[Syliras Quest] Roll The Dice And Watch Them Burn (Leo/Doc)

[Murdoch]

Murdoch's breathed hissed out of him as he felt a searing pain on the back of his neck, eyes clenching shut for a moment - but then the pain turned into something else, something greater and almost incomprehensible to Doc, whose sole experience with magic consisted of the last sixty seconds of his life. Muddy eyes opened again, and he shook his head as if he'd been doused with water and needed to throw it off his skin. A quick glance around caught the men and women closing in on him - and though his fear was gone, it left plenty of room for annoyance to take its place. "I'm really starting to petching hate the gods," he growled, turning his gaze back to Leo and grabbing the back of his robe to haul him forward. "Come on, we have to get out of here. Don't let them touch you, or breath on you, or shove tea in your maw, or any other stupid shyke," he said with a roll of his eyes, a wickedly sharp dagger appearing in his free hand. "They come at us, you kill 'em, and keep doin' it until we're out of here. We gotta get to the Knights." Murdoch's Gnosis Mark

[Leo Varniak]

Flung back to reality, Leo was aware of the sudden mood shift in the room that his Azenth powers had induced. He was also aware that while the patrons seemed to think nothing of what had happened, some of the staff had the modicum of intelligence it took to figure out something was afoot. There were also some unfortunate side effects like the abominable Enliven being mistaken for the cause of the generalized Release, but Leo could do little about this tonight. He had a packet of the thing stored away and hopefully it would lead him to where they made the drug. He turned his head just in time to see Murdoch's neck get branded with a sword gnosis. Leo guessed he'd found out the explanation for the stranger's well-informed words. The mark wasn't Chaon, and that was enough for Leo. He could use the help, and besides, he had already asked for it. The man seemed anxious to get away from the gambling den, and the gradual increase in the number of veiled servants urged the Azenth to do the same. Except… seriously, he was Leo Varniak. And everyone in the building had Released - everyone but him. Now it was his turn. Ever since this had started, he'd always been on the run. From Rhysol, from the Black Hand, now from these plague-bearers. And an innocent girl had died here, a girl whose name Leo would never be able to note down on a list. Part of the blame fell upon Leo himself, for being obtuse enough to not experiment with Azenth before this day. He knew and he accepted his responsibility. The men of Vayt carried most of the blame, however. Now they must pay for it. A life for a life. Leo broke free of Murdoch's hold on his shirt. So the plan was to go and call the Knights? Naive, he thought, knowing the Knights hadn't been able to stop this evil until now and having little faith in their ability to remedy the problem. Still, it wasn't like Leo had a better plan of action. They may as well go to the Knights, but not before justice was served. "A good plan." Leo nodded, noting that Murdoch was quick to switch from 'we' to 'you' when it came to danger. He followed his annoyed companion at first, all the while taking note of where the veiled servants were. When they were somewhat closer to the exit, Leo suddenly turned around as soon as he had a clear shot at one of the veiled servants. He was frowning deeply, eyes dark with judgment. "An even better plan. I kill 'em first, then they come at us." And then, suddenly igniting the Res he'd been quietly pouring out of his palms, he shot the firebolt out with a small kick of Air to propel it faster - hopefully straight into the servant of Vayt.

[Gossamer]

"War - An act of violence whose object is to constrain the enemy, to accomplish our will. " The green eyed man watched them closely, still sending carefully concealed signals to the wait staff. The exit, which they neared, got conveniently blocked by a patron who startled a scuffle with a guard and was then subsequently being searched. Other guards were moving to assist him, though they weren't wearing the uniforms of the wait staff and the ominous veils. Murdoch and Leo had four of the shrouded servers in their near vicinity, and a whole host of people that were looking happier than they should be. The people, also moving towards the exit despite the auction about to start, were smiling - innocent of all but the debauchery and purchase of chemicals that may or may not do them lasting harm. The servant, who was indeed standing almost directly in front of Leo about ten paces away, looked started at the sudden onslaught. She took the fireball full in the upper chest, and because of the gauzy uniform she wore, the whole of her ignited in flames. Her scream filled the room as her hair started to burn and flesh began to melt off her body ignited by the flammable material draped about her. Writhing, she did not immediately fall to the floor to drop and roll. Instead, she turned a circle in panic as more of her clothing caught fire and several people standing nearer to her. Panic broke out. Fire was a serious thing in the close confines of Syliras, even in the external courtyard buildings made of stone. Furniture could burn, so too could drapes and tapestries. People could burn. And everyone knew it. Feet pounded towards the exit (of which there was only one of course), crowding and shoving and angry yells erupted as Chaos ripped through the area. The green-eyed man smiled. A sharp sting penetrated Leo's neck as a dart broke the skin and buried itself deeply into the tissue below his ear. It wasn't a large dart, but then again it didn't need to be. The room immediately began to swim before his eyes. His knees felt weak and the crowd just seemed to be able to move him as if he were a rag doll. Wait staff laid hands on him, yanking him out of the crowd, and off to the side even as his mouth grew thick as if filled with cotton and his legs gave out completely. He lay on the floor feeling like he was about to fall from it and slap the ceiling incredibly hard. Chemicals. Probably not Enliven, filled his bloodstream. He could dislodge the dart if he tried, but it had already done its job. His mind was numb, too think to think, and he was helpless to cast. Murdoch, on the other hand, saw the whole thing set up nicely. He was in the perfect position to see the green-eyed man give the signal. He realized, from experience, that the woman knew she was bait and that she was going to possibly die. The others were prepared for her sacrifice because they didn't even move a muscle to help her. Their focus was on Leo and taking him down. It was calculated, as if planned, strategic and smart. There was an overlay to their actions, as if his vision was somehow augmented, and he saw the group for who they were 'together' even though some of them were not dressed in uniforms but rather in plain clothing. The whole setup, all of it, reeked of a trap... of carefully laid bait. Even as Leo was darted and dragged to the side, Murdoch was caught on the flow of the crowd - a crush to exit and get out. And because the woman was burning, the whole of the building was filling with smoke. There was a burning in his lungs from the smoke and it felt unhealthy to say the least. It was clouding his mind, making his thinking rather 'thick'. If he didn't act fast, the current the crowd was producing consisting of moving bodies would have him swept up and out of the building with no chance of getting back in and getting to Leo - if thats what he wanted. He'd have to act quick, for it was obvious Leo Varniak was down.

[Murdoch]

Murdoch watched the scene unfold, that strange new awareness showing him exactly what lay in wait for them. "Petching idiot," he muttered, turning to grab him - just as he set the girl on fire and all hell broke loose.

Fire. He'd lived in Syliras long enough to know the dangers of it. Once he'd seen what happened when a fire spread through the streets. If the nutjobs here didn't kill Leo, the Knights would cut his stupid head off for this.

Chaos was easier to handle if you knew what to look for. Individuals weren't very predictable, but a mob - that was a creature with habits and patterns that could be read. Those who weren't a part of the little "kidnap Leo" plot were crushing towards the door, a couple dozen at least. There were about four surrounding the sorcerer now, and they looked about ready to cart him off somewhere that the little voice in his head likely wouldn't be too happy about.

"Petching idiot," he hissed, reaching out to snatch a dagger from the belt of one of the men bumbling towards the exit in a panic. His other hand drew his assassin's dagger, and though he doubted the stranger's blade was as sharp as his, it would just have to do.

Doc dropped into a crouch to avoid the worst of the smoke, yanking his shirt up to cover his nose and mouth, and scurried over towards his fallen quasi-comrade. Strike hard and fast, you say, he thought, mind fogging from the acrid smoke of the woman's burning body, and did just that.

He scrambled up behind the nearest two, daggers gripped in his fists with the blades laid flat against his wrists as he pressed his knuckles to the ground for balance, until he was close enough to strike. The assassin's dagger sliced through the first man's Achilles tendon as if it were butter, and his other hand shot out to try the same on the second man - but the other knife wasn't as sharp, and he didn't get as clean a cut. Both men screamed, but before they had a chance to turn on him Murdoch shoved them both forward so they tripped over Leo's limp form and into the other two in an attempt to tangle them up and keep them occupied with their now-bloody companions.

He pulled the dart out of Leo's neck and tossed it at the pile of enemies in some vain hope that maybe it'd scratch them and cause them a bit of problem as well. "Petching shyke-sucking idiot!" he hissed through the fold of his shirt, coughing as he tucked the daggers into his belt and grabbed Leo under the armpits and tried to haul the man over his shoulder. "Don't suppose you have any more magic up your sleeve to get yourself out of this nice little trap your dumb ass walked into?" he growled, stumbling towards the door.

[Leo Varniak]

Leo wasn't worried about causing a fire, or alerting the Knights. Indeed, the Knights were responsible for letting this happen in the first place. Had they been less incompetent, the city would not be crawling with the lackeys of Gods Too Dark To Be Named. Leo had burned plenty of people before, and while he hadn't been very stealthy about it this time, the situation just called for it. It wasn't like refraining from casting would have helped him dodge a dart that would have been coming anyways. And when it did, Leo had about three seconds to make peace with himself. To him, it was only obvious to assume the people of Vayt had armed the projectile with a lethal substance. Why take any chances? It irked him, though, to think he may have been better off taking Malia up on her offer of turning him into an undead. Silly poison wouldn't have done a thing to him then. It irked him even more that he couldn't even die without regrets, like he'd always said he would. He was literally filled with regrets. So many things left to do. So many threads left hanging. What was the point? He murmured what he thought would be his last word. "Mother…" The image of Lina flashed in the back of his mind before it got too thick and murky to even think. OOCSorry for the short post, there's not much I can write about!

[Gossamer]

Flesh parted easily beneath Murdoch's blades, the second acquired from a passerby who truthfully didn't miss its departure. It was, however, as sharp as it needed to be for the crowd he was mingling with valued such things intensely. The mob truthfully wasn't looking for a second attack with the first reimancer down, and either were the shrouded members of the wait staff. In fact, they were converging on their kill nicely, letting the fire boil off one of their kind and aid in the cleansing out of the building. The attack on the first two was successful, though shoving them tripping over Leo's body did not have the desired effect he had wished in that they didn't plow into the other two on the far side. Instead, the other two parted, let their companions stagger by before falling, and converged. Murdoch was able to get the dart out of Leo's neck and partially haul the body up on his shoulders to start dragging him for the entrance. It was a good idea. But the other two shrouded staff members around them had other plans. One lashed out and a tangled three ply cording of weighted bola flew out of her hands and as the crowd parted a bit, flew true, tangling around first one of Doc's legs, then the other... bringing him neatly down. Leo didn't feel a thing as Murdoch's fall cushioned his own. And then one of the shrouded women were kneeling over him, ignoring Leo. He could see up under her veil to see the exquisite beauty the cloth concealed. Her lips pursed and she whispered "Shhhhhhh" as her hand snaked out and she touched him. His world went black then, immediately black... _________________________________________________________________________________________ Leo woke surrounded by fire. It was the molten confines of a chamber that seemed to be made out of heat and power itself. The walls were a liquid stone that glowed shades of red and orange and yellow, throwing off intense heat that neither seemed to melt the black obsidian floor or scar it in any way. There were no features to the room, though he could easily judge its size as twice that as the Temple of All Gods. Leo was sprawled out on the floor and could feel the strange coolness of the black stone against his cheek as he slowly regained awareness. A man stood before him, casually, oddly barefoot and wearing a pair of loose fitting black pants that seemed to swirl around him almost like a skirt. He wore a dark shirt, almost ruby in color, that was tight enough that the corded muscles of his chest was revealed. It bunched around his neck though held no sleeves. A hood feel along his back. There was quiet strength within him, a strength that carried up into his facial features. His eyes were smugged with blackness around them and had crimson smudges that ran down along his cheeks. It gave him a feral look though the burning of his red orbs matched the eternal flame etched into his forehead. Spiky auburn hair surrounded his face. It was a face that held an extremely thoughtful look to it. "You look like her, you know, like my Kova. She looked like your Lina. All of you hold her blood. And all of you are incredibly strong. But your stubbornness is your weakness, Leo. I was stubborn too, prone to rash outbursts once. It was mine as well, so I can hardly fault you for it. I've learned a little since those times and now though. But patience is not a virtue that comes easily to those of our kind, is it?" He padded forward and Leo could see a strange oneness between the man and his surroundings. He seemed to own the burning temple like no one or nothing Leo had ever seen. And when he reached Leo, he knelt down and offered the man his hand. "You have the blood of a God in your veins. Stand up and act like it."

[Murdoch]

Doc was considering himself rather lucky for getting away as quickly as he had. And the next thing he knew, he was going down.

He hit hard, Leo's limp form rolling out of his arms as his shoulder slammed into the floor. He grunted harshly and rolled over, pulling the dagger from his belt to cut away at the bola - and then he caught a glimpse of soft skin and heard a calming murmur. His eyes widened, and he raised the dagger to stab at the woman as he flinched away from her touch...

"Son of a--"

...and then everything went black.

[Leo Varniak]

Leo stirred, gasping for breath. His mind could not process what had just happened, still undecided on whether he was still alive or he had trenspassed into the realm of ghosts. He found himself surrounded by walls of fiery stone, and in the company of a figure Leo had never met before, not directly at least, but whose name rang clear without the need for introductions. Ivak. The one whose blood ran in his veins. Leo had always wanted to know why a part of him always felt so angry even for no reason at all. It was easy to blame that on Ivak's blood, though Leo's real problem was that he didn't have enough of it. If he did, he wouldn't always be the underdog in any confrontation with the enemy. Even now, his weakness made him sick. He had inherited the strong will of the Azenth, but his body kept failing him. It always went down just when Leo needed it the most, when there was justice to be served. What use was life if you couldn't live your way? He squinted, still dizzy and recovering from the stun. The events leading up to now were getting pieced back together on the background. It slowly occurred to him that another man had been helping him, a man Leo had foolishly placed in grave danger. It had probably happened many times before. How much unjust suffering had been born of his thirst for retribution? And even so, could he even live any other way but this? He just didn't know anymore. All he knew was that a girl had gotten killed, and he just had to even the score by taking out one of the enemy. Somehow, somewhere down the road he'd started caring for the innocents that lost their lives. It had started with Kasav'i, he thought. When he was younger, innocent casualties were just a fact for the record, something to be avoided if possible but in the end just names and faces. He looked up at Ivak and knew he could understand how Leo felt. He'd probably gone through the same feelings, too. Ivak had fallen into the abyss but seemed to have climbed back up from its depths. Leo had also touched the bottom. Perhaps it was also time for him to get back where he belonged. The Azenth didn't know how it was possible for him to meet the imprisoned fire god, but Ivak was right on all counts. There was more at stake than just Leo's pride. His stubbornness could very well spell the world's doom in the bigger picture. Maybe it was already too late. Maybe there was still hope. He caught Ivak's hand and pushed himself up with the rest of his body, the fight returning to him. "Damn right, boss."

[Gossamer]

Doc woke to the world and found himself in irons that kept his wrists bound together. Flung on his side on the cold steps of a dais, his cheek felt pressed against ice even though it was simple stone beneath his skin. He wore nothing but a loin cloth of black silk and his body had been cleaned and examined thoroughly. His feet were bare, and all this weapons were gone. A woman squatted a few feet away from him. She was dressed in black leather that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it back. Long dark hair flowed past her face - a face that appeared to be splattered with blood. It wasn't hers. But he could smell it. In fact, the whole chamber smelled of blood and urine and feces. As he slowly regained his senses and was able to move a little, he could tell the icy stone beneath him was encrusted with the stuff. The woman, from what he could see, had no pupils. The whites of her eyes consumed her entire gaze. And she seemed rather curious more so than nervous. "Good Morning." She said formally, as if greeting a gentleman caller rather than a guest in what must serve as her dungeon. "I thought we could have a little chat. Both you and your friend, of course." She glanced sideways and if Doc could follow her gaze, he'd find Leo crumpled up as well. Leo obviously hadn't awakened yet. Not at all. Another man stepped forward, passing close by the woman, and reached out to put his hands on Doc's shoulders. A quick grunt and the man had Doc on his feet. He faded back into the background. And as Doc's vision came up, he realized both he and Leo weren't alone. The chamber was hexagonal and each wall had someone chained to it. The five people were mostly unmoving. The sixth wall held two guards that watched the woman in the center of the room with a hawk-like intensity. She stepped forward. "Better." The woman crooned, then smiled. "Now, I'd rather like it if you answered a few of my questions. First and foremost, why were you in the club and why indeed are you interfering with my operations?" She asked carefully, a hint of rage on the edge of her voice. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Ivak's smile was laced with a flash of humor for a moment as his fist caught Leo's and the God hauled the man to his feet. Once standing, Ivak took a step back and seemed to appraise Leo as if never before having seen him face to face. "You look like her but you are not that all like her. She was softer, generous, and quick to laugh. She was in love with life and delighted with a fierceness each day in living that life. You are harder, determined, driven. The world has forged you and reforged you and yet again seems to be heating the coals around to for a third attempt." His smile was slow then, almost calculating. "Any son of mine would say enough is enough and take the bellows himself. I think you're on the cusp of doing just that aren't you?" He said, turning to pace away from Leo and stare into one of the luminous burning walls as if he could see right through the substance. "Yshul stole a moment for me - for you. It cost me a kiss but I gladly paid the price for she had other information I wanted as well. But that is all it is. A moment. And we must not waste it. Since my fall I've learned patience and gratitude for the little things, so I will take what I can get even though it is next to nothing. Glav Navik is going to die if you don't get him out of Syliras. He will perish even then if you don't bring him to me. I cannot tell him the things I can tell you Leo, because he is the target. You are a shadow in their gaze, something unseen and unhindered by the spotlights of my enemies. You can hold knowledge he cannot understand. I am ready. After all this time, I know how and have the ability to excuse myself from this place. But if I need a few things to make it happen. And one of those things I need is Glav to be here." Ivak said softly, glancing around at his prison. "When the walls of my prison fall, the essence of the power the gods expanded to stop me will be released into the world. Without someone here to absorb them, someone posed on the cusp of Godhood, then the moment will be wasted and the wrong that happened when I killed Sylir will never be righted and the balance will never be achieved because there won't be an easier way ever. Glav must be in place. He must be alive. But he won't be if the creature in Syliras who's nest you walked into succeeds in her task." Ivak said once more, turning to pace back to Leo. The two men were of equal heigth thought the god of fire and emotional upheaval was muscled like a dancer for all he was lean. He moved like fire itself, controlled but deadly, his gaze stoic with his need. "Her name is Raven. She deems herself The Black Hand. She surrounds herself by Shroud that she owns, followers of Vayt. She's come hunting artifacts in Syliras - prevalterrian ones. According to Yshul's information, she says they've finally caught word of the Wind Oak, so it won't be long before they know of Glav as well. He won't live long past that knowing. Yshul sacrificed much to by you this time, with Priskil's help, so we could speak. I need to tell you two things. First, is that you must destroy Raven. She is a third marked follower of Rhysol and very very powerful. But her emotions are unstable and makes her weak to my Azenth. Druvin are all but immortal though, and the only way to kill them are to cut out their hearts and set fire to them with a blaze dedicated to Sylir. That he is dead, however, poses a problem. But if you use this...it won't be." Ivak held out a wicked looking dagger to Leo. The weapon looked like it was fashioned perfectly, a tree etched on its blade with an oak hilt stained in red. The pommel was a gem that gleamed red. "As Sylir fell, this dagger was bathed in his blood which was infused with his power. It used to be his - and at his death the clear stone in the hilt turned red. Take it. Cut her heart out with it. And then burn the heart. She will die. If she lives, Glav will die. Her Shroud will protect her if they can... and they will devastate Syliras with their presence. Tyveth has promised to aid you in this as well, though what aid he sends I do not know." Ivak then stood there, holding the dagger out to Leo, and waiting for him to speak. Leo could tell by the Gods quiet assurance that there was still a little time left. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to speed Leo on his way. Instead, Ivak simply looked deeply at him, carefully learning the lines of his face and the minute details of his person. It was as if it'd been a long long time since he'd had a visitor in his prison cell.

[Leo Varniak]

Helped to his feet, Leo stood motionless in the middle of the fiery prison, suspended between a before and an after and aware of neither. He wasn't sure what had just happened, and what would be his fate upon leaving this corner of reality. Somehow, none of that truly mattered. This moment could stand on its own meaning - it was the moment when Leo finally stepped out of the Varniak chrysalis to take his place among the Zaital. His heart was serene, perhaps for the first time. In the dead center of a blazing cage his forehead felt pleasurably cool. He wasn't raging at the thought of "Black Hand" Raven the Druvin and her nefarious plans, her lackeys or the foolish men who became her unwitting pawns. He wasn't demanding more explanations than he got, or pressing matters that were outside the scope of this encounter. Leo simply felt those things would take care of themselves. 'Faith'. A fickle word, perhaps an illusion, but a powerful one at that. There was no telling if it could truly mountains, but it could certainly make you feel that way. He accepted the dagger, extending his hand without the greed of anticipation, and ran his finger down the flat of the blade. He knew what he must do, and more importantly he knew why he must do it. His search for meaning was far from finished - indeed, it had only just begun - but at least he could see a road laid out for him to follow. He was Leo Zaital. Born for a purpose. If he died, he wouldn't just turn to ash and dust - it would be a big deal for everyone else, as well. It all mattered, and Leo could see it with unprecedented clarity, his dark eyes as big as the moment when a child first discovers that the world is a huge place. "This state of things must come to an end," he whispered, "Everyone should know the truth of the Valterrian. We owe it to those who died and those who lived to see the new world. I shouldn't have had to grow up the way I did, either. All of my life I've only learned how to destroy. Where I walk, I only leave scorched earth in my wake. But that is who I am, and I regret nothing. Fire would serve no purpose if it didn't bring destruction without equal. Now though, now I can see through the smoke." He lifted the dagger and twisted it in his grip as he spoke. "I will be the one to free you, Ivak. You've probably known this for a long time, since the very first dream you gave me when I was this tall. Just red flashes against pitch black darkness. I have not forgotten. I will help Glav too, for all that we don't get along too well every now and then. As for the Black Hand, there are a Konti seer, three Azenth and a girl whose name I will never learn." Leo took a step forward and held the blade high, staring at the point. "They will destroy Raven with me, and the man of Tyveth will lend his help as well." He tilted his head slowly and gave a small smile. "Enough with the speeches, Boss. I've got work to do."