Open Chronicles To Create is Divine. (Valenntenia)

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Rovias

The Black Rose
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The Ruins of Alidonia
The Eaglehead Peninsula




"Alidonia has fallen."

A large crowd had gathered in the main hall of Valenntenia's Tower. Guardians, Vanguard, and civilians alike had hoarded into the sacred building at the tragic news of what had happened to their neighboring city, a peaceful place settled only one peninsula away on the Eaglehead landmass. The Absalon, Solomon Regis, stood above them, a solemn look creasing his already old and weathered face as he relayed the grim reality.

"We've all felt the effects of the recent storms. Whatever is happening in the seas and skies has cursed us as of late with unprecedented shifts in the waters and the clouds, birthing lightning and waves mighty enough to threaten even our bastion of safety." Regis paced on the raised Dias, his hands locked behind his back as he scans the crowd with weary eyes. "Unfortunately, we've learned that only a week ago, a hellish storm made landfall upon our neighbors in Alidonia. At the peak of this maelstrom, they were assailed by a tsunami. As far as we know, the city is a total loss."

The room filled with gasps and murmurs, unrest and fear fueled by the confirmation that a place so near their beloved home had been wiped out entirely. Not by war, but the wrath of nature itself. The very nature that they served and protected as their birthright. Raising a fist to his mouth, Solomon gave a powerful cough, clearing his throat and regaining the attention of those in attendance.

"I likely don't have to tell you all, but Alidonia rests directly west of us. It's entirely likely that if the Eaglehead Peninsula not there to take the storm's wrath, it would have been us instead. Alidonia fell to ruin, so that we may remain. With this in mind, the Somners and I have convened, and come to a decision."

As Solomon spoke, a young, bronze-skinned man stepped up onto the raised platform, wrapped in a violet and gold robe. The jewelry on his face and ears glimmered against the light peeking through the Tower windows as he turned to stand beside Regis, his head bowed in respect to The Absalon. Solomon raises a hand, signaling for the High Mage Rovias to be at ease.

"Our esteemed High Mage will be taking several wagons of volunteers, both civilian and Vanguard, to the Alidonia ruins. These volunteers will be beginning the process of rebuilding Alidonia, restoring it to its former glory. It will be difficult work, and you may not see your homes again for many months. You will be revered though, for your sacrifice and service. The Ancients will smile upon you."

Solomon's gaze quickly focused on the several Guardians he spotted in attendance.

"And you will not be going alone. I am sending any available Guardians to Alidonia as well. They will be aiding in the reconstruction with the power of their Runestones, but they are also being tasked with investigating the source of these increasingly violent storms. This is an official assignment, Guardians."



The first time he'd been allowed outside of the city in what felt like ages, and the sun wouldn't even peek through the clouds to kiss his skin. He'd known himself to be unlucky, but this surpassed even Rovias's expectations. Still, considering what he and the several wagons full of Valenntenians behind him were heading towards, he supposed it was rather uncouth to bemoan his own fortune. The place they now neared had fared far worse. And unlike Rovias, they'd had no chance to save themselves.

He could see it now; the jagged and broken remains of Alidonia's outer wall. Only a month prior, Rovias would have scoffed at the idea of a storm or tsunami ripping apart a stone wall, but there was nothing natural about the rage that the sky had been displaying so openly as of late. Loathe as he was to place his faith in The Guardians, even Rovais had to admit fear for Valenntenia's future should they not find a cause for this madness.

Reaching for the hollowed steer horn hanging from his horse's saddle, he brought it to his lips and blew, filling the air with a loud and booming howl. "Naptime is over, everyone! Ready up! We're at our destination in three minutes!" Rovias shouted back to the carts behind him as loud as he could, ignoring the brief shot of pain in his lungs. The trip had been exhausting, but now the real work began. The High Mage had to wonder how many of them were actually prepared for it.

As the caravan passed through what had once been the city gates and reached the top of the hill that overlooked Alidonia, Rovias felt a sickening sensation in his stomach, as though the entire contents of his chest had fallen into his gut.

"By the ancients..."

The sight was absolutely gruesome to behold; not a single building was left intact. Homes had been uprooted completely, left askew or in tattered pieces along the road. Holy sites, temples, and graveyards had been left as little more than black marks in the fields, the resting places of the departed scattered with rubbled tombstones and splintered wood. Deep puddles of stormwater now sat stagnant and still in low divots in the ground, discolored from dirt and blood, as stray bodies tossed carelessly by the winds dotted the remains of their neighboring settlement.

Clenching his teeth to bite back the disgust bubbling in his throat, he raised a hand to the caravan at his rear and called back.

"Guardians and Vanguard take the point. We move in when they've ensured safety."
 
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Sitting in the back of a wagon, Tyna felt its wheels stumbling over rocks shattered by tidal waves and wind, thunderously shaking the vehicle. The storm would never truly subside so long as its scars still marred the land. Such rage couldn't be quelled merely by the passage of time.

She surveyed the destruction before her. She hadn't imagined something so devastating, so destructive, to be possible. Even marauders burning down a city couldn't cause a collapse on this scale. It was devoid of any living souls, but calling it a ghost town was wrong- you needed a town for that. Splintered wood and vaguely temple-shaped holes didn't qualify for that.

Her eyes fell upon the corpses scattered everywhere and she retched, turning even greener than usual. As a soldier, she was supposed to get used to dead bodies, but seeing these people slaughtered by a force that was incapable of even registering their existence was almost too much for her to bear. This was all so pointless.

While she was mortified that this tragedy had happened in the first place, she was also overjoyed that she had been able to volunteer to help clean up the mess. It meant she would be away from her home for potentially months. Not being in Valenntenia was well worth the nausea and horrific sights. Well, hopefully it would be. She had to fight to keep her lunch down when she noticed a particularly gruesome death scene. Her lingering guilt from her excitement about this cataclysm certainly didn't settle her upset stomach.

But she was finally allowed to stop fighting. Here, no one could make her spar. They couldn't push her to attack, to hurt, to kill. Now, she could put her talents to use exactly how she wished. It would do a lot more good for the world if she could use her strength to rebuild fallen homes rather than fight. Plus, this was where the Guardians were. She didn't get to see them very often, but she watched their every movement when she did. There was nothing she wanted more than to join them. She had to prove that she was worthy of such an honor first, however, and that meant she had to build the best damn houses there ever were.

She hopped off of the wagon and jogged over towards the front of the caravan, heeding the High Mage's instructions. She hoped that one of the Guardians would stand near her; that'd be really cool. She wasn't particularly worried about encountering any threats aside from unstable structures- there was no way anything could've survived this calamity.
 
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Regrettably, Ingrid had been kept close to home as of late. This meant that she had the utter joy to accept every mission that Solomon threw at the Guardians. It was more practice for the things she and Rhenn had been working on, it was good for her. She could almost feel Solomon's eyes burning into hers while he gave his speech, and she remembered the letter he had written to her not that long ago.

Clutching her stone as the wagon rattled beneath her, she grew progressively vexed. She should have been far from here, but the man she had once idolized trapped her here with a man she would never fully trust. She felt the power of her stone would easily pull him in, with a blade pointed right between her shoulder blades.

The wagon slowed to a stop, and she hopped off to see what the fuss was. Ah, so they had finally reached their destination. Before she had the chance to press forward, the bugle of a horn and the words of the high mage graced their ears. To the front then.

Ingrid cast her eyes upon the destruction the storms had caused, though it did not upset her as it did those around her. She remained rather unfazed at the littered bodies strewn and bloodied before them. Perhaps, before taking Disease, it may have bothered her, may have made her lose her lunch. Instead, she simply took her place as requested. "This is going to take forever."
 
"There's another one over here!"

Mordred was exhausted. In fact, he was fairly certain his exhaustion had exhaustion. How long had they been digging in the rubble for the few souls who still clung to life? When news had reached Valenntenia of the tsunami that had ravaged one of their closest neighbours, Mor had not waited for an order from Solomon. His duty as a Doctor and Guardian was to tend to those that needed aid. The young Villam Regis surprisingly had had the same apparently thought as the Blood Guardian for he had hailed him on the road not long after leaving the city's gates. Together they had been two of the first to come upon the ruined city.

The people of nearby villagers had poured in to help first and Regis was quick to split them into two groups; those who could help in the medic bays, reunite separated families, keep a log of the missing -- and those who could dig. It was the second group that Mordred ended up taking command of. His gifts made him far superior to any of the sniffer dogs that had been brought to assist. He directed teams to spots where he could still hear the faint beats of hearts beneath the rubble of what had been homes, places of work, or even worship.

He was so tired of listening to those hearts stop.

It took time to dig and ensure they would not bring down more of the houses atop them and more often than not the trapped souls had passed before their bodies could be pulled from the wreckage. It was maddening. His own personal hell he was grateful nobody else could feel or hear.

He had been standing near what had once been a school when his stone had heated, the whisper of blood still beating in a body tugging him to the spot. He shoved aside the crumpled remains of school supplies and desks and the pulse grew stronger. A child. A child lived still.

"DIGGERS! WE NEED DIGGERS OVER HERE!" he shouted to anyone nearby as he began pulling some of the large brick and stone off the hole in which he could hear that heart beat... beat... beat.
 
Solomon hadn't thought him up to a mission of this solemness but Ayden argued that levity was needed all the more. On the trip over his distracting antics might have even gotten Ingrid Bohnes's to smile. Smile as in not frown. Okay, okay, perhaps her lips just stayed in a neutral position but in Ayden's book it was considered a win.

The boy who could fly was hovering over their little group as Tyna Blun shuffled out ahead with the vanguard. The wind currents around here felt...different. He couldn't really explain it. He wished Stella was here. Then the high mage barked out some orders but Ayden was never good at following them. From his vantage point above the destruction, he saw a small group of huddled kids who looked like they'd just gotten pulled from the rubble.

Ayden landed lightly beside them. "Oy. Want to see a cool trick?"

A little girl looked up with watery eyes and a haunted look in her face as Ayden took out a small folded paper Pegasus and floated it over to her. "I think it needs a name whaddyah think?" The girl outstretched her palm after a long moment's hesitation as the paper toy landed on her fingers then floated upward and twirled around her face. The one or two other children began gathering around Ayden.

Clothed in heaviness and shock but now they had something else to watch rather than the bodies being dug from the earth.
 
Even to one so notoriously stoic as Villam, the news of what had befallen Alidonia had left him stricken and speechless. The Passion Guardian had known of the increasingly violent storms that had been ravaging the seas around them as of late, but to tear an entire city asunder, for Alidonia to be swallowed by the seas... Truly, Faylea had lost her mercy.

Mordred had relayed the news to him as he departed Valenntenia after a short trip to the shoreline, assessing damage to the Vanguard's Naval Fleet by the very same storm system. He did not need to consult his Father to know what the old man would do, and diverted to accompany the Blood Guardian immediately. The longer they took, the more lives would be lost in the remains.

Regis was also sure to send the handful of men who'd been with him to the city to inform Vazia Ferreira of his whereabouts; He was meant to meet her for some time spent alone this evening, and she would worry when he absconded from the arrangement. With luck, she would show up in Alindor as well. They would need as many hands as they could gather for what lie ahead.

Thus far, the outlook on how many souls they could save had been grim. Mordred was doing his very best to extract as many from the wreckage as possible, but with only a few hands to help them, and some of those needed to keep things organized and prevent panic, Villam could see the building frustration on his fellow Guardian's face.

He couldn't blame him; Villam too felt the weight of death on his shoulders as he watched the makeshift medical bays fill with bodies barely clinging to life, people succumbing to their wounds faster than Mordred or the others could help them. What pained him more was his own helplessness; Mordred was a healer, but Villam could only ease their suffering as they passed, clouding their minds with positive thoughts and happy delusions to distract them from their looming fate.

"DIGGERS! WE NEED DIGGERS OVER HERE!"

Villam's attention was pulled from the wounded he tended to, a young woman who was lucky enough to only have one crushed leg, and who wasn't in serious danger of death, so long as she was transported to Valenntenia in time. Mordred had found life, he assumed. quickly pulling his gloves on, Regis rushed to his comrade's side, only moments before the horn signaling the arrival of the reinforcements from Valenntenia filled the air.

"Looks like the Old Man's help is finally here." He grunted to Mordred as he tossed aside brick after brick, only briefly looking over in their direction. "Ancients, I've never been so happy to see Ayden. He'll make moving this rubble much easier."
 
Right as she made it to the front of the caravan, Tyna saw something that nearly stopped her in her tracks. Survivors. People had somehow managed to weather the storm. She hadn't thought living through such a calamity to be possible. She should've been happy to see that there were some who still lived, but she couldn't muster up a speck of joy. Not when it seemed as if there was none to be found within anyone.

A young child was standing alone, his face covered in dust streaked with tears. A man leaned against a wall with red-soaked bandages concealing where his arm had been severed, his face twisted into a mask of agony. A woman sat staring blankly forwards, a teenager saying something to her and getting no response. They were all hurting so badly. Seeing their pain drove the tragedy home even more than the dead bodies did.

She then heard someone yelling.

"DIGGERS! WE NEED DIGGERS OVER HERE!"

The voice sounded panicked, urgent. No one would be that hurried to merely clean up a mess. That meant life was on the line. It didn't take her more than a half-second to make the decision to abandon her post; the purpose of the Vanguard taking point was to ensure the safety of the civilians. This was exactly that, albeit not the implied definition.

Tyna dashed over to the source of the noise, her stumbling pace morphing into a dead sprint, armor clanking with each heavy bound. Not taking the time to register the faces of those clearing the rubble as she skidded to a stop, she quickly began lifting away the debris. Broken bricks were like papier mache in her hands as she tossed them away. She soon reached a particularly large slab of stone. It was far too heavy to toss away, even for someone built like Tyna. Instead, she shifted into a lower stance just underneath the edge of the slab, braced herself, then heaved upwards. She was stronger than she was fast; it would be best to let others quicker than her handle the remaining individual pieces of debris.

The pile of a broken building was precarious enough that she worried moving the stone any more would cause it to collapse. All she could do was maintain a gap large enough for someone to get under. So, she simply stood there, teeth gritted against the weight that felt like it was going to snap her in half. Since she was forced to face away from the digsite, she couldn't see what was under it. Hopefully they'd get the person out in time.

Mordred
Villam Regis
 
The Lower City had borne the brunt of the storm, and that was saying something. 'Ancients preserve us, there's barely anything left!' Standing in the middle of what had once been a junction, their cloaks drenched, hoods raised against the constant drizzle, the scouts accompanying Mabbon stared in stark disbelief at the destruction surrounding them. 'It's like... it's like... I don't know what it's like!'

'I can't believe it's all gone. The entire city, everyone in it, just... gone.'

'Which way do we go? The street's out.'

'Collapsed, meaning.' Grimacing behind his mask, Scout-sergeant Tomas shook his head. He had seen a lot of bad shit in his time. Twenty years service with the Vanguard had numbed him to most of it. But this... this was different. 'A whole 'nother scale, what we're seeing here.' Indeed, the junction they were standing in could no longer be called such. The storm had blown through here with a-fury, picking up the businesses and residential buildings and scattering them to the winds like so much chaff.

And the bodies...

'Let's backtrack. Jan, put a marker on the lamppost over there so that the salvage and rescue teams know not to bother.' Blinking back the tears in their eyes, the scouts turned to obey the Guardian's command. Tomas turned with them, a moment behind.

Taking the scout-sergeant by the shoulder, Mabbon steered him away from the group. 'There a problem, Tom?' He asked, knowing he had chosen his words poorly. 'If you want to head back up the line-'


'No! No, Ser! No need for that. It's just...'

Mabbon nodded. He knew what the man was feeling, could even hazard a guess as to what he was thinking. 'Can't say I've ever seen anything quite like it.' Letting go of Tomas's shoulder, Mabbon stared out over the sunken street, his nose wrinkling at the smell of rot and decay in the air. Bodies lay strewn in unassuming places. Bloated, picked at by scavengers...

Torn apart, dashed about. Shit...

'Nothing we can do for them now but see to it that they receive a proper burial. That, and tend to those that did survive.' Nodding, the scout sniffed, took a moment to compose himself. 'No point dwelling on the fact, I s'pose.' Straightening up, he forced a smile he didn't feel. Mabbon was quick to look away.


'Guess we'd better be about it, ey? Wasting daylight stood around here.'

'That we are. Let's move out!'
 
The High Mage looked on with the twisted lips of disgust affixed to his face as the Guardians did what they did better than anyone else: Deliver hope to an impossible scenario. Already they'd begun, setting up medical camps and extraction teams before the caravan even arrived.

Now Ayden of the Air sought to ease the minds of the weary and frightened with his antics, Ingrid of Disease steeled herself in preparation for the work that promised to follow, and Mabbon of the Dark set off for the lower district, the place most ravaged and torn asunder by the waters.

Rovias held a disdain for them, these wielders of the Stone, but he could not help but respect their unyielding will. Stubborn in the face of death and despair to the very end... A trait he thought himself to share with them.

In another time... in another place.

But Rovias would do no good to anybody merely sitting atop the hill and gawking at the wasteland that had been left behind of Alidonia. Just as every Guardian and every Vanguard had their part in salvaging whatever could be saved, so too did The High Mage hold a role in this recovery.

Looking back to the remaining volunteers, now only civilians and labor workers who had willingly taken up the responsibility of aiding their neighbors, Rovias nods and motions for them to disembark.

"Begin unloading the supplies, we'll be storing them in the Medical camps. When you're finished, report to Guardian Fórn."

The young mage felt the crackle of power spark across every bone in his body as he dismounted his horse, hitching it to a tree as the Valenntenians began to pull crate after crate of goods from the wagons. Food, medicine, water, clothing, and just in case, weapons were all packed into clearly marked containers now being carried by faithful and able-bodied Descendants down the hill and into the massacre of nature.

Rovias led the way, sneering down at a visceral pool of blood mixed with water, corpses floating on the surface. The Guardians had simply trudged through it or around it, but he would not have such disrespect placed upon the departed.

"Aquas, Elqor malmas!" The incantation seethed from his lips towards the carnage, his hands taking on a violet glow as the bloodied waters gathered up into a sphere and rose from the pit at Rovias' command. With a flick of his wrist towards the sea, the gathered water flung itself far off and away, until it returned to the ocean that had swallowed so much already.

The corpses remained, and with another, more muted spell, Rovias arranged them neatly, pulling the gold and chestnut coat from his back and laying it across them.

"When you've a moment..." Rovias stopped a passing civilian and made a gentle request, "Take them to the others, so they are not lost. I'm headed to the lower city to assist Guardian Dreierg

Mabbon and the few Vanguard accompanying him would need all of the assistance they could get, and Rovias wasted no further time in heading there, save for raising a few piles of rubble with his magic along his path, ensuring he left no stone that he came across unturned.

"Ser Mabbon! Ser Tomas!" He called out to them as he descended into the dank, death-reeking shallows that remained of the lower city. "If we're to clear this area, you'll have need of me. We'll clear these roads of dead, and check the rubble for those who cling to life."

Looking towards the sunken roads and small lakes that had formed in low indents of earth, The High Mage's expression hardened.

"I will deal with the flooding."

Mabbon Dreierg
 
Vaima looked down upon the city and felt sick. Here, there was a slight increase in power behind each of her steps. The heavy canteen of water she kept strapped to her hip had gotten a tad lighter. Normally, she'd have loved this. It always was invigorating to be near water, even in smaller quantities like this. But this water was not supposed to be here.

Oceans weren't particularly calm entities. They tended to get boisterous, agitated, even furious, sometimes. That was natural. Everything got angry. The sea wasn't murderous, though. Even its occasional attacks on land didn't cause destruction on this scale. It was... uncharacteristic. This was too targeted. At least the Absalon seemed to have similar suspicious; he'd sent them to investigate the cause of whatever this really was.

She could almost feel the corpses floating in the stagnant water. Vaima dreaded getting closer. She knew that only bloated death would be found ahead. There was a reason she was here, however. Guardians were supposed to help with this sort of stuff. She in particular was suited for this task. That didn't mean she wasn't still deeply disturbed.

Vaima took a deep breath and started to enter the city. Once she got within a few feet of the ruined entrance, she noticed the rotting bodies littering the ground and battered survivors nursing horrific injuries. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath, trying to shove down her unease. That didn't work very well, so she uncorked her canteen and dumped some water on her head.

The clean water helped fortify her in a way that wasn't sickening. It was a temporary solution, but she'd worry about that later. Hopefully by the time she dried off she would get used to the horrors. Nerves now properly steeled, she entered what had once been Alidonia.

She noticed the new High Mage, Rovias, fling a sphere of bloody water into the distance then head into the lower city. Vaima immediately made a beeline towards him. She'd been practicing for something like this. Well, not this, but she had been teaching herself some relevant skills. Large puddles of water were easy to move- their size gave her a bigger target to grab. Hopefully some of the waters would be less corpsey where the mage was headed.

As she approached, she looked around and noticed Mabbon Dreierg. She nodded to the half-orc in greeting. He seemed nice, but she hadn't gotten to know him too well yet. She'd done a pretty poor job of getting to know any of the Guardians yet, to be honest. A guy she was pretty sure was named Tomas stood nearby, and she nodded to him too.

Vaima caught up to Rovias quite quickly despite being rather far away when she'd first spotted him. Her ability to speed walk was boosted here, especially now that she'd dumped water on herself. She waited for him to finish his conversation with Mabbon. Truth be told, she was worried that she'd start spewing her lunch if she opened her mouth.

Rovias

Mabbon Dreierg
 
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Adrenaline fuelled Mordred as he kept hurling rocks and debris out of the way. The rune pulsed, pulsed, pulsed against his chest. Not in time with his heartbeat but rather the beat of the child who lay beneath the earth. As they removed more Mor could even hear a faint cry for help muffled by the earth.

"We're coming, we can hear you! Save your air," he called. The child stopped screaming but they could still hear the sobbing. Eventually they reached a thick slab of rock which must have once been a part of the schools upper floor. It must have come down directly on the children in this classroom. Mor tried not to picture what that must have been like, the fear these children had felt before darkness. Tyna heaved the block up which uncovered beneath a horrifying sight. A group of ten children were huddled beneath, some staring sightlessly ahead, others appearing to be nothing more than asleep. Mor fought past the bile rising in his throat and gently pulled apart the too cold limbs to reveal the one survivor beneath all that death.

The small girl blinked at the light, coughing and gasping for fresh clean breaths. Mor did not hesitate. He reached down and pulled her out of the mass grave, tucking her in close. Over her head he met Villiam's eyes and shook his head just slightly to the other guardians silent question.

There were no heartbeats from the rest.
 
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"DIGGERS! WE NEED DIGGERS OVER HERE!"

Red head tilted upwards. Light-freckled face grimaced but he kept the eddy of swirling air going for a paper dragon as the small gathering of children around him grew. "Keep 'em up, yeah, just move your hands under 'em like this. I'll be back."

With a light smile, he took off into the air again, landing lightly next to Tyna Blun.

Tyna's load would seem a bit lighter as the air shifted around her. Then Ayden, one of the youngest guardians, disappeared into the gap she provided. Those still alive and half buried would suddenly find that they could breath. But he couldn't get them all out by himself. He could keep Tyna's load a little light and could keep oxygen in those who were buried lungs. Ayden still need some fellow man power.

So the red head hollered. "Villy and Mordy. Get your big strong arses down here!"

Villam Regis Mordred Tyna Blun
 
Villam helped to move the rubble as he could, but the Blood Guardian's drive was so strong, he often moved the ruined remains of the school away faster than Regis could even reach them. He could not know the full extent of Mordred's sorrow; The man had dedicated himself to helping those in need, channeling that power given to him by his stone in a way few could ever dream to achieve.

Mordred was blood. To feel the blood die beneath his efforts could only have been a living hell to his heart.

Their efforts weren't in vain; not entirely, anyways. Once the collapsed second story had been cleared enough to unveil the carnage underneath, there was one last child, still clinging to the strings of life as Mordred pulled her out from the bodies of her classmates and friends. Villam knew even before he received the dire look from his comrade that the others had been lost.

Even this girl, alive though she was, was in peril. Even if her physical wounds healed, her mental scars would run deep. The knowledge that she'd been spared while her friends were taken so suddenly, that her survival likely came in part because their bodies shielded her own... it would haunt her for the rest of her days.

"Villy and Mordy. Get your big strong arses down here!"

This was about the only time that Ayden could get away with calling him anything but his actual name, as he'd wedged himself into a gap created by a young member of the Vanguard, and was struggling to free them without some additional manpower. Casting a look back to Mordred, he nodded toward the medical camp.

"Go, stabilize her. I'll help Ayden."

They'd saved her, but keeping her alive was another task entirely, one Mor was far better suited towards than Villam. The younger Regis hurried towards Tyna Blun and the slab she held up, just enough to create space to breathe and perhaps shift about. Ayden had slithered underneath, and the slab was beginning to shift upwards. All it needed was a bit more...

"Hold on tight..." The Passion Guardian muttered to Blun as he helped to her lift the slab up. Once it was high enough to prop up with their entire body weight, casting it aside was a simple enough matter. The large piece of ruined rock crumbled as it hit the ground, providing much needed freedom for those trapped underneath. It was a start, at least.

Tyna Blun Mordred Ayden
 
As the red-headed guy flew over, Tyna looked at him in confusion. People weren't supposed to fly, right? The strain of holding up the slab of stone was making her thoughts slow- well, slower than they admittedly already tended to be. Then, the stone suddenly became lighter, and the guy disappeared underneath it and yelled out.

"Villy and Mordy. Get your big strong arses down here!"

Villy and Mordy? Slowly, it dawned on her. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it before. She nearly dropped the stone in shock, the aid from whom she now realized was the Guardian of the Air Runestone himself the only thing keeping her from losing her grip. Villy and Mordy were probably Villam Regis and Mordred Fórn, the Passion and Blood Guardians. They were right there. She was pretty sure one was speaking to her.

Oh gosh.

She blushed a darker green, embarrassed for no particular reason. Thankfully, her cheeks were already rather dark from nausea, so it wasn't too noticeable.

Regis helped her completely remove the stone from the hole, and she managed to barely sputter out a thank you. Any further words died on her lips as she saw what had been under the stone. Her shock at seeing her idols rapidly turned into a different type of shock. This had once been a classroom full of kids. Fórn had retreated holding what appeared to be a still living girl, but the others...

Tyna quickly but gently began removing the small, lifeless bodies from the rubble. There were so many of them... She couldn't stop a few tears from falling from her eyes. Normally, she would've never been caught dead crying in front of a Guardian, but this was just so much. She'd never seen anything like this before. They were only children. It wasn't fair.

Maybe some still lived. One had managed to survive, so perhaps there were a few more trapped beneath the rubble. The Air Guardian's demeanor seemed to be pointing towards that, although that might've just been how he was in general. She hadn't ever expected to hear someone call Guardians Regis and Fórn Villy and Mordy before. Or refer to their rears as arses.

Mordred Ayden Villam Regis
 
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Vazia had recieved word from Villam's men (she wasn't sure if they were his men perse or just men that happened to be around) that Villam had gone with a few of the other Guardians to the lower city of Alidonia. The ocean, already unpredictable, had been even more so during the sygyzy and now the residents of Alidonia were paying for it.

Vazia was not the Guardian of Blood or Disease, but she did not need to be to feel the death and despair on the air. She had decided she was not the type to wait patiently at home for Villam to return and instead she had taken the road to Alidonia herself. Her ability to manipulate gravity would allow her to move rocks and debris as the Guardians tried to find anyone alive in the ruins.

Her pace slowed as she entered the ruined town. She wore her stone around her neck, and her blank eyes searched the people moving hurriedly about over the rubble, in a race against time. No, a race against death, one that death had already completed- they were merely following its footsteps.

She spotted who she had been looking for and was by his side in moments. She extended her hands but did not touch the rocks surrounding the dark hole in the rubble, where she could feel life thrumming. There would be a sensation of a heavy pressure slowly lifting for the four of them gathered as the surrounding rubble lifted a few inches off the ground before moving off to the side and falling down with other rocks.

Vazia returned her hands to her sides and the slightest feeling of weightlessness disappeared. She turned and looked up at Villam, wearing an expression only he would understand.

Villam Regis Tyna Blun Ayden
 
The scouts moved through the ruined city like ghosts through a graveyard. Quietly, as if trying to avoid waking the restless dead, Mabbon signalled for Tomas to check a building off to their right. It stood alone, one a few structures that had managed to weather the storm. The front façade had crumbled, collapsing in on itself. But Mabbon sensed life within, where the darkness held sway.

'Survivors, here!'

'And here! Shit, I need help over here!'

Pulling back his hood, Mabbon stared up at the cloudy sky as the soldiers raced to help their comrades. The shadows were loud, oh so loud. Bodies, bodies, bodies, they said, smiling, laughing at the fear in Mabbon's heart. Too late, he thought, closing his eyes against the drizzling rain. Too little, too late. No good. No-

'Ser Mabbon! Ser Tomas!'

Turning to look over his shoulder, the Guardian watched as Rovias strode to join him in the shallows. 'High Mage.' Mabbon welcomed him. There was another figure, just behind him. The half-orc returned her nod. 'We weren't expecting company. Ours is a grim and dangerous business. But then I suppose that is why you have come?' Wiping the grit from his eyes, Mabbon turned his head as a scream emanated from further within the flooded warrens.

'Carrion-eaters,' remarked Tomas, beating him to the punch. 'Sergeant Kyril's squad reported spying a few, further in, near to the harbour wall. What's left of it, anyway.' Glancing around, he spied the upturned hull of a merchant vessel buried in what had once been an administrative hall. Flood water hemmed the building in on all sides, cutting off access. The same scene was repeated a hundred times over in a hundred different places.

'It's a good thing you're here, High Mage.' Narrowing his eyes, Mabbon nodded across the street, to where his men were ushering a score of soaked, half-starved survivors out into the open. 'The shadows have grown... restless, to say the least.' He paused.

'So much death. How could this have happened, Ser? How did no-one in Valenntenia foresee this... this...' He shook his head.

Rovias Vaima Laure
 
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"I don't know." Rovias answered before Mabbon could find the words to finish his question, his jaw set in silent fury as he looked over the incomprehensible damage done to a city that had always treated Valenntenians like brothers and sisters. "And it doesn't matter right now. What we need to focus on is damage control. Rest assured though, Guardian Mabbon..." The High mage turned to regard the Darkness Guardian, a deathly determination in his gaze. "...I will discover the cause of this in time. I'll not rest until it's done."

Rovias meant his words; Now that the Artificial Rune project no longer needed his constant supervision, he could divert his resources to the study of Alidonia's remains. This was no mere act of nature's wrath. Something of such massive scale had something else behind it, something that reeked.

He'd been so focused on his thoughts that he'd nearly missed the presence arriving behind him. Turning to look over his shoulder, the mage raised a curious brow at the woman standing at his rear. She was clearly a Guardian; Rovias knew the pressure of a Runestone's power anywhere, but he'd not seen her before. The only Runestones he knew to be up for a new appointee were...

"Water, I assume?" He smiled, after a brief pause, and turned to face the young woman. Rovias had given up hope of having a Guardian of Water here to aide him in a crisis so fitting for one. It seemed Solomon had finally found one, at the perfect time. "Quite the sight for sore eyes, Miss. I can manipulate the waters to aide in the efforts, but you've no doubt more talent for that than I."

A piercing scream from further into the flooded warrens drew his attention away from the new Guardian, the light smile that had found his lips fading as he winced at the bloodcurdling sound that echoed out into the clouded sky.

"I admit I don't envy you." Rovias spoke in a murmur to the Water Guardian. "This is an unfortunate first assignment to have."

When the last echoes of the scream had dissipated into the air, The High Mage clutched at one of the many rings on his fingers, twisting it as he stepped towards the worst of the flooding, in the direction of the administrative hall skewered by a boat.

"The sooner we clear these waters, the sooner we can protect any more survivors from predators seeking an easy meal. Ser Mabbon, by order of the High Mage, you are in command of the salvage of the lower city. The three of us need to secure these shallows quickly, and move any survivors up the cliff to the medical camps."

Turning back to Vaima, he tilts his head, the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Will you aide us, Miss?"

Mabbon Dreierg
Vaima Laure
 
Vaima tried, and failed, to smile back. Rovias's assumption that she had more talent than he was perhaps a bit dubious. She was entirely untested outside of training exercises, and this was a rough first exam. A trial by fire, ironically. She wasn't about to let him know that, however. Best to present a capable front and hope she could live up to it.

"That's what I'm here for."

She mentally reached out towards the waters ahead, trying to prepare herself for her task. Immediately, she nearly retched. It was as if the decay floating in the shallows was inside of her. She felt like her limbs were bloating, flesh rotting, skin loosely peeling away. For the first time since she’d had her Runestone, she experienced a fear of drowning. She forcefully suppressed her knee-jerk reaction to pull back. While facing the waters was wildly unpleasant, it was nothing compared to what those trapped within them had gone through. She was getting mere impressions of their reality. Murky reflections in stagnant water.

"Clearing... clearing the waters."

Vaima stepped forwards until her foot splashed into a deep puddle, and the awful sensations increased. She worried that her foot would rot so severely that it'd simply detach and float away. She also, however, somehow felt more hale; said foot was likely now capable of kicking through solid wooden planks. Disconcerting was an incredible understatement.

She looked to Rovias, appearing to be visibly ill. Bags had formed under her eyes and her tan was all but gone.

"How best can I help?"

Normally, she would've just done what she thought was best. Thinking, however, was rather difficult when your mind was connected to extremely corpsey water. This was all so wrong.

Rovias Mabbon Dreierg
 
"Hush now, hush," Mordred spoke softly as he stalked away from the continuing digging he knew to be fruitless. The girl felt too small, too light, too fragile in his arms. He wanted to crush her close but he dared not. Already the rune whispered of things that were broken and failing. Of the blood that had been slowly filling her lungs. He cleared the rubble and set her down on a patch of grass devoid of rubble to properly assess her injuries.

"It hurts," she whimpered, hands clasped over her stomach.

"May I look?" at her mute nod he carefully peeled it back to reveal deep bruising across her skin. He offered her a smile even as his stomach churned. "Just a little tummy ache, we're going to get you better okay?"

" I want my mummy," was his only reply and his smile wavered a little.

"I know, we'll find her after we sort your tummy out. How does that sound?" the little girl didn't answer and Mordred took that as permission to set about his work. He hated to touch the rune for every time he did he felt it gain another inch inside of his mind. But for a child, Mor would give it all over. Tapping on the magic he shut his eyes and let it guide him to what was broken, let it help him in healing the injuries that would have otherwise have killed her slowly and painfully. There was an ashen taste in his mouth when he was done.

"These nice men are going to take you to the hospital now, I'm sure you're mummy is waiting for you there. You have to be brave for her now, okay?" he nodded to two of the Vanguard who had hovered nearby as he worked and now gathered her up. With a nod from him they set off for the hospital and Mor returned to those still digging through the rubble of the school.

"If you ever call me that again Ayden I will ensure your blood is too thin to do this tricks of yours," the Blood guardian said in his usual deadpan tone that made it hard to tell if he joked or not.
 
Any annoyance from Villam Regis was lost on Ayden. He was grateful for the additional light the other guardian provided by removing more of the rubble.

The red-head rolled his eyes at Mordred, not phased at all by the other guardian's seriousness. Or grumpiness. The flying boy's attention was on the souls he kept lungs filled with oxygen below. While they wouldn't suffocate to death now, he was more worried about their minds.

"Thanks Vaz," Ayden's hands sifted through the dirt as he found a hand and with help of Vazia Ferreira and his own air, he was able to sift the dirt enough to uncover a young woman with dark brown hair. She sputtered and rubbed at her face as she was freed.

"My little girl," she wheezed.

Then she started clawing at the ground.
 
Ingrid did not rush, did not quicken her pace. The work that was here for her, it was not in saving the buried. She could hear Ayden flitting about, yelling for help. She could see Mordred and the suffering he carried on his face. Rovias was a spectacle, and his power was something she'd be mindful of as he addressed the new bearer of the Water Rune.

Still, she walked past them, a walking corpse in her own right. First, she visited the medical tent. The stench of wounds greeting her trained nose. She knew Mordred would be here too, and the burden that would weigh him down with every death. The rancid smell of infection was already filling the air, and she visited each mewling wounded in turn. She absorbed all the festering wound, or those that threatened it. It would make much easier work for healers. With each treatment of power, the rune took a little more control, whispered a little bit louder.

Done with the tents, and onto the stinking piles of the dead. It was the same deal, rid them of anything that would cause an inevitable plague. It was only a chore, the dead did not bother her, not after facing it repeatedly. No sound left her lips, no tears, no panic, not a singular emotion slipped from her. She would need to speak to Rhenn after this, but for now she was on her own.
 
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Perhaps there was something to be said about the fact it took such a tragedy for so many of them to work together without the typical arguments that tended to ensue between certain Guardians, but if there was, it could be said later; Every one of them had a means to help salvage this dire situation, to help pull even one more life from the icy grip of death, and in this moment that was all any of them desired.

Vazia's arrival was welcome, and her power, combined with Ayden's and the indomitable efforts of Vanguard Tyna, made removing the remaining rubble over the trapped group of occupants almost trivial. Thankfully, the outlook seemed marginally brighter than that of the schoolhouse he and Mordred had just finished extricating; several survivors, mostly adults, looked to be still breathing.

"They're still clinging." He breathed as he saw them huddled in a nest of debris and rubble, at least four grown women clinging to one another, a fifth already trying to claw her way to freedom now that the heavy weight upon her had been moved. Villam dropped to his knees and palmed his stone, sending whatever encouragement he could through to them. One, an older woman who'd wound up at the bottom of the pile, coughed and sputtered through ragged breath.

"Ayden, she needs air. Can you...?" It was very likely that the boy's efforts to provide them a decent airflow was part of the reason they'd survived at all. He was aloof at times, but Villam had to admire his sharpness. Turning to look over at his flaxen-haired partner as she regarded him with a personal expression, he reached out for one of the unconscious bodies among the tossed remains of civilization. "I'm glad you came..." He muttered, the slightest apologetic hint in his voice-- Their outing together would have to wait. "Help me move them?"
 
The rubble removed revealed several women clinging to each other, fighting to pull oxygen into their lungs. She continued to help shift rubble where needed, following Villam down onto her knees.

She nodded at Villam, then turned to focus her attention on the unconscious body he was reaching for. She lifted it and a couple others close by a few feet off the ground, moving them so that medics and healers could get to them. She would levitate a few of them over to the medical tents if needed.

Some of them stirred as they were moved, and others lay still- still enough that Vazia knew if they weren't already gone they were on the brink of going.

Throughout the destroyed city, she heard cries of families being reunited, and cries of families being divided. Aislynn knew the pain of losing those you loved, and Vazia could not pretend the cries did not get to her. It was because of her stone that she kept her cool and she almost morbidly wondered what would happen if she removed her stone now.

She couldn't, not when there was so much more to be done, not when these people's pain was still so fresh.

Villam Regis Ayden Tyna Blun
 
'As you command, High Mage.' Shaking the rainwater from his cape, Mabbon turned towards the restless shadows of the administrative hall. 'Getting over there is sure to be a royal pain in the arse,' he huffed, glancing sidelong at Tomas. 'Thoughts?'

'We could follow the high road, there!'

Following the scout sergeant's gaze, Mabbon surveyed the ruined cityscape sprawled before them. The high road, as Tomas had put it, ran up and away from the hall to join another slip road leading down. The buildings lining the left side of the road leaned drunkenly against one another, their rooftops punctured, upper rooms exposed to the sea air. Those on the right side...

Well, those on the right no longer existed.

'It's a long way down if one of us stumbles,' Mabbon cautioned, not liking how the cobbles had lifted in places. He turned to the waiting scouts. 'Gareth! Harren! You have the lead. Check the road and make sure it's fit for purpose. We'll be along once you've given us the all-clear.'


'Yessir!'

'Rowan! Think you can lead the survivors back to the medical teams? They look to be in desperate need of warm food and dry clothing, and maybe a good night's rest.' Mabbon wasn't exaggerating. Most of the survivors they had pulled from the ruins so far had been dressed in rags and little else. Most had been emaciated and soaked to their skins, despite the speed with which Valenntenia had answered their neighbours cries for help.

The scout nodded. 'Yes, Ser, I can. Follow me, please! This way now!' Leading the ragtag group away, carefully retracing the parties' steps, Mabbon waited until Rowan had disappeared from sight.

The call came down from the forward team.

'Alright, let's be on our way.' Waving for Rovias and Vaima to follow him, the Guardian began picking his way forwards, quietly, quickly. 'Don't go too close to the edge,' he warned, 'the ground is treacherous here. More so than I'm comfortable with.'

Rovias Vaima Laure
 
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Rovias had to admire the Darkness Guardian's leadership abilities: Mabbon's men respected him, and not simply because he was a Guardian. Their voices carried genuine admiration for the half-orc leading them, and such comradery was not a thing so easily forged. Still, his concern for the unevenness of the path placed a coy little smile onto his lips.

"You need not worry for our safety, Guardian Drierg." He stepped forward to follow Garreth and Harren carefully sliding the silver and gold rings off his fingers and tucking them into a small pouch hanging from the side of his belt, before stretching out his digits. "I will steady our path, just move carefully."

There was little to be done for the lopsided buildings that had been twisted and torn askew on one side of the path, let alone those that had been washed away completely on the other. The loosed cobbles, though, Rovias could hold steady enough for travel. "Guardian Laure, as we move up, please attempt to push the water below us out towards flat land. Once we reach the building, you and I will work together to displace the lot of it where it will do no harm."

The unsteady high road was somewhat treacherous, but true to his word, Rovias held his palms downwards as they walked, speaking in a continuous incantation. It was simple magic: Just enough to hold the path together until they were clear of danger.

All the while, he kept one eye on Vaima.

It wasn't every day that one got to witness a new Guardian in action. The most ravenous hunger in all the world was curiosity, and The High Mage had it in spades.

Again, the sounds of animalistic growling came from the distance, carried over the rubble and ruin. Rovias winced, pointing his gaze forward once more. "We should be on the lookout for predators and scavengers. I have little doubt they still roam the area..."