PM to join Weathering the Inclement Weather

[Sira]

Timestamp: 35th of Summer, 515 AV

Day 1...

The thumping of drums, the strumming of instruments, the whistling of flutes, the beating of feet, and the laughter, cheers, and moans of ecstacy filled the air in the Inclement Weather, permeating the stone walls and vibrating Sira down to her bones. The endal danced, carelessly spinning and twirling with anyone who came near her, grabbing their wastes and grinding against them. Her lips pressed to a man she did not know, their tongues wrestling briefly as his hands roamed her body hungrily, and then she twirled away into the arms of a woman. Their bodies pressed hard against each other and Sira could feel the heat of the woman and reveled in it. She twirled away again to find herself facing the bar, and decided that perhaps it was time for a break, though even as she made her way to it she still moved and swayed to the ever beating sound of the Inclement Weather. Dripping sweat she sat down at the bar, not on a stool, but on the lap of a strapping young avora who happily welcomed her aboard.

"Buy me a drink," she whispered as she leaned in to kiss his neck and nibble at his ear, knowing full well she could have afforded drinks for everyone at the bar.

The man did as he was bade, not seeming to care that he was buying a drink for a woman he didn't know, who had more pinions in her pockets than he probably made in half a season. All he cared about was the lips brushing against his neck and the teeth nibbling softly at the lobe of his ear, and the hot breasts pressed against his bare chest, only the thin fabric of her vinati separating her skin from his.

The drink came and Sira deftly spun out of his lap and onto the stool next to him, taking up the glass and raising it to him in a toast, or perhaps it was a dismissal, before she drank. The man stared, shocked, and realized when Sira turned away from him to scan the crowd that it was indeed a dismissal. Everyone was dancing, all of them lost in the revelry that was the Inclement Weather. With the season as bad as it was, they all needed a distraction. Sira did to. She had not been there during the initial Zith attack, but she'd had her fill of the winged monsters in the days after. And then of course there were the rockslides, and the work detail she was forced to participate in, not that she minded that part all that much. She was willing to do her part to help the city, whether it meant hunting, or hauling stones. But still, it was good to take a break and just enjoy herself.

The endal leaned back against the bar, having forgotten the man next to her completely. She wondered if anybody she knew was around. She was still breathing heavily from the dancing and could use a moment of conversation, though if nobody turned up, she'd head back onto the floor soon enough. The drum beats called, and Sira could only resist for so long.

[Phlox]

The Inclement Weather. Now there was a place of childhood shenanigans. With her recent change into Turrin’s flight and the immense training that had been put on her shoulders by Naime, she had not been able to come as early to the nightclub as she would have liked. Endalhood had seemed to be easy in the past, but with all the recent activity of the ground, ripping their city apart from the ceiling down, it had been excruciatingly difficult. She had finally found some time for herself, and Ithuriel had been insistent she take the night off. Mostly because that meant Ithuriel could have a decent night’s sleep without Phlox pacing around the aerie. As she approached the Inclement Weather, the atmosphere became heavy with pulsations, the smell of sex, sweat, and drugs, and the sweet rhythm of music. She missed this.

She took a breath the moment she passed over the threshold and into the pit of a room. Below, bodies were writhing and bumping against one another. She had been a part of them once upon a time, as a Yasi and a young Endal. She had had many trysts in the pile as well. It was lovely. Summers were her favorite time to come down here, especially on the theme days. It was still hot in the room, even though she was dressed only in her black bryda and criss-cross, off-the-shoulder vinati. Her ankle boots were even a bit stuffy for her feet. Aside from that, she had a noteable set of claw marks on both shoulders. A souvenir from the battle against the Zith earlier this season. Even more reason to enjoy this night. They were still healing, but it was clear they were going to be scarred once the process was completely.

Slowly she descended the levels, glimpsing into the alcoves from time to time. Endals were having their way with pretty Avora women and men, enticing them with drinks. How many of those drinks were laced, Phlox did not even have a notion. More than she would have guessed, which always made it dangerous to receive a drink that you did not watch the bartender pour for you. Of course, that was where she was heading right now. The bar. She had had a craving for a Fuzzy Squirrel ever since she decided to come down here. It was some of the darker alcoves that were partaking in inhaling pleasure drugs, and tripping their way through the night.

Soon she made it down to the bar, sitting next to a young Avora male who was watching the dance floor like a hungry eagle. Soon, a lovely young woman slapped her butt down on his lap. His eyes looked like they had just bonded with an eagle, the prize that was sitting on his lap was welcomed. Phlox turned away from the scene to allow it to unfold, catching one of the bartenders to get her a drink.

”Fuzzy squirrel please.”

With drink in hand a few ticks later, she turned to survey the scene. Not surprised, she noted that he was ignored after buying the woman a drink and she was surveying the mess of bodies on the dance floor. Figures. She clearly was a manipulator. Defeated and dismissed, he picked up his drink and headed for the dance floor, looking for easier prey. He found it quickly, offering his drink to her. Soon, they were walking off the dance floor.

”I think that was rather harsh, leading him on like that? Course, he probably deserved it with that laced drink he just used on that poor girl.” Phlox stated loudly, sliding into the recently vacated seat next to the woman. She was already sweaty. She must have been here a while, which was nice. Maybe she would stay long enough and help Phlox get acclimated to the setting their were in for the evening.

”Name’s Phlox Ithuriel. You, sultry temptress, are…?”

*-1 Pinion for drink and tip.

Speaking
Thinking
Ithuriel

[Turrin]

Turrin hasn't been taking any chances since the recent calamities that have struck the city in the last thirty five days, so the War Hawk endal decided to take a proactive approach to his personal safety and wear his talon sword at all times even to harmless places like the Inclement Weather. Putting on his best pair of bryda, the myrian brushed his hair after taking a nice long soaking bath. When he was finished the half breed wrapped a new bandage around his abdomen. The claw wounds the Zith gave him were mostly healed thank to the quick actions of the healers of the Infirmary, but the places where the claws went into were still tender to the touch. At least he wasn't bed ridden anymore, so the myrian decided that he needed to celebrate his quick than normal recovery with a drink at the Weather. Nothing says good health like a strong drink. Walking past Drusilla's room, the myrian knocked on the door a couple times. He knew the Symenestra had been sick for the last couple weeks, so she might be to exhausted to get out of bed, so Turrin said with a smile, “Dru.. I am going to head to Weather to get a drink, so when I get back, I will check on you.” The half breed didn't hear a reply from his spidery companion, so he said with a grin, “Try not to die, OK.”

Turrin chuckled to himself when he left his aeries. He was happy that Drusilla and him were repairing their almost broken relationship. However, to his surprise, the myrian had started to noticed that the tenderness between them was blossoming into something romantic. Maybe he should think about buying her a scarf soon? The myrian banished thoughts of women out of his head for tonight because he needed to think about more pressing matters. Getting as drunk as possible to toast his victory over the wounds the Zith gave him. A few more weeks when he was a hundred percent health. He would take his revenge to the Unforgiving and hunt down those gods forsaken creatures to extinction. It was myrian thing to do. Besides, he wanted Drusilla safe without having to worry about those winged freaks swooping down on her. Tapping the pommel of his talon sword, the myrian slowly made his way to the Inclement weather. As he walked down the tunnel, he noticed the warrens seemed hotter than usual. When he made it to the Weather, the line seemed to smaller than usual because he figured most of the people were already in the club. The endal didn't want to be a typical endal today, so he decided to wait his turn like the rest of the Inarta.

When Turrin got into the club, the myrian wasn't interested in dancing till he was numb enough to ignore the dull throbbing pain on each side of his abdomen. It was easy for the intoxicated Inarta notice the towering half breed as he walked through the crowd. Most let him pass except for a few who were two far gone to notice him. The air was filled with smoke and the smell of sweaty bodies and alcohol. The aroma was quite pungent, but he figured the alcohol will dull his senses enough to forget about it. As he got closer to the bar, he first noticed Sira who was enticing a man out of his hard pinions with her feminine charms. It was quite comical how quickly the man bought her a drink and just as quickly the alluring endal dismissed him. Turrin knew if the woman like Sira stuck her breasts in his face. He would quickly cave in and buy her a drink too. He might not have much clue about women, but he knew enough not to pass up a opportunity when it sits down in your lap. As he got closer, the myrian noticed another endal a woman named, Phlox Ithuriel. Who seemed to have started a conversation with Sira. During the Zith raid, Turrin was impressed by the women's fighting spirit in the heat of battle. The myrian knew that she would be a impressive member to the War Hawks, and he know has a better opportunity to get to know her outside of the Wing.

When the young Avora got up, he shot a glare at Sira and without looking walked right into Turrin chest who was standing behind him. The young man looked up at him, and the myrian looked down at him with a toothy grin on his face and said quietly enough for only he would hear, “You be grateful. She allow you to touch her. Go dance, Avora...” The man narrowed his green eyes at Turrin, but he obeyed his command and vanished into the crowd.

When Turrin got to the bar, the half breed sides were starting to throb, so he leaned up against the bar for support by Phlox. He hated feeling as weak as did because of his injuries, but he wouldn't be able to look at himself in the mirror if he showed weakness in front of his peers. Looking at the two endal women, the myrian gave them a smile and said in broken Nari, so Phlox could understand him, “Since I can't pass up chance to buy two pretty women drink. Next round on me. OK.” Inwardly, Turrin groaned at his lack of elegance with his mother's tongue, but he smirked at Sira and said with a wink in common, “No need to convince me with your feminine charms either, Sira. My treat...”

[Brandon Blackwing]

Dancing sweaty people, all stuffed in a room that was a little to small for the crowd. Inclement Weather; with it's drinks, its music and atmosphere it was the place to be for party-loving Inarta and non-Inarta alike. Usually, Brandon would be one of those, absolutely loving to place not only because it was a perfect hunting ground for a pickpocket, but also because of the sheer fun that could be had by spending time in the place. The party at the end of spring had been one of the better ones the bat had experienced, but maybe he'd just been a lot more drunk than usual. The hangover had been one of the worst ever, if that was a way to measure things.

And yet, despite its reputation, despite the bat's experiences, the Inclement failed to entertain him tonight. Perhaps it was just his mood, the mood that had worsened the further they got into the season. No way out of the city through the gate, earthquakes, falling rocks, panic, disaster, stupid work crews, Zith attacks, annoying wounds that itched like hell! Everything just kept stacking up, and nothing was removed of the equation. Not to mention that in general his mood the past season had not been the greatest either. No flying, no shifting. Petching owls everywhere! How in the world was he supposed to hold on to a good mood anyway?

Sitting alone in an alcove did not really help matters either, but not having any company was the least of his concerns really. Some time to be alone was appreciated, though if he'd wanted that he could have stayed in his room. The again, he wouldn't have had any drinks... not that they tasted as good as normal -obviously another effect of his bad mood. Said mood was probably the reason why just about everyone kept their distance; the bat's face was rather grim too. The only people that did come though were either drugged or very drunk, but even they did not stay very long; there was little point in trying to have a conversation with a man who either did not reply or if he did it was a brief and blunt answer.

Brandon did not mind it though, not one bit. No company was better than bad company. That said, this visit had become the exact opposite of what it was supposed to be. It was supposed to take his mind away from his problems -this city's problems for that matter- and let him have fun. But no. Nope, that was too much to ask of course. Or perhaps this was the god's way of telling him it was about time to stop running from his problems and face them for once. Or maybe that was just a stupid notion he couldn't care less about. Like the gods cared about his troubles, ridiculous!

Though, it may be a good idea to try and shake off some of those things troubling him. Now was just as good a time as any, why wouldn't he try it now? The question though; what was he supposed to do about it? His woulds could only heal; the fact that they were itching meant they were about fully healed or at least almost. Sure, there were still bandages around various parts of his body, and other places had crusts all over them, but that was only natural. Whatever was wrong with the city was not something he could fix, nor something he would try to fix either. Zith attacks? Nothing he could do about them either, except chasing the creatures off.

No, the thief's mood had one single thing at its core, one problem that would need solving before it could be restored to normal without it sitting still in the back of his mind. Without he had to run from it, or try to forget it. The owls. The scar on his back. Maybe he had to find out what exactly he was afraid of, why he hadn't shifted ever since the wound on his back had healed. Whether it was coming to terms with something or facing that which frightened him, to get back to being himself he'd need to solve that puzzle first. He'd have to think about it for a change instead of just pushing it to the back of his mind. Perhaps he could do it in a night. Or maybe not.

Either way, things couldn't really get worse this time around.

Credit goes to Cylos Marn

[Sira]

Sira grinned at the the other woman, her eyes swiftly taking in the look of her, from the golden eyes to the pierced belly button. Her eyes lingered on the claw marks on her shoulder knowingly. The comment about the drugged drink brought a dark thought to her mind. If he had, everyone in here would be dead. She kept the thought to herself, however. This woman didn't need to know about the last time someone had drugged her. Sultry temptress? That brought another grin to the kelvic's face, and she leaned in so she could be heard.

"Im Sira." She glanced after the man who walked off, noticing Turrin, but not remembering what the other man looked like and not spotting him in the crowd. "And he'll be fine, as long as he doesn't lace the wrong drink."

Sira gave the other woman another appraising look. An endal, though she could tell that from the name alone of course. Sira did not know Ithuriel personally, though she was at least a little familiar with all the eagles flying around the mountain. There was something nagging at her about the name though, some bit of trivia she could not quite remember. Oh well, if it was important she'd remember it later. She was about to lean in and say something so perfectly seductive she'd have the woman alone in an alcove in less than a quarter bell, but then Turrin showed up. Sira straightened, the slight irritation lingering on her face only for an instant before it passed and was replaced by another grin.

"Are you sure, warhawk?" Warhawk! That's it! There was a new addition to the warhawk a recently. Was it Ithuriel and Phlox? Sira tended to keep an ear out for news among the warhawks a because more than once she had considered becoming one of them, but it would have never worked with Aidara as her endal, and she wasn't going to join up until she bonded with a new endal. No matter, there was a Turrin to tease now. "Are you sure you don't need just a little convincing? Don't want my feminine-"

The ground beneath them started to shake. Hard. Petch! Not again! The shaking was far worse than anything they'd felt all year. Sira was nearly knocked from her stool at the bar. It did not start soft, but hard, and several people were indeed knocked from their feet. Dust fell around them from the stone ceiling, but it did not break. The music stopped, replaced by frightened screams. Sira grabbed hold of the woman next to her for support, reaching out for her shoulder then flinching as she realized she'd just grabbed the claw marks and let go. The shaking lasted only a few chimes and when it stopped silence fell over the cavern for a few tense moments.

"Is it over? Did anyone get hurt?"

All around people were cautiously climbing back to their feet. Some started to laugh as the tension drained out of them, and one drummer tentatively struck up a beat for less than a chime before falling silent.

"We should.. probably go check and see what the damage was," Sira said to both the endal with her.

And then the screaming started. Petch, what now? The shaking is over? Sira spun, staring as a stream of people ran in, not out, but into the already crowded night club screaming for their lives.

"Come on, let's go check it out, Sira's voice rang out in Phlox and Turrin's mind as she set up a three way link between them, allowing them all to speak with each other. "Turrin, be ready with that sword. It might be more Zith."

It wasn't, but the three endal couldn't see that from their vantage. Brandon, however, could see from his alcove into the long hall that led out from the Inclement Weather. Behind the fleeing people he saw an orange glow, and his keen ears might have even picked up the hissing and crackling of.. something. Something that a moment later crashed into the corner at the far end the tunnel where it turned and made it's climb upward toward the rest of the city. Lava. Hot, bubbling lava.

The lava was slowed by the turn, but it did begin to flow down the hall toward the Inclement Weather, consuming a pair of Inarta who had stumbled in their haste to get away. Brandon was able to see as a man step forward, toward the oncoming lava, while the last of those in the hall ran past him. He knelt and placed his hands on the stone, and though Brandon probably couldn't see it, channeled his res into the ground and toward the lava. A wall of stone shot up in front of the wall and the man stood back up, a smug look on his face.

The look was wiped clean when the stone turned red and began to melt, and the lava continued down the hall towards them, gaining speed as the pressure behind it built. The reimancers eyes went wide and he fell back to the ground, and this time tendrils of res could be seen pouring from his entire body. He sent the res across the floor all the way to the edge of the lava and then thrust up with his hand. The res filled the hall entirely and then, just like that, turned to stone. While everyone waited to see if it would hold, the mage stood, wobbled, and fell to his back. Bloody wounds had appeared on his body, and his left hand looked hard as stone. His chest still rose and fell, but the mage otherwise remained still.

[Turrin]

Turrin couldn't help himself and noticed the slight irritation on Sira's face when he interrupted her conversation with Phlox. Playful smile forming on his lips, he wasn't surprised that Sira teased him in such a sultry tone of voice, but their conversation was cut short when the mizahar around them started to shake. Turrin immediately reached out and braced the bar counter, but in turn with his other hand, he put a hand on the back of Phlox to keep her from falling off her stool. She was apart of his wing, so he needed to make sure his wing member was safe. She could protest to him later after the mizahar-quake stops. When the tremors stopped, the music stopped also, but it was quickly replaced by screams of terror. When Sira asked if he was alright, Turrin nodded his head, took his hand off Phlox's back, and responded in broken Nari, “I been worse. No injuries...”

Turrin knew that he been through worse before because he survived the djed storm of 512AV; however, the storm left him orphaned because the storm claimed both his mother and his sister's lives. Suddenly, he heard Sira's voice in his head, and the myrian just stared at Sira in shock as she talked to him without her lips moving. Turrin was dumbfounded by the development because he knew that he could talk to Aponivi through their telepathic link, but he never heard of another endal speaking to another endal through their telepathic link. The myrian knew that he could ask her later about it, so he decided to focus on the task at hand. Turrin mentally responded to Sira, Got it, Sira, but I doubt Zith are capable of shaking the whole volcano. I would be more worried about a panicked mob right now...

Suddenly, Turrin saw a yellowish red light coming from the corner as he saw the group of people running from the glow, and to his horror, a river of lava started to pour into the dance hall. The river was slow moving, but it consumed a pair of Inarta unlucky enough to get in it's way. Turrin decided to move quickly from his spot and started to usher people away from river of lava. Turrin yelled to the crowd and started to wave them to a higher elevated part of the club, “Everyone! No panic! Go to highest point in club away from river of liquid rock. Go now and quickly!” In the chaos, Turrin saw a young woman slip near the river of lava, so he ran over her, grabbed her arm, and lifted her to her feet. The endal could tell she was in a panic, so he shook her with both arms to try to regain her senses and said loudly in nari, “Go to higher part of club quickly. Go!” The woman looked at him, broke away from his weak grip, and ran to higher ground. Feeling the heat start to grow as the lava slowly started to approach. Turrin started to back away from the river and got to higher ground with the rest of the crowd.

Suddenly, Turrin saw a man run out of the crowd and knelt down on the ground. The myrian could only yell futile orders at him to get back into the crowd, but luckily, the man did something that saved the life of everyone in the Inclement Weather. When the man raised his hands, the ground around him rose up and ceiling and walled everyone inside the Inclement Weather. Turrin could only stare in disbelief because the man wasn't moving and there was no way out of the club either. The half-breed could only just shake his head when he realized that the man might have saved them from a quick death by the love, but he might have brought upon a slow death and less humane death in the end. Turrin mentally sent a message to both endals in broken nari, If we only endal. We need leader. No need to step on toes. I can't leader now. Nari no good. You and Phlox decide quickly before panic starts. Sira if I loose life. You take sword bring order to mob. After you survive all of it. Bring sword to Drusilla...

Turrin could tell people all around were starting to panic when realization started to set in that they were truly trapped in the Inclement Weather with no escape. The half-breed knew that he needed to bring order otherwise the intoxicated mob might start to panic. The myrian stepped out in front of crowd with a hand on the hilt of his sword and yelled in broken nari to the crowd, “Everyone shut you beaks now! I need calm head now, so we can think of plan. No panic. Just calm head...”

[Brandon Blackwing]

All of a sudden, the ground shook violently, as did everything else on top of it. The bat's drink rocked on the table, moving towards the edge before tumbling to the floor. Brandon himself wasn't really affected by the quake because he was sitting on the stone bench in the alcove. Nevertheless it was pretty obvious this was a big quake, probably the worst one since the landslide that had covered the gate. Or maybe even worse. The shaking did not last long though, a couple chimes, but there was quite a bit of people on the floor, and there was an uncomfortable silence hanging over the whole Inclement Weather, ultimately broken by a drumbeat. However it did not last very long.

People screamed and ran back into the party cave, obviously in a state of panic. The bat frowned, there was, apart from the sweaty scent clinging to the whole of the Inclement, a strange smell invading. It smelled like Wind Reach, though many times stronger and fresher. Along with it came an orange glow, and the hissing of something. Still frowning, Brandon got to his feet, just in time to see the lava flow towards the hall packed with people. Lava, so that's what it was. Petch! If that got in here they were screwed. However, a man approached and knelt, moments later a wall of solid stone shot out of the ground into the ceiling, blocking the lava's path and trapping everyone inside. Reimancy, without a doubt.

Sadly, the effort was for naught, as the stone soon began to melt and the lava refused to stop its creeping movement, approaching closer every tick. The Reimancer did not give up though, filling the whole hallway with his magic reimancer ooze while Brandon weaved through the crowd. All of the ooze became stone then, and this time it seemed it was a barrier the lava wouldn't be able to break through... but neither would the people trapped. The bat cursed, staying near the edge of the crowd, watching the reimancer intensely. His hand seemed to have become a rock, and all over his body there were bleeding wounds. For now he was unconscious, but the bat did not trust it at all. One did not live in Lhavit for over a year without knowing about mages going insane or getting strange deformations. People were all chirping away panicky, but there was one voice booming over all of them. Turrin; that voice was unmistakably Turrin's. Good gods, could this situation become any worse?

A huge sigh escaped Brandon and instead of staying in the crowd -it was getting unpleasantly hot in the club- the thief drew up next to the fallen reimancer, kneeling beside him. His hand really looked like a statue's, and the bleeding of his body did not look like it was going to stop anytime soon. His wounds were deep too, not just superficial -most of them anyways. Right, this guy needed a doctor, and soon, or else he'd bleed out... if something worse hadn't happened already. Internal injuries for example. Perhaps it'd be best if he just freed him from his misery now, killing the reimancer while he was out cold. Brandon wasn't really looking forward to dealing with a crazy mage in this situation. Then again, they could use him to get out of here, let him dig a tunnel out of the club with his magic. If he ever woke up, that is. Or if he still could use his magic. And of course, if he did not go crazy on them.

Damn, a dilemma. Sure, Brandon wanted to get out as soon as possible, but that did not mean he could just let any threat to his survival live. This guy was too much risk to have around. Besides, one dead man could cause others to live on. For the greater good, yes. Most people were looking at Turrin anyway. “Sorry, fellow,” Brandon whispered quietly, “you'll get to meet Dira a little sooner than you expected.” The bat sighed. Help wouldn't be reaching this place soon, who knew what damage the quake had done in the city? Who knew how long it would take until they realized the Inclement was cut off? And how long would it take for people to find a way to get in here and actually get in here? Too long. With injuries like these the reimancer would need intense medical attention, even the Kelvic could tell that. He'd die eventually, stuck in here, suffering greatly. And even if he did survive, he'd be demoted to dek because of his hand. That was just how Wind Reach worked. “I'll end your suffering before it has even begun. May Dira lead you safely to your next life.”

And with that the bat grabbed the man's head and twisted hard, breaking his neck, killing him quickly. Now, people wouldn't possibly understand his reasons or his reasoning, and they'd either panic and run or turn against him. But that was where Turrin came in; while Brandon did not like to admit it, the halfbreed with his broken Nari was quite a leader figure, and if anyone would be able to calm down the masses after this, it would be him. Maybe because of his sword, or maybe just because of his reputation. Either way, it was beneficial to the bat. Unless of course, he decided to be foolish and attack Brandon too. Now that would be a predicament... probably.

Credit goes to Cylos Marn

[Phlox]

Sira. Sira was quite a charmer, laying it on thick even for Phlox. It was, in a sense, romantic. Especially since Phlox could not remember the last she had even been looked at by another person. She clearly spent way too much time in her aerie, basking in the warmth of her eagle and their bond. Maybe she needed to get out more. Before she could lay on her own blanket of thick sweetness, Turrin was there. Phlox only turned her head to the point where she could see the muscular half-breed out of the corner of her golden eye. It was odd, seeing her ‘superior’ out and about in such a strange atmosphere. Especially when his wounds were so much more than hers. Politely she nodded her head in greeting, a sly smile creeping on her lips.

”If you are buying, I’ll being drinking!” Her voice was louder than normal, the environment begging it to be to get over the noise. Idly, she began to roll her glass around, balancing it with the point of her index finger. Tonight was going to be a good nig—

The earth shook and broke into her hopeful thoughts, the Fuzzy Squirrel tilting to far out of her control. The orange, frothy contents dumped onto the bar, splashing onto her lap and dribbling onto the floor. Had it not been quaking at that point, maybe Phlox would have noted the sudden dampness of her Bryda. Similarly, she may have used it as an excuse to get closer to Sira to mop up any unnecessary splatter. Instead, she was reaching down to grip the barstool. Meanwhile, Turrin was placing a safe hand in the middle of her back and Sira was voraciously digging her fingers, even if momentarily, into her shoulders. A shriek slipped past her lips as Phlox was transported mentally back to the battle. The foot of a Zith placed on her back as it ripped into her shoulder with sharp, black fingernails.

Her eyes were wide as she was transported to the night where she had to test her mettle. Only when Sira’s words slipped into her mind did she seem to come from the delusion. For a moment she wanted to reach back, to hold onto the bond that she had with Ithuriel, with her eagle. Yet, it wasn’t right. This was something else. Phlox shook her head, withdrawing that mental scrabbling for a bond that didn’t exist. Golden eyes flickered back into life and focused on Sira. It was Sira, not Ithuriel. How…? No matter. Investigation was needed at this point.

Vaulting off her stool, she tried to ignore the numbing pain that radiated in her shoulders. The crowd seemed to pull and surge towards the door like waves in a storm on the bay. She scurried to keep up with Sira and Turrin. Now, she wished she had something to help keep order. Without a dagger and bow, she felt somewhat useless. What kind of Endal was she, to go tromping about unarmed? Mental scolding would have to continue later as the darkness was suddenly lit up by…something. Whatever was going on caused the wave of people to stop and turn, heading back in the other direction. If Turrin had not been in front of her, she was sure she would have been trampled. Instead, the wave of people seemed to part around the party of three, revealing the river of lava, and a ballsy man who thought standing in front of it may stop it. Who was he? A God?

Well, whomever he was, it was a good alternative. She did not understand what happened, but he did something that turned air practically into stone. The earth crept up towards the ceiling in a wall. Even a victory squeal was about to escape her when the glow of lava began to pour through the stone. So much for victory. Yet, it didn’t look like he was done. Whatever was going on, whatever random magic this was, he turned the air into stone. Solid stone, all the way down the tunnel.

All the way down their route of escape.

Awed and scared all at the same moment. She had never felt this overwhelmed at one time. How was she too handle this? Turning to Turrin, she expected him to have a plan. His plan seemed to turn it on her and Sira. Phlox held up her hand and shook her head wildly. There was no way that she would be able to lead.

”You are bigger and stronger Turrin. Who cares about a language barrier? They would follow your strength over my overly feisty personality. Besides, it is only a matter of time before that savior comes up with a plan to let us out.” The words had only left her mouth for a tick or two when a strange man was taking the fate of every single person in that room and putting a noose around it. The wizards head was suddenly facing in a direction it clearly should not have been. Dumbfounded, Phlox had a split second to control what was about to happen next.

She chose not to.

”You petching, little shyke!” Phlox screamed, shoving herself between Turrin and Sira. With hands outstretched in hopes of grabbing some part of the freak’s body, be it neck or shoulders, she leapt onto the man who was showing mercy to a single person and dooming the rest of them. ”I’m going to kill you! Do you know what you have done?!?!”

Speaking
Thinking
Ithuriel

[Sira]

"Aidara, come quick. I need," Sira started to call out across a bond that was no longer there, but stopped. No, Addy couldn't help her. Addy was gone. Focus, Sira, focus, she berated herself, hearing but not hearing Turrin's words and only vaguely registering what Phlox was doing.

And then she was back, shifting to Endal mode, and shoving the confusion and worry to the back of her mind. Her hand began to glow as Sira willed divine radiance into it, both to bolster her own spirits and give courage to all those around her who saw the light. Priskil's light brought more clarity and Sira realized what Phlox was doing and what exactly had happened and who had done it. She didn't know Brandon well, but she did know he was a friend of Drusilla and that he apparently could fight. That might be useful if they could get him on their side.

"Phlox, stop!

Sira ran over, doing her best to pull Phlox off the man's back before any real violence could begin between the two. Sira didn't know the fighting capabilities of either of them, and without her weapons she knew her own limitations. She didn't want a fight to break out an turn an already bad situation worse.

"Get control of yourself. You are an Endal!" If she managed to get Phlox off she would wedge herself between the two and try to deflect any attempts one might make to attack the other. "Don't kill him yet. We might need him."

Sira spun around, facing Brandon and the corpse. One look at the Reimancer and Sira knew he was dead. She also had an idea of why Brandon had done it, but she needed to know for sure.

"You are a friend of Drusilla and for that I give you the benefit of the doubt. But I need to know now, why did you kill that man? He might have been able to get us out of here."

[Turrin]

Turrin glanced over at Sira and saw that she was trying to restrain Phlox from Brandon Blackwing. He figured the bat would find himself in trouble sooner or later. At least, it wasn't him that had to deal with him. Unfortunately, he it was in his best interest to keep the father of Drusilla's baby alive for her sake. Thinking to himself, Petching bird shyke! Why do I always a clean up the Inarta's mess? Turrin knew the answer, and he knew the answer. Brandon might not understand the importance of the upper caste to the stability of the Inarta society. The endal's face softened when he saw some of the young teenage Inarta start to cry when panic started to fade that they could really grasp the dire situation everyone was in right now. Suddenly, Turrin got a idea reached out with his bond to Aponivi, Aponivi are you all right?

Suddenly, he heard Aponivi's response, Of course I am alright when the mountain started to shake, I dived out of the cave opening. Where are you?

Turrin ran a hand through his hair and looked around at the crowd who seemed to be chirping to themselves. Some of them already seemed to started to group together for social support, but he could tell there was a lot of people with minor wounds on their bodies. Some had worse injuries like broken bones or severe lacerations than there was some that will not live the night without medical attention. The half-breed let out a deep breath and responded, Right now. I am trapped in the Inclement Weather. I need you to tell Drusilla that Brandon and I are still alive. However, I want you to tell the Valintar our situation here...

Turrin waited for Aponivi response and finally after a minute said, I will tell the Valintar immediately, Turrin. Stay alive...

Looking at the crowd, Turrin stuck up his hand and said loudly, “Silence! Any employee from Weather here?”

The endal waited in silence as the crowd started to look around for the employees, and eventually three people one woman and two men walked forward to respond to the endal's request. The beautiful older woman walked forward, and she seemed to have a worried response on her face. Turrin could tell that she had someone on her mind, but he needed to ask, “What your name?”

The woman slowly looked at him and said in almost a daze, “My...name is Tessa. My partner was sick, so I volunteered to take his shift tonight..” Turrin could see the woman was concerned for her co-worker, so the half-breed waited to say something till she was ready to listen. Looking up at him, Tessa said, “I...wasn't suppose to be here tonight...”

Suddenly the two male employees swooped in to helped the distraught bartender. The one with the incredibly long hair said with a impish grin, “Tess is just worried about her Tom, but I can help you endal. The name is Akvin Kultra the drummer!” Point to his friend with the oddly styled hair, Akvin said with as much enthusiasm as when he introduced himself, “..and here is my best friend in all of Wind Reach, Lebanon.” The other man pounded his chest and said proudly, “I am the guitarist!”

If Turrin didn't just go through a life threatening event, he would have laugh out loud at the performers. He could tell they were professionals because they were taking the situation in stride. The endal said simply, “I need list of amount of food water. We have lot of people. Will need to ration.” Looking at Tessa, Turrin said simply, “Take Tessa. She need to do something to stay out of head. Also, I need two rooms for sanitation and one for body disposal...”

The two musicians just nodded to him slowly and asked simply, “Room for sanitation?”

Turrin said with a nod, “With a lot of people, you have a lot of shyke. Room keep shyke away from people than people no get sick. Understand?”

The drummer wrinkled his nose and said simply, “Gross man, but ya I understand...”

Turrin knew that he needed to address the crowd, so he stuck up his hand and said loudly, “I know everyone scared. I am scared too, but we need each other to survive.” Licking his lips, Turrin could tell that half were listening, but he rather have half than none, “We don't know. How long we are here, so I am rationing the food and water supplies.” Everyone started to chirp all at once, and Turrin face harden, so he yelled, “Shut your beaks now! If you want to live, rationing supplies only opinions..everyone including endal will get equal rations. No exceptions...”

Suddenly, the young Inarta male who was hitting on Sira and Phlox stepped forward. Turrin knew the young man was going to trouble since the myrian put him in his place earlier in the night. This petcher had arrogant look in his eye as he stepped forward to face the myrian barking orders at the group. Annoyed, Turrin blew a stray piece of hair from his face and said nothing as the man addressed him and the crowd, “I know you think you are now the Valintar, Myrian, but I don't think you have the best interest of the Inarta here. Everyone heard the rumors of your deeds during the riots, Turrin Aponivi of Twisted Vine. As I recalled you dined on the flesh of Dek during the chaos of the food riots. You might stand there with golden eyes of our people, but you are no Inarta. You are a savage and a cannibal from the jungles of Falyndar. Why should anyone trust a savage who parades himself as endal!” Turning to the crowd, the man said loudly, “When everything breaks down which one of you will be his first meal!”

Turrin listened to the man and could only cross his arms. A lot of terrible things happened in the riots, and the dek and chiet side were just as cruel as the endal and avora side. He killed and maimed a lot of Inarta during that season. Also he will not deny that he killed the dek and from his request sacrificed him to Myri. It was a better death than dying a slave. However, he figured the man was on opponent side during the riots, and now he has the perfect opportunity to stir up trouble in amidst of a crisis. Turrin knew that he needed to control his emotions if he wanted to lead this crowd. However, he first instinct was to take his head for such a insult. How dare he question his loyalty to Wind Reach! However, the riots did show that he was more Myrian than he was Inarta, and the dirty little secret he enjoyed spilling the blood of these red head humans. Turrin looked at the man and asked with no emotion in his voice, “If I could dig us out, I would dig, so we can all go. Trust me or not. I don't care. I am not afraid to die, but everyone in Weather has someone outside Weather. I mean to get everyone out, so they see their someone. This is not riots. However, I fought, bleed, and lost person I love in chaos. I am not afraid to fight for my survival in this chaos? Are you?”

Turrin's golden eyes locked with the green eyes of the man, and he could tell by the plainness of his clothing that he was probably a chiet. He was probably one of the poor sods trying to fight for their freedom during their riots and lost, “What your name, chiet?”

“Berial...”