Open Chronicles The Burning of Elbion

A roleplay open for anyone to join
"Fuck." he snarled as he came up to the front of the College. The war of the wizards.

He unsheathed his sword from his back and carefully moved behind a wall to further get a better grasp of the situation. It looked like solely one person was taking on the whole thing by himself. For all the insanity he had seen mages demonstrate, this probably came in top three. No wonder Thane's magic senses were going wild.

The monster hunter questioned his own motives to come to the College. Was he driven by the instinct to attempt to confine the magicians' damage solely to their own kind? Heroism long died within him. Did he expect the appearance of monsters and dark magic for him to hunt and extort a hefty payment from the Merchant Council thereafter? Sounds about right.

Yet, there was a rumor of something of great value to him within the College's inaccessible vaults. If that said something even existed.

He doubted he'd find a better timing in the future than this.

Eren Damar
 
College - Mage Tower

Maecey looked around herself as she plopped onto her feet on the otherside of the window.

Curtains rustled as she pushed her way inside, peering around as she came to realize where she was. A large bed sat in one corner of the room, a few posters hung on the wall, and there was a writing desk positioned right next to the window.

From the bookshelf in the corner of the room and the tomes contained within she guessed that she had somehow made her way into a high level students room. Likely someone who had been at the college for quite a few years.

Lips thinned for a moment and she did her best to recall the map of the College she had been given before the mission.

"Fuck." She swore quietly as she realized that the Maester's room was nearly on the other side of the whole damn College. "Rookie move."

Maecey said to herself as she shook her head and made her way to the door. Halfway across the room she stopped, spying a small cloak in the closet. A frown touched her lips, and then she ripped the garment down from it's hangar.

Donning it, she stepped outside the door.
 
"It's still happening." She gestured across the courtyard at the flaming rent where the inner doors had been. "Maho Sparhawk is burning his way in."

Zafira's breath caught in her chest, and she felt her heart start to pound. She could practically hear the ringing in her ears. Lightly, she touched the memory rune on the side of her wrist. She wasn't at Elbion College when the fight between Maho Sparhawk and the college had happened. Alistair Wren had been a huge part of the fight as well, and the news had reached far. She was in Alliria when she learned about the 'war', training with another professor. Still, she gathered a lot about him. One of them being that he was dead.

"That can't be," she murmured. Despite never having seen the woman in her life though, Zafira felt deep in her bones that she wasn't lying. Zafira swallowed hard and glanced at the empty doors. The woman was right. She had a perfect escape where most didn't. Still, her mind went out to her classmates and friends. If what she knew about Sparhawl was correct, the college would need as much help they could get. And Zafira was no coward.

"No, I'm going back inside," she said, still gazing at the school. She turned to the woman and glanced down at the girl. She was young, a girl who had probably just started school. Zafira looked away from her as the woman put the girl to rest.

"On any other day, I may have asked you about necromancy," Zafira said with a dry smile, standing up.

"Do you need any help here?" she quickly asked the woman.
 
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It. Was. Magnificent.

Kikwi stood just within the front gates of college. His eyes and his beak were wide open, and he stared for such a long time that two people had almost tripped over him.

It was the most beautiful building he had ever seen. It towered above him and the rest of the city. The architecture was at once sturdy and bizarre, with elegant curves and thick stone walls. Students in robes dotted the courtyard, reading books and talking amongst themselves, and Kikwi distinctly thought he caught a flash of something supernatural.

When he finally made in into the first building, he was similarly wonderstruck. He took in every painting and statue on the walls, his oversized head swiveling and spinning so quickly that he began to shed tiny feathers onto the stone floor.

It wasn’t long until he reached a great ornate door. It had a beautiful glass window, and through it Kikwi saw something that made his heart beat even quicker.

The room was filled with books. Thousands and thousands of books. Books on shelves. Books on tables. Books in the hands of students and professors and some books in shiny crystal cases. A student entered the room, and Kikwi quickly darted in behind them.

The first book he found was written in characters he did not understand, but the second one he could read. He didn’t understand much, but he did recognize some symbols as the magical runes that his new friend Sigfrith had showed him.

Suddenly a great boom rippled through the room. Books tumbled from shelves and a few students shrieked. Kikwi turned his head back towards the door, and through it he could hear quite clearly.

Screaming. Crumbling. Burning.

A moment later throngs of students began running past the door. Just as many began to run out of the library, and Kikwi was pushed along with them into the hallway.

It was chaos.

“Wha-“ he squeaked as he was buffeted by students’ shins and knees. “What was that—what is happening?” But his small voice was lost in the cacophony. He could head pounding behind him, and he turned his head completely around to see a massive stone monster running down the hall. With a shriek, he pinned himself against the wall, closing his eyes tight.

But the monster moved past him, followed by several more of its kind. If they had not caused the noise, what had?
 
ZafiraJade

"Just helping her find some rest. It's not all skeleton hordes and hauntings. If you're ever curious, my name is Harrier Wren. I work at Crossroad Mire in the Bayou Garramarisma. As for help..."

Harrier flinched at another burst of flame, not close but not far either. An immense amount of magic was at work here, an order of magnitude beyond the magic she'd seen the Dreadlords do at Coraliv. She ran a hand over her mouth and tasted ash.

"...I'd suggest you extract as many students as you can."

Gods above, the College would never be the same. For all that she empathized with anyone who felt betrayed by this place, she'd always wanted to come home someday on her own terms. An abstract, improbable hope, to be sure.

A hope that would utterly disappear if Sparhawk destroyed the College.

Panic dominated the courtyard and exposed portions of the College. If any of the senior Maesters had stepped up to impede the attacker, Harrier saw no sign of it. The recent dead cried in the back of her mind. She picked up a staff from a dead mage and headed into the flaming breach.
 
"I'm Zafira," she nodded, offering Harrier a half-hearted smile. She would definitely take up that offer. Just at a time less urgent than now.

"Under other circumstances, I'd say it's a pleasure," Zafira grinned, bowing her head lightly in goodbye before turning to the college, practically running in. She formulated a plan as she took in the fallen gray stones, fires bursting from different locations. Zafira's eyes morphed into a brandy color as she pulled the moisture from the air and put the fires out. It wasn't her main focus though. She would go up to the tower, and huddle in as many students as she could. That route would have the newer, younger students. She'd direct them to the library where Mr. Strongpants had probably already placed a number of enchantments there. If she could lead them out of Elbion College, then she would take her chances with them. She had a few potions that helped with speed as well, so maybe she should head to her dorm.....

A bubble of fear gripped Zafira as she thought about bumping into Sparhawk. She knew she was powerful enough, but she highly doubted that she'd be able to face off someone like him. She didn't want to. She felt her hands start to shake and Zafira forced herself to take her mind off of it, reciting her plan in her head over and over again.

Just as she reached the tower, she bumped into a beautiful orange-haired woman who was outside her room. Zafira's eyes narrowed as she took in the garment she was wearing. "My cloak!" Zafira accused, her green eyes glaring into the woman. Zafira felt her adrenaline course high. There was no point worrying about it. If a thief wanted to take one of her cloaks, fine. She had other things to worry about.

"Doesn't matter," she murmured.

Zafira moved out of the woman's way and went on to tug at her drawers. she took a key out and lifted a floorboard from the ground roughly, tearing a nail in the process. She unlocked the box within and took out all the potions within it, putting them in the pockets of her cloak.

Harrier Maecey Chadwick Strongpants
 
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PORT DISTRICT


Trajan Meng entered the dockside warehouse, a Luminari-loyalist harbormaster beside the doors giving him a curt nod as he did. Inside were walkways and sectioned storage areas, these bracketed by the wood and carved stone support pillars. Some sections were more stocked with crates and barrels and canvas sacks than others. Outside light trickled in at an angle through glassless windows.

He was pleased to see Khadija Han, Clarissa Mejeure, Dio Rico, and some twenty believers already present inside, good men and women all. There was no one else, all the dockworkers sent off on a generous break by the harbormaster.

They stood if they were sitting or straightened up if they were leaning and they all turned to face him. Their faces hardened, disciplined, ready. They knew the weight of what was being asked of them.

Trajan stopped before them. Took his time to make eye contact with each and every man and woman. "Today," he said, "we may be entrusted with the single most important task of our lives." A pause. "A task I cannot command you to embark upon. You alone must decide. None will judge you should you leave now, for there are many ways in which the cause may be served."

Silence. None of them moved. None of them left.

And Kha yelled, "For Mankind!"

Then, together, the whole lot of them yelled in unison, "FOR MANKIND!"

Trajan nodded his head. A smile, rare to his countenance, as he said, "Then let us begin."

* * * * *​

They all prepared as Trajan spoke and as he himself prepared. Arming themselves. Equipping themselves.

"For years, the College has conducted itself with reckless foolishness. With outright disregard for the safety and wellbeing of humanity. It has endangered not only this city but humanity has a whole, for it has maintained the abhorrent temerity to arm the xeno elf, the xeno dwarf, yes, brothers and sisters, even the xeno orc with the destructive capabilities of the arcane. But today, if we are so blessed, will be the accounting and the reckoning of their myriad sins, we solemn few gathered here the judges by which justice shall be dispensed."

Jerkins. Made of leather and appearing little more than mundane armor. Yet they were enchanted to absorb an amount of low-level magic directed at the wearer. Not much, but such might prove the difference between life and death.

"Do not burden your hearts with remorse for your coming actions, for the College is rife with complacents, sympathizers, and traitors against Mankind. They who would murder their own kin out of their misguided love of the xeno. Know without doubt or question that our cause is righteous, for those who have gone astray in the College imperil the family that loves you: your brothers and sisters that fight alongside you, your sons and daughters who depend upon you, indeed the greater whole of Humanity. Today, you fight not for yourselves, but for them."

Kha passed out the enchanted crystals to all of them. Devices of orange, rounded on one end and sharpened on the other, with a muted light swirling within. None of the Luminari would be taken alive if they could so help it, and if forced they would perish from Arethil not with a whimper but with a final, thunderous service to Mankind.

"Our lives are may yet be mortal and fleeting but the cause will live on, our dream unbroken, and in this we are blessed to touch that which is eternal. Ring your hearts in the wreath of its glory, that which today you will aid in bringing to being: the triumphant Human Spirit, which in the fullest of its blazes cannot be quelled and cannot be quenched! You will stoke that fire. You will be among the first to bask in its loving warmth! For if you are chosen to make the ultimate sacrifice today, believe, brothers and sisters, believe with the entirety of your almighty human soul that while you may die in the shadows, you will live forever in the light once the dream you helped create is made manifest!"

Crossbows. Exploding bolts. Swords. Daggers. More enchanted devices from Kha. Each man and woman of the Luminari would be as equipped as possible to face the scourge of the traitorous mages infesting the College. They were mostly mundane men and women, set to face off against they who commanded the arcane. They would aid the unknown force attacking the College if the opportunity was prime, and, if fortune smiled upon them, they would ensure the College's downfall.

And last, Trajan and every member of the Luminari donned stolen and counterfeit College robes. Those of students, professors. A manner of camouflage as they would enter and get into positions best suited to the situation. The unknown force did not know that they'd an ally in the Luminari, so caution would be their necessary watchword.

All the faithful prepared now.

And Trajan stood before them and shouted, "Never given!"

And they in return: "Always earned!"

Trajan took up his warhammer, the Emblazoned Sun, and turned. Said, "Let us proceed."

In small and staggered groups they left the dockside warehouse and walked through the streets of Elbion. They all made their way confidently, as if guided by providence, toward the College grounds.
 
The sounds of people screaming fleeing at the sight of the "masked man" who invaded the College. Willis brain began racking on the possible suspects while he sprinted through the hallways. Many teenagers were being lead by two of Philippa's Gargoyles petrified at what was going on. It wasn't five seconds since the explosion and already half the school was burning. Is a cult finally making a move? Did they gain access to Fabien's black powder something he's been bragging about for weeks.

But with the attackers description Willis couldn't shake the feeling that the person was familiar. He shook it aside though impossible Gerra would never do something like this. Doing so will be a tantamount to war between his nation and Elbion. Gerra wanted peace right? He was supposed to be a capable and wise person like Achates told Willis right? Willis was halfway to where the explosion carefully evading the panicking students fleeing until he stumbled upon a familiar person cowering against the wall.

An Owl.

"Kikwi!" Willis rushed towards him kneeling down next to him. One of Willis' closest friends, he and Kikwi went on some unusual adventures in Savannah and Elbion. Strangely Willis and Kikwi became close friends despite having nothing in common.

"It's me Willis!" The young man picked Kikwi up and placed him on his feet. His feathers felt spiky and sharp no doubt a defense mechanism whenever he's scared. "What's going on?! Who's attacking?!"

A large explosion erupted outside the College causing the building shake a bit. Grinding his teeth, Willis picked up Kikwi and ran to the Room of Scrolls slamming the door behind him. "You okay?" Willis asked placing the Owl on the table.

Kikwi
 
Kikwi's senses were starting the get overwhelmed. The explosions and screaming flooded his sensitive ears, and there was so much movement that his eyes began to blur. He stayed where he was, frozen in fear.

He thought of home, the safe, quiet woods. He had wanted to leave so badly, to see the world and all of its creatures. Had he been a fool? The outside world was dangerous, and he was so very, very small. He had pushed on before... could he do it this time?

"Kikwi!"

He opened his eyes, looking up at the man that stood before him. It took a moment for him to focus after he was placed on his feet. He blinked, took in the face.

"Willis!" he yelped. Immediately he clung to the familiar person.

"I... I don't know what's going on!" he answered, having to yell over the noise in the hall. "I was reading a book and... and..."

Another boom, and he was swept up by strong arms. The Room of Scrolls was, mercifully, quieter. Kikwi was able to focus better in here, and he stood shakily on the table.

"You okay?"

"Y-yes... yes I think so." He took a few quick breaths, albeit deep ones for him. One word from Willis had stood out, and he pondered it now.

"Are we being attacked?" Now that he thought about it, that made the most sense. How else would so much chaos befall such a great institution? He had to admit that he was very concerned by the panic he saw. He would have thought that a place so grand would have no problem deflecting any threat... right?

Still, being with Willis made him feel much better. They had outsmarted monsters before, surely they could do it again.
 
Chad told some of the magical sword students to arm themselves with their swords, or grab the practice swords he keeps in the back. They were to however not act unless he told them to before hand. He had the mages specializing in long ranged magic to hide on the upper levels of the library ready to shoot from the banister, well within cover, if need be. He mixed those specializing in buffs into two groups one third would stay on the lower floor to support the close combatants, and the rest would move to the higher floor to support the snipers. Conjurers would hide in the depths of the library ready to summon reinforcements. He had each group move desks and bookcases into temporary shelters, and barricaded for the students.

Chadwick sighed deeply, he knew that as soon as the were met with real combat everything would descend into hell. This was true to the best trained soldiers, and was all the more true with terrified, untrained students who had seen nothing more than the inside of a classroom. Still he had to hope that this would help the students, or at the very least make them feel safer.

Still in the door way he stood bringing in all he could, while raking his brain for even one more enchantment that he could lay on the doorway.
 
As Alistair shielded the young girl from the blast, she reached down and cried for the small kitten that had escaped her grasp. She wasn't running like he had told her to, and instead, stayed right behind him. He had already let his master die, he didn't want to let a young girl die because of him. The cat urged her to run, and seemed to have more common sense than the girl. The cat chastised him for breaking the protection wards, and Alistair spun around and glared.

"If it wasn't for me, you would have been incinerated!" He barked.

The young girl picked up the cat and shoved it into her hood, still maintaining her stance behind Alistair and refusing to move.

The charred, disfigured man emerged from the steam. As he raised his hand, Alistair stood in front of the young girl, shielding her from whatever terror he was about to cast. Drawing the moisture in the air to him, he prepared to conjure it, when the man's spell combusted before his hand and threw him backwards into the rubble. The young girl tried her best to defend them by throwing a spell into the air, casting a wall of ice. The ice would have melted from the fire, but it was useful to Alistair.

"Thanks!" He called out, then lunged forward, pulling the water from the ice and melting it. It collapsed in a torrent of water, which drenched the man and put put the flames before them. Steam hissed, shrouding the charred figure in a bed of moisture.

The young girl asked who the man was, and Alistair's heart sank into the pit of his stomach. A hand held out, he shielded her from him, his eyes narrowing as he walked forward.

"He's my master," he uttered, before his voice trailed off.

"Was..."

Drawing the moisture in the air to him, Alistair walked forward, approaching Sparhawk as he rose from the rubble. What had Gerra done to him? Whoever this was in front of him, it wasn't the Maho he knew. He had been distorted, corrupted beyond reason and turned into a monster. Alistair knew he would destroy the college if he let him walk away, but he didn't have it in his heart to kill him. Even if his visage was mangled, his presence remained the same and Alistair still recognized the voice that had called out to him when he had been incinerated by the fireball.

A pause held the air, disrupted only by the hiss of steam and the screams of the college students as they fled for their lives.

Alistair walked forward, the space between him and Sparhawk dispersing. He stared him down, eyes of sapphire blue meeting the raging inferno of Sparhawk's red irises. He held out a hand, keeping the young girl and the cat behind him as he continued to walk.

He stopped in front of Sparhawk. There was a few meters between them, but it was still close enough to allow Alistair to see the charred, painful mess of his skin in detail. As he stared him down, Alistair's features hardened. Anger boiled within his chest as he struggled to contain his rage towards what Sparhawk had done, and what Gerra had done to him to drive him to commit such crimes.

"Stay where you are," he threatened, "I won't let you kill my friends." The words were strong and commanding, like those of a battle mage wise beyond his years.
 
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Kikwi was more confused about the attacked than Willis was. "I don't know," he replied walking towards the door and pressing his ear against it. There were still screams of students outside along with more explosions. "According to the fleeing students," Willis muttered. "They said it was a masked man who is a master of pyromagic."

It couldn't be Maho could it? Why the fuck would Maho attack the College he dedicated his life to? Why betray his friends, his colleagues? It didn't make any sense. "Gerra," Willis growled to himself. "What the fuck did he do to Maho?"

It was most likely Jerrick, Gerra's right hand man. When he was still in the Savannah Desert, Willis took on Monster Hunting contract from Gerra. He was to slay an ancient elemental dweller who once was created by the Sand Elves. Jerrick was a man of a few words and possesses phenomenal magical ability specifically fire magic. Willis wondered what drove Jerrick to be bloodthirsty, the way he took out the Knights of The Fallen who set up a camp reducing knight into cinders.

Willis remembered the screams of the charred Knights boiling in their armor. The Knights of The Fallen were self-important bigots but they didn't deserve the fate that Jerrick gave them. Willis clenched his fists as he turned to the scrolls trying to see what can be useful. Fireball spell? Too basic. A few scrolls containing water spells will be excellent. Willis began collecting 5 of them, placing them in his little black bag. "Kikwi," Willis said. "I'm going to handle what's attacking the College. I need you to stay here and wait for me!"

They likely lost students to the fires and whoever is attacking is likely heading to the dorm rooms where most of the students are. There was no way Willis was going to run this time, he did it when he chose run away with Claire instead of helping out when the City of Elbion was set on fire. Willis won't do that again, he will not abandon his friends the people he called a family. ZafiraJade , Kikwi , Alistair Wren , Thane Jackdaw , Daisya and his potential wife: Phillipa Ebonheart. As long as Willis is alive, he will sacrifice anything to ensure their safety.

Willis took some summoning scrolls as well. The best part about scrolls is that they don't require magic to use them some of these monsters he saw could be a big help during the fight against whoever it was. A War Door Shield lay against the wooden table it was adorned with sparking, glowing gems indicating that it was infused with magical resistance. Smirking, Willis took the shield and wrapped around his back he's not much of a sword and shield person but at least it'll protect Willis from missile attacks.

"Find a place to hide here," Willis said stuffing the last of magical scrolls in his bag. "I'll be back I promise you Kikwi," the young man placed a hand on the Owl's feathered head patting it for a bit before smiling. "Shit Kikwi," he muttered. "You look ten times more knowledgeable than when I first met you. You've been absorbing those books like a Flail Snail absorbs the nutrients on the ground."

Standing up Willis sighed and took one last look at Kikwi before running outside to face the threat. Though Willis had a feeling who it really was.
 
Ash and smoke filtered into the sky, rising up like a great sheet darkening the sunlight that peered down through the clouds. The scent of fire licking wood and stone, mixing with the smell of the great bay in the Cairou river Elbion sat on. But it was the screams that made the chaos so real.

In all the chaos, security was very preoccupied, unable to sit guarding the grounds to keep the riff-raff out, though admittedly there weren’t going to be swarms of people running towards the firestorm. Just the brave or the foolish, and Ash was usually both.

Clutching her red jacket around her waist, she ducked through the gates to the college’s courtyard, stooping to help a boy a bit younger than she up from the ground. He was burned along the right side of his face and chest, black soot covering his shirt as she lifted him under the left arm. Ash held her hand to his face, whispering a simple word of power under her breath. The boy breathed a sigh of relief as the magic coursed onto his wound. “On your way, get to safety and then get someone to look at those burns hun.” Ash grunted, helping push him along. The spell wouldn’t help heal him in the least, doing nothing but assuaging the pain for a few moments of relief, hopefully long enough for him to get out of danger and to an apothecary. Maybe someone from the city was rallying doctors and a fire brigade somewhere?

Another student was lying nearby, deader than a doornail. Ash frowned, but knelt by the corpse, acting as if she was checking on the burnt body for vitals, while lifting a small purse filled with cheap components supplied by the school and a few odd coins, not even a whole docatto. The desert girl shrugged her shoulders, and moved away from the body without a second thought, keeping low and dropping her hat to the ground. She'd steal another one if it got lost or burnt.

Her gold eyes watched people run by her while Ash moved to hug the wall and skirt the heart of the chaos. She was brave, but not stupid enough to think her magic tricks or blade was going to put an end to all this. <Don’t worry about it too much, whoever it is is probably blowing through years of their life to fuel magic of this scale.> There were probably innocent people trapped she could help out without having to get directly involved.

Ashara ducked under a bit of rubble, eyes scanning for which building she should make her priority. “If I were a library, where would I be?
 

Like the proverbial moth to the flame, or a spellthief to a spell in this instance, the figure of Eren Damar made a recklessly fast approach across the rooftops towards the college. Her initial stealth gradually fading as the magic maelstrom ahead began to intensify and thicken, with carefully chosen footfalls turning into a breakneck speed that saw her leap from one slanted tiled platform to the next until eventually she was forced to relinquish the high ground and take it to the streets themselves.

A feat perhaps easier said then done with the seemingly chaos below, with the streets alive with no end of panicked souls attempting to flee to safety. It seemed that no sooner had she picked a spot to descend, it was washed away by the sentient sea until she eventually she just resolved to risk it. Launching herself at the first open opportunity that presented itself...

... And almost colliding with a burly, grizzled silver mountain of a man in the process, with only a last minute catch of the guttering saved herself from barreling feet first into the warrior. A look of shock, confusion and just a little bit of outrage creasing her features as she hung precariously less than a foot away from his face. The rusted guttering groaned a protest her shoulder sympathized with.

Think fast, Eren. Think of something clever to say.

"...Hey, there."

Perfect. There's dazzling witty repartee for you.

There was a beat. A drawn out second of pregnant silence that seemed to stretch out an awkward eternity - at least in Eren's mind - before she released her makeshift hold on the faltering guttering, dropping to the floor with more catlike grace than she necessarily felt she had right now.

"Good news, the rooftops are safe." Another beat, another awkward attempt at a smile and another even worse second attempt at a witty rejoinder. "You're, uh, welcome?"

With that she patted him roughly on the shoulder before turning, attempting to vanish into the crowd only to find now it was gradually thinning. Balls. At least the College wasn't too far now. Just another twisted corner and those all too familiar walls would be insight. From her former days in the establishment, she had mapped out more than few discrete ways past those wards... Most shut down since then, but there should be at least one or two still viable. They'd bring her closure to the action than she had initially intended, but even possible certain death was more preferable to the current situation.

She glanced over her shoulder at the warrior, the awkward smile turning into an awkward grimace (smimace?) before she gave a small half salute and simply began pegging it down the street at a pace that would shame even her earlier breakneck speed.
 
Eren Damar

"Hngh." Thane grumbled when a woman nearly collided with him. He gave her a deadly stare while she tried to diffuse the awkward situation only to make it more awkward with Thane just gazing at her like a statue. It was safe to say both were hardly capable in the art of socializing. For all the black she donned, there was something oddly appealing to her appearance despite the nick in the bottom lip. She gave him an odd tap on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd and then he snapped! Two things struck him that stood out the most.

Pale Kavosh eyes and going at the opposite direction of the fleeing crowd, right towards the College.

No, you don't.

With an inexplicable, and rather stereotypical, predetermination about the woman's motivations, the monster hunter dashed after her like a juggernaut shoving away those not quick enough to move from his way. He couldn't let the mages do anymore damage to this city than they already had to.

"Get back here!" he growled as he hurried behind her.
 
College - Student Dorms

Whatever chaos was going on outside truly seemed to be working in her favor. She had made her way down from the tower and all the way to the main student Dorms without so much as a conversation.

Everyone was running scared, either heading outside towards the commotion or running away from it further into the school. Had she been a thief Maecey might have gone absolutely nuts in stealing everything that wasn't nailed down, but she figured it was best to leave as little trace as possible.

A few times as she made her way odd masked men waltzed passed her.

Each time she could not see their eyes, but as they stepped uniformly by her the Halfling could swear she could feel them staring into her very soul. Goosebumps ran up her spine, but the enchantment on her amulet seemed to hold and the men saw nothing of her true purpose.

All they saw was a halfling in a slightly too large robe heading in the same direction as every other fleeing students, teacher, and staff member.

Still, as she made her way towards the faculty housing she couldn't help but feel ill at ease.

This was too easy.
 
”The confidence of youth is a tricksome thing. Like the fires that burned through the college that morning, it is hot, vivacious, and dangerous. Yet it is oh so necessary for the continued growth of the individual. The flames burn away what was, and make room for what will be.

“So it is no coincidence that, when left in the scroll room and given very clear instructions to hide and protect myself, that the flames within me began to flicker and grow. Little Kikwi was burning away just as the very institution he had devoted the last three years to. What would emerge was as yet unknown, but the transformation had begun.”


-Excerpt from the memoirs of Maester Kikwi​



_____________________________________________



Stay. Hide. Protect yourself.

Willis gave him these instructions and left with a handful of scrolls, promising to take care of the problem.

Mental note: look up flail snails later.

After the door shut, Kikwi sat motionless. The deep booming had stopped, but he could still hear the flicker of flames and the snap of wooden beams breaking. People’s voices still muddled through the air in a great cacophony, impossible to pick out any individual one.

He looked around the room, turning his head in a slow arc while his body remained motionless on the table. It was small, and there were few potential hiding places. Aside from the table he was on, there were only a few desks he could crawl under. He may be able to hide behind some scrolls in their cubbies, but he didn’t much like the idea of shielding himself from fire with paper.

Something began to stir within him. It was something he had felt a handful of times before on his long journey, but it was still new and unfamiliar. This… feeling. He… he didn’t want to hide. He felt, somehow, much bigger than he was. His chest was full and his face hard and set. He wanted… to do…. something.

This was Elbion College. He had heard so many tales and worked so, so hard to get here. Whatever monster was attacking was no match for the might, the history, and the people of this place. He knew this to be true.

He hopped down from the table and scuttled over to a low shelf of scrolls. Willis had taken some of these to fight, so they must be useful. He couldn’t use magic, but at least he could deliver these to someone who could. He unfurled one and peered at it carefully. It was adorned with scores of runes and strange words. It bore a symbol of flames in deep, red ink.

No, there was enough fire here.

Putting the first scroll aside, Kikwi opened another from the floor. It seemed that the reverberations had caused some stacks to tumble, shuffling the papers together. This one was written in fine green ink, and bore symbols of many winged insects. It was also written in symbols that Kikwi could understand… basically.

He liked insects. He would keep this one.

Another scroll showed ocean waves, another twisting snakes. One was almost blank save for a single word written in black ink. He didn’t know what it was, but someone surely would. He had gathered six scrolls in all, and stuffed them messily into his deep, and now somewhat tattered, robes.

He dragged a stool to the door, and climbed on top of it.

“I’m sorry, Willis,” he whispered, “But I can be helpful, too.”

He turned the handle, and hopped down into the hallway. Most of the action seemed to be from the front gates. The people there would know what to do with the scrolls. Kikwi swallowed, mustered his courage, and ran forward.
 
The Elf could not immediately recall why he had returned to the College of Elbion. Attendance for his various classes was scant, he was not received particularly well by the general port oriented populace, and the bureaucracy of the Maesters left a terrible aftertaste in his mouth. Perhaps he had lost his love for traveling and wandering, far removed from his Eldership at Fal’Addas. Or perhaps, and much more likely, it had to do with engineering his way through the ways and means restrictions that held a stranglehold over import and export through Elbion. Elixirs and tinctures required very particular and precise ingredients. The transport of these valuable goods was made more efficient and safer by wind and water.

Ere had found that brigands had a much easier time with seasickness when they outright avoided the sea. His plans did not account for pirates and their ilk but it was a wager he was willing to make. Clapping the dusty tome shut, he decided that it was indeed export that had brought him back. The rattle and sway of a wagon along dusty trails was no place for his bottle ware and fragile flora.

Standing up, he stroked the responsive leaves of a Persicaria and it wilted in reverence. It was either that or in fear as a gargoyle trounced passed the Solarium, shaking the ground with its heavy steps. The glass plating of the small structure, adjacent to the college dorms, rattled and showered muted rays of green tint across the interior wooden table. Ere had not seen this sort of defense erected during his time of tutelage or mentorship but he was not naive. Nor was he blind. Smoke buffeted the once sunny sky, leaving precious few traces of sunlight in what he could only assume was a wake of unexpected circumstances.

Chaos was natural; it was a divine response to the clasp of fetters, emboldened and presented as modernity and control. Fire was a presentation of chaos and the risks associated with caring either too much or not enough. And it was natural.

But this fire wasn’t natural. The weight in his chest, the slow close of a vice grip around him, was all he needed to understand that there was a time and place for pacifism. And now wasn’t that time.

Reaching into his roughly stitched robes, ornamented with panels of wooden armor and various sprigs, he withdrew a charred doll and plopped it down on the table. It was scorched from previous encounters but clearly resembled a lifelike bear with patches of mange on its rump and forehead. Two lifeless anthracite eyes stared back towards the druid as he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.

Cáemm adhart, hen yn…” A green energy responded to the sotto voce statement. Emerald energy, streaked with mint and azure, gulped out from his palm and encapsulated the bear. A strong wind cut through the Solarium as Bellis, rare Dendrobium, and the wilted Persicaria began to curl in on themselves. Green turned to gray and life turned to ash as the energy, at once, sucked hard into the bear. For a few moments, only silence followed.

Slowly coming to a stand, the bear totem turned its polished pitch eyes to Ere. Offering his hand, the small doll crawled up Ere’s arm and sat down between two bonsai shoots on the druids pauldron. For any onlooker, the bear might have had the appearance that he was controlling the druid with the living shoots. Perhaps that wasn’t so far off.

“Just for a bit...Then you can rest again.” He murmured, looking towards the bear from the corner of his green gaze. Striding out of the Solarium, Ere gingerly closed the glass door behind him before heading along the cobble of the ward, towards the direction of all the noise.
 
The Apprentice...

As Alistair stared him down, the fragile ceiling above them crumbling down, hot-mist filling the air, he could feel the tension rise between them. Jerik knew he should have destroyed the city of Tel-Madu before coming here; completing the contract would have provided him enough power to wipe the floor with them. But with Alistair, he couldn't rise to that challenge. Not yet.

There was something undeniably heroic about the way he stood his ground, when everyone else chose to run. Protecting a girl no less.

"You need not be my Enemy Alistair. I am not as cruel and unforgiving as this College. Your betrayal of Maho Sparhawk is insignificant to me, as long as you do not stand in my way." He said, cold and feelingless.

Jerik held his hand out.

He could forgive him for everything. He could it, perhaps, in his heart to do just that. All he had to do, was take his hand.

Please. He thought to himself.

His guard was down, the glow around his body settled, like a fire deprived of fuel. He was vulnerable. He was putting his trust in Alistair's loyalty, no matter how naive Jerik was thinking.
 
Half a dozen burning smells scratched at Harrier's throat. She stumbled past a knot of students and caught the edge of their spell, a contained ice storm that left her shivering. The unfamiliar staff hummed in her grip and another spell tried to modulate the temperature around her.

A student -- human, male, Elbionese nobility -- glanced her way as his fingers worked the icy air. "Maester, your air-comfort spell is slowing our work. Can you...?"

Harrier drained the enchantment dry, sacrificing the staff's future usefulness except by virtue of its nature as a walking stick. The student nodded thanks and went back to fighting fire. Harrier considered siphoning the flame for future energy, but intent mattered if she wanted to stay fully secure in the First Law. She moved on. All the earnest young firefighters in the world wouldn't do much unless someone faced down the fire's origin.

A smoldering arch offered a decent albeit smoky view. Maho Sparhawk stood close to a younger man who reminded Harrier of a distant cousin. He might well be: her family had deep roots in Elbion and plenty of branches. No matter who he was, he'd stepped up to block Sparhawk's path...and monopolized the rogue pyromaniac's attention.

Harrier flicked out a hand. A small bundle flew toward Sparhawk's back: a dried-out secruyu lizard from the Bayou Garramarisma. In life its venom could paralyze a large man, stop his heart. It had been dead a while, or rather undead, which weakened the venom considerably.

Hardly a cataclysmic move on her part, but the lack of a magical 'tell' was worth it. For all Sparhawk's mage senses were concerned, Harrier might as well have thrown a beanbag.

An angry beanbag with extremely sharp little teeth.
 
WEST WALL


Dio loosed a few birds while the Luminari was on its approach through the city. And they returned, one after another, to report their findings seen from the sky, Dio's enchantments upon them allowing for an extremely narrow but nonetheless useful intelligence. The birds spoke in their broken one, two, or three word sentences.

Trajan could scarcely believe it at first. He thought the birds in error, the enchantments faulty or waning or otherwise in need of renewal. But no, each bird in its turn reported the same thing. And when Kilo the macaw landed on Dio's shoulder and reported and Dio relayed the report to Trajan, at last he accepted it.

A single man. The force attacking the College of Elbion was not some army nor monster nor anything Trajan would have expected. It was a single man.

He was, in a word, awestruck. What manner of Man were they dealing with here? What one Man had so gathered the courage and the will and the power to take on the most corrupt and insidious institution in all Liadain? By himself? This, done so blatantly and so openly, his bravery burning with the blaze of the afternoon sun. Trajan did not know this Man's motives nor did he pretend to. But should the College fall and be reformed for the glory of Mankind today, Trajan would see to it personally that this Man be remembered for all time when Humanity stood united at last, his selfless sacrifice never to be forgotten.

This Man. He would be a legend. A hero.

And it was Trajan's honor to assist him in this righteous cause.

* * * * *​

Trajan and his fellows did not go toward the front gates. No, they diverted in their course and went along the street adjacent the west wall of the College grounds. They would make their own entrance.

Trajan looked over his shoulder and eyed Clarissa and Dio, waving his finger in a spinning circular motion and then pointing to a large building on their left: the West Wall Theatre. Plays, shows, and performances would run most evenings here, capturing much of the College crowd as they sought a spot of escapism and a relaxing night. Now, it would prove an excellent vantage point. Claire could keep a lookout on the streets and have a workable view over the wall of the College and into the courtyard, and Dio could coordinate communication via his birds from the Theatre. Both of them nodded and broke off from the group and entered the building.

The Luminari gathered by a spot at the west wall. Up and down the street there wasn't a soul, the citizenry wise to give the College a wide berth once the attack had begun.

Kha reached under her College robes and into her satchel and pulled out a particular set of enchanted devices, chunks of lavastone etched with her magic. Stonecrackers, and a Blowback, she called them, and each had been costly to make, but nothing was to be spared in this endeavor.

She set three of the Stonecrackers onto the wall, applying sticky sap and attaching the lavastone devices. She activated them and hurriedly stepped away. Thin and intense sprays of corrosive acid were conjured and injected into the thick stone, the fury of the magic lasting but a few seconds; it looked, once finished, much like a piece sliced out of a cake.

But the piece still needed to be removed. Hence, the Blowback. Kha attached the lavastone device to the wall with the adhesive sap and activated it and everyone stood well and clear. A localized and destructive funnel of wind magic ripped the loose stone free, breaking it apart in several places, the debris pulled out into the street instead of pushed into the College grounds. It appeared as if someone were trying to break out instead of in.

"You know what to do," Trajan said to the men and women gathered by the breach. "Keep the faith. Godspeed."

None spoke. Some nodded, but none spoke. Now was their time.

They filtered in through the square breach in the wall, Trajan having to duck his head some to enter. They were in the grass alongside the west side of the massive College. His men and women, the believers in the cause, dispersed quietly, searching out entrances other than the burning and dangerous front of the structure. They had their disguises, they had their weapons, and if all else failed, they had their sacrificial crystals. They would move throughout the College in the disarray of the chaos, lie as needed about their presence and their purpose so as not to arouse suspicion as they searched. They knew how to strike: from corners, from doorways, from windows, hit-and-run, stay on the move, keep the mission in mind.

They would seek out the allies of the Luminari, and as well as those who were not strictly allied but known to harbor a favorable mindset, and shepherd them off the College grounds and to safety. But, more importantly, their primary mission was this:

The Kill List.

Seek out the sympathizers, the traitors, the xenos. Seek them out and be rid of them. Do so as clandestinely as possible, but do so. The reform of the College would come if they of treasonous intent were removed and replaced. The future of Mankind hung in the balance.

Trajan, along with Kha, set off with a specific plan in mind. They would move along the side of the College itself, toward the courtyard, and await any opportunity to shoot the defenders of the College in the back as they were preoccupied with the Man. His rampage would be assisted as covertly as was possible.

Trajan and Kha walked carefully, the architecture of the majestic College close by on their shared left side, the flames from the destroyed facade of the building ahead.
 
"The College is under attack!" A young elf girl ran through the dormitory and went through the hall. "The College is under attack! Maester Verik has told us to gather in the northern sparring grounds!" She continued, yelling as she went though. The shuffling of the students echoed throughout the wing as young mages shoved, locked and stuffed whatever they could and began to head toward the sparring grounds.

Garrick Knight however, prepared a spell and stealth and began to head to the western side of the building. With all the commotion, apparently related to the return of Maro Sparhawk of all people, few people would be looking for students not being where they were supposed to be. He noted a few other more conspicuous students sneaking to the battleground, aiming to become heroes or simply their mettle.

Garrick's intentions were far less noble and far more practical. Maester Therafault was a eager combatant always reminiscing about his military service, and had earned a reputation for giving grueling exams to his students. Garrick intended to sneak into his office as Therafault went to battle, bypass the wards around the exams, and create a copy. Not only would it help Garrick pass Battlemagic 321, it could also fetch quite a bit of coin in the future. The number of buyers would have to be managed of course, as he couldn't tip Therafault to his exploits, but Garrick could manage such things.

Therafault's office was at the western wall. Garrick moved with hurried legs, the better to reach his target quick. He stepped with quiet feet, to avoid the detection of those more experienced and killed. He wandered with watchful eyes, to find any who might find his activities less than scrupulous. What he did not expect was the sight of a wall being breached.

"Feth." Garrick cursed. He pulled out a crystal from his bag and closed his eyes a moment. His breathing stopped, and the crystal began to glow for a moment, then shattered into dust. A ward of blued light appeared in front of him, placing a seal between him and Trajan Meng's Lumanari. It was a basic ward, and wouldn't hold forever, but it would buy Garrick time. He needed to tell someone, anyone, that the attack was now on two fronts.
 
Quoril sat at a small round table near the back of the tavern, a small pile of books stacked haphazardly next to him. Another book, full of scribbled notes and various hand drawn diagrams, lay open before him. The elf idly tapped his pencil against a half finished list of potion reagents, their effects written next to each. Since early morning he had been working on an elixir to temporarily increase the amount of magical energy available to a mage. No luck so far.

He slowly began to sense that somebody was glaring at him from across the room. Quoril tried to ignore it, but after a few moments he got annoyed and raised his gaze from his book. A large bald man with a goatee and clad in leather armor was staring daggers at him. Quoril tried to remember if he had seen the man before and what he could have possibly done to wrong him.

BOOOOM! The elf’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a massive explosion. The windows in the tavern rattled along with the dishes that lay out on the tables and everyone in the tavern rose and crowded around the windows to see what was going on. Quoril got up from his seat like everybody else but instead of going to the windows, he picked up his books and quickly stuffed them into his large messenger bag. That explosion had sounded really bad and there were probably many injured people. The elf rushed out the door but not before pulling the hood of his cloak over his messy brown hair and pointed ears. The strange man who had been glaring at him had disappeared but Quoril didn't want to risk being immediately recognized by him if they crossed paths again. Once outside the tavern he froze. Somebody or something had blown a huge hole in the wall of the College. Shaking his head he headed toward the College.

Quoril wove his way towards the gates, through the stream of screaming people running in the opposite direction. He clambered over the rubble and landed in the College courtyard. What lay before him was one of the worst things he had ever seen. Everything in sight was on fire and the bodies of students lay strewn across the ground. And near the very back of the courtyard a young man stood off against a cloaked figure.

Not wanting to get caught up in whatever was going on between them, Quoril hugged what remained of the walls and moved towards the western side of the courtyard. He would need to find another way in if he wanted to help those still inside.
 
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"I saw the letter Alistair. I know the College wanted me dead in Ninagal. I saw what they made you do. I'll forgive you...Just..." There was pain in his voice.

His hand, the one that reached out to Alistair, began to shake with emotion; fear, pain, shock, suffering, he wasn't sure. But he trembled on the spot, like a petal in the wind.

"Take my hand..."

Alistair simply looked at him, shocked, but with the same, steadfast expression of a battle-mage, or a warrior rid of fear.

"TAKE IT!" He shouted.

In his distraction, he didn't notice the Necromancer Harrier, who had just thrown something at his back.

"Wha-" Whatever it was, it bit deeply into it's back with long, sharp teeth. He could feel it's venom enter his bloodstream. It seemed to fall off of his back, and scurry off somewhere. The venom wasn't all that powerful, but he could feel his body stiffen ever so slightly, as the poison travelled to all corners of his body. His hand, that once reached out to Alistair, dropped. His head tilted down, and in one, sudden moment, his entire body shook with it's own heat, and the glow he gave off seemed to light up the room, glimmering off the shining surface of the fallen stones.

Enough, Maho Sparhawk. Do not let yourself be held back by worldly emotions.
He could hear the voice of Imamu ring in the back of his mind. He had not heard it for quite some time, and his godly voice, no matter how conditioned to it he was, still struck Jerik.

He turned to face Harrier, just visible through the smog, and looked at him with those dark, red eyes.

Remember why you're here...

He turned back, facing Alistair once more.

Jerik simply stood there, an embered aura building around him, more and more as he stood there.

Come on, fight back Alistair. FIGHT BACK.
 
Location: Courtyard Between Solarium and Front Gates. Slowly approaching Harrier, Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk , Alistair Wren, Smiling One

Magical sources were infinite. A mage may predominantly pull from moisture in the air, a warlock may spend life energies of those around them, an alchemist may garnish the energy that composes the bindings between rock minerals, and a caster may draw power from blood and flesh. All for the production of magic that would have, otherwise, pulled from their own life energies. It was universally accepted that these reservoirs could satisfy the necessary exchange without unduly risking the life of the user. And it was also generally accepted that these reservoirs, while infinite in options, were finite in capacity. The same could not always be said of fire.

Amidst the sources of energy, fire was one of the most tantalizing and potentially the most dangerous. So dangerous that many Maesters forbade its draw by apprentices and students within Elbion. Some would argue that spiteful demons and deities lurked beneath the flames, tempting users to excess. Others were convinced that the pull from fire was unnatural, that the act would forcibly reduce the lifespan of any that were tempted by it. Yet for those who understood the power and temptation, and how to control those temptations, it provided an easy means of magic production. And, in this case, a way of reflecting the attacking efforts back against the assailant.

Ere lifted his hand to the walls of the College that lined the bailey, jutting out towards clay tiled roofing and brick and grout curtained walls. The fires were catching against the stone and while clearly the materials were not proper fuel for the flames, it was obvious that the flames were fueled by something else entirely. The heat that threatened to cook the walls, not unlike a massive kiln, cascaded towards the druids palm in ethereal tendrils of amber and orange. As the fire died back, he spied a young robed student running down the corridor carrying a massive tome. And there was an unfortunate loss of wall integrity that seemed to follow in her wake.

A stone balustrade, lining the second floor of the dormitories and once providing protection for those who wished to view the courtyard, crumbled and caved outwards. Ere ran headlong towards the girl and pressed the energized hand against his chest. The bear totem, using the pauldron sprigs, stood up and aimed its finger-less hands skyward.

The rubble smacked against the air above the druid and the girl likes stones cast against still water, rippling and deflecting outward. The girl had crouched defensively but once the threat had passed, Ere knelt and lifted her by the shoulders.

“That book will be your undoing, girl.”
“We must protect the knowledge.”
“Not if you die in the effort…”
“Knowledge must be protected!” She yelped in rebuttal, content to add very little to the conversation.

Ere smiled and looked down at the weighty book. “Ah yes. To Watch Pnemaria Turn: A scholars guide to the celestial bodies. Fourth Edition.” He shook his head and snatched the book from her grasp. “Hopefully if this book burns, we won’t forget about the moons above. Now run along child. I imagine classes are canceled for the foreseeable future.” He held up his free hand to prevent any riposte. “That wasn’t a request. Now!”

She did as he commanded and once she was out of sight, he tossed the book into the rubble. “Kermode…” He whispered as he began walking, lifting his hand to the nearby fires and drawing once more. The bear turned its eyes towards Ere. “Orisa tel'ehalaer…” The bear nodded and hugged one of the sprigs on the pauldron.

It began to grow.