When Fire Strikes (Closed)

[Phoenix]

Timestamp: Spring 1, 512 AV The Eye of the Storm is always deceptively calm. Mount Skyinarta will show little change, give little warning before all hell breaks loose. Everything that preceded this storm has been kept secret from the Mountain's inhabitants; they will be taken just as unawares as everyone else. Perhaps more so. At first, only those extremely observent individuals will notice the most subtle of changes; The birds that flock around the city grow quiet. The chorus of chirping and song has long become background noise to the Gingers, the absence of which will register in the subconscious; the lack of those common sounds are a hard kind of silence to place, noted only once they are gone. The silence will permeate past just the birds and fall over the mountain, a heavy blanket that muffles everything. Even the wind that normally careens over the face of the mountain, whipping over cliffs and constantly tugging at the hair and clothes of those outside seems subdued. Perhaps a babe will cry, or an old man will complain about his long since injured knee, but still only a few will sense the impending change in the tides of the world. Unable to take it any longer the birds will flee as one, erupting in a cacophony of cries as the sky darkens for the span of a few breaths as their little bodies pelt through the air. Those observant Intarans will feel the wrongness in the air, the heavy sense of dread that snuck in after the silence, a shadow gone unnoticed until it clutched at the throat of the city. Probably the most telling sign, however, is the absolute stillness of the Wind Eagles. For bells preceding the impending tidal wave of events, the Eagles became increasingly agitate. Shunning their riders and routines, they gathered in their Aeries where their nests opened to the sky, perched on the ledge like feathered Gargoyles, poised and alert. These massive protectors of the city spoke not a word to their Endal nor each other, rigid as statues where they stand or lay. Of a group mind, or simply intuition, the Wind Eagles stir when their tiny brethren flee, as if the mass exodus was the sign they were all waiting for. As one, they take charge of the city, shattering all pretenses that the red-headed humans were the ones in control in a mere matter of seconds. Those closest to the masses begin to herd people inside, wings spread wide to prevent anything from passing by, feathery walls providing a gentle buffer as, side by side, the Eagles moved to enclose the Inartans and effectively blocking escape. Those who resisted met the cruel, curved end of those deadly beaks and were left behind; it only took a few examples before the rest of the Inartan's got the picture and fled. Meanwhile, the yet un-bonded fledglings and the older, 'widowed' Eagles took flight. Riderless, they spiraled away from the city, upward into the harmlessly blue sky. More and more of the Eagles joined them as the Inartans locked themselves away, hiding in the stone tombs that was Wind Reach. A dozen Wind Eagles, their Endal astride, parted from the cyclone of massive bodies, flying off in all directions in haste in hopes of preventing the rest of Mizahar from being caught unawares. Still, the eery silence permeated everything; the Eagles made no noise as they climbed into the sky. The sound of their beating wings echoed loudly along the abandoned corridors below. It soon became obvious that the Protectors of the city were focusing their attentions on a particular point of the mountain. Open to the air, the vent of the volcano that these creatures and their humans called home was the source of all attention. From a distance, it would seem that the Wind Eagles were circling, watching, and waiting for something to happen. Their tight formations and silent, deadly focus screamed danger. Whatever was coming out of that volcano, the Wind Eagles were going to do whatever they could to stop it. The silence seemed like it couldn't get any heavier when a nearby mountain peak exploded. Unphased, the Wind Eagles broke formation to dodge flying boulders bigger than even the largest of the birds. Shards of rocks, pebbles, debris bigger than a human man rained down on the city in a deadly hail. Covered walkways caved as boulders slammed down onto the rocks below. Another peak exploded, not far from the first. A younger Eagle, new on his wings and not as agile as his companions, went down with a chunk of mountain three times his size. As if they couldn't hold their silence anymore, the Wind Eagles erupted into screams that were swallowed by a chain of exploding mountaintops around them. As one, the Wind Eagles converged on the mouth of the Volcano. It seemed for a moment as if they were going to fling themselves into the sluggishly bubbling lava when they stopped in mid-air, seemingly having run into a wall. There was another moment of that terrible silence before an explosion of feathers seemed to once more block out the sun. Blown backwards in the air in all directions from the vent, the Eagles hurdled through the sky as their tried to regain their wings. Some were unfortunate enough to be blasted into another exploding peak, while others were too old to survive the force of the blast. The majority, however, righted themselves and continued their circle above the city, cawing now in distress. Whatever they were supposed to stop had been loosed. Whatever they were supposed to protect, they had failed. As one, the trapped Inartans below stiffened, their faces turning upwards as if they could see the sky through the tons of rock above their heads. As one, they lifted their arms to the sky and convulsed with shared pleasure as He broke free of his prison. As one, they shouted His name, their bodies exploding with pure ecstasy. "IVAK!" As one, they collapsed. Unconscious, as mere mortals were unable to handle the unbridled rapture of a God. And then... there was silence. Please Read! : This thread is for all of Wind Reach. In it, I will be detailing exactly what happens after the storm. Who is killed, what buildings are destroyed, what exactly happened to those Wind eagles that got hit by the wild djed. Most of what is going to happen was outlined in the original announcement by Gossamer, but this is YOUR chance to participate. In this thread, we will be surviving the storm as a city, digging out the debris and coming together in a time of universal need. Even if no one joins, I will continue to detail the progress of Wind Reach's survival in the aftermath. If you wish your PC to have been suck out in the storm, send me a PM and we will conviene in a sperate thread, where you will find out what happens to your PC. Enjoy!

[Deyja Zhitani]

Deyja kicked and swung at the monsterous serpent coiling around her body. She struggled with all her might to free herself, but to no avail. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She just couldn't break free. Panic filled the mixed blood who at once opened her mouth to scream, but found only silence. In truth her voice had really peirced through the air into the waking world startling any nearby Inartans. Trapped in her nightmare Deyja continued to wrestle against her phantom. "Shut it will you," snapped an Inartan who'd been passing by. With the man's words the fuzz surrounding her mind finally dissolved, and Deyja's eyes slowly fluttered open. A molten gaze still dull with slumber met with the dingy cloth of her blanket. Obviously she had tossed and turned during the night unintentionally wrapping herself up in the thing. Her monster serpent had been nothing more than a bed cloth. She swiped her hand across her face hoping the action would hide her growing blush. "How silly of me," she chuckled teasing herself. Throwing the blanket aside Deyja pulled herself up and headed out. She needed to get up, get moving, and get her mind off that awful nightmare. Absently her footsteps carried her down the halls. She hadn't planned on going anywhere exactly but eventually she entered the Courtyard of the Sky. The courtyard was almost strangely empty. Yes there were Inartans about conversing along with other things, but something was missing. A slight chill rolled down Deyja's spine leaving the mixed blood with uncontrollable tremors. The chills? She wasn't sick. And the weather was oddly warm? Not that the mixed blood minded it. She didn't do well in the cold thanks to her father's blood so Deyja was all too happy winter was ending, but Wind Reach...hot. Wasn't spring beginning? Absently Deyja rose her hands up their trembling digits running through untamed fiery locs. Something was off...very off, and it made the mixed blood a ball of nerves. Little did she know the nerves settling in the pit of her stomach would be the least of her worries this day. Deyja wasn't heeding the silence of the birds in sky or the still of the wind. No these warnings were loss on the mixed blood whose thoughts were preoccupied with her own tumultous emotions. She had that fight or flight feeling for some reason, and she couldn't quite comprehend why. "Hehe heh, this...this is crazy. You have to...get a hold of yourself Deyja." She wrapped her arms around her torso hugging herself. 'What in the world am I feeling?' she wondered. Than it hit her, she knew this feeling. It was danger, it was death, and it was something she hadn't felt since the day she lost her parents. With that thought her nerves began to settle and Deyja's heart fell on fight pushing flight on down into the depths of her soul. No sooner had she came to that conclusion did the avians that graced Wind Reach with their presence took flight; darkening the skies a few heartbeats all the while sending sharp screeches of panic and distress as they went. Deyja's molten gold gaze darted wildly about the courtyard a tinge of panic entering her. Whatever had caused the birds to flee was about to happen or was already happening. Before Deyja had any real chance to react the courtyard erupted into chaos. The Wind Eagles who were like statues only mere moments ago had descend on the Inartans ushering them inside, but Deyja had no intention on doing that. She wouldn't hide, not again, not if she could do some good. Even after she witnessed a man meet with the end of a Wind Eagle's beak for resisting didn't deter her. Besides if what she had just seen was any proof there would be a number of Inartans left out in the cold, so to speak since it wasn't really cold. Heck it was getting hotter if that was possible. All Deyja knew was she had to be there to give any in need a helping hand; the mixed blood would accept and deal with the consquences of her actions as they came. 'Now how can I keep from getting caught up in the crowd, or worst dinged in the head by a Wind Eagle's beak. Dodge. Weave. Roll.' At once Deyja put her plan in to action. She rolled away from the first crowd being ushered her way, than weaved just barely getting out of the way of another, and lastly ducked toward a less crowded corner of the courtyard. Smoothing her back against the wall Deyja lifted her molten gaze skyward, golden pools watching as the Wind Eagles pulled into formation and circled Mt. Skyinarta. When the masses of Inartans had locked themselves inside silence reigned supreme. The eerie quiet hung in the air for what seemed like an enternity to the mixed blood when her eardrums were hammered with the uproar of a sudden explosion of a nearby peak. The Courtyard was crashing down around her, but not just her, those who were left behind in the scramble as well. She had to help them all somehow so Deyja rushed out thinking little of the actual danger. She was determined and it drove her to such reckless behavior. Within a few footfalls the mixed blood came across a small lump with trademark scarlet hair. 'It couldn't be,' she thought absently, but it was. Right before her was a Yasi curled into the fetal position trembling in fear. Deyja knelt beside the Yasi her lips parting yet she didn't get the chance to speak to the youth. A large crash announced the crumbling of a nearby pillar forcing Deyja to scoop the Yasi into her arms. Pushing off against the ground hard to compensate for the added weight Deyja launched herself and the youth forward. Unfortunately each motion made was a second too late; the pillar though only brushing Deyja's back broke fabric and flesh making the mixed blood stumble forward. She bit her lip hard against the pain to keep from howling. As Deyja regained her footing something else heavy pelted her in the shoulder knocking back to her knees. The mixed blood wanted to scream, to curse, to cry, but instead she pulled herself to her feet once more. Quickly she carried the youth over to an area she hoped would be safe setting the Yasi down. "Ok...just...wait here. I'll...be right...back," she explained through heavy panting. She rushed back out to another but realized belated that the man was long gone. Than with little warning Deyja was stopped in her tracks, raw energy forcing the mixed blood to lift her gaze and her arms to the sky. Her body convulsed and her senses were flooded with an euphoria like no other before a name finally found itself to her lips escaping her mouth just like all the others. "Ivak!" Unwillingly Deyja fell unconscious admist the rumble.

[Miana]

Though there was no light in her small 'room', her body had instinctively known the easy rise of the morning. But she did not stir from her stiff position on her broken bed; instead, she stared straight into a roof that she barely made out and kept her breathing as even as she could. She inhaled peacefully, savouring her first breaths of the new year. Then she tossed to her side. Then back again. She growled. Moments of sweet privacy was rare for her, yet she couldn't even greet the new year with a pleasant attitude. Miana tossed to her side again, glaring at the chipped, aged walls of her room.

Finally, after a great deal of uncomfortable shifting, Miana decided in giving up her claim to peace and sat up, thoroughly put out. Now slightly more awake, she noticed that something was different in her room, a slight change. Miana narrowed her eyes, immediately suspicious of a botched robbery.

She sprang to her feet at the thought, more than a little agitated. 'How could that be?' She demanded viciously in her mind, 'I would've noticed!' And ridiculously, she would've- living with her mother had taught her well of sleeping lightly. Most nights were spent in sliding back into consciousness and slipping away, begrudgingly. It was a vicious cycle.

In her half-asleep induced rage, Miana began stalking her room, compulsively checking the room for any evidence of change. And like what the other half of her brain had told her, she found none, for any valuables that would've been worth stealing were at her person. The coat her mother gave her substituted for a pillow and with her hair sprawled all over it, no one would've noticed.

And her bag? She had her arms around it the whole time.

Miana slapped her forehead. Of course it was with her, just like it had been every night.

But the early morning was starting to grow older, and frankly, she needed a good bath before she faced any of the shenanigans of the upper castes. Pushing out her increasing paranoia, she quickly hid her possessions in her usual hiding place; on the very top shelf of a shelf that desperately needed repair, veiled under a coarse and age ridden cloth that she had found somewhere else. It was a poor hiding spot, but what else could she do when her room was as bare as the winter ridden trees? Miana could only huff and sulked gloomily out of the room, making her way into the baths.

This was her routine. Wake, ponder, bathe. Her coveted morning ritual. And it was one she would sorely miss later on.

It started probably after she had rushed into the halls of the Darvina Commonrooms, her feet echoing around the strangely still hallway. Each footfall was loud and harrowing against the silence, as if it was intrusion. Miana had never set foot on a temple- but the eerie silence that fell into her ears like a cold blanket was enough for her to slacken her pace, head cast down demurely. Everything seemed to fall into the same spell- as if the very mountain itself was waiting for something, holding its breath in anticipation. Not even the wind had the gall to thump against it's ragged walls.

And then in the same moment her brain registered the strangeness of the situation, an eruption of loud cries washed across the mountain, the desperate sound reaching the Commonrooms with general unease. Then nothing. A pause. This was simply a breather, a prelude to a greater story.

Along with the mountain, the young Dek stood frozen in the hallway of the Commonroom, stiff. Tiny hairs along heer body stood as if in act of ceremony. She couldn't hear anything, no matter how much she strained desperately for a hint of life in the sprawling communal area. Nothing. Even the sound of her own heartbeat and breathing was difficult to hear- she might've thought she wasn't until the caught the sight of her small whispy breaths. An involuntary shudder racked through her body. It was so-

-hot! The sudden arch of the temperature had turned the pale Inarta pasty pink, even in places she didn't even know it was possible. She was used to a little heat, sure- she lived in a volcano, dammit- but this was something else. It felt like she was being roasted. Her mind spun, her vision starting to erupt with tiny little colors; unsteady, she leaned her body into closest wall and found a film of liquid stuck on to her. As though the walls were... sweating.

But she didn't have enough time to ponder at it's magnificent strangeness- the volcanic city began to quiver. It had started out innocently enough, barely strong enough for her to notice, and then suddenly, she was hurling herself to the walls, forcing herself to almost assimilate with it, out of pure fear.

Then everything started to fall apart. The walls that had boxed her in started to groan in definace to their falls, the tasteful decorations that littered along the commonrooms went down with it, some pelted with rocks, some crushed down by bigger rocks and some just simply fell, waiting for an even bigger boulder to lie on them.

And Miana?

A decorative proud Talon sword that hung above her began to loose from its hinge as the tremors continued, and it wasn't long that it went plummeting straight down to Miana.

She moved before it caught her head, but it did not stop it from biting into her flesh. It caught a long portion of her upper arms, blood trailing.

And while it hurt- oh gods, did it ever hurt- she paid no attention to it, spending all her energy on her legs. The walls and fallen boulders were closing at her at breakneck speed. They rumbled threateningly down at her, sending more rocks to fall on her, as if hoping to squash the woman into oblivion. In front of her, it wasn't better at all. In fact, it was probably much worse. Large boulders had long since settled in where the exit of the hallway had been, and more debris was starting to accumulate in the hallway.

For a crushing second, Miana really did think her life would be over, even imagined the image of her tattered body under a boulder, could see the vibrancy of the blood seeping through said boulder. A strangled cry pushed past her lips. 'Oh gods,' she despaired, 'I'm going to die. I'm gonna fucking die.' The sheer force of the realisation made her weak at the knees and instantly, she reached out to steady herself... and found a knob.

Without even thinking it through, she instantly thrust it open and flung herself into the room, deliriously gleeful.

From behind the safety of the door, where she could pretend that the tremors wouldn't reach her, she heard the world collapse. After a chime, she let out a breath that she didn't even know she held in.

'I'm alive...' she thought to herself, she waited for relief to wash over her but felt nothing but the same uneasy fear. Miana swallowed and sank down to her knees, her palm cradling her face. A tear marred her powdered cheeks and she let it freely run. She was alive. Images of crushed bodies flashed through her mind, this time not her own. She was alive. A violent sob escaped her. She was alive.

Miana screamed and banged her fist against the door.

[Drusilla]

Drusilla had been awake for some time, working away with a needle and thread mending her dress. She hummed to herself oddly enough her singing friends seemed absent today.How odd.... The birds are always out by now.. The air seemed filled with static. It was a sickening feeling. Within seconds all hell broke loose. The volcano rumbled mass hysteria was heard. As her room began to fall apart Drusilla quickly made her way out. Clad in her Symenstra clothing and shoeless Drusilla ran. As bigger segments began to fall Dru began to give up on walkingPetch this, using her natural Symenesta climbing skills, she began scaling the walls and the ceiling at times. Dodging and jumping, Drusilla began to make her way through the mountain tunnels. From the baths not far from her collapsing room, came blistering bursts of steam. It saturatied the walls and all else. Her grip was begining to slip in all this fevered wettness.Drusilla's heartbeat pounded through her chest If I fall... Thoughts of her splintered frame came to mind, her fragile Symenestra bones... they wouldn't break, they would shatter. As more steam was spewed,Drusilla stomach turned more and more. Tears ran down her face, maybe if she reached out to the Symenestra's god... Or was HE giving her this fate! She HAD left her blood relitives in Kalinor... "But what they were doing was wrong!!" Drusilla yelled to no one in Symenos, maybe it was the heat getting to her. She yelled out again, "You say to respect life, how is stealing women just for them to die just?! Or how my stepmother treated me?! The only person to show me compassion and love was that Inarta surrogate! THESE people are MY people. MY family!" Blurry eyed she reached up to climb farther from the heat. But, a slight slip of her hand sent her tumbling down from the height she had climbed. Hitting the floor Dru screamed bloody murder, her body.... Something was wrong... and painful

[Phoenix]

Something instinctual happens in life or death situations. Even if ones mind begins to shut down or limbs refuse to move, everyone has that place where they can retreat to that helps them push through, to keep going. Deyja lay collapsed in the courtyard, rocks bigger than she raining down around her, only the luck of some God keeping them from crushing her fragile, mortal frame. Though a painless darkness had consumed her, the halfbreed began to stir, the unconscious state she had fallen into disrupted by the same constricting, terrifying feeling she had experienced not even a bell earlier. Her body was telling her to wake up, doing anything it could in order to get itself up and moving to safety. When she did rouse, the first thing that Deyja would see was that the hallways surrounding the Courtyard were all collapsed. All of the exits were blocked.. or so it seemed. If Deyja had the intuition to shift some of the rubble herself, she would find a gap just big enough to crawl through that lead through a collapsed corridor out of the courtyard. It was very dangerous, but it was a risk she was going to have to take. Meanwhile, Miana was bleeding profusely. Her angry, desperate flailing movements were causing her blood to only pump faster, therefore leaving her body more rapidly than if she was to just lie still. It wouldn't be long before the girl was aware that her strength was quickly leaving her and she had but only moments until she lost consciousness. Alone in the room that collapsed around her and unaware of what was going on outside of the city, Miana would have to do her best to be found, as she didn't have the strength to dig herself out of the room. OOCI know I didn't give you guys much to work off of, but I did that intentionally. I want your characters to WORK! My intention is for the two girls to find each other. The crawlspace that Deyja finds is actually what used to be the hallway that lead to the commonrooms, where Miana is trapped. Although the explosion has happened and Ivak is free, the wild Djed hasn't yet reached the City or the two woman. Hopefully you both can find and help each other before that happens! Feel free to take as many posts as you need, Miana and Deyja, and decide when you're done and ready for me to step back in Drusilla- I need a little bit more from you, hun. This is a big event. I need to know where she is, what shes thinking, why she's outside when everyone should be inside. I want to be able to give you something awesome for joining this thread, but you have to work for it and this should be a little challenging. I expect more than just a few sentences.

[Krysanthe]

Words like thorny feathers tickled and pricked at the mind of a lost and broken young woman. Her eyes were locked in the pages of a journal, a journal written in a tongue of which has been written in a tongue of which she understood very little, yet a journal which has managed to both keep her clinging to any desire she has to live, along with locking her in a firm state of mind that there would be no greater mercy than death. In her hands she holds the lost words of the love that she had lost. In her hands, she holds what could only be answers. She had been trying to translate this journal for nearly a year. She was able to pick out an occasional word from the small repertoire of Syemenos she knew, bu beyond that, the book’s sacred meaning was lost on her. All that she wanted was an answer. She wanted to be able to stop asking why. She wanted a real, honest answer, so she wouldn’t have to guess anymore. Why? Why did the best few months of her life lead to her ultimate downfall? Why did he have to take that fateful plunge? Why did she feel s cursed as to think she would never see him again? Why did she have this nagging feeling that he was still alive somewhere? Why did she have to keep having these nightmares? Why couldn’t she just let him go? Safely tucked away in a recess of her room Krys fumbled blindly through the pages. The only sound in the room was the soft scratch of paper being lifted and dropped as she stared blankly at the pages. There had to be an answer. There had to be a way. She certainly had the will. Suddenly, it came to her. Of course! Why hadn’t she thought of it before? She knew someone who could speak Symenos! Drusilla! It seemed so simple. The two of them had started talking again. Maybe they could meet up. She could help translate. The weaver would at least be able to make some more sense of it. The author’s vocabulary was almost disturbingly eloquent. She doubted that she would be able to understand it even if it was written in Nari. Krysanthe did not expect a miracle. She did not expect to understand every word. But at least it would be something. Now that there was a possibility of seeing what it was that was going through his mind, she was filled to the brim with anticipation. She slammed the fragile pages of the journal closed. Thinking she heard a rip, she frantically searched the pages again, but she found there were none that had not been there before. Her thin fingers stroked the torn leather binding apologetically. Holding the book firmly with both hands, as a reassurance that she wouldn’t drop it, Krys left her room. It was not the first time that the journal escaped the contstant sufficatoin of her bedroom, but the occasion was rare. She had, once upon a time, ventured to a different quiet place to focus, anywhere where the Inarta were scarce and the weather was good. It had been a while, though. Silently determined, Krysanthe made her way towards the Courtyard. Her thoughts were all directed towards finding the pale faced beauty, but something else soon caught her focus. No, it was a lack of something. It was so quiet. Sure, there was a bit of stirring from the Inarta going about their usual business, but something was missing, there in the background. Some undertone that she had forgotten to listen to. She felt like something hit her in the stomach. It was so quiet. But it had been this way for a while. The birds, why hadn’t she paid attention to the birds? They got so anxious, and then they were silent. Where were their comforting chirps and twitters? Where were the toots and tweets and trills and whistles? It was so quiet. Krys looked back behind her, then back in front. They were nowhere. No birds. Anywhere. Holding the book in only one hand now, Krys made a mad dash forward. She wasn’t sure why she felt so compelled to run, but there was a deep seated feeling telling her to keep moving forward. She ran so fast she wasn’t even sure where she was running. The Courtyard, The Twin Lakes, The Glass Reverie, or even into the Unforgiving, she didn’t know. She just ran. She felt like there was something behind her, chasing her, something that she had to get away from, yet still the thought lingered. He was there. The thought frightened her. Who? Who was there? He is awake. Who? Why is she thinking these things? She had to get out. She had to run. She had to be safe. He is free. --- As one, the trapped Inartans below stiffened, their faces turning upwards as if they could see the sky through the tons of rock above their heads. As one, they lifted their arms to the sky and convulsed with shared pleasure as He broke free of his prison. As one, they shouted His name, their bodies exploding with pure ecstasy. "IVAK!" As one, they collapsed. Unconscious, as mere mortals were unable to handle the unbridled rapture of a God. And then... there was silence. --- Krysanthe stirred. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t remember what happened. She didn’t know anything. For a moment, she couldn’t remember her own name. For a moment, all that she was even dully aware of was that there was something in her hand at her side. Something she never let go of. That something brought her great comfort. It made her feel like she needed to live. It made her want to wake up and look around. A little leather bound trinket that brought her strength. She slowly slid the journal closer to her, and for a moment, that was all the movement she could manage. With the knowing that she and the journal had survived, Krysanthe closed her eyes. She lay, and she breathed, and she felt the silence consume her until she had the ability to do something more.

[Miana]

Reminiscent of Miana's tears streaked down her cheeks and chin, ruining the mask of powder rubble that coated thinly over her spindly body. A dry sob escaped her throat, and then another one, and then another one. She could feel her tears on the back of her eyes, waiting to be shed yet again. But no matter how much she willed her body to cave in, it couldn't-wouldn't- let itself go through another round of violent wailing.

Her fists weakly rested against the battered door, sturdier than the day it started it's duty. She felt no pain- nothing. Not the bleeding on her arm, not even the beginnings of bruises lining up against her knuckles. Nothing nothing nothing. She thought about the situation she's in and laughed to herself, harshly, bitterly. Nothingness suited her.

But that was all soon forgotten. She didn't know where it came from, didn't know when it started- but the jolt travelled to her spine made her forget everything, the ecstasy drugging her system. Many chimes passed before she awoke back into a semblance of consciousness, her head groggy and weary. Her throat was burning- as if a furnace was trapped inside her lungs, and only produced more heat when she breathed. She tried to speak- but found that even the simple syllables were beyond her croaked voice. Uncomfortable, she rubbed her throat with a hand, and winced as pain shot through her wounded arm. She was still bleeding, it seemed.

Conscious now of her wounds, she looked at her arm critically, mildly surprised by the state it's in. The dirt that surrounded her had mercilessly stuffed it with it's kind. She looked away, disgusted, knowing for sure that an infection was soon to come. For a moment, she thought about ripping her lontev yet again, but quickly turned the idea down. It wouldn't have helped- for it too, was as dirty as a rag. Casually, she appraised her dark surroundings with a cool eyes. No way out. 'So,' she thought, in a way that one might converse with a stranger in the warrens, 'this is how Miana dies. Fitting.'

Figuring that this would take a while, she once again laid down on the floor, revelling on the warmth her home emitted.

A strange eerie calm filled her as her vision began to blur. 'Wouldn't it be wonderful to close my eyes for a while?' She asked herself, a small smile in her lips. Briefly, she wondered if this was what her mother felt readying herself for her eventual death. She remembered that she had tried to duplicate what she had imaged her mother doing that day, trying to understand what she had felt and thought as she stood ponderously at the very mouth of Shivia's cliff, her hands still stained with her husband's blood, waiting for the eventual plumage of water to crush her lungs. She remembered her own feelings that day- the senseless feelings of desperation, relief and grief that produced a sense clarification that duped her into thinking that she understood. But maybe that epiphany was enough for her then, enough to send her body back to safety and well away from the currents.

'Stop it brain,' she commanded herself, 'I'm too tired to think about such things.' And she was- she had long ago stopped fighting against her overwhelming fatigue and waited patiently for a slumber to overcome her.

noteguys, please save her from being trapped. I don't really want her to die so soon. D:

[Arandolya]

Arandolya The only limit is the Stars . . . It started as a normal day, one that dawned the same, and the sun trailed it's fiery passion through the sky. She rose the same, dressed the same, and went to go about her day. Arandolya, as a hunter, immediately noticed the absence of birdcall, her own songbird silent and gloomy. Ignoring the tugging feeling in her gut, Arandolya left to try to make a day's worth of something, calling Trith to her hand. As the sky lightened though, the day darkened, the absence of noise a warning. The Inarta tried to ignore it though, at least this particular one did, and with Trith settled on her shoulder, feathers ruffling and deadly silent, she continued out. The sharp wind, the one that often made her honey gaze fill the tears, and made her shiver with its ruthless cold, seemed quieter, more gentle, and as it tugged at her hair, she felt like it was ushering back to the safety of her mountain. "Silly, the birds probably sense a turn of the weather," she told herself in an uncertain tone, not sure if she was trying to tell herself that or simply stating thoughts aloud. It started as a ruffle of Trith's feathers, when the world exploded around her. Wings capturing any breeze they could, and swooping into the air, little bodies shot past Arandolya with no fear for her but the hopes to gain to the skies. She was used to small flocks rising as a predator spied them, but this was . . . unusual. Startled, Arandolya jumped, barely capturing Trith as she tried to join her flying kin. The Avora waited it out, wondering, astonished, feeling the doom settle in her stomach. Now Trith sung, out to those winged creatures, bringing Arandolya away from her thoughts. Realizing she was holding Trith unwillingly, Arandolya let her go. And with barely a backwards glance the loyal bird took wing and flew into the blue skies with the dark mass that almost blotted out the sun. "This isn't right," Arandolya murmured, watching the small songbird flutter away from her, feeling slightly betrayed by the creature, though she did not own it; birds were only as loyal as they wanted to be. She watched with wide eyes, spinning in place as she took in the entire view. The cries shattered into her ears, not the normal raking caws, these were cries in fear and one that should have warned her if nothing else did. She was supposed to be one with the wild, though she never knew why she dismissed this idea and told herself it was fine. It started with a silent mountain, then a flutter of birds, now Wind Eagles were herding around her, snapping with their beaks, nudging her urgently. She saw them take control, and the determination that flashed in their intelligent eyes. The wounded ones left behind made her turn, though a sharp blow to her stomach from the blunt part of beak reminded her of whom she was loyal to, and - winded - she continued with the regal Eagles. Wide soft wings pillowed her if she gave way to younger Inartans to enter before her, and ushered her ever closer. "What is going on?" Though no one seemed to hear her, or they ignored the confused call. Only one answer came, a sharp trill that made her turn, ignoring the smell of feathers and beating of wings against her sides. A small familiar figure darted into view, between the heads of the Wind Eagles and going to Arandolya with a determined flight pattern. "Trith," she greeted warmly, the small bird settling on her fingers as she hurried to keep up with the crowd and not be left outside. It started with the "riderless" Wind Eagles taking wing, and circling, watching, waiting. "Why," she said silently. Worried Trith would take wing again, and this time not return, Arandolya stroked her head and kept her close, the small claws clinging onto her hand. In shock, awe, and terror, Arandolya watched it all unfold. The explosion, the rocks, the screams of not only the Inarta, but also the Wind Eagles. What was happening? How? The rocks from the mountain cascaded like rain, and with a hand over Trith, Arandolya ran for some kind of cover. She tried to stay out of the way as others screamed and rushed, whilst keeping from being crushed from the rocks that flew themselves into the city. With the cries of pain echoing in her ears, and rocks bruising her pale flesh, she ran. A sharp rock created a line of red in her hand, a few others made their marks elsewhere. Arandolya pushed away from the Courtyard, into the The Stained Glass Gallery. The walls shook, the sound of tinkling glass was almost deafening in its pure, delicate way. Her eyes took in the carnage, the beautiful work shuddering off the walls, and off displays to shatter onto the floor that shook. Pain sparked where the glass raked, and she cowered against the wall that was against the mountain and not the outdoors. The Inarta really did not build their city planning one day it would be bombarded by rocks the size of Wind Eagles! Against her better judgement, Anrandolya fled again. Arandolya quickly found herself huddled against the wall of one of the covered walkways of the city. The boulders shrieked as they hit, and Arandolya screamed as part of it collapsed, realizing this was no way to hide. Fearing she would be crushed by the hallways, one exit blocked, the other way the only option as she ran, hoping to get under more rock that could hold against the onslaught. As another part fell, the rocks flew at her, pelting her back, making her vision blur with tears of fear. She didn't want to die! Arandolya stopped eventually, sitting close to the wall, bringing her knees close to her, and settling Trith on her stomach as the bird fluttered nervously, probably regretting returning to such conditions. She guarded the small bird as best as she could, trying to say reassuring things. "It'll be okay. It'll stop soon. We'll live." Before her mind could think too hard, it went blank with a single thought controlling it. Without her say, though her mind didn't input any anyways, her face turned upwards to the invisible sky. She straightened, and Trith resettling on her fingertips as was her normal perch when Arandolya was walking. With her kin, Arandolya's arms outstretched, Trith fluttering off in alarm. Arandolya's voice, hoarse from screaming, cried out in the pleasure of the moment, feeling everything keenly, in the sharp sense of ecstasy, "IVAK!" Then she fell, as the world continued to fall around her. And it started with the quiet rise of the sun.

[Phoenix]

Ivak was free. There was no doubt about it. Without knowing how, all of the Inartan's knew this. The God's joy had exploded into the minds of every single mortal on the mountain, twisting and manipulating their thoughts and feelings until they too rejoiced. Most would not remember this, the elation they all shared, as Ivak was heavy handed in his excitement, pushing the human's minds to the brink where it simply shut itself down in self preservation. The Five young women that were unfortunate enough to be outside, left behind, or trapped were none the less part of this rapture. They knew exactly what was going on, why, and the dire circumstances that they were now in. All around the city, the volcanoes were exploding, lava ignoring it's own viscosity as it barreled down the mountainside and into the sentinel trees below. Those peaks that weren't harboring pools of lava beneath ruptured outward and skyward in a shower of deadly rock and debris. The peak on which the city of Wind Reach rested began to shudder and shake, cracks appearing along the rocky floors, spreading in all directions as if they were the veins of the mountain. Deyja hadn't managed to reach Miana by the time the young dek lost consciousness; a violent shake had ruined the integrity of the tunnel through which the halfbreed slithered, a large chunk of the collapsed walkway slamming down mere inches from the yong woman's face. The way forward was blocked. There was no way to get through to crying, pleading girl that was now eerily silent. However, all was not lost for the dek girl; the same shake that effectively cut off her crawling savior dislodged a portion of the wall that trapped the small girl. It seemed that the fates that Miana had, in a fit of utter dejection and barely restrained self-loathing, given into did not want her dead yet. It seemed dying alone was not so fitting for the girl. But what good does a way out do a broken girl who lay unconscious, leaking her life blood onto the floor? None. There was a scurrying in the corner of the room, the desperate scrabbling of a small creature as it tried to free itself from a pile of debris that had fallen to cover it's own miniature hallway. For years, the mice and rats that inhabited Wind Reach got around by a collection of cracks and crevasses between the walls and under the rock that had come to be thanks to the natural shifting and moving of the mountain. The mouse finally dislodged itself, it's round, fluffy red body turned gray with a fine coating of dust, its whiskers twitching madly as it sat up on its hind legs, beady black eyes peering around the destroyed room that was still dark despite the weak rays of light that filtered in through the hole in the wall. It knew Miana was there, taking only seconds to locate the collapsed lump of a girl, coated in dust much like itself. With a determination and single-mindedness rarely shown by rodents, the Ginger-furred Cliff Mouse stopped short at the pool of blood, it's whiskers nearly vibrating with alarm. Tiny, high-pitched squeaks of distress erupted from the tiny creature as it leapt, landing on Miana's shoulder. The sound alone did not rouse the girl, though he practically stuck his nose into her ear, the mouse once more showed intuition beyond that of his race. Starting on her exposed shoulder and neck, the little mouse began litter Miana's flesh with sharp little nibbles. If that didn't bring her back from the blissful darkness that swallowed her, nothing would. § § § When Drusilla fell from the sheer face she was scaling, the Symenstra knew that she wasn't getting back up on her own; the pain that screamed up and down her body made it hard to focus on individual parts. Everything hurt to an unbelievable extent, but if she was able to focus and push away the pain she would find where it all radiated from: Her ankle. It was twisted at an unnatural angle, clearly broken as she had landed on it in her fall. On the same side, her left side, the fingers of her hand were mangled, broken upon impact as well. A quick check of the rest of her body would reveal that she was more or less intact minus minor cuts and bruises. There was no excess of blood, no open wounds that could quickly kill her. All in all, Drusilla lucked out. Shards of rock were still raining down from the sky, a few landing in an explosion of pebbles not far from where the Symenstra lay. If she didn't start moving soon, she could be effectively stoned to death. But the spider woman had a set of lungs on her, that was for sure. Even over the din of crashing rock and erupting volcano's, the piercing screech of the Sym echoed harshly through those hallways still standing; as empty as they were, the sound carried well, the domed shape of the covered corridors working to amplify the cry. Arandolya heard it first from where she cowered against the wall, as the Gallery wasn't far from the Baths and where Drusilla lay. The cry of another would rouse the terrified young woman and cause her to un-curl from her protection around the songbird. The echo of the cry would make it hard to pinpoint, as it seemed to come from all directions. Trith struggled once more to be free of those confining hands, going so far to peck at Arandolya's fingers if she refused to let go. Free, the little bird would flit quickly out of the gallery faster than her owner could follow, the trilling song that was Trith's alone was easy enough to follow, and if Arandolya was smart, follow she would. There was something about the birds in Wind Reach; none of them were quite normal. There was a reason that the Inartan's worshiped the avian species as they did. Trith would lead Arandolya to Drusilla, and once there the two women would have to figure out how to get each other to safety. Before long though, it was obvious that there was something wrong, something worse than the lava and the collapsing of their city. The air began to hum with energy, the force of it bearing down on each individual so strongly that it became hard to breathe. A noise that wasn't really a noise but a building of something that the brain didn't know how to translate and turned it into a pressure on the ears, deafened them all. Instincts kicked in and, much like the birds that left enmasse barely a bell before, it practically screamed at the women to flee flee flee! But Ivak was free. What could be worse? Overhead, the sky broke into a million colors. Swirls, like someone had taken a giant brush and splashed paint on the sky, began to spread over the city, colored tendrils reaching out from the mass like fingers, pulling it's self along. The power that filled the air like static electricity was coming from the storm of Wild Djed above, and it was getting closer. There was no doubt about it now, they had to get away from the reaching, undulating cloud of pure magic above them. Fear does wondrous things to the body and mind, bringing forth strength that one might not even know existed within them. Drusilla and Arandolya would have to work hard to get away, but self preservation always wins out. From the Bathes to safety meant crossing through the debris-ridden Courtyard and out into the complete open with no overhangs, hallways or structures to protect them. And, just when it couldn't get any worse and when they were on the brink of reaching safety, the crumpled, barely moving form of another Inartan would be spotted near the center of the Courtyard. Krysanthe hadn't been lucky enough to reach Drusilla in time and was left alone and semi-conscious to try and fend for herself. Would they help her? Or help themselves? OOC : Awesome posts, girls! Krysanthe- I know I didn't do much for you in this one, but I promise I'll make up for it in the next Miana- Feel free to see the other girls as they make their way to safety and join them if you so desire Deyja- If you come back, feel free to post and also catch up to the group. Drusilla- Thanks for expanding on your post! Awesome job! Arandolya- Let me know what kind of songbird Trith actually is

[Vaas]

"Kree-eee-ar." screams the circling hawk.

Vaas trips over another piece of debris and falls to his knees. Feeling the sharp sting of pain, he cries out clutching his legs with his hands; he slumps to the ground. Taking his hands from his bryda he feels on his right leg his pants are wet and sharp pieces of glass are sticking into his leg. When he takes his hands off, he notices they are covered in a warm sticky liquid, blood. Not thinking, he wipes his hands on his bare chest and reaches for his staff, but all he can find is rocks and glass shards. He sighs to himself and takes his backpack from his back. He opens his pack and finds his wool scarf and ties it tightly around the right leg. He hears Wind Dancer raspy scream over head, and he looks up and calls up to hawk, "Wind Dancer! Try to keep circling maybe somebody will see you!"

However, Wind Dancer to concerned for his friend decides to land next to him on finds a large piece of debris not too far from Vaas, and he flaps his wings and loudly screams, "Kree-eee-ar."

Vaas turns and faces were the sound of Wind Dancer call came from and says loudly at him, "I told you to stay in the sky... Ah you never listen to me." He trails off in defeat. He tries to stand, but the sharp pain returns, and he slumps back down to the ground. He hears Wind Dancer call to him again, and he decides to go too him. Remembering the glass in his knees, he takes out his cotton scarf from his pack and ties it around both hands. Using his wrapped hands, he decides to drag himself to the sound of Wind Dancer call, but he feels the sting of pain as he drags himself through shattered glass. He grits his teeth at the pain and continues to the calls of his friend. When Vaas makes it to the large debris he leans back against it, takes a deep breath, and says to Wind Dancer, "We'll Wind Dancer if I don't bleed to death. I take you outside the city and practice.."

Wind Dancer peers over the rock at him, tilts his head, and looks up to the sky. He spreads his wings and leaps up into the sky. Once again he starts circling around his friend. Vaas unaware of Wind Dancer's doings decides to take his mind off his own plight. He unwraps the cotton scarf from his hands and ties it around his upper leg. He takes his back pack from his back and opens it. He takes his metal flute and cleaning rag from the case, and cleans the inside of the flute. Once he is done cleaning, he brings it too his lips and starts playing loudly. Hoping someone will hear him in this field of debris. His tune is happy tune from better day long gone. The song fades as he slumps over from the loss of blood.