Willis quickly grabbed her waist and held her close. "Quiet!" Willis whispered in her ear. "Follow me."

The young man quickly opened the manhole and allowed Claire to go in first. Before the Flame Mortar could reach the area, Willis closed it and climbed down. "Listen Claire," Willis said. "I keep saving your ass because I care about you!"

"Too much," Willis thought.

"Now if you want to leave Elbion alive than your ass needs to do as I say! You can't just run around frantically like a Chicken with its head cut off. Not with these monsters! It's a good way of getting you killed."

Willis then sighed. "These sewers are mazelike," he explained. "And it's really easy to get lost Claire. One of the paths leads to the Bloody Gate and our ticket out of here. You stick to me no matter what and when I say hide: You fucking hide! Don't go running around!"

Grabbing Claire's hand, Willis began to walk. "It's good to see you again Claire," he sighed.
 
She strode from the college, hands comfortably set into her dainty looking gauntlets as she heard the yelling of guard captain Albert. She shook her head at his need to be remembered as the man that didn't abandon his post., didn't give up on the people, and most importantly never strayed from his duty. Monsters were appearing, and she was not about to let the fool perish here.

"Hiberno ortu glacies egreditur." She spoke softly, the whispering trail of icy wind causing the feather mantle to rustle lightly. The smallest of the fire creatures were lanced upon harpooned with sudden bursts of ice from below them. The air grew frigid, the bipedal creatures giving her a sharp look as she smiled and cast a hand over each one of them slowly.

Their digits raised in an attempt to cast fire at he before a slowly encasing ice stopped them. Phillipa smartly waved, her fingers catapulting the small metal ball bearings into the figurative faces of the beings as they were encased in ice, shattering them in their sculpture-esque form.

"Glacies et tenebat lanceam." Phillipa chanted for a moment as an icy javelin appeared in her silver metal hand, hurtling with an echoing snap in the air as it found one of the worms with deadly accuracy. It writhed beneath the point, screeching and screaming at her as she called in another javelin and cast it at another worm.

"Is this all captain? Fire demons and other ilk that enjoy the chaos that dances among the embers?" Phillipa called, not disappointed in the opposition that faced Elbion, but certainly not impressed.
 
The arrow fell from the Vicar Kylesia's stomach, the wound closing. The pain of the lightning inflicted by Kha's trap made to disappear.

The Symbiote now completely white. It had no more power on which to draw, and thus the Thread of Mortality to which all on Arethil were bound did so commence with its grim work. The elongated leech body of the Symbiote began to shrink, as if It were descending back into the open wound upon the Vicar's chest. Two of Its spider legs fell off and toppled to the ground as if they'd been severed by a spectral scythe.

And the Symbiote could not understand Its own coming death, the very concept inconceivable.

* * * * *​

That feeling of being watched fading, like the slow uncurling of a clenched hand.

Anima knew what It was. At last she knew. This she remembered as she had Trajan's name, Kylesia's name.

Yes, she knew. The Thing which had horrified her so and driven her in a foolhardy flight across the world. The Thing Mother worshiped.

But here, now, she suffered no horror. She held the bandage to her chest. Both hands touching it. The cloth of his torn shirt gracing the tips of her fingers.

Yes. Love. A madness all its own. An embrace both sweet and bitter, of such an enrapturing quality that all the woes and wonders of the world were made subservient before it. The true monarch of the heart and everything that dwelled within. All may be banished by decree of the Queen: reason and rage, sanity and sorrow, temperance and terror.

This transcendent madness on offer, these delights of pervasive passion ready to drown the world, the inoculation against the rational and thus fearful mind. This, yours...

You need only give in.

And you have given in, haven't you?

Anima lay still and limp and did not resist when the hand of the giant djinn picked her up. And she did not fear. Oh the lovely taste of cherries.

He was not far.

* * * * *​

Claire almost did yelp. Almost. Maybe, if she'd a bit more breath to work with. But as it turned out it was Willis. Which was odd. He was supposed to be fighting the fat monster. And somehow he'd gotten ahead of her. Oh perhaps she could spare him a tiny bit of credit in that regard, well done, he knew a few more of the paths less traveled about Elbion. Frankly though, and oh she could be quite frank about this, many of those paths were simply filthy, uncouth for an esteemed woman like herself to be seen frequenting. Just dirty and smelly and altogether a nasty affair.

Ah, it seemed Willis had finally come to his senses and decided to stop fighting monsters. Follow him, he said, with that little conspiratorial air of him having found a place to--

Hide. Was...was that a lid down to the sewers.

Claire's face twisted in disgust. Pure and utter disgust and frigid reluctance. Oh she had most certainly used the word absurd in her thoughts far too soon. Was this it, then? Had Elbion quite literally become a cesspool, such that the last remaining refuge of safety in the city were the sewers? To reiterate. The. Sewers. Ugh.

But if Willis wasn't fighting the fat monster then the fat monster was sure to be nearby, it and whatever else was loose in this godsforsaken city. So she shivered fiercely and her shoulders raised up to the level of her cheeks and she let out a groan and yet she took hold of the ladder and descended down.

She could never tell Kha about this. Never! Why, no one had ever accused her of having much in the way of shame, but certain things, yes, certain little things were best left unsaid. And she shook with another wave of revulsion, the smell one of those things better left unspoken of, that and the "water" her boots were submerged in. It was likely a good thing that it was pitch black down here; some things better left unseen, add that in.

Willis had come down. At least he could distract her from the pure vileness of their chosen refuge from danger. How did it come to this? Ugh. Even the blessing of catching her breath from all that bothersome running was made foul down here.

I keep saving your ass because I care about you!

She had a fistful of her shawl held over her mouth and nose, so it muffled her voice to an extent. Still, the distraction of conversation was indulgent down here. She fanned her free hand whimsically and said, "Oh but of course you do, my dear Willis."

And he had a lot more to say. Swore quite a lot, notably. Tried to take her hand, ending with, It's good to see you again Claire.

She yanked her hand back. Waved a finger with her free hand, for all it was worth in the thick darkness. "Ah-ah-ah, not so fast. Honestly, Willis, I simply cannot fathom why you're so angry. I'm doing just fine. Not a scratch on me. Clearly I couldn't have possibly handled that whole affair any better."

"Now, why should I go anywhere, hmm? Traipsing about in a godawful sewer that's pitch black to, what, inevitably get lost because neither of us can see where we're going and stumble into more of who-knows-what down here? And do you any idea how uninviting a place called the Bloody Gate sounds to a well-adjusted person?"

She made a point to lightly tap the metal of the ladder they'd descended with a fingernail. "While this certainly isn't the sanctuary I'd hoped for, it'll do until the mess in the city is sorted out. Why ruin this respite with silly little notions of sloshing through sewers practically in search of misfortune?"

A throaty hmm. "Don't you worry yourself, Willis. I know you're simply dying, no pun intended, to fight some more dreadful creatures and that merely waiting here sounds terribly boring, but I assure you that I make for quite the engaging conversational partner. Why, the sun will be up and Elbion will be at peace again before you even know it!"

* * * * *​

The crows flew from the destruction of the djinn. Gathered elsewhere. Awaited.
 
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Issy, snapped out of her thoughts as he replied with a hurry to heal her brother in law.

“Y, Yes.” She said at first trying to get a grip on what was happening and then she felt something brush against her hand, she grabbed it out of instinct, it was a mask, she took it.

“A pleasure, Isabeau.” She stated with that unique honeyed voice.

As he answered her, it was now making sense and then she heard a sloshing of liquid, a sympathetic look grew on her face as the man still didn’t notice that she was blind.

It was refreshing actually and then again, he must have had very little sleep, Poor boy she thought to herself.

As he looked to her again, he would see that her eyes didn’t even register the vial and she asked.

“I’m sorry, but what is the reaction? She made sure that her comment came out kind, there was no judgement in it. She understood he was under a lot of pressure.

“I do, and though I do not need this mask, I will wear it just in case. . .Have you ever heard of thieves oil?” She stated as she placed the mask on, tying the straps behind her head, she gestured for him to take her to the men.

“Please, I’ll follow you, I believe he’d be with the crew?” She had no clue where her brother in law was, but he would.
 
The djinn cradled her in it's large hand, cupping her like a child would hold a withering flower. To it's chest she was brought and upon gentle winds carried into a large cavity that opened up revealing Luc within. Like the calmness in the center of a tornado, he waited for her until she floated to him and with his arms he took her and held her as close as possible.

"Let's be free of this my love..." The words flowed freely from his lips, a stream feeding into a lake of truth.

Through this crazy venture he had fallen for the often looked at crazy woman who spoke in such odd ways. He looked to her with a warmness as the destruction around them faded into the background. They did their part. Now it was time to seek peace.

And so the vortex in the djinn's chest closed once more, sealing the pair with in before the living storm lumbered away, a walking tornado that made way for the southern gates.
 
Into the heart of the djinn. And there her madness rewarded.

Luc, awaiting embrace. He held her and Anima held him. That sweet, savory contact. All the world banished, mattering naught, for all she needed she so held now.

"All is made sweeter, endured together." She smiled. Kissed him, no more wonderful a feeling across the whole of Arethil. "Isn't it?"

Their sealing together within the swirling vortex of the djinn's chest, the manifestation of Luc's doing. How joyous, exhilarating, to know that she had played a part. Partook in the tide of Luc as he discovered facets unknown within his heart.

Yes.

And there would be more yet to unveil.

Wouldn't there?

She the loving witness to it all.

* * * * *​

Nearby The Midnight Dream, the murder of crows descending from the night sky and gathering and swirling about at the ground level, flying so fast and so neatly as to be wholly unnatural. A black mass of them forming, swirling faster and coalescing together. Feathers and wings and beaks congealed together, taking a new form, all becoming part of a whole. And the blackness leaked away, like ink spilled from a vial.

Khorvayne stood. Opened her eyes. Smiled. Held out her hand and watched another crow land on it and transform in a puff of black smoke into her baleful black scythe.

She walked. The symphony of sorrow and fear and death throughout Elbion a lovely tune of music to her ears.

The burning Midnight Dream. The column of smoke and fluttering of orange embers slaves to the whim of the wind. The storm djinn leaving the city.

Khorvayne stood in the intersection of the street before The Midnight Dream. Cast her gaze upon the dying Symbiote. Upon the Vicar Kylesia.

Slowly she approached. Basking in the moment twenty years in the making. This meeting yet again, here in Elbion, between herself and Kylesia. She could not see, Kylesia, but still she trembled. Yes. All was right with the world.

"A sacrifice must be made," Khorvayne said.

She extended her left hand toward Kylesia and the flailing Symbiote in its throes of death. Her hand beckoning. Inviting. Strands of darkness emerged from beneath the crucified elf and the leech creature protruding from her chest and snaked about them both, a slithering embrace of total dark. When they were smothered in the absolute, the darkness condensed down to a small obsidian orb and floated into Khorvayne's hand. Her fingers clutched it. She gazed at it, triumphant.

She inhaled one last time the smell of smoke and ash.

And Khorvayne's body burst apart and became the murder of crows, wisps of black fog swirling and coming to rest and dissipating in the street as the crows flew up and away.

Great things were soon to come.
 
“So what do we do now Nico?” Alexander asked as the other sorcerer broke the mental link between himself and the entity. Blinking a few times Nicodemus looked around before responding. It was always strange to return to his own senses after experiencing the alien perspective of one of his summonings, he noted with pleasure that at least he had only felt like throwing up and not actually done it. By now the battle mages that had gathered around them had run off to do their job, what exactly that was Nicodemus didn’t know and he didn’t really care. In the distance he could hear shouting and alarms crying out.

“Now, now we trap this area I suppose. Unless you feel like running after whatever broke in”. Alexander's response was a snort, neither of them had any real interested in that.

“Sounds good, guess we should let the other warding squads know as well, maybe have them make some largerer flashier once around. Might make it more likely for the culprit to choose this exit and get trapped”. Nicodemus nodded his agreement as he pulled out his black edged knife and started to work. “Might even ask the guards to beef up security around other possible areas of escape”.

It would be nice if the culprit when done with its business ran headlong into their trap. It wasn't fancy or complicated wards Nicodemus was making, it was a matter of hiding the wards and holding whatever it was in place. Two very basic principles, as he worked he even added a few other wards in the area, more flashy the kind that looked like they’d pack quite the punch. They were a mix of fakes. a few serious once and a lot of flash but no substance. He didn’t have enough energy to ward the whole area so he hoped that whatever it would active one ny accident or notice them and be forced into the direction of the real trap. Either by luck, because the creature didn’t care or it was in a hurry.

Either one would do just fine. The tricky part now was how he was going to reinforce the capturing wards, clearly normal warding schemes would just suffer the same fate as the original. A fascinating challenge he dived into, he wasn’t sure if it’d work, but time was of the essence. It would be a poor trap if he was still in it when the prey arrived.

_______
O.O.C sorry for never replying, I was supposed to post this before the conflict was over but real life tripped me up good. For all purposes this post changes nothing really, besides adding a bit of fluff and showing what Nicodemus would be doing when the rest of you where saving the day or trying to ruin it.

Luc Isabeau Anima Phillipa Ebonheart Smiling One @naytella Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk Alistair Wren