[Seasonal Quest] Upon a Star (Open)

by **Miro** on January 9th, 2012, 6:42 pm

Miro took the invitation to step out of their circle. It was an impressive technique, one that would not soon be forgotten. Casually he walked forward towards the woman who made quite the comical remark. Despite Miro's shaken mood that left him less than humored with the situation he still gave a smile. This woman had a charm and confidence in herself, one that inspired Miro to follow her without hesitation. It seemed she had everything well under control. Though he was unsure of just how bad the situation was, it seemed that there were greater things than him around this city of illusion. How he could have ever thought the city to be boring was a mystery. The group walked on, Miro following close behind listening carefully. The thought of the many casualties around the city pestered his mind, but he knew that the only thought that would do any good was how to prevent any more. At whatever cost, he would stop the destruction.

Out of nowhere a door appeared. Instantly Miro knew the technique to be the same as the one he encountered in the underground. She was a truly impressive woman. Miro closed his eyes for a moment and hesitated for a moment before entering. He remembered the white room, the fighting. It was going to happen again. This time not one of his friends would die. Pushing aside all of his thoughts and worries he headed into the room with a deep breath. Letting it out brushed away any remaining worries. The room was dark, but had enough light to allow him to clearly make out faces. Though the room was well furnished, he paid little attention to such things. The woman sat down and Miro followed suit. He choose a seat near hers, but still kept some distance. He gently placed Kali down next to him and marveled at the mystery that seemed to be how she was at eye level.

Before he could try to observe how exactly this happened the woman started talking again. Miro brought his attention up to her, but still his eye was drawn over to Kali. His char was not shorter was it? Her chair was no higher than his. There didn't seem to be any tilt in the table or floor, it didn't make any sense. The woman snapped as she shouted out in excitement, startling Miro and forcing his attention back to her. Suddenly Miro's face was greeted by steam making him tilt back in his chair and turn his face. He brought up a hand to cover his face then moved his chair back to its resting position. He quickly brought his hand down over the cup and produced ice freezing the top of the cup sealed. Instantly the pain made his eyes water and he shook his hand out and began blowing cold air on it. Now realizing just how foolish he looked he lowered his head to hide his face. Even has he slouched down trying to hide, he found himself not getting any lower in relation to the people across the table. Though the treats looked quite nice, Miro was not in the mood to eat.

Everybody was halted up here waiting on this woman who acted as if they had all of the time in the world. Why were they just sitting around when there was so much going wrong. As the woman casually sipped her tea and invited the to sit panic started to set in. Miro couldn't help but to worry about who was being attacked as they sat idle. After everybody had taken a moment she finally resumed speaking about the condition of the city. Something she said surprised Miro greatly though. There were golems out there? An animator was out there attacking the city as well? The city was not safe. It was not safe because the people weren't safe. The buildings were of no importance, this government was important, but it was not the vitality of the city. Miro gritted his teeth trying to hold in his growing emotions. His heart pounded and he began to shake. Miro began to try to quell his anger and fear with reason. He took one deep breath after another thinking hard on what could be done. Bowing his head Miro clasped his hands together above his head. He pressed his wrists against his head and attempted once more to calm his body to a still. "This woman she has the ability, the same as Yasminy. She is poweful, I know it. The government is in control of the situation. I am safe, I am sure everybody else was saved too."

Miro returned to his upright position and pushed his hair back out of his face. He returned to the conversation in time to hear that it was illusion that was attacking the city. He wanted to say something, but he did not know what to say. What could be said? All he could do was sit and listen. With a knock at the door and an invitation in a man appeared before them. He appeared to more special than any of the many people working around the room where they were summoned, carrying some papers and moving towards the woman. Promptly after taking the papers she left the room and this new man took her seat. He referred to her as Alluvia, stating she had brought help. He seemed to care little about the lives of people, but he wanted to end this problem. Finally somebody who would guide them towards saving the city and stopping the destruction. Miro smirked as he went on asking for their help in his smug arrogant way. As he finished he began to examine his nails and ignore the rest of the room. "I know that must have been a hard speech to make, but I don't think you broke a nail. Maybe we can finish with all of this babbling and you can tell us how to help."

Alluvia returned to the room just as Miro was finishing his plea. They sat down together and Miro pushed his hair back. He had to wonder what everybody was thinking of their current situation and the people who seemed to be in charge here. Miro looked back at Iliana with a less than subtle amount of concern. Were they going to be just another mess to clean? What could they possibly have to do for such people. There were no crazy green dressed ladies here, but perhaps they were better off just falling. Though Miro wanted to trust in the government he just couldn't bring himself to have faith in these people. This Alluvia, she had the same ability as the people in the underground, Miro was sure of it. He needed to see what she could do, and if she had the ability to help them. "Alluvia, that is your name is it? I happened to notice something. Actually I noticed a few somethings. I met a pair of powerful people in the underground with an interesting ability. This man, Yasminy, he saved me. I was trapped with no way out and he cleared the field of all foes in an instant. Then where no walls existed a door appeared and it lead to a room." Miro created a ball of res that fit in his palm. He transmuted it to ice and set it down on the table near Alluvia. "Maybe you can show us what you can do. Can you change this into something?" Miro was afraid of what this woman could do, but she seemed to be on their side. The way Yasminy died was what really scared Miro. Yagame switched her appearance with Yasminy's, tricking Miro into attacking him. Could she take this guise as well?

by **Jaeden Kincade** on January 9th, 2012, 7:22 pm

Jaeden spun around, his sword being thrust into the back of the knee into a golem as he heard the snap and pop of iron giving way before the golem fell to the ground. His sword was then thrust directly towards the base of the golem’s head, as the scratching sound of metal upon metal caused the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, just wondering how dull the edge of his blade was getting from all of this. “I should have learned to use a mace or war hammer as well.” Jaeden silently mumbled to himself as he pulled his blade free from the scrapped monstrosity.

He stepped back a few paces, observing what was left as other fights or those running gave him the brief moment he needed to give a quick glance around and assess the situation and odds. His ears then twitched, and like the buzz of white noise, the announcement suddenly came city wide. The threat they had been pulled into. The Enemy. Regrouping points.

In the end, finding a place to gather and catch a breather would be a better idea than being out in the open, fighting and unknown number of adversaries. Additionally, all of these golems were simply fodder compared to the main problem. Like the two individuals who fled this particular fight after pinning the other fighter to the wall. Jaeden quickly beat his feet along the ground, running over near Red and Kamalia as he pulled his bow free from his shoulder. “Kammy, Red.” Jaeden yelled out, unfastening the cover to his quiver of arrows. “We’re going to head towards Mercy and try to get our bearings. Or at least as much of a bearing as one can obtain in this city.”

Jaeden took a couple of ticks, looking over Kamalia for a moment before slowly reaching into a belt pouch and pulling some of his rations free. He tossed them to Kamalia, an assortment of nuts and berries as well as some dried meats. It wasn’t fish, but in a time of crisis, Kamalia didn’t have the luxury of being choosy. “Reserve your energy.” Jaeden said simply, looking to Kamalia. “I don’t want you going into overgiving. Save your spells for the event we get surrounded during travel, or run into individuals like the ones who fled this battle.”

Jaeden then pulled and arrow free from his quiver, slipping it into the grasp of his other hand as he held it along the shaft of his bow. He looked to Ulric and the others who had joined the fray at Kamalia’s side. “You all are welcomed to come with of course,” Jaeden said before looking to Ulric, more to the point, his shoulder, “it's likely a good idea you get there and have that shoulder more attended to. Red merely did a patch job to see to it that you wouldn't bleed out. If there's something more you can get done there, we can head back out after and see what can be done on our end about ending this mess. And, you know, get back to the usual mess the city normally displays by its shifting buildings.”

Jaeden then looked to Kamalia and Red, giving them a slow nod. “I‘ll take point. Kammy you‘re behind me. Red, keep watch of the rear and warn us of anything approaching. If you all are planning on joining with us, let's have the woman after Kamalia, the kid in the center, axe warrior after him. I still want Red's heightened senses at the rear to act as vigil for anything trying to come up from behind and bugger us. If there were no other suggestions, let's get our feet moving.” Jaeden said as he began moving towards the Sanity center, only to run directly into the wall of one of the many buildings that had shifted into his path out of nowhere, as they so often did in Alavaldus. “Sunuvabitch! Gotta stop doing that.”

by **Naama** on January 9th, 2012, 9:22 pm

She heard the echoing words as yet another stiff golem whirled a clockwork arm above her head. With a furious kick and a clang the metal abomination creaked back and crashed in a resounding heap of parts and cogs. Pain shot up her side, sharp and agonizing, and for a moment she keeled over, wincing.

Bloody city better import plenty of ale for this.

The announcer spoke of spider bombs and weaknesses, and while the city was still ravaged by hoards of them, Naama began to witness the citizens finding the courage to fight back. Squirt had even managed to make a metal monstrosity collapse on itself with the use of his agile feet and sword. "Squirt, to me." She called, while the sorceress continued weaving the threads of djed and magic.

It was from the corner of her eye that she noticed the warrior. His armor was smeared in blood. Blood that could only be his, for these golems held no liquid of their own. Something like fear flashed in her eyes. There are more enemies than just these creations, I see. Someone that thirsts for blood. And then a metal arm smashed against the old wound, expelling a sharp cry. "Shyke." Tears welled up, while Squirt's deft hands sent a sword to the knees of the golem, sending it crumpling.

"What the petch happened to you?" She growled at Ulric, gesturing toward the bloodied, makeshift bandages. Then she scowled at the man addressing the sorceress, the one called Jaeden. But he's hurt, and my wound could open again at any time.. "Don't do anything rash, Ulric. I need you." There was the fear, thick in her voice, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. The blood was on her hands as she looked over the raw hole.

"Are we going to follow them?" Squirt looked at them expectantly.

by **Ulric** on January 10th, 2012, 1:22 am

Ulric clove with the edge of his axe, shearing away plated fingers in a spray of sparks, his raging fury beating in hot, purple waves at the golem, caving in the head, tearing away the neck joints. “Naama,” he grunted, wincing at the fiery pangs that coursed from his shoulder. He reached for her, roughly cupping her cheek with the leather fingers of his gauntlets, already smeared a lurid, sticky red. “Got skewered,” he frowned, for her tone was vastly changed. No longer the cheeky quips, the prickly barbs, the smirk on her lips. They’d all sloughed away like dry leaves, leaving behind an injured, vulnerable husk. That made him forge closer, nervously glancing at the plumes of acrid smoke, the debris of warped metal that bided somberly under the squeal of grinding gears and a rumble of sundered masonry. Her plight, and the boy’s surging fear, rent a profound chord in his heart. Though he was sorely hurt, when he glanced at her side he could only think of the vast, sordid horrors they’d endured in the rocky sprawl of trunks, and he just hurled away the agony.

I need you, too.

More than you’ll ever know.

“We’re heading for the Mercy,” Ulric growled, whirling to crush through the heavy, bronzed ridges of a golem’s shambling leg, making it tumble over in a jangling, shrieking crash. “You’re hurt, and I won’t let you go any further. You’re mine, and I’m yours.” He didn’t have to say it, but he was also growing weaker. His arms were leaden, his feet scuffing.

“Jaeden.” Hazy dark eyes flashed to the man, vaguely casting over his female comrades. “Fight well.”

Angrily, he swept up the heavy shield, deflecting a jagged chunk of rock, nearly a boulder. The jolt went up his arm, rendering it numb to the elbow. The spurs of his bones shaking, as though on the verge of a break. “Shyke,” he cursed, moving to shelter Naama and Squirt with his body. “Just move your arse,” he rasped, jostling at her chest. “The woman, the mage that did this to me… she’s like Sir Arshaz, just worse, and with so much power.”

All this, for a bit of piss, he reflected grimly, though he knew the city was under siege by a greater, viler threat than just a spurned artist.

Ulric began to jog, armor clanking, legs churning as ushered them over the labyrinth of rubble, jerking around as he hacked at blank, blackened iron faces, the weak knee joints, ever seeking the house of healing. He kept glancing at Naama, tensely crying out for her sake, and for Squirt. And yet, as he glanced at the dirty boy and his heavy sword, there was surge of pride. “Just try not to die, lad.”

by **Mirage** on January 10th, 2012, 7:28 am

OOC :

The city echoed with the sounds of panic and destruction... Fires leapt high from heaps of rubble, and the rumble of countless mechanical feet could be felt throughout the city. Alvadas was a picture of chaos, a world without order. The city of illusions had become truly chaotic, and the very laws of nature were all but ignored. Even now... the hands of fate had begun to move...

The Slanderer's Group

It was not safe just yet... The ranks of golems had been thinned, but not destroyed, and as the group clustered around the Sorceress the next wave began to press in. The very ground began to shake with the sheer numbers that seemed to appear from no where, perhaps throwing some off balance if they were not careful. Urlic, who had advanced further, fell prey to the lead advance. A wall of pointing spears made its way toward the man, the thud of heavy metal feet and clanking metal drowning out all other sounds for a moment. If he tried to break through the center of this advance he would quickly be surrounded, and any who had come to is aid would be as well. If he fell back, however, the man might have a few moments to gather his wits and plan a strategy.

While the bulk of the new forces were focused on the front, standing between the group and any chance of safety, from behind a new group of golems began to march forward. This group was thinned slightly, with only 2 rows of 10 metal contraptions to speak of, but from the second row volley after volley of arrows were rained down upon the clustered warriors. Though numerous, none of the arrows were shot with an accuracy, some easily dodged or deflected. It appeared that this strategy was heavily reliant on the large group of golems distracting attention from the smaller, but whether the ploy was affective was yet to be seen.

The Hand of Fate

On top of the roof that Jaeden walked into, a man kneeled, looking down on the group as the fought off the metal contraptions. He had been there for some time, simply watching... waiting for his moment to strike. In his hand was a sword, a monster of a weapon whose length nearly matched his 5'11 height. Its blade was broad and reflected the light of the many fires in the city, giving it an almost demonic look. The man himself was Myrian, his tawny skin and black hair giving away his heritage. Muscles shifted and bulged under his skin as he moved, and the metal plates that adorned his shoulders and forearms clanked as he stood to his feet, hefting the great sword easily onto one shoulder. A smile touched his lips as he watched the battle progress, the spark of Kamalia's magic set the man's blood to boil, and he could feel the lust for battle building within him. When the latest wave of golems began to advance, the man let out a single bellowing laugh, a sound that was both merry and bloodcurdling at the same time. It was the laugh of a man who who relished bloodshed, who lived for the heat of battle. Gathering his strength, the man stepped up onto the ledge of the building, leaping up and out into the middle of the big group of golems, his two marks of Myri shining on his bare chest.

When he landed, the stones of the street cracked from the impact and several golems went sailing in various directions, and those that remained turned to encircle the Myrian. Standing slowly the man dusted off his his leggings, rolling his shoulder and flexing his free hand, the sword still propped up on one shoulder. Three golems made their advance, stabbing their spears with the intent to impale his body and litter the streets with blood, but with a derisive snort the man tilted his body, blocking one spear aimed at his back with the flat side of his sword. Turning sideways he dodged another spear and caught the last by the shaft, pulling it and the golem at the other end closer, his elbow smashing into the metal man's face and reducing it to a mere shadow of its former self. With a laugh the man spun, his sword raking through the encircling golems and knocking many down to the ground, and leapt forward. His hand found the neck of the nearest golem and lifted it bodily from the ground as if it weighed little more than a child. With a grunt the golem's throat was crushed, and with an easy heave the Myrian tossed it back into the pressing crowd.

Then the battle began in earnest as the contraptions pressed in, seeking to overwhelm the man with sheer numbers, however, this seemed to increase the man's eagerness. His free hand moved to the hilt of his sword, and he charged forward directly into the line of spears. Just before he reached the deadly points the man spun, using the momentum to swing the sword into the coming line, cleaving the entire row at the chest. The sword's tip buried deep into the ground, but following the weapons momentum the Myrian adjusted his grip on the hilt and swung his body, landing a kick squarely in the chest of another golem, sending it sailing back and knocking over several of its fellows. Without losing pace he ripped the sword from the ground, sending a shower of stones into the pressing crowd and swung the blade in an arch, cleaving another metal man from head to feet, the two halves falling in opposite directions.

The man became a maelstrom of carnage and destruction, using his hands as often as his blade to carve a trail of broken golems toward the group of adventurers. His skills were great, his prowess unmatched, and his blood lust insatiable. Any who would draw near should mind the man's swinging blade, for in the confusion of battle it is not unheard of for a man to accidently kill a friend in arms.

And so, the hand of fate moves the pieces into place...

OOCGet as creative as you want with this group. There are plenty of golems to go around, and many ways to dispose of them. Now is the time to earn some extra combat xp i would think

. Oh, and the man's identity shall be revealed soon enough.

by **Eridanus** on January 10th, 2012, 10:34 am

Even as Eri offered his services the Headmaster did not accept, rather instead he gave the ethaefal a choice of his own. Was that because some element of trust was gone due to his departure? Or was it a way of the older leth-born telling the younger one that he must make his own path? Regardless, the eypharian began to tell a story of how an illusion's bane can be made. It would make sense, however it would only be reasonable to commit one's entire resources into doing so if it can be precisely proven that the source of the this problem lay on Drysalla.

As the Headmaster left the room to begin more preparations for the defence of the school, Eri bowed respectfully as his mentor left, then looked around to find the pycon. "You with me, buddy?" He said, offering to pick the pycon to ride on his shoulder should Ihnar agree.

He would have to face danger outside again, but this time he would be slightly more prepared and not caught off-guard. It seemed that the rest of the room was quite unwilling to brave the explosions and golems scattered throughout the city, and so he would have to do so.

"Get in touch with the government," He remarked to the rest of the room. He would expect Karash to probably whip them into researching and finding out some explanation or whatnot. He would do the legwork. "I'll get you your bone, Karash. Just be ready for me when I do," Eri said off-handedly to the Malediction Master.

"May hope guide us all," Eri said to the rest of the group as he left with Ihnar, waving a hand dismissively as he exited the room. Not wanting to waste time, his knowledge was not as broad as the professors and various members of the community and they would do more good with their mind. Him? He would use his battle-trained body and his inquisitive nature, as well as a huge healthy dose of pure unadulterated luck to do the rest. It was not a battle for honor or glory. It was one borne out of his love to save his city.

Leaving the Asylum, he could not help but gasp at the destruction that arrayed before him. A few pieces of bodies here and there probably caused by the explosions, remains of golems and a man who appeared to be speared by a large but anachronistic spear from behind. These sights greeted Eri and the ethaefal could not help but relate it to a battlefield.

That's right. Alvadas has now become a battlefield.

Even as he left the place he saw two figures making their way towards the building, no doubt for security and shelter from the destruction and mayhem throughout the city. He did not pay attention to them, but as they approached his gut implored him to take a second look. There was a double take as he recognized the two figures to be Dhalvasha and Shai, two of which were part of the group that traveled together from Sunberth.

It was like a ray of sunshine in a pessimistic rain of misery for him to see familiar faces, especially Dhalvasha who saved him back in Sunberth with his medicinal skills. "Dhal! Shai!" The ethaefal addressed the two. He would imagine that they wanted shelter and safety, and he said, "Seek the Asylum if you require shelter from the devastation. The Headmaster's already preparing defence, though if you do so I'd suggest helping him out for even the Asylum's safety is suspect what with these strange events."

Looking closer, he realized that Dhal is really supporting Shai who seemed rather unconscious. Perhaps she was a casualty in the recent devastation, and he gave Dhal a look as if to say, "She'll live, right?".

If Dhalvasha were to inquire as to why he was leaving safety instead of staying there, he would briefly summarize the happenings inside the Asylum, ending with, "And so I seek intelligence and information to help us deal with this situation better. And primarily to seek the fabled bones of Drysalla."

He did not ask them to come along with him though. If they wanted to join him on his insane quest they were more than welcome, for the ethaefal would be glad to have an extra two pairs of eyes that he could trust watching his back, not to mention the various useful skill-sets that the two would bring to their little group. If not, he would respect their wishes for safety for he could not possibly drag them against their will.

His wish to save Alvadas was a personal one for the city was his beloved home.

There was a disembodied voice, and he listened carefully to the announcements. At least he know knew what the most effective way to disable the golems instead of inefficiently cleaving them like he did earlier. One point to Alvadas. The question now was should he go to the two places mentioned in the announcement? They would undoubtedly be safer, but he thought of the burden that Karash had 'bestowed' on him.

There was a very high chance that this entire problem was related to Drysalla and the cursed wish-granting mirror. He had to find the bones, it was the least he could do. The only problem was not knowing where the aforementioned bones were, and he doubted anyone he found along the way would be in a conversational frame of mind.

It was said that the city, or even Ionu, might help those who sought the betterment of the city. What better way to do it than to try it now? Offering a prayer to the city and to Ionu, Eri wished for the illusions to point him in the right direction. Where were the bones kept? If bloodshed was required, fight he would to restore Alvadas to its former glory. Fight he would to dispel the malicious invaders, and fight he would to protect the lives and freedom of its citizens.

As he silently prayed, he continued walking, all senses observant for any danger that might chance upon him. It seemed that there was a battle in this area while he was in the Asylum, and whoever survived had already moved on, living the remains - both inanimate and organic - strewn carelessly on the floor. He had expected to leave the brutality of Sunberth behind when he left the lawless city, but apparently tragedy and danger seemed to dog the ethaefal. Perhaps Dhalvasha was right. Perhaps he really was a danger magnet.

Rounding a corner, he sent a final plea to Ionu.

Please send me on the right path. Please let me save the city.

He hoped that Karash had indeed guessed the nature of their problem correctly. With the sword, he would strike down the invaders with righteous might. Someone will pay.

by **Kamalia Timandre** on January 11th, 2012, 1:20 am

It was fire. It was ice.

Whispered promises ignited the sorceress’ darkest desires. She teetered on a threshold between madness and serenity, and her eyes burned with bloodlust, watching the inferno, of fire and of ice, obliterate arcane constructs. She felt so powerful—so alive!—with the liquid magic coursing through her every vein and every recess of her soul. It was amazing how the body and mind reacted to the intricate machinations of djed. In the Konti’s eyes, the world slowed immensely, and the detail of everything seemed to stick out to her. Kamalia could consciously hear more sounds than normal. She could see more colors than usually she would be able to, and she could smell human fear mingled with blood, steel and sulfur. Nothing could make her feel more alive than this! Despite the perceived heightened senses, her movements were slow as it seemed time itself was. It took all of Kamalia’s self-control from smoldering her world into ashes, or draping everything else in a white, freezing death.

And then time sped up again, rushing back onto her in a flood. As the spellsong faded into diminuendo, Kamalia lowered her staff to her side as if it weighed a hundred pounds. For a long moment, she was content to observe. Her eyes gleamed in satisfaction, surveying the steel carnage.

She turned to face the copper-skinned lady with the starless night for her eyes. An exotic beauty, Kamalia thought, yet there was no telling whether the woman was Myrian or Chaktawe. Her movements were fluid as shadow, and her imposing tattoos reminded the wizard of her former guardian. “We would welcome another blade on our side,” she said softly, in an unnatural voice that was not yet entirely her own. “You may call me Kamalia. What are you called?”

There was a whisper of silk and a gentle tinkle of silver earrings when she moved closer to the half-Myrian, and before Naama could react, Kamalia’s fingers gingerly reached for tresses the color of midnight. “Dark where I am light,” she said serenely, and then all of the sudden the life in Kamalia’s eyes faded. Her hand was cold to touch, yet it also seemed to scald. For a few breaths, her body was merely an abandoned husk, and she stood motionlessly. And just as quick, Kamalia slipped back into her physical shell, staring into Naama’s eyes. “I see,” she said, a tiny smile touching her lips.

The Konti stepped back, and listened to Jaeden as he gave orders. She quietly consumed the berries that he offered, and tucked the dried meat into her bag. Food helped in recovering djed, but the process was not instant. Whether or not Kamalia was irritated by Jaeden telling her what to do, the Konti did not show a hint of emotion. She was simply unreadable, staring at him with cool serenity. The Kamalia he once knew might have protested.

And then she stared at the injured man they called Ulric. Her eyes hinted the man might as well have been some complicated mechanism she meant to disassemble in order to puzzle out how it worked. She watched impassively as Naama helped him to his feet. “That woman,” she said, half to herself, her eyes suddenly distant, “may not be real. I have sought her chavi— the weave of her soul and her memories— and there was nothing, as if she does not exist in the physical realm. Does she mean to steer the helm of Alvadas?”

Kamalia raised her free hand, as if feeling the air. “The air is thick with magic tonight,” she said serenely. She might as well have been talking about the weather in an evening promenade. The sorceress adjusted her shawl, before following Jaeden’s lead.

More golems arrived. Marshalling the discipline of her magical training, Kamalia closed her eyes and started shaping her next spell. She held her staff aloft, while the fingers of her free hand fluttered in the air, weaving her res to shape like a dome. Once more the sorceress sang the words of magic, intoned in Nader-Canoch, and her eerie song rose above the sounds of the battle. Once the volleys of arrows whistle through the air, Kamalia would whirl her carved staff above her head, spinning it with both hands. Hopefully the conjured dome of pressurized air would be enough to protect the group from the arrows. Kamalia was quickly running out of djed, and the real battle has not yet begun.

by **Bob Barton** on January 11th, 2012, 4:58 am

It was all one big horrible mess and all that Bob could only concentrate on were the golems and their creator unless he wanted to end up killed just like the other people around here unable to protect themselves from the superior metallic beings. Once Bob caught himself from stumbling on the wreckage which made him fail his attack he quickly drew his sword thinking that he can still make a surprise attack on Towers while he still had his arm up but the hacking and spluttering from the green paint almost in a comical fashion only allowed him to say as he tried to withhold his laughter, "the only wretched one here is you since for normal people the green stuff comes out the nose." Only after his fun he noticed that some of the golems had turned to him and anticipating an attack from them which he saw as more threatening than the smaller coward who hid behind them, changed the direction he had his sword pointed towards. From what he knew from his visit to Sahova, golems were very, very scary and if he did not do things right he could die where he stood.

Fortunately he would not have to deal with them because Towers was like Bob himself. Dwarfed by their companions, golems and humans alike they seem to have a tendency to prove themselves and Towers called his golems off to take out his hammer. "And you call yourself an artist? You hypocrite, where is your brush?" Bob asked mockingly like the golems of the man with the hammer did not matter as he switched the sword's point back. Even if he was quite unnerved by the golems that were still around, he figured that a lone person was a lot easier to defend himself from especially when he was going to use that unwieldy looking hammer which looked like it was going to be easy to defend against.

To get himself to keep on fighting, Bob entered the verbal arena as well to try and get his opponent distracted and just to make himself feel at least that he was the better one there. As Towers was doing his shouting, Bob did his laughing and made remarks about the other man's bad taste in fashion which one reminded Bob of a "foolish fool of a fool! You should be thanking me because the green really brings out your personality" while he tried to smack the hammer away. As much as he had to fight while he was in Sunberth it was not enough for him to get enough experience to know that there was something strange with the man's weapon. The only reason he kept his eye on it was in order to do his best not to get hit and how he did it was either by trying to dodge to the side or block the hammer off. It was not easy going against the blows. Unable to comprehend just how well the hammer was being wielded, Bob could only continue struggling on defending to block off the hammer and each time the hammer got closer to his body despite him being able to put his sword in between them.

The timing for the woman's appearance could not have been better because Bob could not keep it up any longer. All that moving around while trying to push the weight of the hammer away got Bob very tired and he was using his canesword for its other function that was so support himself as he tried to continue standing. "Yes try harder..." because it will give Bob more time to recover. As good as Towers seemed to be at fighting "there is no way you can fight off a lot of opponents consecutively..." unless he had help like the woman who suddenly came and hit the pissy vagik that started all of this. No point in wasting a chance like this for trash like him so while their attention was on Ulric, Bob crept away to the side to get away from them. Maybe if he was lucky and the golems were not too bright he could his among the corpses until all the killing was over like he did earlier for his ambush. He wished that he had better sense to stay like that from the beginning since it seemed like the better option that he should have taken.

"Goodbye to the crazy hot lady named Drysalla, the mad insufferable not hight enough Towers and angry fighty Ulric" Bob thought to himself as he was running from the scene and "hello golem..." Why do things never go his way? "I don't suppose you want to get that speared guy who peed on your friend?" Bob asked as he wearily lifted up his sword to defend himself again until he saw the bright flaming pillars to the side and pointed out the konti he knew from the ship stating "or whoever it is that is doing that?" Forget beautiful women because they can be found all over the world and one less would not make a difference for Bob but there was only one Bob in the whole world which will mean a loss for womankind everywhere should he fall here. That was the misplaced loyalty of the misguided midget in the situation but the golem did not care and swiped its sword at him that Bob dodged as he moved to the side. "Didn't-you-hear-me?" he asked dodging in between all the strikes accidentally getting closer to the golem as he did as his exhaustion was coming over him.

Bob really got just too close to the golemand the only thing he could think of at the time was to send a quick and hard thrust at its chest where the heart would be for any normal human being. It of course did not have any visible effect on the copper man but it did throw its the aim of its slash off missing Bob while he was able to position himself behind him when he ran through. There was no time to think about anything else and Bob quickly slashed wildly at the golem to push it back before continuing to jump at the golem at its body to continue brutalizing it with his sword until he was done continuing on to another and another each time growing closer to learn that these golems were not as well made as their Sahovan counterparts until the announcement was made. Tired and full of cuts and bruises from the fights he spat on the ground at the "useless government bringing me here. Should have stayed in Sunberth where it is safer. Too late to get back there now..." or is it?

One of the first places he remembered seeing as soon as he passed through that giant face into the city if he was not mistaken was the Sanity Center. "Excellent!" he smiled to himself because in going there he could get out of the city until all of this dies down without dying himself. The Mercy would have been a good place if he was injured badly and needed treatment but not when he wanted to escape especially with "giant exploding spiders...I should get Jinsen too if the whole city is going to get leveled..." and Bob also needed a projectile which he can use to protect himself. Walking over to one of the fallen crossbow golems he started stamping on the arm joint while pulling on the weapon to try and get it out before following the instructions of members of the Triad and the Silencers towards his destination hopefully being able to get his dog on the way. Too bad he had to get interrupted by more golems which started to shoot at him first. There was no other hiding place for him except to lift a golem and prop it in front of him like a copper body shield and struggling to find out how to work the golem's crossbow.

by **Nyahna Sasin** on January 11th, 2012, 11:38 pm

Worst. Morning. Ever. He hated golems, Sasin decided. Truly, honestly detested them. Bloody things were immune to poison, his main advantage over his foes. And this one had been far too big. Like wrestling with a fat, metal Jamoura holding crossbows. Speaking of which….

Leaning down to look at the crossbow, he was frustrated to find it was attached to the golem. "For Siku's sake.." he grumbled. Grabbing hold of the base, he began to wiggle it, trying to get it off the golem. Using his knife as leverage, and then larger pieces of rock as wedges, he began to feel the crossbow come loose in his hands. Bracing himself against the golem, he began to pull. If he had known this day would start with him stabbing a golem with arrows, and pulling a crossbow off it, he definitely would have stayed in bed.

Actually, Sasin decided, he probably would have run out of Alvadas screaming. His tail now felt very tender after being badly squished. He made a mental note never to fight a golem without weapons again. Ever. In fact, he would rather never fight a golem ever again, end of story. Either that or actually learn how to fight. He grunted as the crossbow came out with a pop, sending him backwards. Petch, it was heavy. Draping the roll of arrows over his back, he turned to look for his allies. Hopefully one of them would know how to work this damn thing.

Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he whistled sharply. "I'm alive, if anyone was wondering." He called out.

by **Iliana** on January 12th, 2012, 1:37 am

Iliana slowly stood, her hand never leaving Miro's sleeve as they stepped from the circle and followed the woman through the flow of people. As she walked the girl began pulling at her hair nervously, trying to put it into some kind of order before they came to their destination. From time to time she would shoot a side glance to the man who walked beside her, looking to see where his eyes drifted and hoping it was not to the finely dressed woman with the perfect hair, and she was not pleased upon seeing the look in Miro's eyes as he followed Alluvia down the hall... Iliana went back to working on her hair, a bit more passionately now.

Her mind thus distracted, Iliana did not notice the door appear until they were walking through it. Her eyes were then brought up from her distraction to view the rather lavished room. With just a twinge of annoyance she noticed that the drapes were purple, and the very room seemed to be made to bring out the regality of the woman who had brought them there. Once more Iliana took in her dirtied clothes and hair, though her hair was a little more presentable now than it had been. As Miro went to sit Iliana stayed close by his side, and she was quick to notice how close he chose to sit to Alluvia. A strange feeling tightened her chest, and the girl shot a glance at the woman before sitting right on the edge of Miro's own seat, though she was careful not to sit on the little Pycon.

When Iliana sat it was with more poise and grace than most would think possible for the usually energetic and bubbly girl, but despite the fact that she sat just on the edge of Miro's seat, even touching his knee with her elbow, her posture was nearly perfect. Her back straight, her legs closed and angled to the side, never crossed, and her hands folded neatly on her lab made it clear that she had had some instruction on mannerisms and the proper way to conduct ones self in a public fashion. This affect of lady like behavior, however, was also punctuated by a rather childish necessity to be as close to Miro as possible.

Iliana started when the tea suddenly appeared before her. Blinking twice, Ilian slowly reached forward and accepted the cup, the warmth of it spreading through her fingers, and as she took a sip a feeling of comfort swelled within her chest. With a bit of surprise Iliana noticed that the tea tasted similar to what her mother used to make. There was a taste of nutmeg and jasmine, and just a hint of honey to sweeten it. Sipping once more, Iliana inspected the cup as the woman continued speaking. Feeling Miro jump Iliana glanced over and spied a rather comical visage of the man being attacked by a steaming tea cup. Unable to stifle her laugh, Iliana touched her fingers to her lips to try and hide the smile, however when he tried his trick with the cup she almost fell from her perch giggling. When he slouched Iliana was surprised to find he was still on eye level with her. Shaking her head, she reached up a hand and rubbed her eyes, looking again but Miro had risen by that point. WIth a shrug the girl dismissed the occurrence. Surely it was impossible.

With her mood significantly lightend Iliana eagerly reached for a biscuit, taking one from the very top of the Pyramid and nibbling at the pastry as she looked around the room. She took it the round appearance, the lavish rugs and the woman who sat in the chair annoying close to Miro and her's... Then her eyes fell on the tea pot, and she noticed the symbol on the side. Tilting her head she examined it closer, her mind turning it over as she tried to recall what it was from.

That is the symbol of Ionu... but why is it here? Oh, did she not say we were in the Department of Illusions? Finishing off the treat, Iliana licked her fingers in a rather unlady like fashion as her eyes roamed once more, stopping on each of the guests who had come to the room with them, however her eyes quickly returned to the woman in purple once more. Narrowing her eyes Iliana tried to find something, anything, amiss with the woman, but her attention always seemed to be drawn away by the every changing colors of her dress. Shaking her head, Iliana closed her eyes and cast a plea to the heavens, Dearest Goddess, please silence the ripples of my mind so that I may see the world clearly... Opening her eyes once more Iliana went back to studying the woman as she began to talk.

When Alluvia pointed singled Iliana out for that brief moment, the girl blushed slightly and tugged on her blue hair. Shaking her head she tried to piece together what was being said, Aladas is under attack... but not by an enemy but by Illusions? But... I thought this was the CITY of Illusions, why would they be attacking? Looking around the room once more she thought to herself, And this is the Department of Illusions, so should they not be able to control these events? No... If they cannot then that means something else is going on... but what? Iliana turned her usually sparkling blue eyes turned on Alluvia suspiciously, This woman... She is not the head of this department. She does not fit the part, but if she is not the one the who-- Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knock.

A man stepped over the threshold, and the room almost seemed to vibrate in greeting. From the moment he stepped into the room Iliana felt... wrong. As the man handed Alluvia the papers and she stood to leave, the man turned his gaze on Iliana for the first and last time, but in that moment Iliana felt something... wrong in his gaze. A tremor arched up her spine she met his violet eyes, so full of cold aloofness... He almost seemed to stare through her... as if he could SEE everything she was thinking, all that she had done... As if there was nothing she could hide from him...

Iliana shrank back and clutched at Miro's arm as Flint sat in Alluvia's seat, and while he did not look at her again Iliana could not shake that feeling of cold she got from him. He is a dangerous man... she thought to herself as he spoke. His voice, however, was soft, and it wound its way into the girls ears and mind, calling out a sweet melody that made her shiver, though this was not from the cold... When he spoke Iliana could not help but listen, and though there was still a twinge of unease in the back of her mind she felt that every word the man spoke was of the gravest importance.

Looking up at Miro as he spoke, Iliana turned as if to speak herself, but the words caught in her throat as Flint's eyes met her's once more. With a visible tremor Iliana clutched Miro's sleeve tighter, almost pressing her chest against his arm as she looked anywhere but at the man. When Alluvia returned Iliana felt a sense of relief wash over her, but it was short live as the purple glad woman asked the silver tongued man to join them. Iliana was quick to notice the man's compliance to the woman, but something about how he spoke to Alluvia signaled that it was not entirely out of respect...

Shaking her head Iliana bolstered her courage to speak, though her voice trembled slightly, "Please, tell us what we can do? I know that it will be dangerous but..." Biting her lower lip Iliana faught down a rise of emotion that threatend to overwhelm her, "B-but we love this city and... and I do not wish to see it destroyed..."

It was true... Ever since her decision to leave her home and come to Alvadas, Iliana had known that the city was where she truly belonged. In her heart the young girl knew that she would give anything to help the city that had shown her so much... that had brought her to so many place and lead her to meat so man... Iliana glaced at Miro as she concluded her thoughts... This city is what brought me to all of my wonderful... friends...

Completed [Seasonal Quest] Upon a Star (Open)