Thrown Into The Snow

Talethal stopped playing as he observed what happened to their new "companion". He felt his hand inch towards his throat.

No, it couldn't be

He looked around the camp, everybody here was evidently a master in some form of fighting, whether it be through brute strength and skill like the Tin Man, or speed like fangs, ranged weapons like the elf, or mancer powers like himself. And already he had seen the Tin Man come to blows with the dwarf and the blood sucker, and yet, Cassuner and the girl remained calm, like they had everything in control, like they had no reason to fear anybody attacking them in rage.

Fear gripping his body, he ripped a small dagger from where it was hidden in his cloak. He breathed on the blade and then rubbed it till it shone in the pale light. Holding the shaking blade up to his throat, he angled the blade until he could see what he feared he would find in its reflection.

And then, all the fear disappeared, no, transformed into a seething mass of hate and anger. With the few last bits of self control he could manage, he placed his lute on the ground, behind the tree. And then he let it all go.

"So, you think to enslave us do you, to enslave me" He said rising from the ground "To use me as a tool to some end"

He took a step forward, he had not raised his voice, and the smile still lingered on his face, but it no longer reached his eyes, his eyes which where the color of a sea in storm, the color constantly moving with little flashes of yellow light to be seen.

"You could not wait to see if we would help, not a person here has turned you down, I vouched for you, knowing nothing of you, because you seemed like decent people. And you tried to subvert that we where slaves, that you marked us with some form of magic in our sleep." He said pointing at his neck.

He was seething now, the smile all but gone, in its place was rage incarnate.

"No, my kind had to be hunted down to extinction because they would not bow, not to a god, not to no mortal, no king, queen, lord or lady, and I will not bow to a drugged up pyromancer and his wolf tailed slut!

And with that he sent all the rage hurling forward...and nothing happened. Trying again he got the same effect. With one last attempt straining himself, a small breeze wafted through the trees, barely shaking a leaf.

"What have you done to me!"

At Talethal's scream, Adrian flinched. "Please try not to scream; My ears are incredibly sensitive, you know."

Curiously, Adrian made a swift motion with his hand at the ground; Nothing happened. He must have the Mark, too..

"Hmm.. I hope you have a solution to this issue..." Adrian said to Cassuner. "Else I'll have to actually buy my ore from this point on. Too much effort required to find a good ore merchant..."

Vrokos received the handshake, staring the entire time at the man’s eyes.

“Let us hope for your sake it doesn’t,” he smiled at his remark and sat back down. He was in deep thought, yet he still listened to the conversation of those around him. He carried no intrigue upon the details of the quest, only the quest itself, and, of course, seeing it done. He slowly licked his fangs with his tongue, something he did while in deep thought. Eyes closed, he went into the world he remembered it to be, and the people that were in it. One thing, however, stuck out in this picture, it was a woman. Her hair a delicate gold yet more valuable, her eyes the shining blue of the sun soaked sky after a rain storm, a smile red as fresh poured blood. She was his ecstasy. Yet all that remained was this image he retained of her; and forever her beautiful repeating voice inside his head.

He was dragged out of his meditation by the elven girl who spoke before thought. This representation he had held of her remained steadfast still as she spoke out to the group wittily calling Vrokos an abomination of this Earth. He hated that word so much. He would let her know this.

“Quite your tongue nature child and go back to nipping upon VI’Zekiles cock,” He looked down at the flower he had noted her pick and then revive earlier. With a snap of his fingers the flower wilted and died until it became nothing, then, with an eloquent swaying of his hand, it bloomed once again a bright intense orange. “You know nothing of abominations. I have walked these forests since before you were a conceived idea. I know more of its wisdom than you could ever hope to possibly learn. Everything has its end; yet some after that end have also a new beginning. I am no different.”

As he finished he could hear rustling in the bushes to his right, shouting, and suddenly a young man with dark orange hair burst into the clearing, falling on his nose. The wolf lass landed on top of him, sitting. He struggled and complained, but she would not be move.


"What gives?!" yelled the man, "I was just walking by, minding my own business, then this crazy dame comes out of nowhere an-"


He looked up from the dirt, beholding the dangerous group before him. He shut up for half an instant. Then, "M-m-my name's E'Nide Braelat! I mean, I'm nobody! Please don't kill me..."

"I've found another friend!" Bianca announced, touching the back Of E'Nide's neck. A black band etched itself around the circumference of his throat. The tattoo looked an awful lot like a collar. It was then Vrokos’ eyes met the neck of the others around the group.

How did I not notice? He thought. Have I really been so long without blood?

The bard protested in a massive rage as he noticed the tattoo on himself.. He must have not had it before. Another commented for him to calm down. Vrokos, however, did not blame the bard for his outburst.

“You’ve asked us all if we wanted to join seemingly on our own free will,” he fingered his neck then pushed up his glasses, “I’m assuming this was a lie?”

- - Cassuner - -

"Oh, boo!" the she-wolf complained, not caring much for the bard's tone. It was probably a good thing Cassuner had never taught her what a slut was.

The pyromancer closed his eyes and leaned against a tree, taking a large drag off his pipe. Slowly exhaling from the nose like some great fire-demon, he tried to drown out the sounds coming from E'Nide, who had been allowed to sit up, but had yet to stop talking.

One of the many reasons the others had been sedated upon capture.

Cassuner nodded as the bard vented. "You just tried to use your magic on me, didn't you, aeromancer?" He nodded again, "Had we not taken such preventative measures, I'd be dead right now, and the world would be even more thoroughly doomed."

He glanced at the Neko and the vampire that had addressed him, then back to the bard. "The mark you all bear is called 'Bars Finitum'," he said, "It allows the caster to regulate the target's mana flow, and nothing more. It will fade if the caster wills it, the caster dies, or if the target moves too far away. It's a rather long distance though, but you're free to strike out into the wilderness alone without your powers if I have caused offense beyond forgiveness."

He took another long drag. Bianca continued where Cassuner left off, "Don't be mad," she pleaded, summoning her almighty puppy-dog eyes, "He made me promise I'd do it to anyone that sees my tail!"

Cassuner snorted. It was true.

E'Nide blurted, still evidently not convinced of his safety, "I promise I didn't see no... wait, tail? What?" Then he got his first good look at Bianca, and his jaw dropped. She giggled.

"Yes, well," Cassuner continued, ignoring the newcomer, "I'm afraid the Bars are here to stay for a time. Even for those of you without apparent magical abilities. You can't be too safe..."

He paused for a moment, "But, as a gesture of trust..."

He motioned to Bianca with his pipe. She made no visible movements, but quickly squeaked, "Done!"

She bounced back over to the bard, and gave him her sweetest look.

Cassuner smiled for the first time since everyone had woken up. "You can now altar mana, but your abilities have been restricted." He dumped out the the pipe, and stashed it back in his cloak. "Trust me, and you'll be trusted in turn."

He looked down at E'Nide, who appeared to be completely lost. He would need to have words with the man shortly.

"It grows dark. I suggest we get a move-on soon."

"Finally, he finds his sanity!"

Talethal felt the anger ebb out of him as he gained a minute amount of control over his powers again, though he still raged over being controlled and lied to, he could see some reason, flawed reason, but still reason as to do what Cassuner did.

He gazed down on at Bianca next to him, then he took a breath to calm himself, then another, then he counted to ten, and then restarted and counted to a hundred.

"I am, sorry for what I called you, what I said was in anger, and I did not mean it, for you at the most part. But I still said it and apologies are only words, ask and I will anything I can to earn your forgiveness, I offer you my services as a bard on our journey as well, ask you shall receive"

There was a sense of pleading in his words as if he felt ashamed at letting his anger out, and then directing it at a person who seemed to be a puppet themselves. He then turned to Cassuner.

"I will follow you for now and set aside my rage at this, farce, but know this, every decision you make, every move you take, I will be watching, and when you do anything that would pose unnecessary risk against any of us or deviates from the task at hand, I will take action, swift action, to see that the situation is rectified, understand"

With that he strode back to the tree he had left his things at and hefted them up. He tuned his lute, looking inside himself for a song to play, but he could find nothing that would not sing of rage and violence, of revenge. Sighing he strode over to Bianca's side.

"A song, my fair lady"

"I... See." Adrian mused. "Well, I'd promised I would see it through already, and City life is more boring than this, at any rate."

"Lead on, then, since you've given yourself that title." He said, with a tinge of sarcasm.

"You're lucky I don't take your head were you stand for this pyromancer" Sorrow said "But as it is your point about the end of the world still stands and so i'll also stick to my agreement to help you."

"Though I must say this mark is somewhat pointless. It affects the mana of the person it is on and none of my power comes from mana. What isn't brute strength is somewhat less conventional than the power of mancers" He continued "So i'll present you with this. Once we've finished this little mission you and me are going to have a nice long discussion in which you'll have to give me a decent answer you not using my sword to turn you into a kebab"

"Hmm well I guess that makes my point clear so until this is over let us not speak of that again" his tone had changed from threatening to a more philosophical and intellectual one that none would expect from him as much as they would an ogran. "Tell me about yourself pyromancer and everything that you know of what has happened in the world in the last 250 years. I think after such a long time away I could do with filling in and I doubt the vampire, while the most logical person to ask, would want to converse with me after how I first reacted."

"No," Bianca said, her expression as chipper as usual, "but I'll find some other way for you to make it up to me."

Without waiting for a response, she then hopped back over to her father, who was luckily far too stoned to disapprove of her wording, even though she'd sounded innocent enough. "Let's go!" she called out, addressing everyone in a voice that sounded way too cheerful, "If we're outside city gates thirty minutes from now, we'll be torn to pieces!"

Cassuner couldn't keep his laughter at bay.

"Your humor could use a little work."

"Yes," Cassuner said, looking at the giant, who had begun asking questions that required lengthy responses, "we'll talk later. We have to move."

And at that, he grabbed E'Nide by the arm (but not without protest), then set out into the bushes and beyond, with Bianca following happily behind, her tail swishing from side to side as she moved.

Grom rose to his feet and carefully stretched his legs and then arms. This was a unique opportunity, not only in that he would be contributing in what could be a legendary quest but also that he now would be forced to remaster techniques he once knew so well. It was true, in the progressing of his years he had utilized more complex combat style which relied on his vitalmancy more than his technique. His martial arts had grown no doubt sloppy, but he was sure he'd have plenty of opportunities to practice.

The pyromancer led the way, he fell into pace silently.

One of Talethal eyebrows raised at his surprise at Bianca's wording. Smiling, he took an extra shirt out of his pack and shoved it into the belly of his lute, it would dull the noise making it only heard about twenty feet out, and noticeably much quieter than the clamor the Tin mans armor made.

"I will do my best for when that moment comes my lady, until then, I will play anyway, it is my duty as a bard to keep spirts up with song, and things look dreary for the start of this journey"

With that he took up place behind Bianca. He enjoyed the view of his...surroundings, as he played.


When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone

I did not believe because I could not see
Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me

Then the mountain rose before me
By the deep well of desire
From the fountain of forgiveness

Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars

Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares
Beyond the ice and the fire

Please remember me
Please remember me

Vrokos stood up and dusted off the dirt that the back of his coat had obtained from sitting. His eyes fallowed those who had began to walk, then turned to the trees above them. This will be my path, he thought to himself. With that, Vrokos took a leap into the tree he had been standing under and all that could be heard from him was the rustling of the branches.

The group was moving loudly through the forest, so Venetica made this not so. The leaves became limp, no longer crispy and able to be crushed. Branches moved to a side, and allowed them to pass before moving back to their normal positions. The group was angry about the bands, V could feel the tension in the group.

The actions she used didnt use magic, she simply willed it and the forest obeyed. These skills were harmless, however, and the band was useless to prevent it. Knowing this, V couldn't help but smile.

The gates soon loomed in the distance, and the group moved silently through the jelly-like leaves and moving branches. As she moved from the heart of the forest, and the trees became more and more sparsely located, her powers began to wane. The group made a silent rustle now, still concealed by V's magic, but no more noticable than a breeze running through the forest.

Content with Cassuner's answer Sorrow changed his pace and moved off to the side away from the main group slightly. Removing his hunting knife and a whetstone he proceeded to sharpen the blade.

It was a pointless task as the blade of the knife was crafted from the finest metal by one of the greatest blacksmiths the dwarves had ever had in return for him helping in the defense of one of their great cities and providing the crucial support that turned the tide of the battle well over two thousand years ago.

Since that day the knife supposedly would have never dullened even if left alone but several hundred years later Sorrow had been rewarded for rescuing a temple of priests from a group of raiders that had tried to ransack the temple with his knife being blessed so as to prevent it from ever dulling.

Looking up at the sky he remembered how both times and several times beforehand he had been offered the option of them "improving" the sword that hung at his sides and him refusing everytime. He chuckled at the thought of how none of them back then had known a thing about the sword and how as wise as this pyromancer thought he was there was no way he would know the truth about him further than his "basic" size and strength.

Should they get into anything too challenging though. He pondered as he continued walking. Wondering how the others would react to his...abilities.

Looking back ahead he realised that the city was drawing ever closer.

“Almost there” Seris muttered to himself, as he angled a lock pick into the small key hole on his wrist irons. There was a soft click as the lock opened freeing one of his hands. Seconds afterwards the other iron was off and he flexed his hands restoring feeling to them. Now that he’d escaped his bonds he looked around the cell for some way to escape. The walls were made of cobblestone and bars lined its front, the only exit was through a locked iron door. He sighed; obviously they had no intention of letting him escape.
After inspecting the lock he decided that it would be almost impossible to pick without more time. He would have to improvise.

“I’m hungry!” He yelled, “What’s it take to get served in this place”
“Shut up scum!” came the reply from further down the corridor “You’ll be fed when I feel like it”
“Hurry up!” Seris called “I haven’t eaten since all day!”

There was the scraping of chair legs across the floor followed by the sound of footsteps. Seris hurried to the back of his cell and hid his arms and the loose irons behind his back. Moments later the prison guard appeared at his cell door, in one hand he held a large wooden club.

“I’ll give you something to eat” he hissed unlocking the door and raising the club menacingly.

As the guard brought the club down in a sluggish swing, Seris began to move. He rolled to the side, avoiding the club by mere inches and quickly got to his feet. He kicked out hard, knocking the club out of the man’s hand and followed through with a punch to his head that sent him sprawling to the floor. Before the man could get fully to his feet, Seris grabbed the club and swung it hard at the back of his head. There was a dull crack and the man fell forward back onto the floor where he lay, not moving.

Now the way was clear, Seris stepped out onto the long dark corridor. His cell was near the exit but he could see many more lining both walls. Quietly he edged towards the guard station next to the stairs and peered around the corner. It was empty; it appeared they hadn’t expected anyone to escape the cells. He entered the room and began to search various chests looking for his stuff. Finally he found it in a battered looking, wooden box. He pulled on his dark green cloak and tabard and attached both short swords to his belt, swung his bow over his shoulder along with a quiver of arrows. Now he just needed to get out of this dungeon.

Chapter 0.5 - Naked


- - O - -


It was getting darker.

O was getting closer.

He hurtled through plains. He jumped over hills. He danced over rivers. Truly, no terrain could ever hope to hinder his pace. If there was one thing that could be said about O, it was that he was fast. Fast and faster.

The smell was getting stronger, and his excitement gradually rose to match it. O grinned as he sailed across the earth at breakneck speed, wondering what lay at the end of the invisible trail he followed.

He passed many strange men dressed in armor, but not a single one saw or heard him, despite how loudly he laughed. O was but a shadow within the shadows. He did cartwheels between their ranks, and skipped over their oblivious heads. Oh, the fun he had.

But then he slowed for a moment to read the minds of those he passed. His tail frazzled instantly. He retreated a ways, deeply concerned.

They were cruel, warlike men, with cruel, warlike thoughts. They were all clad entirely in the blackest platemail O had ever seen. Their helmets were full and bulky, masking their faces completely. They marched in short columns, soundlessly. They too were shadows. O could see not a single patch of skin on the lot of them, and they were... wet. Dripping wet.

And their hearts were all bent to a single murderous desire.

O sniffled and cocked his head to the side, watching them from a distance. He didn't have much of a mind for numbers, but knew that he couldn't count them all on his fingers. He'd need at least a few more hands. Maybe if he used his toes... nah.

Strangely, none of them wore weapons. Blinking, O decided that they were therefore of no concern, and bounded off on his way. He hoped the Divers wouldn't find them. No way they'd survive this far away from the nearest city, even if they were armed to the teeth.

Suddenly, he heard gurgling, screaming roars coming from the coast, nearly a mile to the east. Right on schedule. In the distance, he could see the smoke marking their entry. Divers. Undead, too dead to die. Demons.

And then the sun fell below the horizon, and was no more.

He picked up the pace. He did not like the dark.

Suddenly, O came to a skidding halt in a meadow. The scent was very strong... It had JUST been here, no more than half an hour ago. He smelled other scents too... several. But the smell he followed vastly overpowered the lot of them.

Plopping on his rear, O began digging at the earth between his thighs. After excavating a hole about the size of his head, he reached into the satchel on his leg and pulled out a huge blue seed, as big as a hackey sack. Dropping the seed into the hole, he covered the opening back up, and quickly dashed off into the woods, intent on following the scent further.

Around all sides, the groaning wails gradually became louder, and more enraged. Peninsulas were no place to live. He wondered what suicidal force urged the residents of Wessenridge and Zuss to continue living where they did.

At least their walls were large. Large and old.

But not as old as O.

- - Cassuner - -

The Divers' infamous hunting call sobered the pyromancer up very quickly. He'd just managed to calm E'Nide, and tell him what he needed to know. Though the man was incredibly distraught, he'd agreed not to cause any trouble. He was very afraid, Cassuner could tell.

But the look that appeared on E'nide's face when that first horrid scream came peeling over the hills... beyond terror.

Quickly dismissing the apparently unarmed man to the center of their travelling party, Cassuner spoke out in a voice just loud enough for everyone to hear. "We're currently in the Mankiller Forest," he said, "about a mile from Zuss to the north, and two miles from Wessenridge to the south."

For years, there'd been rumors of some crazed poisonous man-demon residing in the woods. Like most rumors, they were of course untrue, but that didn't make it a safe place. Come nightfall, nowhere was safe. Nowhere outside, anyway.

"Bianca and I," Cassuner continued, "arrived here by air, two days ago. I'd have much rather landed in a safer place, but our particular mode of transportation would have caused quite a stir, had it been seen." He grinned inwardly, thinking of Efrit, and how Bianca had so opposed the notion of riding him. She hadn't open her eyes the entire trip.

"Pops took a nap of sorts while I went around finding you lot," Bianca chimed in, "I had to tie him up in a tree so the Divers wouldn't get him."

"Mystic simulation," Cassuner corrected, though he didn't bother to correct the part about the tree. It was a lot easier than saying, "I turn invisible when I sleep." They'd be learning that about him soon enough.

Suddenly, Cassuner realized he heard nothing. He stopped in his tracks.

He looked left.

He looked right.

"Oh shi-"

And Cassuner was suddenly slammed to the ground, a burning, snarling creature tearing at his form. "Fuck!" he shouted, thrashing about on the forest floor.

Then in an instant, the diver was off him, having been blown aside by a blast of white-hot light. Scrambling to his feet, Cassuner saw Bianca. Her look was wild. Frenzied. Excited. She began to glow a pale color. "No!" Cassuner shouted to the wolf girl, "You get out of here!"

Her look was rebellious, but his look meant business. Growling, she ceased glowing, and disappeared.

"Beware!" the pyromancer called to the others, unsheathing his sword for the first in quite a long time. The blade was red and cerated and deadly-looking. He looked down at the ruined puddle that had once been a Diver. This was the first time he'd actually seen one stay down. It was... a beautiful sight.

So it was true after all. Regardless, he would soon be having a harsh word or two with his "daughter."

All around, Cassuner could hear the woods rustling. By far, the thing he hated most about Divers, was that they stopped making any noise when they were closing in on their prey. Silence unnerved him far more than any scream ever could.

He slipped into his battle pose, running his metal-gloved left hand along the blade's jagged edge, creating a spark. The spark instantly erupted into a mighty flame, consuming the blade. His light cast golden brilliance, scattering far into the night. His crazed face glowed in the blackness.

He smiled wickedly.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" the Voice demanded.

"Oh, right. They regenerate."

"RUN!!" Cassuner shouted, barreling off deeper into the woods, holding his flaming sword high for all to follow. He hoped the noises he heard right behind him were just the others, but he knew better.

He was never that lucky.

Talethal barreled forward covering the small distance between him and the diver chasing Cassuner with a small leap, knocking it to the ground and snapping its neck in one clean motion. He threw himself to the side of path and rolled to his feet as its neck instantly unsnapped and it leapt back up from the ground. With his better position though, he threw his empty hand forward palm first and sent the diver flying with a concentrated wind to be impaled on a tree of to the side.

Turning he sprinted forward and quickly over took the pyromancer. He began sending rapid fire gales of wind forward and of to the sides, to send anything that dared crawl out of the forest flying back from whence they came.

"Stay behind and shout out the directions, I will clear the way" He said cocking his head back as he ran. Turning forward, he took a breath and sang out into the night, openly taunting their pursuers.


Unholy Diver
You've been down too long in the midnight sea
Oh what's becoming of thee

Ride the tiger
You can see his stripes but you know he's clean
Oh don't you see what I mean

Gotta get away
Unholy Diver

Got!
Shiny rubies
Like the eyes of a cat in the black and blue
Something is coming for you

Look out!
Race for the morning
You can hide in the sun 'till you see the night
Oh we will pray it's all right

Gotta get away-get away

Between the velvet lies
There's a truth that's hard as steel
The vision never dies
Life's a never ending wheel

Unholy Diver
Their the star of the masquerade
No need to look so afraid

Jump on the tiger
You can feel his heart but you know he's mean
Some light can never be seen

Unholy Diver
You've been down too long in the midnight sea
Oh what's becoming of thee

Gotta get away
Get away
Gotta get away
Get away yeah

Unholy Diver
Sole survivor
Your armours clean

Unholy Diver

The pyromancer's blade ignited and suddenly the reflection of the fire stared at Grom from all angles. His feet spread and knees bent before he knew what he was doing. This was an enemy he could not hope to win against.

"RUN!!" The pyromancer's voice ran out as he tore frantically into the forest. A diver followed him, and others emerged from the trees around the group. Grom chanced a look around him and instantly regretted doing so. The situation was hopeless at best, and there were few alternatives to following the pyromancer, even if it meant following a diver as well. He ran after the visible pyromancer's torch as it bobbed and wove in and out of gaps in the trees. Others ran with him and Grom did not stop to discern weather they were Diver or not. He only ran, his hair in his eyes as he miraculously avoided tripping over thick roots and brush.

But the steps behind him grew louder and closer no matter how fast he ran. He glanced behind himself to confirm it a Diver, and then stopped, spun, and crouched low. The diver came at him with an unnatural speed and it's eyes were the hardest to meet out of all the foes Grom had faced in his lifetime. He sprang, his palm meeting the Diver's chin and sending it onto it's back. On a normal enemy, a potentially lethal strike. But Grom did not need to look back to confirm it would be getting back up, he was too busy running once again.

After the pyromancer had shouted for them to run Sorrow had began to move after him. He saw a diver get back to its feet having only just been knocked down with a palm to the chin from one of the people following Cassuner.

Deciding to put it down for slightly long he altered his course slightly as it began chase of the group and before it knew what had happened he had caught up to it.

Grabbing it with both hands and lifting it off of the groud around its waist as he continued to run he pulled and suceeded in tearing the diver into two pieces. He then threw each piece in opposite directions into the forest.

Increasing his speed he quickly caught up with the others as the other divers began to close in. Readying himself for if they were caught he drew his knife and placed his other hand ready to draw his sword.

The night had eaten all light. Lumen sat on the bed of the local Inn in Zuss gazing out the window towards the moon. "Oh beauty. Oh reflection of eternal flames and light. You feel... so far away." A sigh escapes his lips.
The room smells slightly of mold- due to leaks in the ceiling that let in water lumen reckoned. His bed was firm on the edges but sunk inward quite dramatically where it became soft; an 'over-used' type of soft. He had not bothered to brighten the room with any source of light as he preferred to sit in darkness at times like this. His room was not what one would call well furnished. It had a chair, a small wooden dresser, and a bed- all the necessities and nothing extra. Lumen brings his eyes down to the floor below him. There, sprawled out in an organized fashion, was everything he owned. On the far left of this pile was an ornate Yatagan. The sword was sheathed to hide its blade- for the blade was bonded to him in such a way that it would undoubtedly make him well noticed within the Inn, attracting attention that Lumen preferred to avoid at the moment. To the left of the sword was a large leather backpack which concealed his clothing, his depleting wealth, and vials of various powders used for enchantments. To the left of that, lay a small round wooden case. The case was one of Lumen's most treasured possessions, yet also the most worthless. It opened up to reveal two mirrors, one on the lid and one on the base held together by a metal hing. Then, there was a very detailed map of L'Juno. On it were 'X's on specific towns and cities that created a line leading from the capital all the way down to Zuss. Lastly, on the far right, was a long khopesh. It too had it's blade hidden, only this sword did not have a nice looking sheath like the yatagan. No, the khopesh had a makeshift leather sheath that certainly looked... well quite shitty.

Lumen picked up the wooden case and opened it. On the base mirror was an octogram, beautifully depicted in an almost transparent material. It was ringed in connecting Latin text. He touched it and frowned as nothing happened. He faced the base mirror towards the moon and looked at the reflection for a time. Lumen slowly moved his eyes to the wall adjacent of the mirror. He could feel the light it cast on the wall. He waved his hand to strengthen the beam until the wood on the wall started smoking. "Who knows how much longer it will be before i cant even do that" he thought to himself. It had been some time ago when he first noticed the effects of the fallen lance. After a great deal of research utilizing some of the empire's resources, he realized what had happened and what needed to be done. ah... the empire. the mirror he held in his hand at this very moment was a gift from the empire. A gift in exchange for his gift. a gift that was never theirs to give. It was his fathers, or at least that's what the empire told him.
Lumen could control light itself. He could bend it, manipulate it, focus it, absorb its energy, use it to create heat, and everything else imaginable. Yet he could never shed light on his past. who his parents were was a mystery with a path to enlightenment that was all but destroyed by the empire. for as long as he could remember he had been in service of the empire. They taught him how to master his ability and gave him everything he had. they were much kinder to him then the other mancers captured at birth... though the whole lot was never as obedient as he was, never showed as much promise, and never liked doing something in the name of a greater cause as much as he did.
Lumen picked up the yatagan and unsheathed it. light exploded into the room as the blade took its first breaths after days of imprisonment. he put the naked sword down next to him on the bed, then bent down and picked up the khopesh. He took the ugly leather off and revealed a blade as black as a diver's heart. darkness bleed into the room like blood in water, absorbing much of the light that its brother had created.
"Hello creperum" Lumen said, addressing the sword of darkness. "and you, rutilus" he added, speaking to the sword of light. The blades never talked back, but there was never the less entities within them. Lumen had long ago separated his soul into three parts. He enchanted both blades and placed a piece of his soul in each. there were complications though, and some other things inhabited the blades as well... two beings Lumen had grown intimately close with and knew nothing about. They shared with him their feelings and nothing more, and what they felt in this very moment scared Lumen more then any words could. Fear.
"We must leave once again. i have traveled all the way down the peninsula and have yet to find someone who has a decent knowledge of the lances."
Both blades express an optimistic feeling, giving Lumen a sense of hope.
"It would be a lot easier to travel if the empire wasn't after us now..."
The blades express sympathy.
We had no choice but to run away. They wouldn't listen to me. They called the lance a folk tale... they refuse to do anything... they don't understand. I suppose only mancers can feel what's happening. bureaucrats are so far from instinct and nature...
Lumen sighs again. he sheaths the blades and slides them under his pillow. he then pushes his belongings under the bed and lays down staring at the moon.

Venetica stopped silencing the forest, and ran. She moved through the forest faster than her counterparts, it was her element. She embraced it, moved it, felt it. When she stepped on a log, it bounced her several feet forward.

Divers attempted to claw at her, but the forest responded to the darkness that infected it. Vines dropped down after the group, providing a distraction. Roots sprang up, tripping the undead. Sometimes an old tree fell down, trapping the undead underneath.

Venetica couldn't help but smile at this, and continued running.

Adrian could just barely hear the monsters they called Divers, but that didn't mean he was safe from them. He moved quickly, getting ahead of Cassuner in a few moments, but not quite willing to get ahead of Talethal, whose winds were blowing the beasts back.

One of the creatures jumped out from the forest to Adrian's side, and was consequently launched away by the force of the ground rapidly lengthening beneath it.

"You missed one!" Shouted Adrian to Tal, who was still blindly blasting air at anything that moved in front of the group.

"We're headed North right now! Keep going!" Adrian shouted again. Being a Geomancer as in tune with the earth as he is, he was able to detect the magnetic poles of the planet in a matter of seconds.

--Meanwhile, in the realm of faeries--

"Bindweed Elfshimmer.", She despised the name, hating the taste of it as she spoke it. She preferred Blink. It was a simple name, almost like a human name. That is why she was at court.

Before her was the faerie council, responsible for all things magic. It is they who control the lesser magical creatures, from the greedy leprechauns to the bizarre mood monkeys. Mood monkeys change color depending on their mood, but are usually red. Red stands for anger, and it doesn't help that they are known to capture and rape any creature that comes into their territory.

Why she was thinking of mood monkeys in the first place made no sense to her. The council was talking, she needed to pay attention.


"....and great disrespect to the elders and our ways.", the gnome on the council replied. "You are hereby stripped of all occupations, and will be reassigned according to demand."

"Wait, what?", Blink said, in more of a shout than a question. "I'm the best at what I do! To re-class me would slow down the entire wheel!"

"You have consorted with the human world, and even renamed yourself.", the mood monkey on the council said, turning purple in his three piece suit. "Consider yourself lucky, most would be slain. Howev...."

"Wait!", Blink shouted. "Let me at least redeem myself."

"You got drunk and slept with at least two dozen humans.", the gnome said, placing his large head in his small palm. "I'll have to say no."

"Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt.", a giant bee shouted, waving her stinger in a general 'No' fashion.

"A Floramancer is fighting for her life as we speak. Assist her, and we'll speak again", the mood monkey said, turning violet. With a snap of his fingers, the faerie was gone.

"Why'd you do that?", the gnome asked. "She's a danger to us and everyone else."

"Bzzt! Bzzzzuuzzzzzt.", the queen bee said.

"It's a high chance she'll die, queen. Especially since I took most of her powers away.", the monkey said, straightening his tie. "Maybe she'll actually make something of herself. Redemption is hard to attain, but attainable. Now, if you excuse me, there is a poo fight at three o'clock that I do not wish to miss."

The gnome waited until the rest of the council was out of sight and sighed. "Sometimes I think gnomes are the only things not bat shit crazy."

--In J'Luno--


Blink fell heavily on the ground. She wasn't used to the different gravity yet, and it was difficult to stand. She flew up a few feet, to about human height and looked around. The floramancer she was looking for wasn't around.

Something pawed at her, and she barely was able to miss it.

"Shit! Divers!", Blink shouted, slapping her hands together. A bright flash erupted from her hands, causing great pain to the creatures. They staggered back, giving Blink time to fly away.

Magic was being used nearby, Blink could feel it. Especially since she was shot into the ground by a rush of wind. She felt hands scoop her up before a boot landed roughly where she had just landed.

Venetica saw something flash ahead of them, then get knocked down by wind mage. She picked the poor thing up before the rest of the group stomped it to death, and found that it was a fairy.

"You! I've been sent to save you! Come with me!", it said, trying to fly away. V caught it, and stuffed it into her blouse.

"Just....wait....till...we're....safe...", Venetica huffed. She couldn't run for much longer, and the gates seemed so far away.

At the bottom of the stairs Seris found himself in a long, stone corridor lined with more cells and torches at regular intervals, it appeared deserted. However just as he was about to continue onwards he heard the sound of footsteps and a door being opened. He ducked back onto the staircase and drew his swords. One was a normal short sword with no distinguishing features except a few engravings. The other had a deep hook cut into the blade giving it many other ‘uses’.

It wasn’t long until a guard walked past the stair case. Seris waited a few seconds, then slipped up behind the man and silently cut his throat. He lowered the body to the floor and hurried on up the corridor, stopping briefly to look out of a tiny slit window. He seemed to be one the third floor of the prison, but it was hard to judge.

“Hey, you!” The shout came from a guard standing at the other end of the corridor “Don’t move”

“Fat chance” Seris thought, holding his swords at the ready.

“Prisoner escape!” the guard yelled, “I need help up here!” He began to run down the corridor toward Seris drawing his sword as he came.

Seris was ready for him, the guard lunged forward and he easily parried the blow, following through with an upper cut using his other sword. The slash crippled the guard and the next blow finished him off for good. More guards were now pouring into corridor behind him blocking the way back. Without pausing to think, he ran onwards tearing down the corridor. A guard exited the stairway with his sword drawn ready. He swung wildly at Seris aiming for his waist. He blocked instinctively and there was a soft ‘clink’ as the sword became trapped in the hook in Seris’s blade.

He couldn’t help smiling as he swung the blade upwards, ripping it from the man’s hand and sending it flying into the air where it became embedded into the wooden ceiling above them. There wasn’t time to gloat however, so he quickly rid the man of his life and ran down the stairs onto the second floor. He pushed open the door at the bottom and looked down the corridor; it was already filling with guards from the lower floors and there were footsteps on stairs behind him. He was trapped!

He was about to give up, when he spotted a large wooden door set into the wall not far away. It was the best hope he had. He shoved the it open and found himself in a grand looking office, at its centre sat a large mahogany desk; bookshelves lined the sides, while the back was taken up with a large glass window. Without wasting any time Seris ran to it and looked down. It was dark outside but the light from the town made it clear that the prison backed onto a river. This was it.

The door smashed open and guards piled into the room.
“Gentlemen” Seris said grinning, whilst stood next to the window “It has been a pleasure, I shall remember our time together fondly when I look back on it. Thank the chef for me, his meals have been truly horrific and it has to be said, often late.” He bowed “now it is time for me to-“
He was cut off as a gun shot rang out from the back of the room, shattering the window but missing him completely.
“Say goodbye”
Without another word he dropped out the window and into the river below.