Screamed Secrets

by **Ink** on December 1st, 2014, 8:05 am

Timestamp: 20th of Winter 514 AV
One bell before dawn...

Gug Andjak and the Courtyard
Deep below the citadel, in Master Tieh’s lab, the Pulser and Nuit apprentices had worked steadily through the night. Tieh’s careful watch brooked no mistake.Glyphs in silvered paint radiated out from a central diagram. It was a complex weaving of layer upon layer of defenses surrounding a voiding spell. A season back the Master had located a carcass of significant and unusual origin within the void, no attempts at small-scale sampling were successful. To sate curiosity she had planned a complete extraction. Three golems, plated in metal, stood ready to do the heavy lifting.

Then like a ripple in still water, it began at her command. The human sorceress drew upon the stored magics and directions, blooming the glyph maze into action. From the center a bruised indigo tear ripped open reality into the forever-endless frigid abyss.

There was a calm, the Pulsers exhaled…

The plan shattered in an instant. Figures rushed through from the Void.

Immediately protocols, buried in the walls and door of the lab initiated. The least complicated but most direly vital began as a tiny spark. This spark followed a previously invisible trail from the door of Lab 30-M, all the way up through the Gug Andjak. At forks it split into two, multiplying at each successive alternative. As the spark passed the peacekeeper golems stationed on the lower levels, they activated. Emergency defense protocols superseded all previous orders. Shields cast by the golems began to slam down on laboratories, locking each one on every floor. No Master’s chamber was spared. This began on the thirtieth floor and over the course of fifteen chimes reached to the first.

The spark did not stop with golems though. It spread throughout the Citadel, a tiny alarm taking every crack in the halls wherein the glyphs had been hidden. One tiny spark, the original from Tieh’s lab aimed straight at the courtyard. When finally it burst from the archway of the Gug Andjak it encountered the final symbol. An enormous array hidden beneath a flagstone. The granite sundered and the spark flourish into a fearsome flame ricocheting up into the pre-dawn sky. There the great red orb rivaled Zintilla’s charms in the night landscape, before it burst into the spark’s final form, a scarlet flare.

The Obsidian Cavern

Atziri ripped Keen from his bedroll. “Wake Up, we’ve been summoned.” Her voice was firm in contrast with her grin. Never before had she worn full battle regalia in front of her initiate. Two matching vambraces graced her arms, matching the studded leather armor coating her body as finely as a carapace suits a beetle. Overshadowing the armor were the gloves sheathing her deadly fists, these had been her gift from Master Silverheart. Spiked at the knuckles and traced in silver filigree matching her vambraces, there was no doubt then that the jolly Azenth was a warrior in her djed.

Dragging Keene as far as needed before he followed, the Warden of Mt. merlus took him down the third tunnel. The middle tunnel which Keene had been explicitly instructed not to search. Indeed it turned out the sculpted obsidian walls curved down and simply closed at the end of the tunnel.

Flame burned in her heart and on her knuckles. Cracks so miniscule they couldn’t be seen only detected by a skilled mage, littered this ‘dead-end’. It was all part of a plan, the contingency in case another siege came to Sahova’s doorstep. Her feet and shoulders squared, Atziri’s deceptively powerful frame lunged forward and punched a hole at this designed weaknesses fragmenting the wall and revealing the rocky extension of the path. heat bellowed back at them in a wave. Unaffected by fire’s ire the Azenth stepped forward taking her intiate down into the deep tunnels, the caverns that ran beneath Sahova. “The flare has appeared, Keene. An enemy steps foot on Sahova.” She growled with a grin.

The Courtyard And Quarters

The Nuit who had survived Drainira’s attack knew this day might come again. The nature of the adversary yet unseen, did not stop other minor threats from taking advantage. Even before the warning signal flew, Mistress Wanda had hobbled out amongst her ghastly patrons. Some of the ghosts were mad, some were heavy in dispair, but most were still cognizant enough to take an advantage when offered. Dozens of uncoordinated spectral attacks flew against Wanda’s barriers. Though the Spiritist played the part of the resolute sentinel, she could not contain the wails. Screaming erupted and reverberated down corridors, the Quarters were hit especially hard by the anguished cacophony. Golems were already beginning to move down these halls too, sealing more in for their safety or for their doom.

ooc :

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by **Keene Ward** on December 1st, 2014, 9:20 am

As Keene woke, he was surprised to see the flickering light cast on the ceiling to be shaking furiously. For a moment, he wondered if the cause was some sort of seismic activity before his head lolled to the side at the grinning visage of his master stared down at him with an fiery excitement in her eyes. His sleep filled eyes trailing down from her head to her shoulders and finally to her hands, realizing the shaking was not the world but her force upon his body. His blinking grew more rapid as his brain came to life, thoughts bursting through the fog of grogginess until he was up and alert. Immediately, he pulled away, the sensation of her gloved grip against his skin unpleasant - even more so in his current state of half-sleeping confusion. He pressed his back against the warm obsidian wall, his grey eyes blinking frantically while he gathered his bearings. "S-summoned?" As his ability to fully perceive what all the information was that was flooding in through his eyes, Keene realized Atziri was wearing a set of armor he'd never seen before. It was slim, chic, and only served to make his igneous master seem all the more compelling as both a reimancer and a warrior.

He glanced down at his own state of undress, trying to remember where he'd left his clothes with his addled mind that was gradually gaining speed. Spotting them it the corner, Keene hopped from his cot, hastily padding across the floor as he picked up his leather pants, wiggling into them before tying the waist in a comfortable knot. Slipping his socks on, then his boots, he slowed a bit to properly tie them. If Atziri was in battle regalia, he figured the least he could do was to make sure the strings of his footware weren't going to come loose and potentially be the end of him in a fight - which she seemed to think there would be from the glimmer in her steely eyes. Once that was done, Keene glanced around for a shirt, slipping on one of the low cut tunics, wrapping a belt around his hips over it to tie it down. Finally, he grabbed his vambrace from one of the many protrusions that lined the back of the chambers wall, shoving it over his left hand as he tightened the straps. Once it was secure, he nodded at Atziri.

He had no armor, nor any sort of defensive or offense weapons to take with him. His djed was his weapon and (to an extent) his armor. While he didn't pose nearly the battle ready prowess his master did, Keene was a competent reimancer who was much stronger than his wiry frame and sleepy visage implied. Once he was ready, he fell close into step behind his master, the small flame that floated above her hand illuminating the murky darkness of their mountainous home. He considered asking where they were going, but the way Atziri moved with such purpose and direction, he thought it best to keep his mouth shut for the time being. Instead of heading out of the cave towards the citadel as he had assumed they would, Aziri made a sharp turn towards the middle tunnel, the one she had explicitly told him to avoid. He'd done so with little more than a second thought, but as they passed under the arch to the tunnel, a plethora of questions flooded his brain. He was still too out of sorts to make any sense of them, and by the time they arrived at the dead end, he could only stare blankly at the smooth, obsidian wall, uncomprehending.

In a half beat, Atziri had lunged forward, flames bursting from the strange gloves that adorned her hands as she slammed her fists into the solid looking rock. A blast of burning wind shot through the tunnel, startling Keene as he staggered back a few paces and guarded his face with his hands. Atziri, however, was unaffected, turning round to give him a wild, hungry looking grin. The flickering light of the flame that still burned a few inches above her hand gave him a slight shiver that ran down his spine in spite of the increased heat from the newly opened tunnel. "The flare has appeared, Keene. An enemy steps foot on Sahova." Her eyes flashed, and for a moment Keene found himself awed by the sheer brilliance of her persona. She turned, releasing him from the spell and leaving him with a clearer, better functioning mind. He doubted it had been some magic that had finalized his awakening, but it certainly felt as though she had infused him with a small portion of her own, burning emotions. His brain still tingled from the shared stare, but he had little time to think much on it. He hurried after her as they delved deeper into the caves, master and initiate.

by **Fallon** on December 1st, 2014, 4:52 pm

It was the old habit that rose once more in Fallon, the low humming sound that reverberated up her voice and filled the silence of the Quarters. A pitched noise that seemed to creep so slowly out of the stone walls, the coffin that made up the citadel, and echo down the corridor in an almost mournful noise. Occasionally there would be a break in it, the rising up in pitch with the change of note, the eyes staring across to the cold stone wall that made up the broom closet of a room. Beneath her was the bedroll, though that was largely discarded during the night when the mind finally gave up on trying to seek rest. And so, it had been for the last few bells that Fallon sat in silence, the flickering of the candle light allowing her to read the scrawled notes of her journal. It cast it's twisting shapes and shadows throughout the room, painting orche onto the walls and giving that temporary illusion of warmth and safety.

Fallon knew that was far from the truth in Sahova. Red coat hugged her form, the bare digits stroking the blackened ink - past notes, references of the citadel from a year ago. How time flew on past and brought her back around in a full circle. It made her wonder just what events would fall upon her on this occasion. For something always happened in Sahova.

There was a pause, her chin lifting as she listened. Her humming silenced, ears straining as she heard the weak, muffled noise. A cry, a shout of anguish that travelled upon the night winds, barely a crackle before it was smothered once more. Silence returned to the quarters, but it was for more than a breath that Fallon sat their waiting, checking almost. A click, the gentle scratching of noise and then a distinct absence of it - unnervingly so. It was the leader of the Scars that then straightened, book slowly closing shut. It came again, louder than a whisper this time, and grew in size. It was more than just a stray cry, it was a chorus of noise that shook and trembled the air. Taking a stand in the cupboard space, she gently slid the journal into its designated right pocket and continued to listen. Above she could hear the whirling of the golems, louder and rushing in nature, the low clunk that travelled with their urgent moves. Something, Fallon decided finally at that point, was not right.

Gloves and gauntlets were snatched in one hand, barely the slapping of studded leathers over her shoulders - she was not about to wait within this tiny room for an answer. All the while the screams grew louder, forcing the senses to blur with terror and the lust of battle. The weapons belt came shortly after, ears straining as she tried to listen past the immediate noise for a clearer clue as to what was going on. Of course before any true move was to be made she would have to grab the other Scars members from their adjacent rooms.

It was with a firm swinging out of the door, clattering as she marched. Her throat cleared, a deep inhale as she brought forth the persona of Bitzer, and summoned out a more tactical thinking mind. Information, that was what she needed first however - her mind fired off, the sound of danger growing more definate with each passing tick. Fist hammered on the door, her own voice raising up in an attempt to outshout whatever the racket was.

"Scars!" The tone rung authority, firm as she moved on to hammer upon the next, "Petching Gods... Get up! Look alive and arm yourselves! No time to waste! On me!" The phrase all hands on deck would have been appropriate here, this was an emergency that sent only her skin prickling and her blood boiling. Her jaw tightened when she saw one of the golems turn and begin trundling down the corridor, a curse hissing out between her teeth. Another firm knock against the door, harder, louder as she pulled upon what little she did know of the place. Was this related to what was wanted of her? Or was there something else? She reached around as she quickened her step away, hands jerking at the leather straps of her armour as she kitted up. Sahova, nothing but trouble she concluded as she gave the reassuring pats to her weaponry. There was barely a glance back to see if the others were following, her brow furrowed and her eyes burning before she made her way towards the stair well. It sounded as if it was coming from the courtyard - and thus that would be her first point of calling, "Come on, to the courtyard."

by **Pulren Marsh** on December 2nd, 2014, 7:16 pm

Looking around the Quarters, Pulren wondered how many people had been in the small spaces before. Leaned back into the corner with the pack as his support, he sat with his shield against his hip and his trident moving against the stony floor. The trident's tines became sharper as they were moved in strokes, the furs he had brought under him and over him to feign comfort. It was clear, however, that the entire island was not made for comfort. Moments of sleep would be few and far between, that was clear enough.

Then with the sounds. Clanking and humming, whirring in rhythms he had not heard thus far. It didn't take a high intelligence to understand that something was going on. Stretching and rolling his neck, he started sliding his studded leather on, fixing himself up with boots and belts, fastening straps and affixing scabbards. His straight razor slid into his boot and his kukri came along, though it was mostly for show. When the word "Scars" rung out, it was no real surprise. he was glad to be one to answer the call, however.

The Wolf had given orders and the instinct in the Guard's blood and bones that made him move when ordered put him on point. The door of his small bunkroom swung open and into the fray he went. Bitzer was already moving toward the courtyard and Pulren started following her, spinning the trident's shaft in his hand and bouncing the shield. It felt like war.

He liked it.

by **Noven** on December 3rd, 2014, 2:28 am

Noven was already rolling out of bed and into his boots when the thunderous summons came. Bitzer's voice exploded loud and clear from the other side of the paper thin door, her knuckles rapping against wood with urgent fury.

The room was dim, but fortunately sparse as well. Less chance of tripping or knocking into something with sleep still fuzzing his mind. Not to mention, as always, Nov had little to prepare in terms of gear. Just his belt, Tamos, and a quick button up of his wool coat. He'd slept in it all night and kept his gloves on as well, not trusting the secret of his mark to be bared on such foreign and eerie soil.

For a moment, the cook thought he was back in Sunberth, witnessing the tumultuous events leading up to a giant rend forming where Robern's mansion once stood. But that was another time, another place. Though the noises he heard this go around were no less foreboding.

He barely had time to think, let alone register what shyke mess was going on outside. As far as he was concerned, Nov had only one job and one job only: to get to Wolf Girl--Why? Because she said so--and figure out the details along the way. If he and his fellow Scar didn't, they could be dead in a matter of ticks for all they knew. Or worse. Keep things simple, finish the job, and worry about everything else later, was usually how he preferred to handle mystery emergencies.

Less than a dozen ticks later Nov burst through his door, still fumbling with the last button on his coat while twisting around to lock the latch at the same time.

"Wha--"

That was all he managed before Wolf Girl marched off and directed them to the courtyard. Nov stood there for a moment, feeling the remnants of sleep falling away one layer at a time as he struggled to figure out what the hell was going on. Then he saw Pulren, the other Scar present, take off after Bitzer and hurried after them both, details be damned.

The three of them rushed headlong down the stairwell, passing what Noven learned during his first few days on the island were golems. If it weren't for their current state of urgency, he would've flinched in instinctive self-defense, as he had so many times during their brief but eventful stay. The things were petching strange and set the tiny hairs on the back of Nov's neck standing on end, as most magical things were won't to do.

And, the cook mused, it appeared their stay was about to become much, much more eventful.

When they finally reached the courtyard, Noven looked up and his jaw dropped straight to the ground. He mistook the sight at first as Syna herself. But it was only a matter of ticks before he realized his mistake. This light was too crimson and the sky still too dark in pre-dawn hues for it to be the Goddess of Light. No, this was something else entirely...

Then the great orb exploded into a giant, red flare. And that was when Nov realized this entire fanfare had been an alarm. One vast and efficient enough to get the whole citadel alerted and on lock down. Whatever had just set it off must be bad in ways he couldn't even imagine.

Krysus. Why couldn't things ever go smooth?

by **Nal'reim Qyan** on December 4th, 2014, 3:28 am

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Testing Ground - Prairie
A Chime and a Half Before Dawn.

Nal’reim, a summoner of the ARMED project, walked through the prairie section of the testing ground for his daily summoning ritual to the world known as Zaiden, home of the Diverse. The Diverse are a race of of barbaric creatures that lack intelligence and higher mental capacity, but their ferocity and savageness is unmatched by any being on his own world. The wizard has worked with a few different Diverse over the years. But each one that he had actually made a partnership with had either died if old age or by fighting on Zaiden or on Mizahar during an experiment or protecting Nal’reim himself from harm. Now it is time to find another diverse to work with for however long they should last this time. With a reward of steel weapons, armor, and other such items as payment for the creature's continued service, one would think that it would be simple to find the ‘right’ diverse. But the platinum haired nuit was picky to the creature that served him. There is a mental check list to which the summoner goes through with each diverse that comes through the portal. If they do not fit the bill, they are pulled back into Zaiden and another comes through. Which is the problem that the nuit was facing. Every Diverse that had come through, had not fit the requirements of their summoner. And each one was pulled back through the portal. Nal’reim had been hard at work for a little over ten days searching for the right servant. As the nuit walked through the familiar territory to his summoning location that he had been using for many years now, for creatures that the mage didn’t want to see his laboratory in the citadel he had one thought ‘maybe today is the day’.

Arriving at his summoning site the nuit set down his leather satchel that contained his tools and offers to the diverse. Taking each of the items and laying them in order on the wooden table, which was also set up at his summoning site for the work he performs in service to the project. Taking out a brush, the summoner begins to clean away any dirt and small debris from the wooden platform that was layed some time ago, roughly the same time the table was brought out. With the dirt, chalk, and other remnants of yesterdays summoning removed from the platform. The summoner took his next tool, a simple piece of chalk and began the process of drawing the inner circle. In a single stroke, that the nuit had gotten down over the years, the inner circle was created. Careful as ever the pale man worked in the details that made this particular circle what summoners refer to as a focused circle. That is a circle which was designed to open portals in certain locations on the world in question. Using this circle allowed Nal’reim to open portal in different locations each time he summoned, hopefully allowing him to get the greatest coverage of potential servants. Drawing single straight lines that meet at a point, then a another two lines that meet at a point, and then a single line that connected the two points. Adding the second to last remaining detail, two circle encircling the points to help focus the portal to the location it needed to go. Finishing the inner details, the wizard drew the outer ring of the summoning circle with another single stroke. The last detail was the address to the planet in question. With the now smaller piece of chalk the nuit added ‘1069002583582104’ between the two circles. Leaning back, the nuit checked over his work. Finding it complete and correct in detail the mage began the second step of the the project.

Drawing a second smaller dual circle around the summoning area. These circles were created using small runes creating the barrier component of a glyph that Nal’reim had designed to help protect himself from any creature that could harm him if they were to break the leash. Within the barriers complete, Nal then added the second part of the defense glyph, the focus. A continuous line of swirling circles within glyphs. This second part of the glyph is what would store the spell that, if needed, would defend the caster. The third and last part of the glyph was the trigger, the part of the glyph that would activate the spell. To the right of the circle it was added, a series of runes that would activate the overall glyph when the word ‘Koradat’, Nader-Canoch for the circle is complete, is spoken.

Standing up, the mage dusted off his robes and put his tools back on the table and returned to the circles. Closing his eyes, the reimancer began to push his res from his chest down his arms and out of his body through his fingertips and letting it pool at the tips of his fingers. Pushing the res away from him and over top the glyph circle. Expanding the res circle into a thin curtain running from the ground and going about three and a half feet in the air. With a single thought the pyromancer lit the outer layer of res ablaze. With another thought and a downward motion with his hand the mage force the firewall down into the glyph releasing his hold and letting the fire consume the res as the glyph absorbed the fire wall. Leaning over and catching himself on the table next to him. A feeling of weakness over came him, along with the customary headache that always seemed to follow a large burst of elemental magic. Gathering his strength over the next few bells, the summoner went over his mental notes.

As the summoner walked over to start the ritual, he poked the top section of his forefinger on his left hand with a needle. It drew a small amount of ichor but enough to activate the portal. Beinding over and wiping the ichor on the circle, a portal formed in the style of, the now familiar, swirling vortex. Just a few moments after the vortex appear, a sudden bright red light flashed into the air. This flare or whatever you would call it remained in the air for sometime. As Nal’reim was about to shrug it off and continue his project, he noticed a gazelle followed closely by a hound dog heading towards the citadel. ‘Wardens!’ was the wizard's first thought. Knowing that for multiple wardens to abandon their post in the testing ground there would need to be something going on that was either very important or very dangerous. Most likely both if Nal'reim was truthful with himself. Wanting to find out what was so important that wardens were abandoning their post, Nal’reim Qyan headed toward the citadel. With a thought the summoner closed the portal and followed the wardens.

by **Verin Rush** on December 5th, 2014, 9:05 pm

No longer working late into the night at a tavern, Verin had discovered that he was predisposed to be an early riser, and he found himself up before dawn every day since he had arrived on the island of the dead. The twentieth day of the season was no different from the ones before. In the dim light filtering gently through his window, Verin moved around his small, stone quarters in silence, searching through his chest for a pair of boots, which he quickly pulled on and secured, having slept in his slacks. Glancing up, pale eyes gazed out of the window, where he saw the beginnings of Syna's rays breaking through the dark horizon.

It was another thing that he had rarely been awake to see, and he found the scenery of Sahova... darkly beautiful, much like his own home city. To his right lay the sleeping form of a slave, his slave. Today, she could be left to her own devices, Verin thought. She had a job to go to, something to fill in the boredom of each dragging day. Yes, her money came to him, so he was not for want of economics, but a part of him was loathe to be reliant on the girl, even if he had the right to use her in such a fashion. As his guide, Darin, had informed him, however, he would not be eligible to apply for the job his God wanted him to until the fortieth day of the season.

The sound of disturbance in the citadel was what tore Verin's gaze away from the horizon. The scream that forced its way along the stone corridors and under each door was followed by another, and another. Screams of terror, of pain, or of shock, Verin could not differentiate the nature of the sounds which had no doubt woken the entire citadel. The slave stirred from the floor beside him, but the blond Ravokian ignored her, intent on the door. If the slave spoke, Verin did not answer; he didn't hear, as he waited for the caterwauling to finally stop. It did not.

Barely heard above the blood-curdling screams, the much closer pounding of feet in the corridor encouraged Verin to step forward and unlatch the door, pulling it open. Poking his head out, he watched the dark forms of a trio of apparently armed individuals rush past, clearly following the assumed origin of the screams. The three, who were each moving with a speed that indicated to Verin that they were human, were purposeful in their long strides. Did they know what was happening? New to the island, the Black Sun initiate was not truly versed in the ways of the island, yet he could not imagine that this was normal.

"Do not leave this room, Redd." He did not look away from the receding figures as he barked his order at the wolf Kelvic, nor did it occur to him that he should reach for a shirt, and he abandoned the room half clothed, without any weaponry to protect or defend himself from what he might be facing. Before the three figures disappeared entirely from his view, he took off after them, using sight and ears to trace the source of the screams. Grateful for long legs, his strides reached a decent distance. Yet, not as healthy as some, the exertions became apparent after inly a few chimes. As he followed the armed trio through the corridors and down staircases, his breathing became more and more hitched, and his thighs began to ache in protest.

Before long, he realised where they were - nearing the Courtyard. The screams had steading been growing louder and louder, Verin even started to scrunch his nose in a convoluted effort to block his ears as his arms swung, pumping his body forward. As his lungs began to burn a little, and the blood rushed to his head, he could feel his heart pumping in his jawline. A dull glow came into sight, from where Verin knew the Courtyard to be. The red-orange hue loomed ominously, and grew brighter as the four continued down the corridor. The blond's pace slowed ever so slightly; a momentary hesitation, and then he spurred on, entering the Courtyard half a chime later.

by **Redd** on December 7th, 2014, 7:46 am

The wind drifted through the green leaves above, played with them. Their familiar game was music to her ears, for it was a sound that she loved to hear, to enjoy. It calmed her thoughts and the emotions that seemed to roll and boil within as she felt the loneliness continue to pierce her aching heart. She wanted to connect to, find someone that wanted her; that accepted her for everything that she was, human and wolf. Two entities blended into one form to create one mind. The gentle wind picked up again as the blue sky above began to darken while the soft white clouds began to pull together and darken in colour. She had seen this before and knew that it was about to snow… Or rain, whichever the two and she pulled herself up to stand on all four paws as her muzzle lifted so then her single golden hue could view the sky above.

Her ear flickered back then as she caught the sound of a twig snapping from behind and she quickly turned away. She lowered her head slightly before angling it to the right so then she could peer out of her left eye. There she saw some dark figures and she couldn’t help but take a couple of steps backwards as the wind blew through her coat, ruffling it as her gaze caught sight of the group of figures emerging from their darkened embrace. First came her mother, the familiar red curls and those hazel eyes reflected back at her, but those eyes held no kindness, only rejection. Next came the pack of wolves as they slinked out of their shadowy embrace, hatred filling their golden orbs. After that, Elias and Miro where next and she couldn’t help but shiver as she took a few more steps backwards while they began to advance upon her, their lips moving but she couldn’t hear the sound of their voices. Finally, out of the darkness came the last figure, with his blue eyes, blonde hair and that familiar smirk. The young wolf had to remind herself even now that this was Venser and not Verin as finally she heard what they were saying, a scream following close behind in the distance.

‘There is no such thing as home…’

-------------

Redd startled awake, her form jerking upright as her sitting form that was resting against one of the four walls of the room, suddenly straightened upright. Her single hazel hue opened to view the room, taking in the walls that was now where Verin lived for the time being. Did she dare to even consider it a room for her as well? No, for she was afraid that it would soon be ripped away from her, that everything would change again and she knew that unless she full on attacked the one that held her leash, nothing would change. However, she had to consider the risks that involved attacking the one that held her leash. The young wolf could have done it while they were out in the wilderness, but she didn’t for she hoped that Verin would eventually lead her to Venser of whom she wished to kill. Slowly, her single gaze moved to view the man as she realized that there was an actual scream that reached her ears. For she had thought that is was the after-effects of the nightmare that she continued to have, even though the events changed constantly. These were the dreams that she did not have control over; she couldn’t change the outcome, for it always reminded her that there was no such thing as home for her.

It was then that she caught the sound of boots coming from the corridor that passed right outside Verin’s room and slowly she moved to stand up, her gaze shifting to Verin once again as he poked his head out of the door. It was then that he told her to not leave the room and a growl found its way upon her lips as he abandoned the room half clothed. If there were screams, it meant someone was in pain and half the time that meant that there was danger. She was not leaving Verin to defend for himself, for if he died she would probably be stuck within Sahova and while she didn’t exactly like Ravok, she liked Sahova much less. So, the moment that he disappeared out the door she pulled her clothes off, shivering at the cold before she darted out the door, making sure to close it as a pale red light surrounded her form. The kelvic borrowed her wolf form and as the light faded, it revealed her wolf form. She stood on all four paws, her brindled red fur covering her form, except upon the back of her left paw. Instead of red, a black half black sun was there.

The young wolf shook her fur out as she launched forwards into a jog, her single golden hue attempting to spot her master as her nose scented out his scent. She no longer could follow his scent at the jog and so had to slow her pace so then she could sift through the fresh scents. It was strange really, the fresh scents that she could smell, along with Verin’s seemed to be going in the same direction. It unsettled her to a degree, for if the owners to these scents might mean to harm someone and if they were the source of the screams, then that meant that Verin might very well be running into danger. A growl rumbled from deep within as she pressed her ears back against her head as she navigated her way through the building, occasionally her right shoulder would brush against a wall which helped her to correct her course and drift towards the left. Having lost her right eye made things difficult, but she was getting better at it, although walking in quiet areas didn’t really help.

As she neared what she remembered to be the direction towards the court yard, the screams grew louder and she shook her head a little in an attempt to shake the sound, but it remained and another growl rumbled forth. Verin’s scent began to grow fresher and she padded forth, worry pushed her forwards for she dreaded what the source of the screams were. Why did he chased after it? She silently questioned as a dull glow came into sight which made her pace picked up into a jog. The red-orange light made her fear that there may be a fire of some kind and her concerns were correct as the scent of smoke reached her and assaulted her senses. The scent of smoke only grew stronger as she drew closer towards the courtyard until finally she did enter the courtyard. There, she finally spotted Verin, alive… For the moment. Relief swamped through her, but she was still aware of the fire that burned brightly and she padded straight up to Verin, a low growl warning him of the danger of the fire. She pressed her right side to Verin's leg while she lowered her head, her gaze focused upon the glow of the fire. It was then that she noticed the other people and only one thought crossed her mind.

Friend or foe?

by **Ink** on December 7th, 2014, 11:03 pm

The Caverns

Atziri set a steady stream of res aflame near their feet, lighting the otherwise pitch black cavern. Every so often a branch twisted away from their path, but the Warden never seemed unsure. They walked down hill for a number of chimes, when suddenly the tunnel flattened. Then she set their pace, at a jog. Whenever Keene flattered her hand was there to steady him, drag him forward. They pulled this hard pace for a solid ten chimes, having reacted immediately to the flare the Warden and her intiate still spared no further time. She knew the pace would be grueling for the boy, but sometimes the best way to teach a body was to push it further than it knew it could go. Running was one such skill.

When she finally brought them to a stop, it seemed utterly arbitrary at a cursory glance. As Atziri’s flames flicked though they illuinated a chalk X marked on the wall to their right. Her chest rose and fell in measured beat, a part of training. Her gaze lifted upwards, at first like the walls it appeared normal, until in the stone and dirt hide a rectangular outline. As they had run the tunnel had very slowly shrunk, now it was no more than six and a half feet in height but equally as wide. Atziri pushed the flats of her gloved palms against the shape, causing it to lift up and away. Moonlight and wails flooded the black tunnel. A spectral hand reached down to give them a lift up and back to the surface.

The Courtyard
Wanda stood hunched and pale in at the center of the courtyard. She looked no more rushed than ever before, no less in control. In truth the screams were already decreasing in volume and quantity within a only a few chimes. Those who observed the materialized ghosts, would see that several were jerked and pulled away from the barrier by unseen forces. Every so often the creatures subduing the ghosts would themselves flicker into existence, specters themselves.

When finally the ghostly attack subsided in full, the expected silence of Sahova did not resume. Instead it was superseded by the heavy beats of enormous wings. Flying in a wide arch from beyond the Gug Andjak, a raptor of gargantuan portion angled its descent. From a distance it might have been a natural fowl, but as she drew closer the missing feathers and bald face and beak gave away the Nuit morpher. Clutched in her talons were two humans, a man and a woman. Swooping low into the courtyard the great bird released her clutch and both humans fell the remaining ten feet to the ground. The woman landed with bent knees, the man with less grace but mostly unharmed. The morpher didn’t stop her descent but indeed her shape slipped and slid, pulling inward upon itself and reforming before she hit the ground. Her legs bent at unnatural angles and her feet elongated, not unlike a rabbit’s to take the impact of her landing. As she stood straight her body congealed back into the form of a relatively normal human, except for that undead bit.

Wayza strode naked and unashamed back through the the growing group of people. Some were visitors, many were Warden initiates. As the first Councilor on the scene and indeed the only Master among them, she took immediate charge. “Mistress Wanda, has an enemy been sighted?”

The hag shooked her hand, her voice reminiscent of the crackle of dead leaves, and answered “None yet, Wayza.”

Wayza nodded and stood just before the threshold of the Gug Andjak. “We need information…” As she spoke, to no one in particular, the last of the initiates who would arrive did. A gazelle dashed through the vestibule nimble and quick bouncing amongst the headstones and tombs to stand beside Keene, Lorelei, and Derain. Behind it lopped a hound dog, his jowls slapping against his face. The brown furred creature’s paws clicked against the flagstones, as he came to stand beside Verin and Redd.

“Wanda can you send in a ghost, we need to--” The alabaster morpher was cut off as the Gug Andjak doors slammed open. Out stepped a contemplative looking nuit, who walked with a fluidity rarely seen in Nuit but often seen in daydreamers. Dressed in a robe ranging all shades of grey the Nuit looked at Wayza and nodded absently. Wayza took a step back, taking the secondary role immediately.

Behind the greyscale Nuit strode a man who seemed more decayed than together. He walked with confidence and surety, the kind that came from madness. Too bad for Pulsers that madness was subjective, and Qiao’s version of madness framed the current Sahova social climate. Stepping up beside Wayza, the leader of the citadel stared down at the courtyard and those arrayed there. “The Citadel has come under attack. Farke informs me it was a litter of wailers.”

Farke, the nuit in greys, had already passed nonchalantly beyond the other two councilors and into the crowd. He was peering at each person individually, speculatively. Staring down each and every individual. At Noven, his dead eyes wandered over the cook and nodded without meeting the human’s gaze. To Fallon, he cracked a gentle smile and winked. He circled once in his meander way, while Qiao continued speaking.

“The Gug Andjak has been sealed into compartments. Its not yet clear which labs were infiltrated and which are untouched. Systemically they must be cleansed.” Qiao watched over the crowd just as surely as Farke did, he was looking for weaknesses though; for reactions that didn’t match his ideal situation. “You have all just been conscripted. You will be amply rewarded if successful. If you fail, well… your corpse will make a fine vessel.”

Farke paused at Verin and Redd, he did not look at the wolf at all but took great care as he took stalk of the Ravokian man. Finally the Councillor seemed appeased and stopped amid the crowd. “Three parties will be required. We have evidence that there are at least three wailers loose within the Gug Andjak, although one may have escaped into the caverns. They came through a void portal that remains open. One team will be tasked with locating Councilor Aelobius, ascertaining he is not a wailer, and taking him into Tieh’s lab to close it. Three more will be hunting wailers within the labs.”

Astral hands began resting on shoulder slowly guiding them to stand apart from one another and then regroup them. “Mistress Redwulf, you will take the Mt. Merlus warden initiate and your human with his trident down into the caverns in order to reach the lowest labs that pose the greatest security risk.” The three had been maneuvered together. For Fallon the touch of a projectionist was especially reminiscent of of her examination of the letter summoning the Scars to the island. “Swordsman,” He nodded at Noven, “You will be escorted by the Bloodhills initiates and begin your search on the top floors of the Gug Andjak.”

Turning to the remaining five who had not be pulled apart into groups, Farke drew in a breath. “Verin Rush, the wolf Redd and Mage Nal’riem will be under the protection of the Prairie warden initiates, your search will begin on the ground floor and climb the tower.” Farke pulled the Master’s ring from his hand and held it out for Verin to take.

Qiao stepped down among the crowd and provided two further rings. His own he placed in Derain’s hand. “Pulser, if you abuse that symbol you will beg for mercy like no soul has since the empire fell.” Then moved on to Fallon, Keene and Pulren. He provided one additional ring, “This is Aelobius’s ring, he has a tendency to leave it behind for reasons of his own.” There was a secret unspoken there, but Qiao made no further mention. The final ring fell into Keene’s palm.

Farke heaved a fully unnecessary sigh, “These rings are special, only councilors possess rings capable of bypassing the emergency defense protocol shields. Show great care in their use, for they could as easily betray you as assist you.” With that the three councilors drew into a circle, Qiao clearly led the hushed conversation that entailed. For all that the roles of the onlookers had been dictated, they had failed to mention the plan for actually closing the portal. No, the offensive against the wailers was but a first step. Their minds moved like a Commander’s, they were no doubt planning four steps beyond this initial moment.

Atziri turned to Keene, and as a result Fallon and Pulren. “I must return to the mountain if there are intelligent creatures lose on Sahova. You will be alone in this, look for the white X’s they will denote exits from the caverns where I have traveled them.” The fiery woman turned on her heel and headed back down into the unearthed grave from whence the pair had emerged.

by **Derain Roas** on December 7th, 2014, 11:49 pm

It was early, far earlier then it should have been for the young wizard to be awoken. But the swift fist to his side caused him to stir from the hammock he slept in. The blurred vision slowly vanishing in the flashing red light that filled their cave home. He sat up to see Lorelei dawning her own set of leather armor and quickly moved to gather his own. He knew what the flare meant, the flashing red in the cave, Eli had told them time and time again that if it were to ever be fired. They would move to assist unless told other wise. Nether of the initiates had an argument with it. Once he was ready he turned towards Lorelei, ready to run with her to the courtyard.

But in front of him Lorelei stood next to Wayza. A nuit council member who lived in the Bloodhills, a morpher of great power that commanded respect without a single word. A small smirk spread across Derains face as he moved closer to her and was then scooped up by Wayza and flown on massive wings to the courtyard. No words were exchanged between Lorelei and Derain, they were ready to receive their orders and go to work. Once the courtyard drew closer, Derain's smile widened. He was ready and excited for the chance to do something more thrilling then walk the Bloodhills and rid the place of failed experiments. He finally had a chance to defend his home, like he believed the Wardens were intended to do.

Once dropped, Derain hit the ground landing on one knee. He shook off the pain from the not so graceful landing and stood up. Looking at the people who had gathered. His eyes tracing over every single one of them noticing three standing close to each other, a nuit, then a man and his wolf. His eye brow raised at the group of three, a female, a man with a trident and another man. Then over to the Mountain Warden who he had met earlier in the season. One Keene Ward, his gaze locked on him as he noticed that the man looked a lot more like a Warden when he was not coated in soot and singed from head to toe. It was when Wayza spoke did he turn to face her. The Prairie Wardens slipping in to join them. He stood close to Lorelei. He nodded slightly to himself as he agreed with Wayza's notion of gathering information, though the Warden had been focused on strengthening himself in order to best fill the role of the Warden he one day hoped to become, he knew that information about a target was a good way to not get oneself killed.

When Qiao emerged he stood in a straight stance of attention. Qiao was strong and just be seeing Wayza step back from her leadership role he could tell that he was one to be respected. His eyes watched Farke as he slipped into the crowd to survey them all. "Wailers" he heard Lorelei mumble quietly. Derain had heard the name before, but he was not sure where from. Rather it was from the tomes inside of the Citadel or from Eli. They had to be dangerous for the Citadel to lock down like it had.

He stood still and listened, he was ready for the chance to prove himself worthy of being an initate to the Bloodhills Warden and that he was not just filling the spot behind Lorelei. He had his own plans and goals, having come to the island from his safer home in Zeltiva was not enough to him. He did not believe that he had pushed himself far enough.

He listened as Farke went about listing off the groups. First the mountain warden and someone named Mistress Redwulf. He could only assume that it was the female that had stood next to the other two. Then his group, he and Lorelei would escort the third human that stood with the girl. They would head to the top floors and search for any wailers or other threats that may be present. A smirk spread across his face. Not only did he get the chance to prove himself along side Lorelei, he even got to see what the outsider was made of. A different looking man then he had seen on the rock known as Sahova or even in Zeltiva. He nodded to Lorelei and then looked towards Noven.

He and Lorelei walked towards Noven, guided by the astral hands. Derain walked closely beside her, passing by Keene in his wake. The two quickly looked over Noven and then Lorelei moved to speak. "I am Lorelei, one of the Bloodhill initiates. This is Derain." she said nodding towards him. "And you are? Besides a swordsman." she asked, her words coated in the honey.

His eyes followed Qiao as he stepped towards him and placed his ring in his hand. Derain nodded, even at being called a Pulser. It was just more fuel to the man who had more then enough confidence in himself and his partner. A slight tick of curiosity over took him as he turned the ring over in his hand before looking towards his partner. He was sure that Lorelei would have been picked for any stance of power rather then himself. He slipped off the leather gauntlet on his hand then slid the ring on his finger before covering it again, making sure that it stayed safe.

Quest Screamed Secrets