Completed An Exercise in Escalation (open)

[Elias Caldera]

For what felt like bells, Elias just sat there, stunned at what he had done. He had been so completely confused and taken aback by the results of what he had thought were benign actions that it was hard to believe it had really gone so terribly. For a long moment he was blinded by the burning haze of the fire and his own failure. It was a hard thing to accept so lightly, but then his eyes caught sight of the thrashing and the flailing beyond the remains of the wagon. There had been a man back there, and worse yet, he was burning! The guilt that washed over him was quickly replaced with the need for action. Elias wasn't a good person, nor did he consider himself one, but he did love his city, and in part, that included its people as well. The idea that he had caused it harm was too much to bear, and so was the notion of inaction when the possibility of fixing his mistake was now laid out in front of him. He may not have known how to fight the oil fire, but he could help that man, so by Rhysol he would.

He leapt up from his seat of shame and sped forward, further into the searing reach of the fire. His attack earlier had involuntarily spread it across the courtyard, but it seemed only one unfortunate soul had still been behind the cart when it had caught aflame. Elias rushed to his side, ignoring the stinging flames and throwing off his coat in an instant. His first reaction had been to douse the man with water, but he had seen how violently the fire had reacted last time. Instead he decided he needed to smother it, and so as quickly as he could he went to work beating out the fire with his coat until the man was entirely free of it's blistering touch. When he was done, the young mage almost gagged at the smell of smoldering flesh. The man had been caught on his shoulder, his leg, and especially his arm, where most of his skin was darkened and unnaturally red. Elias tried to help the man up, but he only reacted with a pained and intolerable cry. He was no healer, and barely knew how to treat something like this. Elias cursed and helplessly laid him back down, looking around for whatever help he could find. That was when he noticed a man in black pushing his way against the tide of terrified spectators and toward the fire. He would have almost called out to him had he not noticed the Stryfe captain in hot pursuit.

Inoadar? Traitor? Was that what had been shouted at the start?

Elias watched curiously as the dark clothed stranger tossed something into the heart of the fire. Almost immediately the smoke that billowed from the bonfire turned to a sickly green, and in response Elias moved to raise his shirt over his face, only to realize in relief he had done so from the very beginning. It was a good thing too, considering his public and blatant display of reimancy a while ago. The fact that he had made matters worse did not help his case either. In fact, with how things had gone down, he doubted anyone who had watched him do what he had done would think twice before blaming the fire on him entirely. He grimaced at the thought, but kept his eyes fixated on the poisoner who dared to dash into his own putrid smoke. When he burst out the other side, minus his pursuers, Elias soon understood what the man's little bag had done. Dozens of people caught in the smoke's wake -the Ebonstryfe included- found themselves coughing, gagging and even bleeding from the mouth as they helplessly clutched at their throats. The poison would no doubt spell an end to the riot, at least here in the square, as he could think of few people who could be so infuriated they would actually risk such a fate to keep fighting. Plus, there was also battalions of guards that were surely on their way by now to consider. Those guys would probably put a serious damper on anymore thoughts of rioting.

Elias however, decided he would follow the man. He could do nothing more here, and it seemed for the moment the winds would not turn the swirling smoke back his way. As he had watched this 'Inoadar' run from the scene of the crime, Elias had been impatiently allowing his res to pour out of his hands and across the grimy, sooth soaked coat he was still clinging to. In an instant it all turned to water, drenching the plain black cloth completely. He laid it atop of the burnt and groaning man, unsure of what else he could possibly do at that point, and rose to take up the chase of the man who had evoked this entire debacle. He made sure his impromptu mask was still hiding his face as he took off behind him.

Perhaps he had gotten lucky. Perhaps this was his mad, fire wielding mage. Of course, why anyone would think running down someone like that was lucky was difficult to understand.

[Daegron]

_

Blurry figures seemed to move and merge as hie eyelids struggled to stay open. There was a numb silence that was rhythmically interrupted by the resounding thuds of his heart. The weight that burdened his chest seemed a little lighter now, but the acrid smoke had already spoiled the air he desperately tried to inhale. The air was thin; he gasped and wheezed and struggled to stay conscious, while his hands scratched desperately on the platform floor.

A black figure seemed to approach in the haze and that voice shone again.
"Are you okay?"
The tap in the foot was but a subtle nudge.
"Do I look okay to you?" he thought.
The grasp on his shoulder was like a branch; one that if he managed to grab, he'd be able to drag himself out of the river that pushed him into unconsciousness.
"Come on, you didn't drag me into this alley just to watch you pass out..."
Her hand on his neck was cold. Yet the feel of soft skin sent a shiver that beckoned him to wake. Instinctively he gripped the hand from the wrist and looked up. The talons he'd shaped a while ago were still there, trapping the pale hand in a bony cage. The first thing he managed to see through the fading blur was an amber set of eyes. She'd followed, and he was lucky that she did. Everyone else was too busy to wake the corpse-to-be that squatted against the wall. Her face was barely discernible in the haze when he mustered a breath to speak. Yet there was no voice but a weak and raspy whisper that escaped his parched throat.
"I'll be fine... ". His gaze was stern, but a cunning grin was formed on his thin lips, as he released her hand. With great difficulty he managed to stand up while the noises that filled up the air finally reached his ears. His head was light still but at least he could see clearer with each passing moment. He looked around to survey the situation. The frantic choking cough had already replaced the angry voices, and the accusations had turned to horrid cries for help. A sickly green smoke was steadily rising and spreading; all who were swallowed by it's treacherous veil were never to escape. Soon the alley would swarm with desperate getaways. In the distance someone was preaching about Rhysol's wrath and vengeance. Daegron could only imagine what the Ebonstryfe would do to this one if they believed him an instigator. The alley wasn't more than fifty feet long and ended abruptly to a canal. It wasn't wide, a good jump would do the trick, but on the other side there was just a wall that spread along both sides of the canal. on it's base, a narrow passage on the platform's edge, less than a feet wide, run along the canal.

"Stay close, gorgeous " he exclaimed and swiftly wrapped his hand around her waist to hold her close as people rushed in coughing and panting. Her figure was lithe and firm and he couldn't help but picture what was hidden underneath her leather outfit. He'd drift into dirtier thoughts, but the vile fumes were slowly spreading towards them and would soon trap them in that corner where a horrible end awaited them. He pointed to the end of the alley and whispered in her ear, knowing that it would take a few bells for his voice to return
"There's only one way out now... across the canal... think we can make it? "

_

[Raven Nightfoot]

Amber eyes continued to watch the strange man anxiously as she waited for him to snap out of his very ill timed recess. By now the shouting of the riot had disappeared and been replaced by the sounds of coughing and screaming which was significantly more unsettling, only making her patience grow even thinner than it already was. She needed to get out of here soon, with or without the strange man who still wasn't responsive. What was even more strange was that for some inexplicable reason she was still there. Finally, just as she was on the verge of convincing herself to leave the dazed man and make a run for it, she saw a spark of consciousness in the man's eyes as they began to widen more and more focusing on her own. She saw him move to grab her wrist but the feeling sent a shiver down her spine, it felt unnatural and as she looked to it she understood why. There, where a hand should have been, was some sort of monstrous claw, the very look of it made her skin crawl. The man spoke, or rather tried to which drew her attention from the bony claw that gripped her wrist as she let out a sigh of relief. "Finally." she muttered to herself. As the man began forcing himself back onto his feet Raven finally turned her attention to where the riot had been, but instead all she saw was a thick greenish smoke. It took less than a tick for her to realise that it must have been poisonous, explaining the coughing and fleeing people, reinforcing her desire to ditch the strange man and save herself, but once again he responded to her thoughts of leaving. A quick eye-roll was all he'd get in return for calling her gorgeous, it wasn't like the dark haired woman had any shortage of men wanting to give her compliments. "There's only one way out now... across the canal... think we can make it? " The young thief allowed his arm to remain around her waist only because they had bigger things to worry about and topping their list of priorities was getting away from the smoke and fleeing crowd. Her gaze went to the end of the alley to assess his exit plan, already beginning to move toward it. "Me, definitely. We? Maybe." the man wasn't exactly in the best condition at the moment but they had made it this far, she would stick with him for a bit longer. "Let's hurry."

[Inoadar]

Inoadar took a moment to pull an extra shirt from his backpack. He wrapped it around his face and tied it securely before he reversed his direction and went back into the cloud. He knew this was nothing approaching a guarantee of safety. He remembered using this same poison on a horde of Yukmen, exaggerating a deep breathing and howling action to get them to copy him, just before he ran into the cloud on THAT day.

Just like then, there was a short but satisfactory duration of complete proof against the toxic effects. But by the time he found the commander, wheezing uncontrollably and coughing up blood, he himself was feeling a sharp tickle in his own throat. By the time he'd dragged the man free of the cloud, his own lips were speckled with blood. He coughed out the taint and went back for the man's ceremonial sword. It had insignias of rank on it, and Inoadar knew he'd need to give it back.

There was the temptation to slit the man's throat and disappear, but he knew he'd been seen as the target of the commander's wrath, and if he was going to conduct public business here, he could not have such a stigma hovering over him. Besides, reinforcements were arriving.

He propped the man up against a pillar and stood by, arranging his defense arguments. He could only hint at the fact of the Black Sun endorsement for his sanction to remain in town, despite his past actions and the former bounty on his head. The notion that they wished him to draw subversive elements to him with this same reputation, and the fact of his betrayals of more than one lingering rebel this way, would be the bulk of his defense.

He would add that if not for the perpetrators of the spilled gold and the fire, which led to the intensity of the melee, he'd have handed over the man who'd called his name as proof of his devotion. He would wait for the commander himself to make some comment about supposedly poisoned smoke, about which he would feign ignorance. This thought reminded him to cast aside the shirt still wrapped around his head.

Ultimately he would offer the man back his sword and stand ready to accept judgement, saying only that he could be found any time at one of two locations in town, serving his Lord, Rhysol, the one true lord above all. And that if the commander, sir, would just take a single day to investigate his standing, he would gladly abide by his subsequent decision, figuring he must have outlived his usefulness to Rhysol. If such penitent courage did not impress this soldier, then he had no hope anyway.

But even as the words were forming in Inoadar's mind, and collating for greatest delivery, a shadow of surveillance caught his attention. He still held the man's sword, but anyone coming upon him with any real martial training would quickly perceive that he was no swordsman. His stance limited his movements and his hold was clumsy and not versatile. His hope was primarily that if his new company were Ebonstyfers, he would look like a desperate loyalist, doing his best to protect his betters, despite a lack of formal training.

But it was no soldier that approached him now, though he looked like he may have trained for such occupation some time in his past. He wore common enough clothing, a white shirt, with everything else being black. His frame looked stout, but gone a little to disuse. Inoadar's first thought was that this man may have been afflicted by a long sickness which took the sharpness from what was probably once an impressive physique. His facial expression did not give argument to the impression that he was not a happy man.

Inoadar retreated a single cautious step, bobbing the sword in his hand to emphasize its presence. "The commander is recovering sir. I'm sure there are others you could see to out there." He kept his voice level, somehow not betraying his sudden certainty that this man knew he was the one that had thrown the poison. But on second look, he believed this was the fool that had spread the fire. His confidence took a small step up as he straightened, his eyes narrowing. "I...assume that this man's health is not the issue you wish to...discuss?" he bobbed the sword again, subtly pointing it in the approaching man's direction.

x

[Vayl]

x

Vayl frowned from the top of the building overlooking the crowd, crouched like an animal ready to leap. His boots were off to allow for a very, very rapid descent when he saw his bandages. He watched on, almost in pity as people burned, choked, stumbled. A gentle breeze wafted through his hair, blowing it sideways slowly.

Watching on, Vayl saw people taking to the canals to escape. Raising an eyebrow, his lavender eyes switched to somewhere else. If anyone was going to escape with bandages, water would be the last place to go.

Vayl's gaze focussed on three men suddenly. One was prostrate on the floor, with the second standing next to him. The third approached the second man. Both had drawn weapons. Vayl frowned, before a vicious smile crossed his fangs.

This looks like too much fun to miss out on

Vayl swung his torso over the edge of the building and climbed down quickly, dropping off and falling the last story of the building, landing with one hand on the ground to soften the fall. Slipping on his boots, he strode slowly over to the trio, coming from right angles as to not startle either of the two conscious humans. He pulled his violet hood deep over his face, smiling confidently. Some part of his mind warned that he might be overconfident, but Vayl shushed it quietly. His combination of acrobatics and skill with his katana, albeit as a club instead of a sword, should be plenty enough to keep him out of harm's way.

"So. What do we have here?" he asked, perhaps to himself, almost a bone grating whisper in his foreign accent. He rested his left hand on the pommel of his katana. While this looked relaxed, this was actually the first part of a fast unsheath-and-slash method known as Iaedo in the books. It combined the motion of unsheathing the katana with the left hand with a horizontal throat level slash with both hands. The amount of times he had practised it he was confident he could to it properly.

As Vayl stood to a halt, he overheard the end of their conversation. He glanced to the man on his right, and then to the man on his left slowly, the fingers on his left hand flexing softly.

"So you injured this man?" he asked the person on his left, subconsciously leaning towards the other stranger, possibly to team up against this possible murderer.

x

But one day
you will stand before death's decrepit gate,
without really knowing why

[Elias Caldera]

He was pale, wiry, and cloaked in dark clothing. Everything about him screamed forgettable, but the mage had seen it for what it really was. His subtlety had been his camouflage.

Elias's eyes narrowed and he coughed.

By the time he had reached the man, blood had stained through his shirt and he had pulled it from his face to reveal the crimson lips hidden beneath. He had seen this man dive into the smoke more than once, for what reason, Elias hadn't been able to comprehend at the time. He must have been mad He thought as the effects of the poison began to wrack his lungs just like everyone elses. As he burst from the green smog however, the Caldera couldn't help but notice the body he had pulled free. Next came the sword. Elias recognized now the commander slumped across the base of the pillar, dazed and struggling for a breath that didn't involve drowning in his own blood.

As he approached, his pace became slower and his steps less driven by a mad anger and more by caution and wariness. Inoadar, the poisoner, the riot starter, turned on him, night black blade in hand. A mark of rank within the order. He spoke to Elias, and though they were separated by steel and a few yards, the audacity of the man to feign innocence and ignorance sent shivers of rage spiraling through Elias's body. A globule of bloody spit landed at Inoadar's feet. "Save your shyke. Did you really think you would get away with what you've done!" He began to circle the man, wary of the sword pointed at his gut. If Elias was concerned, his ireful countenance didn't show it. "Did you really think you could cause all this." he continued, his hand waving over the hacking or unmoving masses that still lay on the grounds. I can take that sword away he plotted. A blast of water and it would come right out of his hand. "That you could murder an officer of the Stryfe, and then just walk away?"

He drew a step nearer, confidence building. He had been studying the way the man went about holding his weapon and the signs of inexperience became more and more evident in his hold. He wasn't taking Elias seriously, fine, that would be his undoing. "You were wrong." Another step. Just a few more. The shallow blue glimmer of res began to take shape in his hands, slowly, but hidden from sight. He took another forceful foot towards Inoadar, readying himself. Elias knew he had to move fast. He was pushing an unseen limit with his antics today. Magic in public, and so much of it to boot. It's drain and consequences could sneak up on a novice mage, and he knew all too well what that would lead to. One more was all he needed though, just one more and then he could take it from there. He lifted his hand an-

Something in his peripheral froze his actions. A man approached, tall and lanky, but where his height and long limbs should have afflicted him with an awkward gait, he instead moved with troubling grace. Elias lowered his half hefted arm, the res fading from his skin and his thoughts. Elias recognized the stranger almost immediately as soon as his ghostly white skin and purple eyes came into view. He felt as if he was seeing him for the first time however, now that he was free from the chaos of the riot and alone with nothing but the smoke and haze of the fire.

The newcomer directed a question at the poisoner, seeming almost a tad bit eager to interject himself into the fray. It wasn't something Elias would have expected any other sane person to do. Not with the deadly fog about, a fire raging, and a near dead Stryfer lying on the floor. There was a horn off in the distance, no doubt from the direction of Vitrax. He knew when none responded in haste, those men would come assuming the worst, and doing the same to anyone they caught. Elias turned his gaze back on the two before him, unsure how to proceed. Part of him hoped the white haired man knew how to use that wooden blade at his hip, another wished he had thought to bring his own weapon...

[Daegron]

_

There was no reason to tarry, nor time to waste. His hand slipped away from her thigh and he stepped forward with bated breath. The first steps were difficult and heavy, but a few feet onward he felt confident again. Pushing with both hands and using his broad shoulders and angry mug of a face he cleared a path to the platform's edge. He picked up his pace despite the blunt pain on his chest. He was clearly shaking and wheezing, but at least the terrible smoke hadn't invaded his weary lungs just yet.

Tenacity, determination and grit. Perhaps the only qualities the Morpher had that were never frowned upon. He wasn't one to give up, whatever the cost. Not that he had a choice but to succeed. Either he'd stay and suffocate in the toxic fumes or he'd fall in the canal, and drown. His respiratory system, now overly stressed, would not survive the shock. He valued his life greatly, a consequence of his pride. And even in this grave moment he'd adapt and overcome or perish. Just a few steps were left, so he tried his best to give himself the little edge he needed to make the jump.

With his broken voice, the sickly croak he mumbled his mantra. And through this dark invocation, syllable after syllable, nonexistent word after word, he led his Djed, forcing it by sheer will and resolve to twirl and move to initiate the change; through vessels filled with streaming blood, through nerves and bone towards his legs. He made his muscles bulge and strengthen, the countless neural branches multiplied and connected, forming a union whose strength surpassed that of an athlete. And as they did and while foul sentences were uttered, each step felt lighter than the last...

This shift was far from perfect. It was hasty and careless but it was enough to give him a chance to succeed. And as soon as he'd reached the edge he mustered all the air he could breathe and made a desperate leap of faith. Faith to himself, to his art and to the drive of a bastard who refused to quit.

"Shyke !"

The landing was a loud thud and a groan. The sound of a man who'd barely managed to cross the gap only to crash on the wooden wall. A wave of pain rose from his feet all the way to his head the moment he landed. His beast-like hand grasped the wall; long talons sunk into the wall. His focus was lost in an instant. His body swiftly seized the chance to return to it's normal form. And as his claws retracted violently, the sharp and agonizing stings were spread from his fingertips all the way to his shoulder. His feet were numb and shaking, his breath was gone, his aching chest was resonating like the head of a drum, but he'd reached the other side, still standing. With blurry eyes he followed the wall's length. It was a few more feet away, another alley; this one was empty of people and smoke, another step towards safety...


_

[Raven Nightfoot]

As they started moving Raven began to assess the jump, it was definitely going to take some effort, even for her. Amber eyes darted nervously to the man at her side, in his current condition, there was no way he was going to make it, but before she could voice her doubts he had released his hold on her and was now heading towards the jump. She watched after him, nervously chewing the inside of her cheek as the stranger got closer to the canal. At first the man was barely limping but after several steps he began to pick up the pace and by the time he was almost upon the jump he seemed completely recovered, if not better. The young thief watched with bated breath as the man reached the end of the alley and practically flew into the air and across the gap, her eyes widened in surprise at the sudden boost in strength, perhaps he wasn't as weak as she'd thought he'd been. Now, with the man safely on the other side, with a less than graceful landing, not that it mattered, it was Raven's turn. She paused for a moment to assess the distance she had to run before making the jump, trying to calculate her foot placements and then without another moment to waste, she was off. Air rushed past the dark haired woman's face as she ran, arms raised and swinging back and forth as her legs sped up until she neared the edge and with one final push of both her legs she leapt into the air, her lithe acrobatic form soaring for a moment before she landed lightly on the other side, bumping into the wall with a small grunt followed by a loud sigh of relief at making the jump. "Well...that was fun." she said with a short satisfied laugh as they began to sidestep along the wall toward the nearby alley.

[Inoadar]

Inoadar grit his teeth in the face of the man's accusation. "Shyke', is it? I think you better get your facts straight, Sir." The sword lifted a little more in the reimancer's direction. Trained or not, Inoadar could readily see that his accuser wielded nothing to parry it with. Nothing but his potential to cast water. "I have murdered no one. You may want to go back and check for victims of that FIRE, however, before you go throwing accusations around." Inoadar's eyes narrowed as his expression developed a malicious grin. "I suspect the curious way in which it...suddenly spread...may have caught a few by surprise." he gestured directly at Elias with the sword, saying very pointedly, "I should think whoever was responsible for THAT, is far more guilty of murder than me." He took a step forward, his eyes flashing. "And you can bet your ass if anyone that guilty should try to level accusations against ME, I'll see to it that they go down WITH me." His eyes caught the approach of a slim young man. Inoadar gave Elias a subtle nod to the scene behind him. He lowered the sword and took a step back, hoping that Elias would understand that he could turn and look without Inoadar launching an attack against him. His voice quickly took on a tone of wanting to deal. "I would think we can agree that things can go very wrong? Yes? Without it having been our intent? I was only passing through. It was the idiot that attracted the attention of the guard to me...Mistakenly, I might add...that started this whole debacle." The commander's breathing started to sound less labored and Inoadar could see his eyelids fluttering. He would be coming around shortly. Inoadar took a step towards his former accuser, who seemed now to be sharing his concern over the arrival of this slim young man. The newcomer's accented hiss was rife with undisguised hostility. Inoadar might have applauded it, were it not directed at least partially at him. "So. What do we have here?" The lanky newcomer said, his tone clearly eager for discord. The move of his hand to the pommel of his sword supporting this impression. Inoadar inwardly loved the subtle signs of violent intent in the kid's stance. But his purpose was unclear yet. 'Does he want to kill the commander, and sees me as an obstacle? Does he want to kill me because he thinks I want to harm the commander? Is he just insane?' The white haired young man seemed to lean toward Elias as he directed his next question at Inoadar. "So you injured this man?" The poisoner tightened his grip on the commander's sword, though it still felt clumsy to him. He could see that this newcomer had no such problem with his own weapon. He wondered if this new threat would persuade Elias to join the youngster against him. Elias had seemed about to agree with him, but he was not so sure now. But showing fear or contrition would not aid him here. He took a step toward the young man, his mind instinctively disregarding the clumsy feel of the sword in favor of putting low anger into his OWN voice. "I find myself growing very tired of this accusation, junior. I am guarding the commander until he regains consciousness, at which time I will return his sword to him. If you have hostile intent towards him, then you are a traitor. If you intend to wait until I am disarmed, then you are a coward." He turned slightly, directing his voice towards Elias, but keeping his eyes on the swordsman. "And what about you? Did we not agree that our accounts of events confirmed our innocence? Are we going to let this skinny little shyke call us liars?"

[Vayl]

x

An eyebrow raised, amused. Vayl's violet eyes glistened in mirth. He'd achieved more than even he thought possible. He stood stock still and simply stared the sword-holder steadily in the eye.

"When did I call you a liar, stranger? As far as I recall I just asked you if you had harmed him." looking through his hair he smiled feigned innocence.

"Yunno, if you had just told me you were guarding him without insulting me I might have believed you. But you were so defensive, so fast, it's kind of obvious you're covering something up."

The tension seemed to build between the pair of them, wind blowing softly through Vayl's hair, his hand tightening its grip.

Suddenly Vayl chuckled and took a step back, letting both his hands hang by his sides, everyone seemed to relax. Vayl took a quiet deep breath.

Suddenly his hand flashed to his katana, and he performed the iato with perfect speed and accuracy, the weapon unsheathing and slicing to the right in the same motion.

Well it would have been perfect if he had actually hit the culprit.. But he had misjudged the distance and the tip of his sword lay an inch or so from the man's throat. Vayl held his position still, he could still use this as intimidation. With a slowness and precision that belied a greater skill than he actually had, he sheathed his weapon.

"Just be thankful I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt." he muttered darkly, his eyes a darker shade of mauve from under his cobweb hair.

Smiling confidently, despite the fact he was chastising himself for missing, he took a step back and pulled his hood over his head.

"I'll be watching." Vayl paused.. what had that person said earlier.. that insult Ee-no-a-dah..

Vayl laid on a nice thick Symenestra accent. "Eenoadahr" he smiled as if he knew what that meant.

x

But one day
you will stand before death's decrepit gate,
without really knowing why