Completed An Exercise in Escalation (open)

[Vayl]

x

Vayl frowned as he walked closer. A stranger was tossing coins... How quaint. What was he trying to do. Was he trying to make a larger riot? He doubt it'd succeed, surely humans were not that greedy, not only that but the guards were organising themselves into something formidable.

Then Vayl's eyes widened slightly, amongst the crowd of people scrambling at money, a man was being trampled underfoot. One hand shot to his Katana, and he sighed. Sadly a practice weapon would be useless here. He still had his fingerblade, but he suspected any stabbing would just aggravate the crowd and lead to more violence.

Walking towards the crowd slowly, he pulled his hood deep over his face and bared his fangs. He bit his lips and let some blood trickle down his lips. Hopefully that should make him intimidating enough. He placed one hand on his scabbard, as if to draw a real sword for fighting and walked briskly to the edges of the crowd.

"Move.. now" he muttered in his huskiest voice, shoving the closest person to him out of the way roughly. This was done with great difficulty however, due to him being extremely light and thin, even for his light and thin race. Thankfully the man did not retaliate after giving one look at his assailent.

Vayl slowly, too slowly, managed to reach the man in distress. He wiped the blood off of his lips and proffered his non-finger bladed hand to the stranger.

"Get up. Now." he asked, rather than commanded. Yet more violence is not needed here.

x

ah, death at last
my escort to blissful frailty

OOCYeah that's you I'm helping Caldera Hopefully I was accurate enough

[Raven Nightfoot]

"Petch!" that was all the young thief had time to say as she watched her recently acquired bag of coin fly into the air above her and spill it's contents quite generously among the crowd, so many mizas, so many that had been hers only moments earlier. She heard the crowd's collective gasp as they hungrily watched the sky light up with the golden glint and didn't bother to wait for the miza to drop, both figuratively and literally, before roughly and angrily shoving two people out of her way as she moved away from the immediate area, just in time as she heard the familiar ring of coin on the ground followed by a screaming mass of greedy citizens. Raven figured their was no point crying over spilt coin, although still very annoyed but she wasn't going to endanger herself just to perhaps grab a coin or two inside of the riot, this situation had quickly turned to shyke and she was more than smart enough to know it was best to separate herself from the situation. She weaved through the now shouting and fighting crowd with little more than a shove or a bump here and there, now and then dipping a hand into a pocket only to find most were empty. Opportunistic amber eyes continued to scan the area for potential victims even as she tried to distance herself from the chaos, she noticed an incredibly suspicious looking man, his eyes darting rapidly in every direction as he neared a young woman who looked quite poor and just as Raven expected, she saw the man's hand reach out toward the woman's pocket. Instantly, Raven's arm shot out to grab at the back of the thief's collar and roughly pull him away from the poor woman to allow her to make her way out of the crowd, the man stumbled back a few steps looking scared and surprised before locking eyes with Raven. "Never, step on the backs of those who are just as in need as you." she said sternly, giving the thief a bit of advice before delivering a swift kick to his chest to make sure the lesson was learnt. The man grunted as he stumbled back into the brawling crowd and Raven turned on her heel with a satisfied smirk on her face as she continued to squeeze through the crowd. Sure she was a thief and perhaps a hypocrite, but she didn't like the idea of crippling someone for one's own need, especially when there were so many far less needy people within arms reach. The riot was getting more violent by the second and Raven was sure she'd seen the gleam of steel in the crowd several times by now, coupled with the ample pained screams it was evident that plenty of bloodshed was occurring. Her nose wrinkled slightly as the stench of burnt flesh met her nose and she saw what looked like a flaming man running through the crowd in the distance, her eyes widening slightly at the increasing chaos. She continued on, ducking and side-stepping a few attacks that while weren't meant for her, had still come quite close to hitting her. Another stray punch came a little too close and more out of annoyance at the entire situation, the riot, the loss of loot and the constant bumping of filthy bodies against her clean one, Raven lashed out and grabbed at the man's wrist and above his elbow bending over and pulling the man over her body while using her shoulder for leverage. The throw worked perfectly as it had almost every time she used it and the man was sent slamming into the ground in front of her with a loud cry. Once again her trademark confident smirk adorned her features as Raven straightened out and turned to leave but stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes met with another man who's gaze had clearly been locked on her. "Can I help you, hon?" she asked in her sultry teasing tone.

[Inoadar]

Inoadar scrambled on hands and knees for several yards before an opening in the press of bodies allowed him to get to his feet. He stood in time to see the crowd swell around him, increasing the depth of mayhem he would have to navigate. Some were making panicked attempts to flee, but that hardly made things easier on those stuck in the center.

Many of those fleeing were shoved back as they bumped into onlookers who had little appreciation for their plight. This only started numerous cycles of reciprocal hostility as those they stumbled into now sought retribution as well. This ultimately brought those who would have otherwise left without incident to give in to their own anger and start swinging back.

And not all those with weapons possessed the discipline of the trained Ebonstryfe soldiers, who were finding themselves quickly overwhelmed when caught in groups of only two or three. Even as the isolated pockets of soldiers fought to regroup, citizens were lashing out with blades and bludgeons of their own. And some of these attacks unfortunately found Ebonstryfe black.

The soldier's lethal instincts and training made short work of these reckless individuals, but caused those around them to fear that even the soldiers had snapped now and lost their composure amid the increasing collective ferocity. More than one handful of citizens banded together to take down a soldier they thought was going to target them next. Even those without weapons of their own started using improvised implements or pulling daggers from the belts of those nearby. Soon bricks were flying and people were being choked with belts. It didn't seem that anyone even remembered what had started this.

Those that had originally surged in to grab a handful of coins were finding themselves losing the hands that gripped them as random blades connected on unintended targets. The soldiers' blades, though delivered with intent and accuracy, were hitting many who had not been part of the original aggression. Inoadar felt a strange sense of nostalgia as he was repeatedly reminded of the Rising Dawn riots in front of the Temple the year before. He was managing to find space to keep errant blades and fists from finding him.

But the extra degree of clearance around him only made him easier for militant eyes to locate. He had locked eyes with the squad commander at the outset of this debacle, and did so now again. The very manner in which he shrank in realization of who he faced confirmed his identity to the commander. Even without his cloak, he saw recognition spark in the eyes of the helmeted face. Judge, jury and executioner stormed in rage through a maelstrom of colliding bodies. He seemed as heedless of them as he was unimpeded. Inoadar knew he was going to have to kill this man in front of a crowd, or die begging rage-deafened ears to hear him out.

x

[Cyric]

Cyric watched as his wonderful little torch ran through the crowd causing immense panic to those nearest to him. As they rammed there way through the crowd to avoid the conflagration. Though a very unfortunate woman with a low cut skirt was unable to get out of the way in time before the man barreled past her. She screamed as her fine silk skirt caught ablaze, which another man in the crowd promptly lept to her aid meaning to tear the skirt off her using a large knife to cut it. This of course furthered her panic causing her to scream loudly, to which another man responded by socking the man with the knife in the jaw.

Cyric breathed in deep the smell of chaos fully unleashed before him. It was perhaps the most glorious thing he had seen in this retched city since he had moved there. Surely Rhysol would be pleased to see his troops struggle against such a massive outburst of insanity.

He watched as the guards systematically began bringing order to the crowd, ruthless and without error. Now that the men had regained their ranks they make quick work of any foolish enough to attempt to cut them down.

As if to add to the insanity the flaming man in his mad flailing for his life tripped and fell into the cart of a merchant who had been attempting to flee the scene, having stopped to watch the spectacle of the men in training.

Cyric liked to think it was no mere coincidence that the mans "wares" were in fact oils and other such "very flammable" things. The merchant tried to stab the flaming man out of his cart using the sword he had brought to bear to defend himself. But all that did was cause him to finally fall dead into the cart and smash open one of the rare jars of oil. immediately it BURST into flame which easily started the chain reaction and following roaring flame to erupt from the cart. Black smoke erupted from the flame which rolled out into the crowd with the afternoon breeze.

Cries of panic most certainly did not lessen now. As many people on the outer portion of the crowd lost there will to fight pushing past one another in an attempt to flee.

Cyric had been outside of the ring of madness watching safely out of the way. Perhaps it was time to find a better spot...

[Elias Caldera]

A single, guarding hand amongst the wall of crushing bodies. Elias grabbed it without a second thought and heaved himself out of the mosh pit he had fallen victim to. As he rose above the scavenging crowd, his eyes fell first on his rescuer. Tall, pale and lanky, the young mage shook his savior's hand shakily. "Thank you." He stammered after a moment of catching his breath. He had been battling for his dear life a second ago, so he hoped the man would understand his less that jubilant reaction. Of course, he doubted either of them would have concerned themselves with it much once they saw the massive pillar of fire go up nearby.

The blast of flame landed most of those nearby on their backs, and had every one else scurrying away for dear life. Had it been the mage again? Elias cursed furiously as he scrambled to rise to his feet for a second time. He turned to the stranger beside him and gave the man a grateful shake of the shoulder before bounding up and away through the crowd. He had to put out that flame, gratitude could come later. He pushed and shoved his way carelessly through the throngs of faceless people, fighting his way passed those who were equally as determined to go in the opposite direction. When he was finally free of the riot, he was welcomed by an inferno. He winced and recoiled back from the heat, pulling up his shirt to cover the lower half of his face and throwing up the collar of his coat as high as he could. The fire was intense, spurred on by whatever it was feeding itself off of in the now smoldering cart. If ever there was a moment for a water reimancer to act, this was it. Thank the gods Caldera was already here.

Res washed across his skin and arms in an instant, swirling and massing into the palms of his sweating hands slowly at first, but then more immensely as Elias steadied and controlled the flow. The first gaseous layers turned to liquid with a thought and the mage threw his hand out, unleashing a tremendous stream of water at the heart of the flame. At first he smiled, thinking of how heroic he must have looked at that point as he went to war with hell itself. It must have been pretty great. Though hidden behind his shirt, Elias's valiant expression soon turned to one of horror as he realized his folly too late. It was oil... it was gods damned oil.

The detonation of fire that followed let loose a giant, charring blast high into the sky with such suddenness and fury it sent Elias reeling back with a panicked cry and ushered forth a unified scream of the hundreds still about. The water had only served to spray the oil off the cart as well, furthering the flames already terrifying reach. The mage looked on in wide eyed disbelief at the destruction he had foolhardily brought about. He sat there, dazed, and as he did so the sound of a horn wailed over the maelstrom from somewhere to his left. It took a while for the young man to recognize it. That was an Ebonstryfe horn. He thought warily.

It was the call for reinforcements.

[Daegron]

_
"Can I help you, hon?"
Her voice shone like crystal in muddy waters. In response, an eyebrow was raised and a broad grin adorned his rugged features.

"Help me ? I'm sure we'll find a way... Or... more than one ways"

His voice had a deep raspy tone that hinted of his obvious excitement. He clenched his right hand under his long sleeves, trying to keep his focus and talons in place. A strong push came from behind him and forced him to step even closer to a breath's distance. Her scent was but a moment of pleasure before an elbow was forcefully shoved on his left side almost knocking him out of the way. He winced and pushed back, regaining his footing. There was smoke rising and soon the angry shouts were turning to screams. Staring straight into her eyes he spoke again.

"This is getting way out of hand... we ought to find a quieter place.. there's an alley somewhere behind me"

It was surely far safer than the crushing mass of people. He turned around and pushed his way out. It was his usual pride mixed with a shot of testosterone and adrenaline from the whole scene evolving around them that made him certain that she'd follow him. He didn't look back to see though. He didn't even turn when the tip of a blade scratched his thigh; just used his favourite obscene curses and kept on pushing. The screams were closer now and in that pandemonium he saw something he'd never imagined seeing in this place. A frail pale man to his right was trying to help another who was almost crushed underneath a pile of scavenging greedy men. He stopped at the impossible sight, but soon the burst of flame rising behind those two men grabbed his attention. The acrid smell of burning oil invaded his nostrils and the spreading smoke watered his eyes. An unstoppable stream of bodies and panicked faces seemed to rush towards him. The man who'd just gotten up was dashing against it towards the raging fire. Was it foolishness or determination? Either way it required guts, and that young man had huge ones. Daegron on the other hand would not stand there and wait for the impending stampede.The alley was in view, straight ahead, but it would be a hard way there. He did have a good idea though...

He momentarily stopped, standing tall and steadying himself. He focused inwards and drew a deep breath as he felt his Djed inside him boil and stir into movement. And as he breathed in more air, his ribs grew longer and his chest expanded. His lungs inflated as air rushed in. His heart struggled to pump the needed blood into the millions of vessels wrapping around them. His air tracts widened to accommodate the flow of air, his jaw and mouth widened while his neck got thicker. His throat was hardened and his vocal chords strengthened in order to endure the imminent stress. With a quick and forceful push, he shouted as hard as he could.

" GET OFF THE WAY"

His voice was greatly amplified by the shift and resembled a thunderous beast's roar, that resonated right after the sound of a distant but clear horn. The spontaneous combination seemed to work wonders. For a brief moment, people around him stood still, startled by the booming call. A few of them even made way. His breath had stopped and his heart was trying to find it's rhythm. A feeling of euphoria from the sheer amount of air inhaled was followed by dizziness. Breathless, and with a numbing pain on his chest, as if the crowds were stomping on him he made a desperate dash forward.

And when he finally reached the alley, he rested his back on the wall and slid down while his knees were failing him and his body shifted eagerly back to it's normal shape. He gasped for air and felt like fainting. His chest was aching badly and the air he managed to inhale with his weak breath was not enough. A stinging pain spread on his parched throat. His gaze searched for the amber-eyed girl, though his vision had already blurred. He needed something to shake him, someone to help him snap out...

_

[Raven Nightfoot]

The surrounding chaos did not dampen the feeling of his gaze on her. she watched as his green eyes trailed along her form before finally returning to her amber ones, fairly certain that she knew what was running through his mind at the time, and it wasn't the riot. The man's voice only made Raven's smirk grow as it supported her previous assumption about the man's thoughts, the tone was something that the young thief had encountered many times before. The short moment of respite came to an abrupt end as someone roughly bumped into the man, cutting their little stare off short as both were reminded of the crazed masses that swarmed around them like panicked insects. The man spoke again, although this time he was suggesting a way out before turning and walking through the crowd. For a moment she simply stood there and watched the man move through the crowd, wondering if it was the best idea to follow the green eyed stranger, but the alternative was struggling to find her own safe way out of the situation and since she had no clear escape plan in mind Raven decided the man's would have to do, for now at least. Ducking and dodging to avoid any unwanted contact with the rowdy riot as she tried to catch up to the strange man, her amber eyes caught a glimpse of something, actually someone, who was ghostly pale, a frail looking young man with hair which actively contradicted her own. As she made her way in the general direction of the strange green-eyed man the dark haired woman gently bumped the pale haired man, her swift fingers dipping into his pocket and pulling something out as she quickly moved on in the direction she was headed. By now, Raven had already noticed the abundance of dark smoke originating from what looked like a large bonfire, the smoke blew over the chaos obstructing her view and burning her throat but she continued on in the direction she'd been headed until finally she came to a stop behind the strange man, who had halted as well for some unknown reason. Her amber eyes watched the man's back, brow furrowed slightly in confusion as she saw something unusual, from where she stood Raven could swear the man's neck looked like it was growing thicker, but between the smoke inhalation and the crazed crowd, she couldn't be sure. A loud horn sounded through the noisy are, a signal for reinforcements Raven assumed and just as she was about to remind the strange man of their plan to escape the chaos, the man let out a booming shout, one that caused her heart and body to jump in fright at the sheer volume of his voice. The crowd reacted similarly, all startled by the immense shout and soon enough the man was walking again with Raven close behind although feeling far more uncertain about her decision than before. Finally the two broke out of the crowd and into the alley and Raven took in a few deep breaths of air between a smoke induced cough before finally turning her attention to what she had pick-pocketed from the white haired man expecting to see a coin pirse but instead was greeted with a roll of bandages. For a moment she stared at her newest acquisition with a look of utter annoyance before she was reminded of the green-eyed man who'd led her safely out of the chaos, her gaze searching the alley for his figure and finding him on the ground, slumped against a wall. Her expression changed from only annoyed to annoyed and slightly worried as she made her way over to the man, prodding his leg gently with the toe of her boot. "Are you okay?" she asked cautiously as she crouched down, levelling her eyes with his. She was sure the man's throat and chest seemed to be shrinking but after a few quick blinks of her eyes she saw no such movement and decided it not the time for potential hallucinations. Her free hand reached out to the man's shoulder shaking it gently as she tried to grab the man's attention, to wake him up. "Come on, you didn't drag me into this alley just to watch you pass out..." she said as her hand went to grasp gently at his neck. Sure, she didn't owe this man anything, but out of gratitude for giving her a quick escape from the riot, she would stay until she was sure the man was either dead, or certain that he wouldn't be any time soon.

Secret :

Just so you know Daegron, this is how I'm imagining you...

[Inoadar]

The glory of the conflagration was a spectacle Inoadar would normally have reveled in. The sudden burst of flaming chaos was like a choir of demons singing praises and spreading decorations in celebration to Rhysol. But he had no time to appreciate it.

Frustration and despair warred with fury in his heart. He was no traitor! He'd found Rhysol to be the embodiment of everything he believed in. Strength, influence, charisma, the right of those who possess these things to dominate those who do not. It was what the gods fated upon a man's present life as reward or punishment for their LAST life. Your degree of acceptance, or capacity to tear your fate away from the dregs ordained for you, to rise to heights you earned for yourself through sheer will. These were what established that no man got more or less than what they deserved. And therefore, pity and compassion were misplaced and misguided notions.

Where had he gone wrong? And how could he correct it? There would be no quarter given by this commander that now pursued him so doggedly. It did not matter that he was as devoted as any man. He was bound to keep it a secret, and this man did not know. He would strike him down with the understandable misconception that he was killing a traitor. And if Inoadar defended himself by killing the man, he would BE that traitor.

He might have eluded the man were it not for the crowd, jostling him every which way. His momentum in any direction was quickly stymied or diverted. And the commander always marked him again and renewed his pursuit. Inoadar could hardly blame these townsfolk though. The fire had suddenly spread and roared up higher than ever. All that remained of the cart now were the wheels.

Another panicked citizen slammed into him, knocking him sideways and bringing notice to the previously unnoticed lump in his jacket. As soon as his semi-distracted thoughts turned to identifying what this annoying wad was, an idea began to form.

He remembered now what it was he held in his jacket pocket. It was a packet of pure, ground Englehorn powder. If set afire, it would unleash a toxic cloud that would strike respiratory systems with near lethal effect. Inoadar backtracked, feigning desperation while he let the commander "corner" him against the flames. There were still a thick crowd between them and Inoadar covertly tossed the packet into the fire. People began hacking and staggering around, their screams at the initial pains turning quickly to choking gasps.

Inoadar took a deep breath before the smoke swirled around him. Then he lowered his head and ducked into the toxic smoke. "There's nowhere to go, traitor!" he heard the commander bellow behind him. "I'm right behind you...Inoadar! I'll see you hang for your cri-..." His voice suddenly choked off with a shocked gag.

x

[Vayl]

x

Vayl blinked in slight confusion as the person he helped up thanked him brusquely and promptly left. He guessed he hadn't known what to expect, but he had expected something a little more... major. Clearing his head by shaking it, bone white hair splaying out, he made his way to the edge of the crowd, a little dazed. He sank his hands deeply into his pockets moodily...

Where are my bandages??

Vayl sank his hands deeper into is violet jacket, searching with a hint of desperation. They'd definitely gone...

His mind frantically rewound the past few minutes in his head, every person he touched, bumped into that he had seen. Vayl's violet eyes flashed dangerously. That left 10 people he could think of. Stalking to a nearby wall, he leant against it and waited. He would follow them and find them. Monetary value was besides the point to him, they meant much more to him than they could imagine. And despised the concept of stealing anyway, it was cowardly.

Vayl's hand clenched into a fist in anger, his fingerblade showing and reflecting light off the water.

Where are you...

x

ah, death at last
my escort to blissful frailty

[Cyric]

Insanity... Rage... Passion... Betrayal... Surely all these things were present in the turmoil of this riot, Cyric simply could not run away like he should. He risked much by staying behind atop some crates off to the side of the riot. His body lacked the mobility to scale the walls of a nearby building otherwise he would have done so already.

He watched as some Water Reinmancer threw forth a gush of water at the flames caused by the burning oil. This created an explosive affect that spread the flames of chaos more destructively across the plaza. He watched as the flames danced and licked there way across some poor retch dressed in rags... Obviously of the lower rungs of society. The flames danced on his skin as he feebly attempted to put them out by rolling around on the ground... It truly was a poetic sight to behold. The men and women of this crowd had been each and every one reduced to savages and monsters.

"Praise be to Rhysol!!!" Cyric screamed across the violent plaza. Cackling wildly as he saw a blast of some volatile smoke stretch its way out of the flames, it appeared to have been done intentionally by the man that this mess originated from. He seemed well aware of the violent affects that it would have on those around him. Especially to the captain whom's cries of rage turned into choking spasms of pain.

This reaper of chaos perhaps worshiped the dark lord himself? Who could say, perhaps he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he wrought chaos so elegantly... Perhaps it was time to end the madness despite his elated feeling he was getting watching the fools around him squirm for escape of the deadly scene. This was after all the city of Rhysol. He stressed chaos just as much as he stressed order within his domain... More like... *Controlled* chaos.

Cyric cried out to some men below that were still fighting. Again calling on his hypnotic magic as he spoke, letting his Djed flow with the sound of his voice... "FLEE YOU FOOLS! LEST RHYSOL TEST HIS WRATH UPON YOU RETCHES!" The men turned to him, then ran toward the nearest avenue of escape, allowing others to finally escape as well. He doubted his magic did more than simply cause them to pay him a tad bit more notice, but invoking the name of the patron lord of there city was enough motivation to any sane person.

He turned again to the crowd continuing to cry out in attempt to help disperse the crowd.