Completed [Seasonal Quest] Upon a Star (Open)

[Mirage]

Forward into the press of steel the warrior fought, his blade singing through the air in a strangely beautiful dance of savagery and bloodlust. His eyes shown out in excitement, a grin fixed upon those lips as many a bellow echoed down the streets of Alvadas, and in turn the very city seemed to respond in kind. The group would make steady progress through the mass. Those that remained close behind the Myrian would have only a few stragglers to attend with, most of which would either be impaired or nearly destroyed by the man's fury. The sound of clanking metal slowly began to quiet as golem after golem fell to the wayside, a sacrifice to the God of War. Then there was a sound, or rather a resounding thud that could through the depths of the city. The buildings around the group shuddered, and then everything was sent into chaos. "WHAT THE SHITE!?" The Myrian's cry of surprised echoed as reality was twisted. The city had come alive... the buildings all began to move, to shift and alter their locations, and they all began in one sudden moment. Suddenly the building the group ran next too was no longer there, and instead they ran next to the walls of Alvadas. Then this, too disappeared and the group would find themselves dodging tables and chairs as they were shifted suddenly inside one building or another. At one point the group would find themselves running along the tops of buildings, and around them the could see the destruction of the city. Fires raged in every corner, groups of golems littered every street and alley, and a gapping crater now sat where the Colosseum once stood. What few golems followed them even now would be quickly slain in all of the confusion, and once the last golem was disposed of the city would perform its final act. Suddenly, Ulric would find the way before him blocked by the walls of Alvadas. He and Naama were separated from main group of warriors, cut off from all aid. Down a distant alley the sound of clanking could be heard closing in. No matter what direction they run the city would suddenly alter their course, sending them to strange and unexpected points within the city. From time to time they would end up running into groups of golems, but when they ran down the next alley or enter another building the city would shift them to another location, far away from the threat of further conflict. The city had chosen to aid them, but for what purpose... well that was yet to be seen.\ Then their trek would suddenly come to an end. Finally, after they had run a considerable distance, feared for their lives for more than a fair amount of time, Alvadas would place them exactly where they should be. Before them now was Ionu's Mercy. A refuge, a temple of safety. A symbol of health and well being. If any looked upon this building with the eyes of an Aurist, they would notice that the building was surrounded by a shimmering light. This was the light of a mighty shield, the strength of it causing it to glow just enough for it to also be seen by those who were observant enough. There, before the entrance to this refuge sat a man. He was large, but not in the muscular sense. Great meaty hands were folded over a substantial gut, and the dim glow of fire light glinted off of his completely bald head. He wore robes of white, adorned by the symbol of the Department of the Indeviant Body. His eyes were closed, and under his breath he hummed deep in low, a way of focusing his concentration on the shield itself. For it was him that held this great structure in place, keeping it strong against the attacks that struck it from time to time. Any who tried to penetrate this shield would be instantly repelled, thrown back by a sudden shock that coursed through their entire body. Yes, the only way to seek refuge would be to speak with the gate keeper. This man before the entrance... OOCI will be watching for both your and Naama's replies closely, and as soon as I see you both have replied to this post I will move ahead with your part of the quest. You will be getting to know some interesting NPC's very soon **** The Myrian cursed under his breath as the buildings of Alvadas began their movements, "This city be damned, now where the hell are we?" Shifting his blade so that it rested on his shoulder, the man looked about in confusion. When Ulric and Naama had been separated from their group, those that remained had suddenly found themselves directly before the Sanity Center. It stood there, completely whole, as if in defiance of the world in chaos, though within this building, and even before its entrance, it was a different form a chaos. Men and women in robes with symbols of nearly every government department ran around frantically carrying papers and shouting words to one another. Standing in the midst of all this was a single woman. Her auburn hair was tied back in a tight bun and a pair of silver glasses sat upon the bridge of her nose. In her hands she held a clipboard, and from time to time she would make a few marks, flip through the papers attached and made a few check marks. When she spoke those around her responded. It was obvious that she was the one in charge here. The Myrian slammed the tip of his sword in the ground, leaning on the hit and spitting a glob of blood filled saliva to the side. His eyes turned back over the group behind him, and from his lips came a very obvious statement "Well, that damn man fell behind, and so did his woman as well. Hope he didn't die to painful a death." Chuckling, the man turned his gaze on the woman in the middle of the milling crowd. His eyes scrolled up and down her full figure, taking in the fit of her dark robes and the symbol there in. She was one of the Census Bureau. Taking a deep breath, the men send out a shout, a bellow that echoed clear across the space between the group and the Sanity center, "HEY GORGEOUS! You the one in charge? The crowd was suddenly silent, all halting to look at the man who had spoken. Those closest to the woman shot her a wary glance and took a few steps back. The woman turned her eyes toward the man who had spoken out so rudely, pushing her spectacles up higher on her nose to get a better look. With a snap of her fingers the crowd was sent once more into a frenzy of flying paper and words, and with easy strides the woman made her way toward the group. Stopping a few strides from the Myrian (who stood at the head of this little band), the woman lowered her gaze to her clipboard and flipped through a few pages. Clearing her throat, she spoke in a calm voice, "Hello, I am Nami Cloveris, Supervisor of the Census Bureau of Counterfactual Denominations, and yes, She shot a quick look at the Myrian before once more looking at her clipboard, "I am currently in charge of this area. Now, please state your names and conditions. If any of you are severly injured we shall see you transported to the Ionu's Mercy." The Myrian laughed, sending Nami a wink and flashing a toothy grin, "I love a woman in charge. They are always so... dominating." A hearty chuckled echoed from his lips, and he leaned further on his blade, his eyes never leaving Nami's. The woman, however, took no interest in the Myrian what so ever. Nami's eyes looked over each person who spoke their names, locking eyes with each individual in turn. Her gaze was strong, steady and piercing, as if she could see into the very depths of their souls. As she examined each individual she would make a few notes on the clip board, nodding and them moving on to the next until all were recorded. Finally she turned her eyes on the Myrian, looking him up and down with a look that spoke of her thoughts for this brash and loud man, "And what was your name?" Straightening, the man rolled his shoulders and and nodded, looking serious for the first time, "I am Zaragosh. Zaragosh Kortz. It is a pleasure to meet such a lovely woman such as yourself." Then the grin was in place once more, and Zaragosh gave Nami a wink. However, Nami was once more staring at her clipboard, completely oblivious of any and all advances that the man made. Finally her scriblings came to a halt and she nodded, looking up at the group before her, "Alright, if you would all follow me then. There is someone who has been wishing to speak with you, though how he knew you were coming is beyond me." With that she turned on her heel and began walking back toward the Sanity center, making it clear that the others were to follow. Zaragosh snorted and hefted his blade on his shoulder, turning his head to speak with Jaeden, "I think she likes me, eh?" And with that he too followed after Nami's gate. OOCFor those of you who have read up on Zaragosh, yes he is a bit different from his write up. However, at this moment he is not head of the Department of Law. Don't worry, everything shall be made clear soon . **** OOCThis is a very short section just for you Bob Whatever Bob's decisions, the city would respond in kind. If he made to run in the opposite direction of the battle the city would send him back into the midst of it all. If he attempted to hide inside he would constantly find himself standing back outside of a building even closer than he was before. It was obvious that the city wished for Bob to follow the group, and so no matter the efforts Bob made he would always find himself back among the group with the Myrian and the other adventurers, eventually finding himself at the Sanity Center as well. OOCHave fun with this Bob. Do anything you want, run around in circles if you feel like it, but no matter what you will always end up back with the main group

[Alric Wilmot]

As Alric said his piece, he began to lose his dizziness. His head felt clearer with ever bite of purple stew. He thought it might be in his head, but the stew seemed to actually strengthen him. He continued in silence as the others spoke, no one acknowledging his words. He supposed that was for the best. After all, this people were strangers, and he a stranger to them. He supposed it was lucky that they thought little of Hypnotists. Though, Alric could see why they might not give it a thought this day. Shale spoke then, explaining that they were resting in the home of the Womiyu, Alvadas's police force. It also seemed as if this was their food. Again, Alric wondered if the stew had any special properties, as he was struck with how clear the Kelvic's words were becoming. Lastly, he spoke of Drysalla, an old hypnotist of great power. Alric rose an eyebrow but did not interfere. He did not see how a hypnotist could cause so much destruction. Apparently, she was back from the dead, and not back at the same time. A normal man might try to see how such a paradox could actually be, but Alric just accepted it. Any answers would please him today. Even if they were a little odd. ”Now, none of us know for sure where these bones are. Some legends even say that Ionu themselves took Drysallas body and buried it in illusion, but the Sealed Grounds is as good a place to look than any.” he started but was cut off by a soft voice. A small girl spoke, ”The Sealed Grounds is where some of my friends are. They will help us find Drysalla's Bones” and then she disappeared, only to reappear by the vantha, Eridanus, he remembered. She spoke of joining them, and helping them. Alric nodded, but said nothing. She was marked by Ionu, at least, he assumed she was from the way she could reappear and vanish. She would be useful. Unlike himself, if he didn't finish this...stew. Alric looked forlornly into his empty bowl. He felt much better, but he didn't feel quite recovered. He picked up his bowl and looked about, trying to find if there was any more purple stew. Unfortunately, there was not. With a heavy sigh, Alric sat back down. As he was no longer preoccupied by eating, he began to actually observe his group. What a sorry lot. All of them were either exhausted or wounded. And the female Symenestra might have been both. Observing them all, Alric realized that he was actually one of the ones better off. Another testament to the horrors of today, he supposed. He shook his head, he was becoming so pessimistic. Yet, what was he supposed to become? He had witnessed death for the first time, and in such magnitude. His place of worship had been demolished. And worst of all, his beloved mask and hat were gone, sucked away to another world never to be seen again. Didn't he deserve to be a little pessimistic? It was not long after Shale had spoken that a group of the Womiyu's most fearsome division, the Silencers, lead them out of their temporary shelter. Alric did not want to go, and that bothered him. Didn't he strive for knowledge? Didn't he want to know more about Drysalla, and this strange underground lair? He had never been here before, hadn't even known it existed until just a few minutes ago. And he didn't want to learn? Alric forced himself to move, if only to prove to himself that his resolve was strong. He began to question that resolve, as the building behind him faded, leaving him stranded with a group of complete strangers

[Ulric]

Forsaken by the city, they delved into fractal, scalding cataracts of bronzed simulacra, whose elongated plates were already dismantling the ciphers, dredging away mystique. There wasn’t any respite. The jerky revenants of what’d clung to these lanes, starkly nebulous in their mired intensity, deferred to defined atrocity. The myriad hues sluiced to gray. Harshly fusing, the blocks impeded their way. They leave us, he rasped, trying to steady himself on the rocks. They leave me to die. They’ve usurped my prophecy. That was their mistake. Fury boiled up in his chest, like a sprawl of ruddy coals. Harshly, it seared what lingered of him, leaving only the ulcer of his disregard. They would have a reckoning.

But for now, the chimera was groaning like a ship’s bilge giving way. There wasn’t any way out of this. There was only his will, defying the quill of fate. Those eyes began to smolder, with the acerbity of a man disdained by the gods and left to perish in misery. This was the visage of his ferocity, reformed from mounds of waning embers. And plagued by this veracity, he couldn’t relent.

Ulric jostled his body by the clefts, scaling the vulgar slants of rubble, tangles of motley gears. The rags of viscera hanging from sooty, dented jinks of metal, barely caught his gaze. There was only a veil of dullness, and the rosy tinge of his fervor. The folds, deftly marbled of chaos, sloughed away from his wake. There was only a lost man, his every stagger a testimony of weakness, yet beyond the frayed wires of his obduracy, they crashed with a thunder. They were ensnared by a dream, fading to dark tapestries of neglect. The grit choked him. Those lanes just dissolved around his prying, and the crows, so discordant in their prophecy, went quiet. There was before him was the swing of a giant pendulum, the slowing of time. Turgidly, its brass flashed before him, and he gazed at it, left rapt by its infancy. Like a man cast of lead, he delved into the rust, yet for what he searched, there was no gleaning.

They weep, he giggled. The crows see, but they won’t speak. They’ve seen my pity.

Madly, he wished he were carrion. Raw slivers of flesh, vanishing into their beaks. That way, he’d be reformed into feathers and fluted bones, clad by those beady, impenetrate eyes that were always on his back, adjudicating. There couldn’t be a god of crows. They, if anything, had to be free. They were the eaters of carrion, the final remnant. These peaks, inevitably, would be reduced to cinders, but these crows? They’d survive.

“Feast,” he bade them. The cackle, so dire in its raving, scraped from the rawest of chests. There was only the soldier’s eventual, dying glee that derived of the loss of his name from all memory. There wasn’t any scroll glyphed by the fallen, just the empty sift of ashes and dust. They’d shunned him, hated him, and like tawdry pigeons they’d perished under his fury.

And yet, it felt like japery.

The bitter end. That was just a duller augur, left fuzzy by the confounding of his soul’s elegy. There was no ferryman for him yet, just a very fat man, and a raveling of dancing lanterns. That belly jutting in corpulent mantra, the sags and folds like putty. They called to him. Their coils of inky hairs, the vapidity of the pasty coverings. They’d pilfered his scepter, this hierophant of the sick, the dying. The last, repentant warder.

Desires surged up in him, bereft of meaning, yet conjuring what he’d long before. Those flayed shreds of flesh, and the twisted limbs of the deformed. They’d made a carapace of their grotesquery.

Nearing, he lifted his eyes. “I’ve come,” he grated, wringing up flecks of ruddy phlegm. “I’ve come… to save.. the broken things.”

[Eridanus]

Kasai-Dala MirrorI actually missed out OOCily that Antar had the mirror. However Fally said that the Eri should have been aware of that due to its strong djed emanations or something, so I'll try to fit in Eri noticing it without it being too jarring ICily.

The ethaefal's nerves had been high-strung throughout the whole series of incidents, from the start when he had been battling bloodthirsty golems to the strange discussion in the Asylum to how he had been led by the city to the Temple and now ending up in the residence of the secret police. Now that he had the time to calm down, he realized that the strange tingling feeling in his body did not disappear along with his adrenaline.

Glancing around the group suspiciously, he closed his eyes gently, calming his breathing and slowly ignoring each of his physical sense one by one until all he could focus on was the weak djed sensitivity all magic practitioners have, as well as the slightly stronger but still weak djed sensitivity that aurists passively possess.

It took him quite a while to figure out internally the direction of the source of the minute disturbance that unsettled him while Shale droned on, and he faced his head towards that direction, opening his eyes to find Antar.

Eri's eyes widened in surprise, and he began to channel djed into his eyes, feeling his field of vision narrowing until it was a sort of tunnel vision that only featured the white-haired man. Antar was munching on some sort of pastry while listening to Shale, but Eri was not observing that. No, he was gradually becoming in-sync with the magical world and astral bodies, and as he tuned into the 'zone' he began to visualize the rogue's aura.

It was a larger than normal aura that seethed with a forceful intensity, an aura that no normal civilian should have. Eri expected that of course, for he already knew that Antar was a mage. Wizards tended to have stronger auras than normal people. However, there was something in the man's torso area that compelled Eri to glance it at in curiosity.

It was a roughly oval shaped thing, emanating an oval-shaped aura that seemed to be separate from Antar's. As Eri began to transfer his focus from Antar's aura to this anomaly's aura, he felt a sudden sharp pain in his eyes, and instinctively he closed his eyes, shutting down all djed that was flowing.

He could not stop his sudden yell of pain that happened however, but he maintained the state he was in, forcing himself to regulate his breathing as he gently balanced the tangle of djed around head. Opening his eyes, he found his vision much lighter than usual, as if everyone was wearing white.

"What... what is that?" The ethaefal croaked at Antar, one finger pointing towards the rogue's chest while his other hand massaged his temples furiously.

Regardless, Shale began to hurry the group to this Sealed Grounds, when the girl that saved Eridanus and Ihnar earlier on appeared and announced her intention to help. Like Shale, the ethaefal was inwardly relieved that Menna decided to follow them from the Asylum. The word 'cemetary' and 'danger' naturally combined together to form the words 'undead' or 'ghost', and if Menna had friends there she was most likely a spiritist of some sort or a respectably charismatic person with powerful connections. Either way it would be a boon to the group.

Silently, the ethaefal followed the group as they exited the wondrous architecture and design of the Womiyu, and they soon entered a sinister looking forest with gnarled branches that warned of danger.

Soon, they reached a giant crypt, and again Eridanus felt a tingle in his body.

oocWhat Eri sees here has been approved by Fally.

Glyphs of all sorts decorated the entire compound, but even more alarming was the vast amount of soulmist draped all over the glyphs, the crypt, and the ground surrounding the decrepit building. It did not take an expert to feel the pure power emanating from the soulmist, and the ethaefal instinctively knew that this was no normal soulmist.

He could not see the soulmist of course, not without using auristics which he was loathe to do. On their way here his vision had just began to recover, and he did not want to risk his vision unnecessarily. It was more like a feeling, for he had created soulmist before, though the ones he created paled vastly in comparison.

"Something... is very strange here," Eridanus muttered.

[Antar]

oocNPC interaction approved by Fallacy When Eri turned towards him, and attempted to speak, Antar struck like a cat, muffling the man’s words with a cold plated gauntlet over his mouth before drawing him close in a rather brotherly headlock as he turned him towards Shai’s location in the alcove where she was beginning to return to some semblance of order. Gruffly, and rather harshly as if dismissing the man’s outbursts like it was an ill timed joke Antar muttered, ”That my friend, is a rather beautiful woman you shouldn’t be ogling at all! Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?! Besides, I told you not to stare at my heart's blood before on the road, it's unbecoming of you!” In a smaller voice before throwing the man away, Antar would hiss a whisper, “I don’t know what it is exactly yet, I just know it’s a piece of the puzzle. I suspect there’s a connection between it, and the rogue illusionist we were brought here to find. It’s bad enough this Drysalla wench or whatever she was named and other old legends are roaming around, but I desperately am searching for answers, so shut up and be assured we’ll compare notes later. Don’t give away anything about the job out in the open again or I’ll tan ‘yar hide! It’s unprofessional, Damnit! You’re a much better merc then that, and remember when I said to use less! Try to start that now too! I’m not going to have any apprentice of sorts die by being a foolhardy bastard this day!” With those words, Antar would release Eri and push him to stumble forwards after Meena as they exited the Silencers abode. He took a hard look towards Alric and the dhani. In a moment or two the expression softened as he winked and quipped to them both, ”Don’t worry fellas stick close. I got an idea.” After ensuring Shai was following close he turned his attention back what direction he presumed a mysterious little girl was going. They were heading towards a crypt, and its entrance so he assumed 'Meena' would be heading in that direction as well. Unsure whether this was going to give him a headache or not, especially after Eridanus seemed blined... damn fool was probably not going to find anything with auristics at all anytime soon. Oh well, no matter. He knew the mercenary had other talents at his disposal , just like Antar did. At least Antar did not have the ability yet to see the aura's of objects... at least not before at least, so it was likely the mirror wouldn't infringe upon his paltry abilities at all. Breathing deeply he began concentrating in front of the group where no one was at. Slowly he shunt a few wisps of the last of his reserve of djed towards his eyes, just enough to get a brief glimpse of the some visual cacophony of colors of a being where one shouldn't be. A mixture of reddish mahogany swirled with the chaotic hues of ashen gray and a mix of other colors he could not identify. However, that brief moment of intrigue did allow him to see the shimmering haze over the invisible child's form; a series of spun interlocking threads of silver and gold. The telltale form of a shield. Not wanting to press his luck further he closed his eyes and walked forwards a little blindly for a few paces as he released the wisps of djed back into the main streams of his body, slowly, as if he was merely breathing. Not using it, just letting it coast and weave itself to his senses in a relaxing manner. By the tenth step the rogue had opened his eyes to the cry of a jackdaw crow, and speaking lightly he muttered a moment's passing to the girl that shadowed the party, playing the silent protector and scout it seemed. "Child, I wonder, why do you stay shielded as you walk? Even amidst those that wish to keep you from harm as you seem to want to keep us from? It would be difficult to help or even stay close to you inside if you're constantly fading from our sight. Perhaps you would care to walk with us a little?" The strangest thing occurred as perhaps the others looked at him askew... Meena seemed to take him up on his offer in the most peculiar of ways. The portions of her cloaked form which were invisible to sight and sound seemed to stop in a single localized area, an area about chest high and no bigger than six inches as the party was granted a strange lifeless stare... It seemed the girl had revealed the puppet instead of her full self and for now it was waving to them in a strange hello and come over here gesture.... It was kind of cute in a morbid sort of way, as the flesh of the puppets face and tiny hands seemed real, and were ornamented with a few broad stitches which were reminiscent of those found on Frankenstein’s monster. In fact, the hand puppet even had shoes and a dress which seemed to mimic the girl's own as well... at least from the sparse view she had presented before. Her words came out in stuttering steps, "We go into the ghostly place now." The puppet was pointing towards the large banded iron doors that marked the entrance to the stone and alabaster edifice. "Many tombs, many friends. Don't worry, you all stick close to Meena and Meena keep you safe. Meena promises. But beware the bad friends and the unfriends though. " The tiny doll crossed it arms over its mouth as if it was gasping, "If they give us a problem, stay close! Understand?!?" The doll emphasized the words with a stern pointing too at all of them, shaking its tiny arm to punctuate the girl's words, [color=tan]"Stay close!" By this time the party had caught up to her and Antar had reflexively taken to walking to one side of the showing puppet, and gestured with his eyes for Shai to take the other. With those who fought in the temple's abilities somewhat beleagured by their ordeals it would be up to Eridanus to take the guard position up front, and maybe Shai , with her other talents would prove an able scout as well, even though that meant she might be moving too and fro the child's side at times, staying closer when things were dangerous. He was unsure if he should say anything to either of them, or whether they might grasp such an idea on their own. They were both professionals after all. The only bad thing about this circumstance was that wherever Shai went , he might not prevent Dhalvasha from following. Whatever the case, Antar now thought of the child and Shai as both very important people he wished to protect today, though Truth be told he couldn't care about the other symenestran of the group and he knew the dhani, the hypnotist, and the ethfael could protect themselves... right? He hoped so at least. To try to make a little small talk as they came to the closed aperture to the crypts, Antar would ask. "So tell me Meena, how old are you anyways? Why would a child like you come down here to make some friends?" Meena would mumble something about that this was where the friends of hers were , yet there were a few bad apples in there that tried to hurt people. Apparently a mage long ago lay glyphed D-wire in patterns and covered it in soulmist to make souldarts, though apparently the seals were refreshed every once in a while by a family of alvadas who was proficient in such things. The Craven family… Antar wondered where he had heard the name before, it had seemed so familiar. No matter, turning towards the others; Antar would clear his throat, “May I suggest that we endeavor to keep ourselves to our strengths while keeping the lil’ lady safe? Eridanus is best suited as a vanguard, Shai can scout if she wishes. You Nyahna are built like one of the best bruisers I’ve ever seen, heck if we can find an old shield inside for you, you’d be perfect for battering aside anything which got close. I’m sure Alric and I can support things at range as well. What do you all think?” Just as he finished speaking he turned to brush his hand against the marble of the crypt as something seemed to turn his vision white... and another vision took his senses... oocInteractions with Meena approved by Fallacy. Sorry this took so long guys, got a new nephew last week and running around like crazy to help my brother and his wife with homecooked meals etc. .

[Fallacy]

The Triad- Council Room "Is that so?" Shylock laughed, "Alluvia went there?' The room was triangular shaped and at each point of the room sat a raised chair, all equal, all of the same shifting design. Illusion was as much of this place as the rest of Alvadas, and it was here the Triad held council to decide on the more pressing matters. Filling one of the three chairs was none other than Madam Shylock, the eldest of the Triad. The other two seats, thrones in their own right, remained empty. In the center of the room were a group of people, the sign of the listeners at their back, all sitting in front of the Madam Shylock, facing her, relaying information. "And the Silencers, have they found him?" she asked, "And what of the Mirror? Do we have the mirror in our possession yet?" all these were key pieces in Shylocks plan. The Kasai-Dala Mirror was much too powerful, that is why the Triad sealed it away long ago. "The rouge has not been Silenced yet." they reported, "And the mirror has not yet been found by our units yet. There are reports however, idol gossip, that the mirror was picked up by a white haired man. A foreigner to Alvadas, no records of him exist within the Bureau besides a small note that he arrived shortly before this incident." Shylock nodded, her silence filled with deep introspection and thought. The report continued as the gears in the Eldest Triad were turning, calculating, plotting, "If the mirror is still in his possession or not is unclear." With that Shylock laughed, "It is quite obvious the man still has the mirror." she stated the group fell silent, "The Illusions have not made their next move yet..." there was obviously something bothering her, something that did not quite add up, "Though whoever is masquerading this from the shadows is quite skilled in the art of misdirection. The golems, the illusions, everything is a distraction for something more..." She paused "But what if not the destruction of Alvadas?" she brooded on this and the group continued their repot with a new member stepping forward. "You think tha..." Shylock nodded, "The rogue agent, yes." she was putting the puzzle together. "We need more information." she said, "Gather all intelligence on the rogue agents.” this time it was multiple agents, ” I want to know everything. Contact the Bureau and ask for their assistance in this regard." Her hand reached out, holding a sealed letter in it. One of the agents took it, "This arrived earlier today." she said, "I resealed it." the shifting brand of the Triad swirled on the wax which sealed the letter, "He is returning come sunrise. Deliver that to dear Alluvia, if you'd please. This has just as much to do with her as it does with me." The Sealed Grounds The crows kept up their chatter, cawing their disapproval at the group, a more than verbal warning, but they had to proceed. The door was sealed shut, and it seemed more than just physical means sealed it. The door having glyphs painted on it, the tiny hovering doll made its way over to it and reached out its little hand, touching one glyph. It glowed with power before disappearing, the other glyphs glowed one by one and followed the firsts example. With the last of the glyphs on the door disappearing the doll, and along with it Menna, turned around and it did a little curtsey, ”My friends will be happy to see us.” which was mostly true. As the glyphs vanished a fog could be seen spilling from every crease in the door, rushing out to meet the land, covering once more the sealed grounds as the doors began to creak open by themselves, ”The sealed door has been opened.” it seemed everything here was Sealed this and Sealed that. Why with all the seals? Well, the group would soon find out. With that the little dolls head moves as if the small thing was actually looking at everyone before it waved an arm and turned around, scuttling into the building. The floor of the crypt was made of giant marble stone tiles, grooves could be felt as they walked over it, more glyphs, but the ever present mist which covered the ground prevented them from seeing their own feet, wisps of the mist crawled up the groups legs, little fingers running up towards freedom, but as if losing all strength at the knee they ones more dropped into the mist below. The mist seemed to glow providing a dull light for all those to see. Eridranus who had gazed upon the mirrors aura would see that his vision was impaired. The aura was quite a powerful one and now the source of light, the mist on the ground, seemed to cause the man to see spots, shadows on the wisps of his vision. Not only that but he had grown light sensitive causing him some pain and prompting him to close his eyes when light flooded his vision. This all was accompanied with the feeling of nauseousness, slight dizziness, and the urge to vomit what he had just ate. Though despite all this there was a feeling of power, a sign that whatever he saw on Antar was much more powerful than he could imagine, but also a warning sign, a red flag, that the bite of overgiving was coming soon. Antar even before he could step foot within the ancient crypt was bombarded with another message, a vision from the mirror at his breast. Overlaying itself over reality ghostly images started to appear as the past was replayed in front of the rogues eyes. He saw everything which had occurred this day, from the golems positioning themselves to blow up the Temple and the Colosseum, to the seer again, to Verlyna rising out of the pond after taking the life of the playful couple, to Drysalla and her confrontation of Miro and what happened to them, to the point of interest… Before him dark caverns sprung to life as the image of Alluvia came into view. Her dress was oddly plain and her expression was quite serious. Before her, flames licked the floor, surrounding the young leader as she stood before Angi of fire, one of the great four elementals, towering far higher than one could ever look. Bright light from the fire filled the mans eyes as the scene began to play out. ”Angi, I beseech you and call you once again towards the service of the Triad and all of Alvadas.” her words were ”Great fire guardian,” she kneeled along with the Head of the Department of Illusions who was standing by her, arms crossed, ”Lend me and lend Alvadas your power…” her voice was filled with emotion but it got harder and harder to hear her as the scene began to fade and ‘reality’ once more began to sink in, taking preference over the mirrors vision… The group now found themselves inside the crypt, moans and welcomes and cries mixed with the solemn air of this place, calling to the living, to the new visitors. Great pillars of stone rose from the marble floor, holding the ceiling up. On all sides of the adventurers were the coffins, some made of rotted decayed wood, while others were made of a fine polished stone, of those who were laid to rest in this place. A giant room greeted them, one much bigger than the outside of the crypt would have let on, another trick of the city. The pillars themselves were too glyph covered, from top to bottom, and they seemed to shift, ever moving in the blink of an eye. Though the pillars shifted the coffins that lined the walls stayed their place. Menna advanced, her little doll mimicking all the motions that she was doing. It then stopped as a voice called out to them, the group, ”Go away.” it roared, ”Menna and her friends are not welcome here at this time…” the grim warning was accompanied by what sounded like shifting chains dragging on the floor of the crypt, hidden by the eerie mist. The rattling would continue and echo throughout the great hollow crypt, and then slowly, like a head emerging from still waters, the beginnings of a lattice of chain began to rise, a great net containing and keeping things under. It rose and it rose taller and taller, higher and higher, a great mass of soulmist caught under it, many faces, many forms, but one mass like they joined together. As the being rose and the great net of chains tried to keep it bound down more and more of the linked metal could be seen rising. The room was covered in it and they were rising from the ground as the mass continued to tower over the new arrivals, "We are the Keepers" the same voice announced, "We are many who are one, united in our cause. Turn back now or face the consequences." More chains began to snake up, showing themselves out of the mist. "United we stand, long and forever guarding from those who seek to steal from the dead." he said, "Leave, we wont repeat ourselves." with that a chain slammed against a pillar, cracking it, cutting into it, and then, slowly as more pressure was applied, went though it. The pillar crumbled, but soon repaired itself the scene playing out like a rewind of the whole event. It seemed these groups of ghosts manipulated the chains found in the room. If they even uttered a word of refusal, or tried to explain the offending person would find themselves lashed at by a multitude of chains going at such speeds and with such power it would have been hard to dodge just one. "Leave or join the ranks of the dead" it would bellow. This ghost, or ghosts, was beyond reason it seemed. Menna backed away slowly, the little doll in her hands slowly fading back out of sight. "You think you can hide from us, Menna? Not when soulmist pours from the essence of this place. Your movements can all too easily be tracked by the parting of the mist." This much was true. Although she made herself invisible she couldnt hide from all the ghosts, not in this place. A chain rose in response and lashed it way at the invisible girl. Though it suddenly diverted direction just enough to miss Menna. Baffled there was only the rattling of more and more chains as they rose like snakes from the mist, "You dont have enough friends in the world to protect you from us" the Keepers responded lashing out again, but again the chain was diverted, smashing into a pillar and crushing it. It only takes a little bit of influence once an object is flying to redirect it. Menna then showed herself, invisibility wasnt going to help her here. Long brown hair was a mess on her head, easily going down to the middle of her back. She was young looking, but not a child, if barely a teenager. Her expression was confused but she pointed to mass of soulmist which called itself the keeper and announced, "This is an unfriend. Be careful." With that a throwing dagger was produced and thrown at the ghost, easily stopped in midair then dropped to the ground with a clang.

[Jaeden Kincade]

Jaeden’s bow had been nocked with another arrow by the time the buildings had started shifting again, his feet planting firmly along the ground as he felt Red’s back press up against his, both of them watching each other’s blind spots as they waited for that potential moment when the shifting of the city might carry them into the middle of another large battle. Both of them found their bodies relaxing once again, however, when they found themselves in front of the Sanity Center as the bustle of activity were immediately seen as men in robes directed citizens and other city officials. Red released a sigh as she leaned a little more heavily into Jaeden’s back as the Myrian yelled out, spitting to the ground. Jaeden simply fell silent, slipping his arrow back into it’s quiver before reaching into a pouch at his belt, pulling out a small rag from within. He took the momentary breather to wipe his face clean. He came to stop, handing Red his waterskin as she began to take a healthy pull from it while Nami and the Myrian had their little exchange. Jaeden’s eyes wandered for a moment, noting those who had been separated.

Not only did Ulric and his companions seem to be missing, but Jaeden no longer noticed Kamalia among them anymore either. He would have to search for her later on. As it stood now, with the chaos going on and the threats currently around each corner, it was unlikely Jaeden would find her in the shifting city unless she cut loose with her own magic. In which case she would have likely given in to her darker temptations of magic, and he would chance conflict with her in order to bring her back to her normal self.

Finally, Nami and the Myrian, who Jaeden now learned was named Zaragosh, had finished their verbal exchanges before Nami directed them to follow her. Jaeden reached out, grasping the waterskin once again as Red handed back, dragging her wrist over her mouth. Jaeden’s gaze then moved to Zaragosh as he made his remark upon his possible intimate relations with Nami. “I’m a wilderness guide,” Jaeden said as he took a slow long draw of water himself before placing his waterskin back to its place at his belt, “what makes you think I know anything about women and their desires?”

Jaeden then felt a small nudge of Red’s elbow into his stomach as she began to follow Nami in step with Jaeden. “Flirt.” Jaeden remarked to Red.

As they all entered into the Sanity Center, Jaeden slowly looked around, taking note of who was inside, how many, where they stood and the structure itself. It was a usual habit of his, especially when he was involved in events such as this day was presenting. It helped him think on his feet. Know where he could move, who he could direct Red to go after, cover he could find. He didn’t suspect he would find conflict within, but with an attack of this scale within the city itself, he wouldn’t stand completely relaxed.

[Eridanus]

This. Was. Insane.

An unknown hostile began to form, and Eri's senses screamed danger. He had not faced such a concentration of soulmist even when he was ghost-hunting back in Avanthal. The pure power being generated from the montrosity forming in front of the group put all of Eri's logical faculties on high alert, and inwardly he shivered in fear.

So this is what power feels like.

"Feels like the twentieth day back in Sunberth, doesn't it?" The ethaefal muttered to Antar and Shai, referring to the day when mist covered the city and when they similarly battled ghosts in order to save themselves and the city.

The huge collection of chains exchanged words with Menna, before lashing out and destroying a pillar. Eridanus blinked. The chains moved at such inhumane speed and with such ridiculous power that it made his skin crawl. There was no guarantee that they were going to survive this unless they put in their all as a group. Then maybe, just maybe, they could get out intact.

Menna produced a dagger, which the ethaefal logically deduced as something that could possibly hurt their ancient foe. Her affiliation with ghosts meant that she was most definitely a spiritist, and he knew that normal weapons cannot possibly hurt ghosts. The weapon she used therefore must therefore logically hurt ghosts.

He did not move his body, but was already channeling the flux strands in his body, pulling the astral streams from his left arm and his torso towards his legs. As body was still, but his soul was not, and he fought hard to maintain his concentration within the chaos and destruction.

The moment she threw the dagger, the ethaefal burst out in a sprint, following the path of the dagger, his enhanced speed allowing him to be merely behind the thrown projectile. The dagger stopped in mid-air mysteriously, but that did not confound the ethaefal, for he had calculated that outcome as one of the possible consequences of Menna's attack. As it began to drop onto the floor harmlessly, he used his right arm to grab the dagger as it was falling, simultaneously changing his direction of motion to to the side towards a pillar.

There was a rumble as the ghost realized that Menna's attack was merely a distraction, and it began to focus its attention on him.

Eridanus ran. He ran like his life depended on it, which it definitely did. Reaching the pillar in a matter of a few seconds, he was now either at the ghost's flank if the ghost focused on Menna, or Menna was now at the ghost's flank if it turned its attention to him. Running up and kicking off the pillar in a fluid motion, the ethaefal flipped over in a wall-tuck just as a bunch of chains swished through the air to destroy the very pillar that he jumped off from.

Completing the acrobatic maneuver, he used his right arm to throw the dagger at the ghost as hard as he could, doing it while running back to Menna for staying in one spot was suicide. Not bothering to see if he hit or missed, his flux-powered legs kept pumping. It was difficult to miss after all, not at that proximity and taking the ghost's size into consideration.

Adrenaline pumped as he sped towards Menna, his only hope of salvation, and another bunch of chains slammed onto the ground just where he was a split-second ago, the ethaefal only dodging by a hair's breadth because of the boost granted by flux; any lesser and he would be minced meat.

Jumping in a dive roll, he launched himself off the floor behind Menna just as another bunch of chains slammed towards him. The ghost managed to catch up with his motion, but fortunately he was already near the child and the chains were redirected by the mysterious force that Menna used to protect herself earlier.

Panting heavily from the burst in exertion, the ethaefal began to draw the djed back to their normal positions, while his eyes scanned his surroundings quickly as he reoriented himself.

"Auristics, Antar! Weaknesses! Anything!" He shouted jaggedly to the rogue as he sought to recover his breath as fast as he could. His sight was still partially impaired from staring at the strange object Antar possessed, and he did not want to risk his eyesight using Auristics. It might or might not work, but if Antar managed to discover some sort of weakness they could utilize, the group's survival chance would improve tremendously.

[Bob Barton]

It was crazy time all over again, even crazier than anything that would happen if Bob followed that berserker. Forget what he said about keeping close, Bob has visited tons of places to know better than to try his luck with that. The man would sooner slash into anyone near him just like the golems in his pursuit of fun. As much as Bob would like witnessing someone like Ulric getting killed in the crossfire, he decided to play it safe and went towards the opposite direction alone. All the other idiots can get take his share of the shyke as far as he was concerned.

No one would believe him if he said that no matter how far he went, the laughter was was following him. He would even swear he heard a WT- moment being cried out there somewhere in the background. Of course that was only after Bob got past his own golems first since there was no one to take care of those for him. Seeing one of the large groups in front of him he had the ingenious idea to move through the buildings and ducked in before any of them caught sight of him which worked pretty well if only he was not outside again. In fact there was no inside of the building at all! Only a walls and doorframe for no apparent reason other than to separate the golem side with the non golem side.

With no where else to go but the seemingly safe looking streets, Bob warily went onwards and it was a good thing he did because when he was passing by a building he could hear some noise. "Golems?" he asked himself when he looked for some way to hide himself out in the open until he saw a table flying through a window for his own "What The!?" moment when he ducked wondering what exactly was going on when more furniture was flying through the windows. At least with only needing to watch through the openings in the wall, Bob could narrow down where he needed to look out for dangers, ducking, dodging and moving where needed until he passed this stage.

Only to find some people walking on the roof in front of him. He tried calling them but he was ignored so who cares about them? Continuing on through the ruined and desolate streets he came across them over and over again. Really a thing for the roofs that was for sure. Did they really think that being there would save them from the golems? Those mechanical abominations had crossbows if Bob remembered correctly and it should be easy for them to pick off people who were out in the open. For Bob it did not matter much since it means there would be less of a chance for him to be targeted but he quickened his pace nonetheless because if he ran into those same golems on the ground, it would be easier for those with the swords to get to him.

After a long run through Alvadas, Bob found out that the princess is in anothe...wait no! He found himself looking right at the berserker closing towards the Mercy "butbutbutbutbut...." how much he hated Alvadas even if it has been helping him to avoid the golems in a sense. Defeated he watched the group moving into the building noticing that Ulric was missing after most of the people were through. His stinky, tattered and rugged person nowhere to be found. There really was justice in Alvadas after all! Leaving Sunberth behind must have been one of the best decisions he had ever made in his life.

It also meant that they would be safer from the Shorty McCrankypants which sent in his golems unless he bore a grudge for Bob tossing the paint. Satisfied, Bob went into the Mercy like everyone else to give his name and condition when he found out that he had to, not that he did not mind since it gave him a chance to ask "do you want to know where I live too in case you need something after all of this?" Everything Bob learned from Zeltiva, the best was the serious ones were the most fun once they cut loose.

[Antar]

oocSorry for the delay As they began to enter the crypt of the dead, Antar would lag slightly behind, leaning on the wall as things, more visions, assaulted his senses. Pictures, mirrors of the happenings of the day, flitted by too fast for him to fully comprehend as they became nestled somewhere between the conscious and the subconcious. It still hurt, even as he asked the others to defend Meena, but what was it all about? He tried to make sense of it all, half listening to the Keepers as he pondered what he had been shown. ... three. He knew that much, there had been three threats that resonated in his soul. A master of golems, a seductress of the voice who seemed to be able to control others, like alric could maybe? Maybe more? And then there was dryslla. Plans for something in ristage telling the seductress of words not to come back if she failed? What did it all mean? Was the city telling him to get rid of these thrngs? Was it the mirror messing with his head? It was just all petching confusing! Like grasping at straws that whirled round and round inside his head and he couldn't make them stop! But then, as with all things, the momentary weakness subsided and he considered hearing the words of what was around him again as he numbly followed at Meena's side. Shaking all thoughts from his head, Antar finally was able to concentrate enough to hear the Keeper's last words and see Eridanus' charge... 'Bloody idiot, meatbag. I said you could be a vanguard, not get yarself targeted like that.' Antar thought to himself as Eridanus began his wild charge yelling and screaming as he went... 'Stop that, my head hurts enough already. What in the world were those visions? Why had a woman wanted a heart of the city? Even before the man had taken his first three strides Antar's voice was carrying out over the cold din of the mists, "Weakeness? Why would I need to See it to know that it's just like any other enemy? Spread out, saturate it's defenses! Alric Fire! Nyahna, toss some bloody rocks or beat those tendrils back with your dagger! Shai... Try to see if you can bring some of the roof down on it or start throwing some daggers. We have to distract it enough for Meena to take it out!" Unslinging his bow, the rogue would notch one of the arrows he hadn't taken from the golems and fire it towards the center of the thing's mass. It seemed to stop, just beside the first thrown dagger. But that wasn't Antar's concern. Like clockwork, methods of practice began to take over as muscle memory came to the fore. Pacing to the side of Meena, he staggered his advance in his firing arc, letting his steps meander diagonally out in an eliptic and then back towards the girl. Notching and firing arrows at the walk while ducking randomly to the sides when he sensed the disturbance of air currents coming his way on his skin. He couldn't dodge them all, these misty tendrils in the air were bound to catch up with him. But what his efforts of movement did do was allow him to escape with only glancing blows on his armor. Granted, they hurt like hell and he'd be sure to have a few bruises as he ventured just beyond Meena to the other side of her. Still firing arrow, after arrow, on a walk. By now, his myriad number of hasty shots were making his efforts apparent, as multiple arrows penetrated like hedgehog quills further and further inside the thing's defense. By the tenth arrow he had advanced enough to come into a forward guard position in front of meena, Just to where the knife still was suspended in the air. Shifting the bow's haft behind his shoulder, he opeened a palm underneath the hilt of the blade. A quick kukri slash in the air scintillated off a brief resistance before the dagger fell into his waiting grasp and his feet knew it was time to move. Jumping back towards Meena, the rogue made a rather inelegant roll to his feet as more tendrils attacked the floor of where he had just been. Their ghostly force causing the stone to split and rupture into shards and shrapnel which bit his face and rattled off his metal carapace. Coming to his feet and coughing, the man would resheathe his kukri and take up a defense at the girl's right shoulder. All to begin to wave the dagger around at any ghostly tendril of change to come towards the child's person. His thoughts narrowed into each second as the back of his mind screamed that all they needed was to buy a bit of time. A bit of time or a distraction enough to let Meena deal with the ghostly legion once and for all...