Here We Are Now, Entertain Us! (IC)

[MisterSaturnine]

Today is a big day in the Télosian Empire, for today is the Day of Sacrifice. An enormous crowd is gathered around an equally large ziggurat made all the more imposing by the rivers of reddish-brown stains running down from the top. The sun is high in the sky and a gentle breeze keeps it from being too hot. The twenty or so sacrifices are lined up at the top, flanked by dozens of guards. Sitting on an ivory throne is the Emperor himself. The crowd murmurs excitedly until the sky goes red and an ominous red mist begins whirling violently atop the ziggurat. The mist shapes itself into a huge, vaguely humanoid figure. It gestures to the first person standing in line, who walks up to an altar, accompanied by two guards. One hands him a strange-looking crystal, which lights up as he speaks, glowing brighter when he speaks softer and dimmer when he speaks loudly. The device seems to amplify his voice, so that all who are gathered around the ziggurat can hear.

"I am Alonso Abana. My father was a thief, and I followed in his footsteps. I am 30 years old, and I have spent half of my life in prison. I am no longer willing to let my family's honor suffer for my misdeeds, and I give myself to the Blood Spirit so that my family's name will be clean."

He hands the crystal back to the guard who handed it to him. The guard gives him a pat on the back before Abana lays himself down on the altar. A man wearing an elaborate golden head-dress, white and red body paint, and a deadly-looking clawed glove walks over to him, mutters something, and plunges his hand into Abana's chest. He lets out a scream as the holy man pulls his hand out just as quickly, clutching his heart. The man holds the heart, still beating, in front of Abana's face as his screams die out into nothingness, and then holds out the heart to the Blood Spirit who lets out a roar of satisfaction that makes the ground shake.

The process is repeated for several others--a retired politician, one of the royal guards, a merchant, a minor nobleman. The next person who steps up and grabs the crystal takes a piece of parchment out from his pocket.

"I would like to read a speech I have prepared."

The man clears his throat, takes a deep breath, and starts reading from the scroll. The language is unlike any other, and as the man speaks, he makes strange motions. He occasionally stumbles a little bit over one of the words and his motions seem a little jerky and awkward. There's something about it that just seems...wrong.

Melina
You instantly recognize the words and gestures as arcane in nature.

Before the guards can figure out what to do, the sky darkens further and the Blood Spirit lets out what can only be described as a scream, its hands clutching its head. Immediately after the wail, the guards descend on the man who read from the scroll, tearing him apart with their bare hands and teeth. The Blood Spirit fades into the red sky and the rest of the crowd reacts in the same way that the guards did, possessed by some supernatural urge to rip each other apart. There are about 100 or so unaffected, and they run screaming in terror from those who are not. Among those spared from whatever happened to the Blood Spirit are Takk'vakkan'irtala, Elath, Melina, and Sariel.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina watched the ritual with fascination. This is what she had come for; the descriptions of the spirit rituals, while generally disgusting, also indicated more than the focus that manifesting the academy's powers required. It required the ritual, and so did her powers - the gestures, the chant. Didn't require ripping a man's heart out, at least none of hers did, but that was just the thing - she had no idea what she was doing. Maybe her mini-rituals were like this. Maybe the spirits were behind it? She didn't much like that thought; the spirits in the jungle had always been wild, dangerous, and she didn't trust them if they were the source of her power. But it had never failed her; she knew how to command them, and never had her powers resisted her command. And she'd do damn near anything to learn how she was doing what she was doing, and more importantly, how she could learn to do more.

Watching the thief die, she shuddered. Maybe... maybe not anything for her powers. She was comfortable with the ones she currently controlled; if more required that, then she wasn't interested. She'd stick to her simple, safe tricks...

The more she thought about it, the more she didn't think this was related to what she did. The blood spirit up there, it was just... so obviously a part of it. In much the way such spirits were obviously not a part of what she did. She'd come a long way, and hey, she'd had a good time, but this was not her, and she'd just as soon be left of this place.

Well, that was her thought until the man began his own spell. She stared, mouth agape, as he went through the incantation. She'd never... she'd never thought she's see another person do what she did. And he definitely was... but oh, it was so involved! No quick gestures and a few words, this was, like he said, a speech...

And then a scream. A horrific, all-enveloping scream. The blood spirit's scream. And then mimicked by all those around her. Spinning left and right, watching in horror as they lost themselves, Melina immediately takes defensive precautions and manifests Inertial Armor, fully augmented (7 PP, +7 AC, for 7 hours).

After this preparation, she scrambles madly up the ziggurat, weaving to dodge the madmen as she goes. Melina is intent on exactly one thing: the paper that the "speech" was written on. If at all possible, she needs to know how he had done that. She hopes desperately that the paper wasn't just a prop, that it hadn't been consumed in the spell, that it might hold some clues for her, tell her anything about her powers. It's the first time she had ever seen anyone else with them, and horrific or not, she thirsts for the knowledge. She thought back on her conviction that the blood spirit's sacrifice was not for her, and how she'd rather leave that alone if that's where her powers were going... This, well... it had seemed right in all the ways that the academy's powers and the blood spirit's ritual had not. Undoubtedly evil, and she would never do this to a city of innocent people, but...The powers she had learned in the academy could be used for good or evil; everyone knew that. No reason her powers couldn't be used for as much good as that man's were used for evil. But only if she could learn more.

If the paper is anywhere in sight when she reaches the top of the ziggurat, her first move is to grab it and tuck it away safely. If she sees it lying on one of the "steps" on the way up, she'll divert to go and get it before continuing up the ziggurat.

[MisterSaturnine]

So, judging by the events in the OOC board, Melina has decided to charge up to the top of the ziggurat.

Melina
You begin climbing up the steps of the ziggurat, running as quickly as you can. When you get near to the top of the ziggurat, you see the Emperor and a single guardsman fighting off a horde of angry guards and sacrifical volunteers. They don't look like they're doing too well--especially considering the fact that the Emperor's personal bodyguard is among the violent throng, clad in full plate adorned with gold. It seems the only thing keeping him from ripping apart the Emperor and the one guard who's managed to remain sane is the fact that he gets distracted by the other crazed attackers. You're standing about 100 feet away.

[Salvonus]

Takk'vakkan'irtala

This is civilisation?

Takk'vakkan'irtala, honoured Paladin of Narland, gazed upon the spectacle before him with disdain. Oh, certainly, he had seen worse amongst the tribal kobolds of his homeland - ancient, bloody rituals, seemingly serving no real purpose beyond the execution of criminals. Télos, however, was supposed to be the quintessential civilisation - that very same pinnacle of culture that Takk wished for Narland. He had traveled to Télos for the express purpose of learning more of their culture; after all, the tales that Yitak'raisvar recited had all referenced Télos as the classical home of humanity's greatest achievements. Takk had reasoned that there must have been a secret behind the flourishing of the Télosian Empire, some inherent richness of culture.

If the Day of Sacrifice was that enigmatic unknown, then Takk was quite disappointed. He knew little of this "Blood Spirit", beyond what was common knowledge. It struck him that the Télosian ritual of appeasement was surprisingly barbaric. Tribal. Is this what civilisation amounted to? The formal codification of bloody sacrifice and exploitation?

No, perhaps he was quick to judge. Takk chastised himself for dismissing these humans so quickly - perhaps there was some redeeming factor behind this disgusting sacrifice? He had gifted a part of his soul into Nar's trustworthy care - perhaps it was similar for these people? His ceremony, however, had been a private affair - a covenant of trust, an unbreakable bond behind the kobold knight-errant and his ever-glorious patron. This... appeasement of the Blood Spirit seemed in bad taste, an ill-advised encouragement of gratuitous violence and a celebration of animalistic instincts. Takk would not have been so perturbed, but these sorts of displays ran contrary to his personal conceptualisation of a civilised society. The little kobold vowed to do more research, to fully understand the reasoning behind this institutionalised bloodbath.

... he really did hate the screaming. He was an experienced warrior, true, but that didn't mean that he was fond of the screeching of a human's death throes. In the depths of combat, he could drown out that shrill cry, ignore the soul-rendering vocalisation that was synonymous with a creature's violent end. Shriek after agonising shriek pierced the kobold's ears; the more he thought about it, the more the cries irritated him. Finally, Takk could take it no longer; for the sake of posterity and his research, he was bound to observe this event to its conclusion - but his psyche demanded to be an impartial observer, to silence the heart-wrenching wailing of death. He began to enter a battle-state, his mind opening, his senses dulling the "unnecessary" cries of the damned and dying. Takk maintained complete and utter focus on his self-appointed observational task.

A thief. Misdeeds. Clearing his family name. Ah, so this ritual could be used as a means of familial and personal redemption? A vehicle for regaining lost honour? Had this mechanism arose out of a need for social justification of this bloody ritual, or was there something inherently cleansing or selfless about it? Again, more would need to be known about the true nature of this "Blood Spirit". Did it truly require these sacrifices, or was it simply imbued with cruelty?

A speech? The people seemed a bit surprised. This must not be common practice. Awkward physical mannerisms - well, that could be expected of someone sent to die, even if the others had not exhibited quite those characteristics of fear. Sky darkening - Takk was mildly surprised, as that had not occurred in the previous sacrifices. Wailing of the Blood Spirit. People tearing eachother apart with their bare hands. Screams of terror.

In his desensitised combat-state, Takk took a few moments to register the horrific reality of the situation. For a sickening split-second, the kobold had been utterly fascinated and surprised by the display of pure barbarism, had believed it to be part of the religious rituals surrounding the Day of Sacrifice.

As the essence of his plight dawned upon him, Takk reflexively sought out the comfort of his impeccably-controlled psycho-metabolic link. Drawing from his deep-set reserves of mental power, he empowered his lifeblood with a fortifying surge of pseudo-spiritual energy. Seconds later, his mind reached out into the surrounding area and constructed a protective psychokinetic barrier of pure energy. The kobold's eyes picked out the fleeing form of a strangely-attired human - one evidently not influenced by whatever malady had struck the rest of these people.

Takk's instincts told him to flee from the heart of the conflict, but his curiosity dictated his path. This woman had not been affected by the strange compulsion that had influenced so many of her compatriots - Takk wanted to know why. Traversing the crowd of suddenly-psychotic humans would be dangerous, but the kobold's heart had already made its decision.

Takk'vakkan'irtala was not a suicidal kobold, but he was one who was prone to flights of fancy. He had always been a dreamer, a romantic; had he not displayed considerable skill of the mind, he surely would have not been tolerated by his survival-minded tribe. He was smart and perceptive, but impulsive nonetheless. At that precise moment in time, however, he was sprinting through a crowd of cannibalistic Télosians, scurrying around their wildly-swinging limbs.

A quick pang of remorse cut through the unnerving calm of Takk's battle-mind. All these people, seemingly compelled to do grievous harm to each other, and he was not stopping to help them. What could he do, though? They had been driven wild, crazy, homicidal; Takk was no master of mentalism, and he certainly could not break the sway of such a bizarre compulsion. He cursed the necessity of his dis-passion, even as he regretted his weakness in the mind-healing arts. Humans they may be, but Takk found no solace in that fact. His heart heavy with grief and his eyes filled with his momentary weakness of mental fortitude, he focused his now-blurry sight on the ziggurat-bound woman.

Without skipping a beat, Takk's feet hit the ziggurat steps at a rapid gallop - he was mere seconds behind the woman he had followed to the temple's summit. As he opened his mouth to address the woman, he spotted the throng of humans accosting the man that Takk assumed to be the Emperor.

"Aggh, we ssshould do sssomething about thisss, yesss?" Takk inquired, savouring the delicious irony in his pointless question. The kobold's accent was thick; while he had mastered the language, he was nonetheless not used to the speech of humans. The reptilian affinity of his native dialect was evident, but it remained to be seen if his clarity of discourse was acceptable to a panicked human's ears.

Niggly Details:
Stance Assumed: Battle Mantra
Starting Maneuvers: [roll0], [roll1]
Manifested: Vigor (4 pp), Force Screen (1 pp)

[MisterSaturnine]

The Emperor whirls towards Melina and Takk, covered in blood, little of which is his own. He carries a golden longsword, dented in many places--clearly, the blade was ceremonial--and a large wooden shield.

"You're unaffected! Please help me, something's happened to the Blood Spirit, and I have no idea how to fix it...I've lost all connection--"

The Emperor's speech is interrupted by his bodyguard ramming into him and sending him sprawling down the lip of the stairs. The Emperor steadies himself, grabbing onto one of the steps for support to avoid falling down further, but is in a vulnerable position on the ground. His sword and shield continue to clatter down the zigurrat, and he lies exposed on its steps.

[Salvonus]

Mistaken post, please ignore these: [roll0] [roll1]

Takk'vakkan'irtala was a warrior of focus and determination, and not one to waste a single moment on shock and surprise. Having already prepared his mind for the quick reactions and decisions demanded by the chameleon nature of pitched combat, the kobold reacted with supernatural quickness to the Emperor's rapid tumble. Legs filled with boundless reserves of energy and head filled with unnerving calm, Takk quickly followed after the compulsion-wracked bodyguard.

The bodyguard seemed to Takk to be singularly intent on his prey - after all, the Emperor was so deliciously prone and vulnerable. Takk had no time to ponder his observation, however; dire situations called for single-minded concentration.

Amongst those imbued with phrenic fortitude, focus of the mind can manifest itself in supernatural acts. Such strength of thought can be channelled in a myriad of ways; Takk was quite aware of this. The kobold's eyes quickly scanned the plate-clad bodyguard for vulnerabilities. His opponent's armour appeared to be of impeccable quality, however, and Takk had little confidence in his ability to strike truly without aid.

Luckily for the diminutive warrior, he could call on his enhanced psycho-metabolic link to increase the accuracy of his blows. Channeling a minute amount of his mental reserves of power into his limbs, Takk could feel a sense of stability spreading into his limbs. Simultaneously, his fragmented soul-spark flared with a surge of inner strength, his unerring focus rewarded with a flash of inspiration. A blow that could draw upon the fledgling surface thoughts of his foes - the chaos of battle had combined with the order of his focused mind to produce this vital moment of insight. After all, what secrets could the tumultuous psyche of Takk's newfound opponent reveal?

Takk'vakkan'irtala, the Ever-Vigilant Sentinel of Narland, lashed out with his inspiration-imbued claws, seeking the fleshy weaknesses of the crazed human's plate-clad form...

[roll2]
[roll3] + [roll4] + [roll5]
[roll6]

(1 pp expended)

[MisterSaturnine]

Takk's claws, buzzing with psionic energy, find a comfortable home in the bodyguard's exposed flesh. He lets out a savage growls as he paws at his bloodied face. Takk's mind-reading maneuver let him read the surface thoughts of his enemy, but all he could sense was inexplicable, limitless bloodlust, and an echo of the Blood Spirit's terrible wail.


Accidentally gave him a +3 to Will, then tried to fix it, then the post got made at me and said the post roll count doesn't match database because, well, it doesn't. I deleted the first roll for Will and then substituted the new one (which didn't show up).

Ah, well. Basic idea is he failed the roll.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Looking around, Melina watches as a frenzied guard bowls the Emperor down the stairs, and then recognizes the latent talent in the small lizard that defends him. Pitying the guard, she tries, hard, to comfort him - manifesting her power to override his senses, wrapping him in sensations of softness and comfort, leaving him nothing but soothing colors to see, gentle rhythms to hear. She tries to emulate the taste and the smell and the sights and sounds and feel of the womb, while trying to impress the most utter calm and serenity on his mind, trying to block out the maddening rage that the man imbued him with.

I might be over-stepping how much False Sensory Input can do here, but this is what Melina tries to do. If she cannot manage that much, then I guess she fails.

[MisterSaturnine]

Will save for False Sensory Input (DC 18):
[roll0]

Huh. Didn't expect him to make that save.


The man lets out a yowl and clutches his head, pulling off his helmet and tossing it the ground. At first he's breathing heavily and whimpering like a wounded dog, but he then sets his sights on Melina and lets out a roar not unlike the Blood Spirit's. He charges at her, leaping over the Emperor's prone body, and lashes out with his fists.

The scroll is nowhere to be found.


Aaand for some reason these new rolls for attack and damage aren't working. I'll link to invisible castle.

Attack: http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2204206/
23. Which means he hits your AC and does...
Damage: http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2204211/
7 damage.

[Schism]

Elath Teslenar

Elath let out his breath in a long, low whistle. He certainly hadn't expected anything like that to happen, even in Télos. The display didn't unnerve him by any means - one could hardly call oneself well-traveled if one had not seen at least a score of terrified mobs, after all - but it did raise several questions with no immediately obvious answers, chief amongst them the puzzle of how merely reading from a scrap of paper could bring about such an effect.

His eyes followed as two members of the crowd began running in the opposite direction as their companions, charging at and then up the ziggurat, of all things. One - a human woman, if his eyes did not deceive him - reached the top first, followed almost immediately by a diminutive kobold that wasted no time in laying about with his claws. Elath could not see what - or whom, as the case may have been - the creature was flailing at, nor did he know whether the two were attempting a rescue or an assassination.

A familiar tingle burst to life in his mind, an urge to see what there was to see, and to protect those whose lives were in danger. Drawing his longbow from its place across his back, he too darted toward the ziggurat. A thrum of mental resonance greeted him as his fingers closed about the bow, his consciousness seeming to expand until it filled the entirety of the crystal-studded weapon. It was such a normal sensation to him that he did not even consider it, simply allowed his mind to flow out past its normal boundaries and embrace the almost self-aware crystals.

Feet pounding on the closely-placed stone steps, he all but flew up one side of the sacrificial building, pouring a minute portion of his mental reserves into the bow as he went. He had ascended nearly half of the staircase before he had a clear view of the top, and it took several more steps before he beheld the form of the kobold and the woman. A man, seemingly driven to the same depths of insanity as the rest of the crowd, dealt the woman a solid blow with a fist. Though his armor gleamed with gilding, Elath saw that his helmet had been removed, and he immediately drew and nocked an arrow from one of the three quivers at his waist.

He could not know for certain who, if anyone, was making an attempt on the emperor's life, but the man had struck an apparently helpless woman, and that at least deserved some form of retribution. Metallic blue eye staring down the length of the goosefeathered shaft, he brought his bow up and aimed in the direction of the man's head. An instant's thought was all it took to transfer some of the energy from the bow to the arrow, making the projectile hum with a semblance of the same mental force, and then he let fly his bringer-of-death.

Attack: [roll0]

Damage: [roll1] + [roll2]

Expended 2 pp to use the deep crystal's effect.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina staggers back, shaking her head. Blinking the stars out of her eyes, she immediately puts as much distance between herself and the guard. That hurt. Still, she'd been close. She could feel that much. His mind wanted peace... and the fury and rage was strong, but not impossible. She could do this; she focused her mind on him, and again tried to protect the man from the madness.

Just as she began to focus, she glances at the others up here... a kobold and elf. Clearly not affected by the madness, clearly looking for answers to the obvious questions... Good. Keeping the Emperor alive seems crucial at this stage. Still, the guard doesn't need to die, she can do this... "Wait! I- I'm pretty sure I can pacify him. He's lost his mind, whatever that man did to him, to all of them.... he doesn't want this! Just- give me a moment, I can do this!"

[MisterSaturnine]

Elath's psionically-charged arrow whizzes by the bodyguard who simply growls in reply. He turns for a moment towards Elath, his hands clenched into fists, and then turns his gaze back to Melina. Clearly, he did not appreciate the mind-meddling. He charges at Melina again, but is stopped by the Emperor, who picks up the shaft of a spear and trips his bodyguard with it.

"If you have to, kill him. But if you can avoid it...do."

The bodyguard hits the ground with a loud thump and lets out another savage roar. He stumbles to his feet and the Emperor does the some. As the Emperor stands, however, he lets out a gasp of pain and falls again to the ground. The bodyguard lashes out his prone body, grabs hold of him by the arm and pulls him up by it, twisting it painfully, and then grabs ahold of the other arm as well. The Emperor tries to struggle away, but the only result is his bodyguard giving him a fierce headbutt to the nose. If you're close enough, you hear a sickening crack. The Emperor lets out a moan and his eyelids flutter as he struggles to remain conscious.

[Gorgondantess]

Here I am now.
Smells like blood spirit. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UnuHJZMdako&NR=1)

Sariel stands in the crowd, trying to find something to do. He'd already seen last month's sacrifices, and was about to leave before this one, but he waited too long to buy some rations and now he'd have to wait for the ceremony to finish.

The man speaks of his crimes, and Sariel yawns.

The man shrieks and his blood sprays, and Sariel shuffles his feet.

He accosts a woman, but she ignores him for the festivities; he sighs, and watches with vacant interest. He should've hit the road yesterday.

A speech. Same old thing.

Oh. Well, that's new.

For a moment Sariel stands there, just watching. So... should I... do something?

He watches a man bite out the throat of a young boy, brows furrowed. Now that's interesting. The blood oozes out over the ground, the boy still writhing. Sariel glares, laying his hands together over his head and drawing them apart, a smoky grey, thin, curved blade appearing, flickering red. He finishes off the kid, abd runs up the ziggurat for a better look.

Call the heart's blade, wrath.

[MisterSaturnine]

Second Will save: [roll0]


Just as the bodyguard is about to land another blow on the helpless Emperor--perhaps the last--Melina's power hits. The bodyguard's roaring fades to a whimper and he drops the Emperor, falling to his feet. After a while, he curls up into the fetal position, weeping. The Emperor, one hand on his injured nose, bleeding heavily, crawls over to his bodyguard.

"It's alright, Dimas...it's g-going to b-be alright..." He wraps his arms around Dimas, wincing in pain as he does so, and cranes his head to face Melina.

"Thank you. N-now we have to get out of here...r-round up...survivors..."

Sariel
The few remaining members of the guardsman atop the ziggurat immediately turn their attentions to you the moment you manifest the blade of wrath. Their armor is beaten up and so are they, but the rage in their eyes in undiluted. Growling like wolves, they run at you and start looking you over, fascinated at the blade, pawing and biting at it.

They've all taken a run action to make their way to you.

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel smirks, readying his blade. He holds it back, narrowing his eyes as the world slows around him. Everything is stilled, dulled, predictable- the men's weaknesses are clear to see, their blunders, the fact that the third fellow on the left has a sore shoulder- when time moves so slowly, everything is clear to see.
He returns his blade in front of him, and it flashes and flickers blue, ready to stab at the nearest opponent.

Accelerated mind stance, +1 to attacks, damage, saves, AC & +10' move speed.
Blowing 2 pp for keen enhancement on the blade until end of turn.
Readied action to hit the nearest guy with sapphire nightmare blade.
Concentration check:[roll0]
Attack roll:[roll1]
damage:[roll2] +SNB:[roll3]
Potential critical:[roll4]
Well, those are some mediocre rolls. Let's hope the flat-footed helps out.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

"Emperor, we need to go! It's taking almost everything I have to maintain this; even just talking is difficult without losing control. As it is, I'm going to have re-establish this in a few minutes, and I can't afford to do that many times. We need to go, now!

If any of them are very important, I may be able to add one more. I can't manage more than that! I'm sorry... even one more is going to be hard, too, if we have to go far I really should just stay with one... I'm so sorry."

[MisterSaturnine]

Melina

The decision seems to pain the Emperor greatly and he eventually angrily spits out,

"L-leave him. Get rid of him somehow...h-he's already dead. Our f-first responsibility...is to s-save those...who've already been spared. We c-can't let...that opportunity...g-go to waste."

The Emperor tries to get up again and simply collapses.

"Damn it!" The Emperor holds his head in his hands. "I can't stand this. I feel so p-powerless."

Sariel

One of the guardsmen lashes out at your face, fingers looking ready to gouge out your eyes. Your return attack just barely connects, hitting right between two interlocking chains and sending the blue energy of the sapphire nightmare blade into one of the guards' bodies. The guard lets out a little yelp and steps backward, as the other five let out their own attacks.


You get an attack of opportunity against one of them.

Guard 1 attack roll: [roll0]
Guard 1 damage roll: [roll1]

Guard 2 attack roll: [roll2]
Guard 2 damage roll: [roll3]

Guard 3 attack roll: [roll4]
Guard 3 damage roll: [roll5]

Guard 4 attack roll: [roll6]
Guard 4 damage roll: [roll7]

Guard 5 attack roll: [roll8]
Guard 5 damage roll: [roll9]

Guard 6 attack roll: [roll10]
Guard 6 damage roll: [roll11]

Total damage: 11


Most of the blows miss, pinging off your armor or hitting nothing but air as you deftly move out of the way, but two of them land. One of them is fairly inconsequential, but the other is quite painful indeed, pegging you right in the temple. You retaliate with a quick rapier strike, cutting the crazed guardsman across shoulder.

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel steps back slowly, realizing he is outmatched. These bruisers were clumsy, but several large men attacking him is still several large men attacking him.
The blade dissipates, and he smirks, crouching down and leaping into the air. And he just keeps going... and going...
Levitation, psionic, moving 20' straight up, baby!:smalltongue:

[Salvonus]

--post coming--

Move Action: Go to Emperor's side.
Standard Action: Manifest Empathic Transfer (4 pp).

[roll0]

Absorb up to 4 points of dex damage.

[MisterSaturnine]

The Emperor's foot, which had been visibly twisted in the wrong direction, clicked back into place, the stretched sinews returning to their normal position. The Emperor breathed a sigh of relief and shakily held out a hand to pat the kobold on the shoulder.

"Th-thank you. You'll be rewarded for this...you all will be..."

[Schism]

Elath Teslenar

Elath had been readying himself to create a protective barrier around the emperor, already starting his mind down the paths necessary for bringing to life the swirling gobs of ectoplasm, when the kobold laid its hands on the man and manifested a power whose nature he could not quite grasp, but which seemed to alleviate much of the emperor's discomfort. He said something to the kobold, but Elath did not catch the exact words, being as far away as he was.

His aid no longer required, Elath instead turned his attention to the group of guards situated around... nothing? Blinking, Elath raised his eyes skyward, and saw that another elf was currently floating some twenty feet above the heads of the afflicted guardsmen. So, all four of the still sane beings around the emperor had at least some form of mental abilities. That could hardly be a coincidence, could it?

Nocking another arrow, Elath funneled another trickle of power through the crystalline structure of his bow; the steel head hummed noisily in response, then began vibrating as, with a surge that left him in something of a daze, he channeled his mental focus into the projectile as well. This he fired at the closest of the guards, aiming more to injure than to kill, though kill he would if it was necessary.



Attack: [roll0]

Damage: [roll1] + [roll2] + [roll3]

Expended 2 pp to use the deep crystal's effect, and psionic focus to activate Psionic Shot.

[MisterSaturnine]

Although Elath had meant to merely injure, pure psionic power often seems to have a mind of its own. Propelled by the ardent's mental energy, the energy rippling the air around the arrow as it flew through the air. With a loud "CRUNCH!" and some disturbing squelching noises, the arrow pierces through the back of one of the guards' heads, the point emerging out of his forehead. The guard wordlessly collapses on the ground.

The guards, just giving up on reaching towards their airborne target, turn their attentions to Elath. They charge towards him and surround him, letting out yet another feral roar.

They use their actions to run in front of Elath. Not close enough to attack on a charge--sorry about that.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina mutters to herself, "Leave him? **** that! That was hard to do, I'm not letting it go to waste!"

Melina slips her psicrystal from her pocket, Crawley immediately climing over her hand and up her arm. With a quick thought, she delicately transfers the power holding the guard to the crystal, freeing her to defend them.

Solicit Psicrystal, augmented to 7 PP for 9 rounds of psicrystal concentration.

Turning to face the mob who have swarmed the other elf, Melina deftly transfers her own focus to one of them. "God damn him. Why did he do that, these poor people...", she thinks to herself. As her frustrations with the impossible situation mount, her anger reaches a brilliant point in her mind, and she sighs as she focuses that point into the mind of one of madmen. "Damn it..." she sighs as she feels her own mentality skewer the mind of the elf's assailant.

Mind Thrust, Empowered, Augmented - 7 PP, 5d10*1.5 damage:
Roll in OOC thread, 33 damage.

[MisterSaturnine]

Melina's blast of mental energy is powerful indeed. One of the guards attacking Elath--the one wedged between two others--lets out a shriek of pain that starts feral and then shifts briefly into a human one before he falls silent, his eyes roll back into his head, and he collapses in a heap at Elath's feat.

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel watches over the goings-on as he concentrates; [roll0] shining crystalline arrows spill into his hand, and he calmly, relaxedly, makes a sort of motion to sit down in the air, taking the longbow from his back and stringing it on his foot. The then takes one of the arrows, and draws...
7 pp Bolt for the 2d4 +3 arrows, drawn bow.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina now settles into the mental and emotional gymnastics that she has come to master. She does away with the raw emotion that fueled her attack, and composes herself, regaining the all-important focus that powered her abilities.

Move Action: Concentration check to regain Psionic Focus (DC 20) = [roll0]

But this was not the academy, and this was not some practical examination. She was on top of the great ziggurat of Telos, defending the Emperor from his own guards, after having witnessed the only other person she'd ever known to share her powers, kill the Blood Spirit. This was not a day for calm and composure, and the focus she was taught to maintain and had learned to burn and regain, slipped from her grasp. She would have to do without.

She sighed again, and began lining up the next attack in her mind. She'd overspent herself on the last attack; it had been wild, much of the energy had been entirely wasted, and the man's mind had still snapped easily. She needed to pace herself, or she'd be completely powerless soon. Well... not completely powerless, but if she'd needed to be secretive about her other powers before, after today's performance, those were going to have remain unused.

This time, she knew, her teachers would have been thrilled with her performance. They never liked her wild ways, as much as they'd been forced to accept their efficacy and her mastery of them. But none of that was in this attack; straight-up textbook maneuver here, as she attacked the next guard.

Standard Action: Mind Thrust, 4 PP, 4d10 damage, DC 17 = (4d10)[26] (roll in OOC)

[MisterSaturnine]

Guard's will save: [roll0]

Melina
Another guard (the one directly behind Sariel) groans, clutches his temples, and falls to the ground. His eyes are open and twitching for a bit, but they quickly close as he slips into unconsciousness, convulsing here and there.

Posting in Schism's stead.

Elath
Elath sizes up the remaining guards around him and summons up a shining stream of ectoplasm, which he shapes into a solid wall of pure energy, trapping both him and the crazed guardsmen inside. Too canny to outnumber himself, he mutters a command word, activating his anklet and pulling him through a fold in space, dropping him off just outside the barricades.

7 pp used to manifest wall of ectoplasm.

[Salvonus]

"Damn it! I can't stand this. I feel so p-powerless."

With his opponent seemingly neutralised by the strange woman's mental manipulation, Takk spun towards the source of the complaint - the wounded emperor, lying prone on the ziggurat steps. The kobold could find no spark of defiance in the eyes of the broken man; he seemed completely shattered by the grievous wounds inflicted upon both his body and his mind. To see one's trusted colleagues and servants turned against him... Takk could feel the pain and helplessness of the Télosian monarch, the man's mental anguish and physical agony radiating from his fractured form.

The Knight-Errant of Narland could feel his battle-focus slipping, could feel his mind giving way to unwanted emotions. Y'iktali, Takk'vakkan'irtala's once-mentor, had always told the young kobold that an overdeveloped sense of empathy would be the downfall of any true warrior. Even now, Takk could sense an emotional outburst on the horizon; struggling to suppress his sense of compassion, Takk let out a guttural growl. In truth, his calculating warrior-mind knew that he had lost this battle; the kobold was too weak of emotional fortitude, too prone to idealism.

Takk knew that he could not reject the plea of the Emperor; even as the kobold's battle-focus warred with his idealistic tendencies, Takk's ever-energetic legs sprang towards the wounded man. Even as his mind moderated the schism between his calculating and empathic selves, Takk could feel the familiar surge of energy building up in his mind. Finally silencing his mind completely, the kobold marshalled his reserves of cerebral puissance.

With a swift motion, the kobold reached his hands out to touch the wounded monarch. In his mind's eye, the kobold could visualise each source of physical anguish within the pulverised man. The ankle, twisted nearly beyond comprehension, the continuity of his body's essential energies disturbed by some grievous injury. Takk's empathic self made an instantaneous decision, overriding his fundamental sense of self-preservation - after all, was true civilisation not about overriding baser, animal instincts and exploring the depths of demi-humanoid capability? At the very least, Takk believed that, if only because it allowed him to rationalise his next action.

Without a second thought, Takk violently merged his psycho-metabolic essence with the Emperor's corporeal form. With a surge of metaphysical strength, Takk subsumed the human's ankle-wound into a singular pool of energy. The kobold winced slightly in anticipation of imminent pain - he'd always hated this part. Merging his psycho-metabolism with his psychic projection, Takk could feel the corruption of injury assaulting his physical integrity. Even as the Emperor's ankle snapped back into its natural state, the kobold's corresponding limb began to twist into a cruel bastardisation of its proper form.

Takk'vakkan'irtala had one advantage over the Emperor when it came to absorbing pain - years upon years of training and self-discovery in the arts of mental fortitude. The kobold's immaterial infrastructure could resist the suffering attributed to such violent lacerations. Takk could feel his ankle become a mangled mockery, but the pain was non-existent - albeit temporarily suppressed rather than permanently dispelled.

Even as the Emperor muttered words of gratitude, Takk did not break his single-minded dedication to fulfilling his self-appointed, idealism-dictated duty. Immediately, his consciousness merged with the Emperor's body once more. Tapping into his psychic reserves, the kobold began to draw the Emperor's wounds into another holding pool. Without subtle complaint or hesitation, Takk absorbed the human's corporeal perversion into his own mentally-bolstered psychometabolism. With a sigh of combined relief and satisfaction, Takk noted that no damage was sustained by his fundamental form; his earlier procedure of psycho-metabolic strengthening had been sufficient to absorb the Emperor's wounds.

"Can you run now, sssir?" Takk inquired, his accent as thick as ever. The kobold's face broadcasted his pained efforts to regain his concentration and battle-focus, providing a fascinating contrast to the continued and sickening twisting of his now-mangled leg. With a final gut-wrenching snap, the kobold's leg assumed its vulgar imitation of the Emperor's previous injury. "Ssshall we exit the premisssesss?"

[roll0]

[MisterSaturnine]

The Emperor's pained expression eased into a look of relief. He gave a tight-lipped smile and a determined nod as he returned to his feet.

"I think that would be an excellent idea."

The Emperor jogged over to an abandoned spear, reveling in his ability to walk, and went back to Takk's side.

"We need to get to the palace. There's...well, there's some important things down there, and it will keep us safe. When I arrive, I'll be able to signal the military barracks, and they'll subdue this mob. Gather the others, and if you could, try and figure out a way to get Dimas--my bodyguard--to come with us. While still subdued, somehow."

He began to walk down the ziggurat, then stopped dead in his tracks for a moment before turning back to face Takk.

"Oh, and kobold...thank you. You may call me Iván. Sir is for superiors."

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

"OK, we're leaving? Sounds good to me. Lead on, Emperor, I'll take care of Dimas."

Melina concentrates on the mind of the guard, carefully picking through his fears and desires. Glancing around, she chooses a color that she notices none of them are wearing, and carefully places a slight aversion to this color in Dimas's mind, while simultaneously coordinating with Crawley, who shifts the sensory input to leave Dimas in a 60 foot circle of the opposite color, and everything outside the circle in the averted color. The psicrystal then allows the man to see his surroundings, encouraging him to get up, peacably, and follow them.

I'll use the False Sensory Input to keep Dimas surrounded by the color he's avoiding, and move the circle to make him move in the direction I want him to. He should walk with us. Credit to Salvonus for this great idea.

[MisterSaturnine]

Dimas perks up his head, startled by the shifting colors, his ability to see more clearly, and the color he now despises. He lets out something between a whimper and a growl, shakily stands up, and starts walking out of the circle as Melina expected. He'll now walk away to wherever his false sensory input dictates.

The Emperor nods and begins leading the way, walking carefully down the ziggurat, careful not to bother fighting civilians on the way down. He makes his way through the criss-crossing Télosian streets, until he stands in front of the gilded palace that had been peeking up from the skyline before. The two guardsmen standing at the entrance to the palace step aside as they see him approach, falling to their knees, bowing their heads, and saying in a matter-of-fact voice,

"Your Eminence."

"Crisis. 'Tonio, Felíz, please alert the military advisor. As I'm sure you can tell by the red sky...something has gone wrong. Tell him to gather our military at the ziggurat, and have them fan out to gather and subdue the crazed populace. Non-lethally, if possible."

One of the guardsmen picks up his head, eyebrow raised in concern.

"Crazed populace?"

"Just do it. You'll find out what the matter is."

The Emperor walks up to the enormous palace gates, pushes them open, and walks in. He walks down to his own bedroom--just as enormous and opulent as the rest of the palace and pulls up a tiger-skin rug. Underneath is a crystal trap-door with a hand-print perfectly carved into it. He leans over, presses his hand in the print, and the crystal glows slightly before retracting into the floor. A crystal staircase starts jutting out from the tunnel under the trapdoor, also glowing to provide light.

"Welcome to the Imperial Vault. You are now one of five other people, including myself, who knows about its existence. And won't be disappeared for that knowledge."

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Whispering to whoever's closest "I wonder if he counts the cleaning people as one of the five?"

[MisterSaturnine]

The Emperor forces out a chuckle.

"There are now cleaning people. I try to tidy up on occasion, but...it's dusty down there. But yes, the only people who know about this place's existence and are still alive are me, you four, and my Magical Advisor. Come on down."

The Emperor descends the staircase and into a large room, lit by torchlight as well as the glowing crystal stairs. The walls are covered in books, divided into sections that aren't entirely clear. Strange looking artifacts sit atop pillars spread throughout the room. The Emperor opens up a chest at the back of the room, rooting through minor magical objects, and retrieves four brown leather belts that look ordinary enough, with three small white crystals studding the front.

"Each of you take one of these belts. They will allow you to heal yourself over the course of the day."

The Emperor then takes something out of the pocket of his robes...the scroll.

"I picked this up as soon as I could...though I suppose there's nothing we can do with it."

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina's eyes light up as she sees the scroll, though she does manage to avoid out-right gasping. She steps forward immediately, and, remembering herself and her company, says, "Perhaps not, but... I, for one, intend to find out what happened out there... if you have no further use for it, perhaps I- or we, if anyone else is interested? -might be able to find someone who can decipher it?"

Melina, of course, is lying through her teeth here. Bluff roll: [roll0]

I should think everyone would base how obvious it is that she stepped forward too quickly (or not) on the roll.

[Salvonus]

Accepting the belt with a grin of acknowledgement and thanks, Takk shuffled in closer to the Emperor. Peering at the object for a moment, a strange thought appeared in the kobold's mind. Drawing upon his studies of the gateway between mind and matter, Takk recalled that physical entities in the intimate possession of others tend to accumulate psychic impressions of their owners. While the kobold had little skill in prying into the metaconsciousness of the material world, his memory seemed to indicate that many Seers were capable of mastering this art.

"Iván... Do you have any Ssseersss in your employ? Cccertain adeptsss of clairsssentient ability are able to read the psssychic impressssssionsss that ressside within the material realm (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/psionic/powers/objectReading.htm)." Takk inquired. A small smile appeared on his face as a secondary thought came to mind. "Agh, out of interessst, do you have anything capable of healing a twisssted limb?"

[MisterSaturnine]

The Emperor shakes his head and looks around at the other objects in the room before his eyes settle on a length of chain adorned with strange symbols. He grabs the chain, and begins tying up Dimas as he says,

"I'm afraid I don't have anything to heal your leg, kobold, but that is an excellent idea. Our best Seer doesn't reside in the palace, unfortunately...she's quite eccentric, and her house is on the Alacrán Hills. Technically, her house is inside the Alacrán Hills. I'm sure she'll be able to tell us what we need to know and more. Her name is...well, we know her by La Ciega. Which reminds me--"

He finishes tying up Dimas and turns back towards our four intrepid heroes.

"What are your names?"

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina looks up, surprised to realize that he is right, she did not know them. In the excitement, she'd completely forgotten about introductions.

"Ah, Melina, sir. From Srisotha, a village in the Venuvana jungle; I studied Telepathy at Devaksetra Academy..."

OK, here are some Kn:Psionics, Kn:Arcana, Psicraft, and Spellcraft checks for what, if anything, Melina may have recognized about Dimas's condition while she was in there tampering with his mind:

Kn: Arcana
[roll0]

Kn: Psionics
[roll1]

Spellcraft
[roll2]

Psicraft
[roll3]
I'm going to say that she recognized it as an Enchantment and not a Telepathic effect (not that this wasn't already obvious to her), but gained no more insight into the effect.

[MisterSaturnine]

The Emperor nods. "Melina. Thank you very much for your help with Dimas. And as I told the kobold--you've done too much to have to call me sir. I am Iván. Now, I just have this feeling...what do you know about this scroll? You don't need to worry about punishment--unless of course you reveal that this whole catastrophe was your doing--but I get the feeling there's something you're not telling us. What do you know about this?"

He holds out the scroll.

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel toys with his summoned missiles as they go along, surly at his innefectuality. When the belts are handed out, he holds out a hand, pushing it away. "I prefer to remain self-sufficient. Trinkets are so very fallible." With that, he closes his eyes for a moment, and his wounds fade.
"My name is Sariel. I'm from... around, I suppose."
Body adjustment, [roll0] HP.

[MisterSaturnine]

"Well, Sariel, it's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for your help on the ziggurat. You, and the others, will be rewarded for your efforts. Which reminds me--what do you all want? I might be able to grant certain wishes. If you want payment, I can give you that, certain information is at my beck and call...you get the idea."

[Schism]

Elath Teslenar

Elath accepted the proffered belt readily, grinning like a fool and dipping his head in thanks. One could hardly do otherwise when in the presence of royalty, after all. Perhaps the other Elf had not learned as much of human customs in his travels. The thought of rejecting the belt did not so much as flicker across Elath's mind, despite the fact that he valued his own belt even more highly than one that could do what the Emperor described.

"Thank you, sir - Iván, rather," Elath said, bobbing his head in an approximation of a bow. "As for me, my name is Elath Teslenar. I imagine some others know me by different names, but that is not a story made for telling at this time. As for where I come from... I too have no permanent residence, though I once called Aeruti home."

[Salvonus]

"Asss for myssself, I am Takk'vakkan'irtala, a warrior-sssage in the ssservice of Narland. You might find it bessst to call me 'Takk', for I find that thisss language of humansss isss not overly efficccient in pronouncccing the namesss of my people." Takk replied, a small smile gracing his lips, "My travelsss to thisss fair land are peaccceful and for the purpossse of persssonal ssstudy, I can assssssure you. Truth be told, I find myssself fassscccinated by the Télosssian cccivilisssation, and wisssh to learn more.

Considering the Emperor's words for another moment or two, Takk continued. "I am not one who isss in thrall to trinketsss or in sssearch of rewardsss, I mussst ssstresss. Payment isss found in the intrinsssic moral value of a deed - for me, at leassst. Thusss, the only requessst I have to make is for you to explain the sssituation asss you know it - including the exact nature of the Blood Ssspirit. While it isss true that I am in the ssservice of another monarch, I would pledge to you that anything sssensssitive that isss told to me will remain in confidenccce."

Pausing to wait for a reply, a quick thought flashed through Takk's mind. "Asss an assside, how far are the Alacrán Hillsss from here?"

[MisterSaturnine]

The Emperor nods, pained slightly.

"The Blood Spirit...yes. The Blood Spirit has given life to our lands for centuries. This isn't known by many, but Télos is not naturally a prosperous land. The grasses, the beautiful trees, the fertile earth...all of it is because of the Blood Spirit. You see, he is a spirit of sacrifice, of, well...bloodlust. Though he is a very powerful, he is also perhaps the most mortal of the spirits, the most vulnerable to attack. He doesn't just hunger for blood...he needs it. To survive. But my family struck a deal with the Spirit a long time ago. In exchange for giving him sacrifices to assuage his hunger every month, he gives his power to our lands, infuses them with his body. He makes our crops grow and our animals fat and free from sickness. And another part of the deal--when you become the Emperor, you are bonded to the Blood Spirit. His thoughts are your thoughts, and your thoughts are his. I have been able to speak to the Blood Spirit since my father died and I was brought to the throne at 14 years old. But now...I can't hear him, except for this muted...shrieking. It's awful. But things now are nothing compared to how bad things are going to be. Without the blood spirit, all of our prosperity will wither on the vine. The land will return to being a barren wasteland. And--no offense meant to those of you who hail from Sorasen--but I have no doubt that the Council of Six will seize upon that opportunity to take more of the human lands."

He pauses for a moment, battling with conflicting thoughts, before sighing and addressing Takk's last question.

"The Alacrán Hills are about a week's trek south. Maybe four days if you never stop to rest, but that would be...unwise. There are things in the hills that are best dealt with when you are at your peak. Let me put it this way--in native Télosian, alacrán means scorpion. And there are big scorpions in the Alacrán Hills."

[DragoonWraith]

Melina


The Emperor nods. "Melina. Thank you very much for your help with Dimas. And as I told the kobold--you've done too much to have to call me sir. I am Iván. Now, I just have this feeling...what do you know about this scroll? You don't need to worry about punishment--unless of course you reveal that this whole catastrophe was your doing--but I get the feeling there's something you're not telling us. What do you know about this?"

He holds out the scroll.
Melina takes the scroll, and looks over it carefully before answering.
Spellcraft check to decipher the scroll (a nat-20 might do it?):
[roll0]

Did not get a nat-20. Got an unnat-20. The forum is laughing at me. At any rate, that could decipher the scroll if it was a cantrip, which that spell definitely was not.

After looking at the scroll, Melina rolls it up, and looks at the Emperor, and the others. "Well, si- Ivan, like I said, I studied telepathy in Devaksetra. I'm certainly no master, but... but I am sure that was not telepathy, at least as we were taught it there. Despite appearances, I mean, it certainly affected everyone's mind, but when I sought to becalm Dimas, it was not the simple mental tampering that I am familiar with.

"This", she says, holding up the scroll, "it seems involved in what he did, and so did the words he spoke and the gestures he made. The magic we learned does not involve these things; some wilders use them because they think they are necessary, but it has been shown that this is merely superstition, and even they can be taught to simply focus their mind and make the magic happen. But what this man was doing, he was no wilder, sir.

"The power he wielded, it didn't just come from his mind, though his own mental powers were involved. Just, from feeling him manifest the power, the actions his mind was taking seemed like just another form of gesture and chanting, his mind mimicking his tongue and hands, so to speak. All of that seemed to be... calling on the power he used, rather than applying his own. I do not know how familiar you are with the arts, sir, but while I couldn't really follow it, all of it just was... different. Very different."

Annnd, Melina's lying again. Bluff roll in OOC - 16


Considering the Emperor's words for another moment or two, Takk continued. "I am not one who isss in thrall to trinketsss or in sssearch of rewardsss, I mussst ssstresss. Payment isss found in the intrinsssic moral value of a deed - for me, at leassst. Thusss, the only requessst I have to make is for you to explain the sssituation asss you know it - including the exact nature of the Blood Ssspirit. While it isss true that I am in the ssservice of another monarch, I would pledge to you that anything sensitive that is told to me will remain in confidenccce."
"Err... I would also be very interested in this, Takk, Ivan, any information in that area could be illuminating... but if we're going to be traveling together, and you have the ability to take damage onto yourself - I want you to have the healing belt. Because if we need you to do that again, I want you to be able to mend yourself afterwards."

[MisterSaturnine]

Melina
Yep. You find out nothing about the scroll, other than the fact that it's arcane, which you knew.

Iván narrows his eyes and walks just a bit closer to Melina. He speaks softly, but a hint of frustration tinges his voice.

"Melina...you managed to save the life of my closest childhood friend, and for that, I thank you. But this is beyond a matter of simple friendship. This is a matter of the state. It might be bigger than that. I owe you a debt, but if you don't tell me what you know, I can guarantee that you will suffer for it. If not at my hands, then at the hands of whoever gave the orders to the man with the scroll. What do you know that you're not telling us?"

I...wrote closest childhood head. I don't...oh, god. I need to proofread more.

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel watches the altercation with narrowed eyes. His mouth sits just barely open, the corners tilted up in the slightest smile. His tongue flicks out of the corner of his mouth, and his eyes are rapt.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina blinks, and stammers, "I- but- " and she sighs.

"I told you what I know. His magic was different than, say, Takk's or Elath's or Sariel's. Different from the magic I used on Dimas, and on the other guards. It does involve channeling external power, rather than focusing your own mind and forcing your will on the real world. The chanting and the gesturing and the scroll, those are important, not just ceremonial. And I don't know what that power is or where it comes from. Nor do I know how he made that power do what it did."

She sighs again, under his withering glare. She assumes he already knows where she's going with this, but that does not make the next step any easier.

"Like I said... I told you what I know. I... did not tell you how I know it... I know... You see... It's like this..." and she sighs yet again. There's just no good way to say this.

"I know because of this:"

And she summons a Celestial Monkey, putting on a show, exaggerating the gestures and the chanting.

Melina directs the monkey for several seconds, speaking to it in Celestial, have it perform a few tricks, and then sighs, speaks a few soft words, and dismisses it.

"I was sent to Devaksetra because this magic scared my elders. I was going to go there any way; most of the villagers have studied there, but instead of the quiet pride that was supposed to go with the journey, there was only fear. And at the academy, fear and distrust, at least until I shut them all up by mastering their magic." Another sigh, "I'm better at their magic than I am at my own... Anyway, I left Devaksetra to find my own way in the world, to try to learn more about my magic. I came to Telos because I thought the ritual of sacrifice to the blood spirit might be similar to the small rituals I use to channel my magic... but it was not. At least, I'm fairly certain it was not. But what that man did, that was the magic I use, though at a massively more grandiose and horrific scale than anything I have done.

"I really don't know anything more than I have already told you. My magic comes naturally to me, I never learned it, as such. Everything I know about it, came purely as trial and error. The languages that I use for it, I have never heard any other creature use them, and nothing in the academy's library sounded even remotely like them. But I suddenly knew three entire languages that I'd never heard any one else speak, and my magic responds to these words.

"And... that's it. All I know. No lies, no withholding information." she gives a wry laugh, "And since I spent almost all my power defending you and saving Dimas, I am close to helpless..."

[MisterSaturnine]

The Emperor is clearly disturbed by her display of power, his jaw clenched, his eyes wide, but after a while, he shakes this off and speaks again, though fear still tinges his voice.

"Thank you for telling me this. I believe you. And I'm very glad I have you on my side."

He rubs his eyes. It's been a long day.

"And what of you, Sariel? What would you like as compensation? And I do insist on the healing belts. If one of you doesn't want to use them, then the others can split the uses between them."

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel narrows his eyes again. "I will take this is my compensation: a favor yet to be determined. You will do one thing for me; one thing. No more, no less, and at a time of my choosing. Agreed?"

[MisterSaturnine]

The Emperor's mouth stays slightly open for a bit, understanding he's dealing with someone very dangerous, then nods.

"Fine. One favor. I am a man of my word, and I will not cheat you out of what you deserve when the time comes. And what of you, Elath?"

[Schism]

Elath Teslenar

Elath raised a single, slender eyebrow, surprised to find himself included.

"I would not ask a boon of you, Iván, but that you insist. What I did, I would do again, for any in your situation. A pair of arrows to replace those I fired earlier will suffice, if you like. If not, then I will manage without."

[MisterSaturnine]

The Emperor also raises an eyebrow.

"That is a...strange request indeed. But I'd be more than willing to oblige you. You may all spend the night here, to recover from whatever ills you can. In the morning, we'll give you a good map, the best horses we have in the stable, and a compass. Elath, you'll find two arrows at your bedside table in the morning. If you need anything, ask one of the servants. There are things I must attend to down here, alerting local districts of possible sabotage. You may pick any room in the palace you like."

[Schism]

Elath Teslenar

"As you say, Iván," Elath said, making another sketchy attempt at a bow. It wasn't as though he felt indebted to the man - the reverse would be true, if anything - but the offer of a night's rest on a mattress made for royal guests was mighty alluring for one who used a rock as a pillow more often than not.

"Ah, Takk," Elath said, pausing as he turned to leave. "I do not pretend to be so informed as you or Melina in regards to the intricacies of your - our - powers, but I could not help but notice that we share certain... talents. If you would like, we could discuss the differences between our styles at greater length before retiring to bed?"

[Salvonus]

"My thanksss to you, dear Iván." Takk replied in turn, the kobold's genuine gratitude evident in his voice. Truth be told, he felt a certain sense of relief over the Emperor's revelations regarding the Blood Spirit - even though the situation was quite dire, it was somehow comforting to Takk that the ritualised violence was done out of necessity rather than sheer bloody-mindedness. He did feel a certain sense of shame for having momentarily prejudged the Télosian people, but this minor guilt abated in the face of these new revelations. The kobold was quite comforted by the idea that Télos was a true bastion of civilisation, something of an embodiment of the ideals that he strove to bring to his people.

Takk did feel a certain sense of culpability for pledging his aid to someone who could be seen as a rival monarch to Nar. In his heart, however, the kobold knew that this was a quest that he must see through to the end - the lives of too many were at stake to worry about simple games of power. Besides, a war of predatory opportunity would hardly be beneficial to the emergence of civilisation - the time for conflict was over, and surely Iván would recognise the potential for peace with Takk's people.


"Ah, Takk," Elath said, pausing as he turned to leave. "I do not pretend to be so informed as you or Melina in regards to the intricacies of your - our - powers, but I could not help but notice that we share certain... talents. If you would like, we could discuss the differences between our styles at greater length before retiring to bed?"

"Cccertainly, dear Elath. I am sssure that you underessstimate your own knowledge." Takk replied, a wide, toothy grin appearing on his face. "Have you ever sssampled kia'kti tea? It hasss a ssslightly nutty flavour, if that would help jog your memory. I have been told that Elven merchantsss sssometimes purchassse it from my people. Anyway, I do have sssome with me - I find that it isss pleasssant to conduct a conversssation over, if you are interesssted in a beverage."

[Schism]

Elath let out an amused chuckle and started up the staircase. "I consider myself lucky if I can find a spring or a stream for fresh water most days, Takk. Tea is a luxury denied one as wont to lengthy wanderings as myself. I am willing to try anything once, however, so by all means."

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Elath looked around in something akin to confusion - not that a traveler as accomplished as he could ever be lost... of course not! - then turned to Takk with a wry smile on his lips.

"I'm afraid I don't know where the guest quarters are, exactly. Any ideas?"

[Salvonus]

"It appearsss that I am more fortunate in my wanderingsss than you, dear Elath, for I am alwaysss able to find a sssource of water. Of courssse, I do carry alchemical tabletsss to cleanssse it of filth." Takk replied, his grin growing wider. A rather large frown crossed his face, however, as his weight transfered onto his left ankle as he ascended up the stairs. The kobold's injured leg completely buckled under the strain, causing him to crumple to the floor.

Takk let out a small chuckle. "Dear Elath, alwaysss remember that pain exissstsss for a reassson. It isss the body'sss way of telling usss to ressspect our limitationsss. It isss a mechanisssm to prevent usss from causssing further injury to ourssselves. I am usssually able to completely sssupresss my pain through training of the mind, but, asss you jussst saw, that isss not alwaysss a good thing."

Dragging himself back to his feet, Takk let out a small sigh. "I do not know where the quartersss are, either. It isss ssslightly perturbing how we completely neglected to asssk about them. Nonethelessssss... You have a ssspirit of adventure, do you not? Let usss sssearch for them ourssselves."

[Schism]

"Some might call that an admirable outlook on life, Takk," Elath said somberly. "Myself, I've seen far too much suffering to find even the tiniest spark of good in it. I don't think I can heal an injury such as you brought into yourself - that is what you did, is it not? As I said, I am not as accustomed to these things as you or Melina - but there should be an infirmary of some sort around here. The tea and rest can wait, unless you insist otherwise."

[Salvonus]

"I, too, have ssseen much sssuffering, dear Elath." Takk replied, "In the end, one'sss outlook isss all that one can control with cccertainty. We may try to influenccce the world - asss we will likely attempt in the coming daysss - but the only conssstantly controlable factor isss how we approach our livesss."

"I do, indeed, bring the injuriesss of othersss on to myssself. That isss the nature of the technique that I have learned and trained myssself in. Psssychometabolic projection, or "Empathic Healing", as it isss often known. Perhapsss that isss the reassson for my worldview. I do not know. I have trained myself to sssupresss the pain, so perhapsss one could sssay that I am sssimply hiding from it." Takk continued, a sombre tone in his voice.

"My body lissstensss to my mind, for now. There isss no need to ssseek medical attention jussst yet. Come, let usss find a placcce where we can partake in tea."

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel remains in the room, beginning to get bored. However, as the kobold and the other elf begin to speak, he listens in hoping it might go somewhere interesting.

"I consider myself lucky if I can find a spring or a stream for fresh water most days, Takk. Tea is a luxury denied one as wont to lengthy wanderings as myself.
Hearing this, Sariel speaks up. "As a man who has spent his whole life on the road, I can tell you tea should be no problem to carry, so long as you remain well in finances. It is light, can be compacted, and if you get the right type a very small amount can last you years. Besides, I usually boil my water anyways; it's easy to make tea just as an aside." He reaches into his pack and tosses the man a bundle of the stuff. "Alas, as a man who enjoys a good wine, that is something I find very difficult to acquire."

When Takk stumbles on the stairs, Sariel grimaces, then waves a hand. "If you'd like, I could help you down. I have means at my disposal."

[Salvonus]

Takk chuckled in response to Sariel's interjection. "I do believe that dear Elath wasss ssspeaking of the difficulty of finding clean water, dear Sssariel. It isss a tribulation that I can empathissse with, cccertainly - I only learned to mitigate it in recent yearsss through the usssage of alchemical sssubstances."

The kobold gave Sariel a quick look of gratitude, a wry smile passing over his lips. "Thank you for your offer, good sssir. I believe I ssshall manage, though - I would not wisssh to requessst that you expend your mental ressservesss on frivolitiesss sssuch asss my inability to ssswiftly assscccend a staircassse."

With that, the kobold began to tackle the stairs with gusto. Having been reminded of the state of his ankle, the staircase posed no real challenge; Takk was still a dexterous little creature, and managed to quickly clamber up the stairs without another blemish.

"Do you wisssh to join usss, friend Sssariel?"

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel gets up, stretching his arms a bit. "Well, I don't suppose I have anything better to do; lead on, Sir Kobold."

[Schism]

Elath tapped an index finger against his pursed lips, not at all pleased by the addition of the second elf. He had intended to ask Takk about the intricacies of the kobold's healing capabilities, perhaps even go on at length on the possible reasons why his own were so different, but that possibility seemed to have flown out the window. There was something off about Sariel's presence; the disturbing calm he exuded, the disinterest he seemed to show in everything. Certainly not an attitude conducive to spirited conversation.

"As he said then, Takk," Elath muttered, barely concealing his disappointment. "That is, if you're certain you would rather not search out the infirmary; I may not be able to heal you with my powers alone, but a splint and some bandages should at least speed you on your way to recovery."

[Salvonus]

Immediately picking up on Elath's discomfort, Takk found himself afflicted with a corresponding degree of disappointment. The two elves seemed to be polar opposites, strangely enough, and Takk certainly felt more of an affinity towards Elath than the ever-calm and seemingly-cynical Sariel. The kobold took Elath's words as a bit of a hint - one that Takk was inclined to agree with.

Takk took a sharp intake of breath, mentally sighing at what he was about to do. The kobold was not a convincing liar, but he could certainly remove the need to lie. In a split second, Takk picked the mental locks that he had placed upon his nervous system and released his tightly-marshalled psychometabolic control. He winced slightly, preparing himself for the onrush of pain. A brief moment of lucidity inspired in him a foolish false hope of comfort, but his rational mind knew that it would not last. Indeed, a few seconds later, the full onrush of his suppressed affliction struck his senses. Takk crumpled to the ground in a yelp of agony - his body seemed to be overcompensating for his trickery, punishing his mind for attempting to evade its natural torment.

"I guessssss... my ssskill... failsss at timesss." Takk allowed himself a sad chuckle through his clenched teeth. "I... might take you up... on that offer."

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel stops as he nears the stairs, speaking drolly. "My my, you seem almost displeased at my presence, am I really so odious? I suppose if you'd like to be alone with Sir Kobold I'll just see if Ivan has a decent harem. I've never been much one for hired ladies myself, but if it's good enough for an emperor I daresay it's probably good enough for me." He says the last part matter-of-factly, speaking much in the same way he did about the tea, with his usual disinterest and calm.
EDIT: drats, ninja'd.
As Takk yelps, Sariel just sighs. "And you seemed to be such a trooper." He steps up the stairs purposefully, seeming to ignore Takk... and as soon as he is at the top, they switch places. "Now, is that good enough, or would you like me to help you on your way from here?"

[Salvonus]

"Th-thank you, friend Sssariel. I would not... trouble you further." Takk replied, gratefulness evident on his face.

(Damnit, edit-ninja'd.)

[Schism]

Elath's lips twitched - half-smirking, half-scowling - at Sariel's open and apparently honest comments.

"You are as you are; you have your merits, as do we all, I am sure. I would not judge one I scarcely know so harshly," he said, extending an arm to support Takk, should the kobold require it. "If your pleasure-seeking should take you past the guest quarters, do make a note of them. While there's every possibility we may stumble across them first, I would not stake much on that gamble; this is, I admit, one of the largest structures I have ever ventured into, and I do not place much confidence in my ability to find my way through it."

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

"Sariel, can you only move yourself like that? That's a cool trick. Uhm. Ya know, the creatures that I, err, make... they don't really seem to die, they disappear just before they die. So, uhm. If I were to do that, you could swap one with anyone in danger, could be valuable...."

And this is Melina feeling massively awkward but trying to stay in the group rather than being left out.

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel switches Elath and Melina. "Not necessarily, but it is rather limited." He puts his hands behind his back, raising his eyebrows formally. "Now, it is apparent I am unwelcome here. If that is not the case, do tell for fear of my making otherwise unfounded assumptions. If it is so, however, I will be off to search for a harem. Unless you'd be willing to try a night, that is; I prefer to keep these matters on a less professional level." Despite his talk of unprofessionality (is that a word?) Sariel speaks in a wholly professional tone, exuding the same uncanny calm and disinterest as always.
Well, I'm sure Melina won't be feeling awkward now! Also, I read somewhere that bluff is the skill that governs seduction; just for gits and shiggles: [roll0]
Well, you're going to have to sleep with him now. The numbers don't lie.:smalltongue:

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Absolutely shocked by Sariel, Melina reflexively spits a few words and makes a few quick hand motions, surrounding herself in a cocoon of soft light, an entrained automatic response to the sudden advance. "D-wha, whoa. No. Uh, as in, get away from me now, please. Not every creature I can call is as silly as the monkey."

Ray of Enfeeblement would have been funny, but somehow Protection from Evil seemed more fitting.

[Salvonus]

Takk chuckled lightly between his clenched teeth, wincing noticeably as the laughter-inspired vibrations brought renewed pain to his injured ankle. The kobold had reached his limit of pain tolerance, and believed that his self-inflicted social distraction had come to the end of its usefulness. Calming his mind, Takk began to reassert control over his body. His eyes closed momentarily as he visualised various metaphorical switches within his psychometabolic matrix; toying with them for a moment, he found the mercifully familiar trigger for his self-hypnotic suppression of pain. Within seconds, the agony had fled from his body; his nervous system had its complaints comprehensively silenced by an act of sheer mental discipline.

Rising to his feet, Takk grinned widely at the group. "Well, that'sss under control... For now. Ssstill, I think it'sss bessst for me to make my way to the infirmary."

A wicked thought crossed through the kobold's mind. He was not particularly impressed by Sariel's attempts at seduction, but feared that the young human girl might be susceptible to an evidently-experienced predator. Morbid embarrassment, on the other hand, might provide an excellent distraction for Melina. "While thisss disssplay of Elf-Human mating ritualsss is posssitively fassscccinating, I am afraid that I cannot wait around for the ssseemingly inevitable consssumation via copulation." Takk took on a studious tone of voice, inwardly chuckling, "Melina, ssshould your refusssal be genuine and not an act of what I have learned isss called 'bleeding them on', you may cccertainly traverssse thessse hallwaysss with Elath and myssself."

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

"I'm not leading anyone on. He sure as hell better keep his hands off me. I don't care what he does with willing girls, but I'm not. Thanks, let's go."

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel steps forward, showing the first display of true emotion; a wide grin on his face. He strides over to Melina, coming uncomfortably close, reaching out to snatch her wrist, drawing her close to him. He inhales deeply through his nostrils, almost smelling the air. "Ahhhh, Mel, that is what is known as an empty threat."
(This was intended to happen before Takk spoke up and Melina replied... not sure how to handle that.)

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

"Ya think so? I don't."

A few more quick words, and dark bolt launches from Melina's hands.

Ray of Enfeeblement:
To hit: [roll0]
Str penalty: [roll1]

[Salvonus]

Precariously balancing the majority of his weight on his uninjured leg, Takk rapidly sprung down the stairs. The kobold was not pleased at the turn that this interaction had taken - all pretence of social obliviousness and any amusement that he had derived from that rapidly began to vanish in the face of seemingly real conflict. Mercifully, that unidentified bolt of power launched by Melina had narrowly missed Sariel, but it appeared to the kobold like escalation was inevitable.

Swiftly arriving at the epicentre of the altercation, Takk's tiny hand reached up to lightly touch Sariel wrist. There was no force behind the movement, but there was a certain firmness to his physical presence.

"Come now, friend Sssariel. Releassse your grip on the girl, yesss? Go, enjoy your revelriesss and make merry. While I would never doubt the purity of your intent, you have made thisss young girl uncomfortable. Ssshe is most cccertainly not accussstomed to people sssuch as you," Takk's voice held an air of self-assured calmness. The kobold directed an intense, silencing stare Melina, broadcasting to her that she should cease any rash reactions. "It appearsss that will faccce death together, usss four. It would not do well to have sssuch sssilly misssunderssstandingsss ruin our chancesss, yesss? There isss no accusssation in my wordsss, but we mussst recognissse that we all have different levelsss of comfort."

[Gorgondantess]

As Melina fires off the ray, Sariel moves to grab her other wrist. He spins her around, laughing. He moves his head down to her, about to say something, when Takk speaks to him. He looks down at the kobold with raised bows and pursed lips, and replies. "Of course. It's all just some harmless fun... though I suppose that wasn't an empty threat after all." He bends his head down and kisses the girl on the forehead, then releases her, returning to his calm demeanor. "I suppose I won't try the harems after all."

[Salvonus]

As soon as Sariel released Melina's wrists, Takk shifted himself between the pair, not wasting a single second. The kobold lightly tapped the smooth curve of a single claw against her wrist in a gesture of reassurance.

"Thank you, friend Sssariel. Pleassse do be careful - I underssstand that there wasss no ill intent, but dear Melina ssseemed quite perturbed. We're all ssstill learning about each othersss boundariesss, of courssse." Takk replied, his previous calmness still ever-present in his voice and demeanour. "You may join usss, if you wisssh, but I'm afraid that you will not find the excccitement you crave. The treatment of ankle woundsss isss rarely an interesssting event. I must deign into the realm of ssselfissshnessssss now, however, asss my recccent... episssode indicatesss that my leg isss in dire need of sssome medical aid."

[MisterSaturnine]

A few guards have found their way over, and have been watching extremely cautiously from the sidelines. One walks closer to Sariel.

"Um, s-sir? We, um...there's a harem d-down the hall...to your left. If you'd like. It's the Emperor's, I mean, technically it's his, he n-never really uses it...I don't know, I g-guess it isn't really his thing...I, um...the b-bedrooms are all two floors upstairs. It's, um. It's just bedrooms. Up there. OK. Yeah. We can go, if you, um. If you want."

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina glares at Sariel.

"Don't do that again."

After hearing the guard, "Go, have your fun. Or don't, I don't care, but get away from me."

"Takk, I'll go with you. I'm actually rather curious about the magic you used to get yourself into this predicament..."

[Schism]

"No more interested than I, to be sure, Melina," Elath said, eying Takk with a curious gaze. The kobold was either a very good actor or truly capable of overcoming pain with naught but his mind, something Elath had never imagined. "However, I suggest we delay the discussion until we locate the infirmary. I would feel much more at ease plying questions if I knew Takk's injuries were being tended to."

[Salvonus]

"Thisss isss true - I would like to attend to thisss injury sssoon."

Realising that the group lacked a key bit of information, Takk shouted after the departing guard. "Pardon me, sssir, but could you direct usss to the infirmary?"

[MisterSaturnine]

The guard nods.

"Yeah, of course...um, the infirmary is, um...it's downstairs. You make a right down the big hallway, then another right when you see a door marked with three silver stripes. Hey, um...you're a kobold, right? You don't look tribal. Were you raised by humans or something?"

[Salvonus]

"Thank you for your aid, friend," Takk replied, a friendly tone in his voice, "Asss for my mannerisssmsss... My raccce is one that is on the cusssp of civilisssation, my dear friend. I wasss raisssed in a tribal environment, but I learned of civilisssation from a wandering tale-peddler and have moulded my life around that ideal. Perhapsss, sssomeday in the not-ssso-dissstant future, humansss, elvesss, and koboldsss will live in harmony. That would be my dream, at leassst."

"Ssstay well, my friend human," Takk shot a parting smile in the direction of the guard, gingerly striding off in the direction indicated.

[MisterSaturnine]

"Oh, um. Alright then. That sounds nice. I guess."

One of the other guards places his hand on the constantly-umming one and speaks up.

"Yeah, we're going to go now. Enjoy yourselves."

The group of guardsmen walks off down one of the many hallways, poking fun at the one guard for his awkwardness all the way.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

"For the record, that would have only sapped his strength for a few minutes. I just wanted him off of me, and I really wanted him to know I was serious."

[MisterSaturnine]

Morning comes. Elath finds his two arrows by his bedside, and each member of the group is awoken by guards who look quite stressed--they've probably just fully realized what's happened. They give each member a map to the Alacrán Hills and lead the group to the stables to pick out their horses. The Emperor himself is missing.

[Salvonus]

Still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Takk lazily stretched out his arms. Gingerly testing the extent of his body's natural healing, the kobold cautiously shifted the majority of his weight to his injured leg. His efforts were rewarded by a sharp pain suddenly shooting through his body, but that quickly subsided into something more akin to a dull ache. Satisfied by his body's progress, the kobold quickly turned his attention to re-asserting psychometabolic control over his pain receptors. Given the noticeably reduced intensity of pain, Takk hardly had to concentrate on suppressing it - his mind-body link had long since been trained to make such a task seem trivial.

Re-emerging from his introverted state of injury assessment, Takk looked around at the group assembled around him. Nobody seemed eager to take the initiative, although that may have been a function of exhaustion rather than a lack of interest on the part of his new-found allies. Making the person who appeared to be the stable-keeper, Takk resolved to set the group on their course as soon as possible. After listening to the revelations surrounding the nature of the Blood Spirit, Takk felt that a certain amount of urgency would be quite appropriate.

"Hail, friend Ssstablekeeper. By order of the Emperor, we are to conduct an important missssssion in hisss ssserviccce. I would humbly sssubmit a requessst for mountsss to you, friend. We are to travel to a dangerousss area, ssso we need sssteedsss of great vigor and fearlessssssnessssss." Takk paused, his accent resulting in his last word sounding quite drawn out. "But I would not requessst of you the bessst horsssesss in your employ, for I cannot ensssure their sssurvival. None of usss are of great ssskill with riding, so pleassse keep that in mind. Assside from that, I acquiesssccce to your expertissse."

[DragoonWraith]

I assume that we talked about our riding ability last night, otherwise Takk couldn't possibly have known that... though I believe Sariel wasn't there to discuss that even if we did?

Melina

Melina glares at Sariel when she sees him. "If you touch me again, I will not hesitate in leaving you to the scorpions. If anything, I'll make sure they have an easy meal."

[Salvonus]

No, Takk just made an assumption, given that nobody seemed to have an affinity for horses. Someone with actual knowledge of riding would have gone around and picked out one right away, but nobody was doing anything. :smalltongue:

I honestly didn't even check your sheets for Ride ranks. :smallamused: Takk just made an educated guess.

[MisterSaturnine]

The stablekeeper, an older man with a lazy eye and a large straw hat, nods and spits into a spittoon. He takes a moment to appreciate the "ding!" sound before answering his question, chewing as he speaks in a slow drawl.

"Yeah, I heard you were goin' out to the Alacran. I figured at first I'd just give you my least favorites, but I don't think the Emperor'd like that much since he's taken such a shine to you four. I think I figured out the right mounts for you, though, so just hang tight and I'll get 'em for you."

After accentuating his speech with another spit, he pulls out four horses, one at a time. One is pure white with a nasty looking burn starting from the left ear and stretching down to the jaw. The other two are both brown, but one is a lighter brown tinged with white, while the second is a dark brown--a big, commanding steed. The fourth is a black warpony.

"I figured the lizardman'd appreciate a tiny horse for his tiny self."

[Salvonus]

"My thanksss, friend ssstablekeeper." Takk replied, a grin on his grin. "Thisss ssshall sssuit me nicccely."

Takk turned to address his companions. "Friendsss, I sssuggessst that you choossse a mount that appealsss to you. We ssshould depart asss sssoon asss possssssible."

[Gorgondantess]

As Melina threatens him, Sariel just shrugs and starts to ignore her, finishing off the glass of wine he was drinking. He takes a washcloth and wipes the lip clean, setting it down. His lack of initiative was certainly due to lack of interest, in all things but the particularly fine wine he had requisitioned from the Emperor's private cellar. He had a full wineskin of it for the road.

As he sees the man and his antics, Sariel's face turns from disinterest to a look more akin to unamused. However, he strikes his feelings when presented with the animals. He steps forwards first, exuding an air of solipsism and dominance- a clear message for the others to watch and wait- as he examines the horses. "How did this white one get its scar?"

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Indicating the one with the burn, "What happened to this one?"

And glares at Sariel as he asks the same question at the same time.

[MisterSaturnine]

The stablemaster chuckles slightly and gives the scarred horse a pat on the rump.

"Well, one of the nobles around here used to have a stablemaster who had a reputation of, er...tough love. With his horses. By which I mean he'd beat sense into 'em. This girl's quite the troublemaker, so he eventually decided he'd burn some sense into her instead. Well, she didn't like that none, so she kicked him in the ribs and stepped on his head. Killed 'em right flat. The horse was going to be led to the chopping block, but the Emperor, along with all of his other inadequacies, is a sucker for a sob story. So he takes the horse in. She doesn't give me much trouble, so I guess the other guy was just dumb."

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel chuckles, grinning and shaking his head. "I'll take the spirited charger. There's a destrier in this one yet." He makes an amused look, and goes over to make friends.

[MisterSaturnine]

The stablemaster grins. "Glad you like her. Careful not to kill her...oh, and she scares when fire's near her. For obvious reasons, she doesn't like it one bit. So, I suppose the 'ol girl's yours now. If'n the lady doesn't mind. You junglefolk, girl?"

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

"Yes, I am. A small village called Srisotha, it's about three days from Devaksetra. I studied in the city for several years, though, and it's been a couple of years since I left the academy.

"And he can have her, I was just curious about the wound. Glad to hear she gave that moron what he deserved. Maybe she'll give this moron a bit of what he deserves..." as Melina glares some more at Sariel.

"I'll actually take whichever's going to give me the least trouble; I've never actually ridden a horse before... in the jungle, if you aren't walking on your own two legs, it's because you're climbing or swimming. Tough to get a mount through, and harder still to hunt anything while riding. So I'll need an easy horse, hopefully one that's not too skittish? I don't think I'd be able to stay on if my horse panics..."

[MisterSaturnine]

The stablemaster releases another gob of tobacco and spittle and gives another chuckle.

"Yeah, I figured at least some 'a you greenhorns'd be no good with horses. The two brown ones both won't give you any trouble. They're both good horses, and t'be honest, I'd 'a rather kept one of 'em, but they can't stand to be apart. Anyway, the big guy's Mack, and the one with the white's Mabel. Mabel can be a little more difficult sometimes, but she's got a sweet teeth. Give 'er some sugar and she's yours."

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

"Hmm... I think I'll take Mabel, then. Heh, less distance to go if I fall..."

Will cast Prestidigitation when I get a chance to do so in privacy, use it to make a bit of trail ration taste like sugar, and give it to Mabel.

[Gorgondantess]

So, ahh... any reaction from the horse? Do I get a sense of its attitude? Do I need a handle animal check?[roll0]
Nice roll.:smallbiggrin:

[MisterSaturnine]

Sariel
The scarred white horse turns its head towards you, not betraying any particular emotion--she would make an excellent poker player were she not, you know, a horse. As you near, she eyes you warily, sniffs you here and there, and prods you lightly with her nose. She then goes back to her daily business looking around and munching on grass. The stablemaster looks quite surprised.

"Huh. Didn't expect her to like you. Anyway, her name is Scar, if you didn't guess. The black pony's name is Shadow. Not because of the color, neither. See, I tried to get the most agreeable horses I could find--'cept for Scar, I just like to see 'er kick people around--and he has a habit of somehow managing to get out of the stable and follow you around."

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina says hello to Mabel, gently whispering to the horse in Celestial, which she finds to be a pretty language, and one which works for communicating with the nicer creatures she can summon (her summons being the vast majority of her experience with animals).

Handle Animal:
[roll0]

"Uhm. Are these trained for battle? At the least, we were led to expect a few encounters with some rather large scorpions?"

[MisterSaturnine]

Mabel looks at her quizzically but generally doesn't seem to feel a particular way about Melina.

The stablemaster shrugs.

"Maybe she'll like you better when you give 'er some sugar. Anyway, looks like Mack's goin' to elf number two. Wonder if he's as good with animals as number one. But yeh, they're warhorses, the lot of 'em."

[MisterSaturnine]

You trot out of town, led to the border by Télosian guards. The land is already beginning to feel less lush and inviting--maybe it's just your imagination, but it seems dustier, drier, harsher. There is occasional commotion in houses and alleyways as the military subdues still-crazed citizens or pull dead bodies out from ransacked homes. The feral are placed in chains and the dead in body bags, and then stacked in big mule-driven carts. Though the sky has returned to its normal color, the air is thick with tension.

The guards depart as you approach the border. A few speak up, wishing you luck on your journey in worried tones, as they leave. A dirt path is laid out between the border and the hills, and a wooden sign dictates the general direction.

The first two days of travel are essentially incident-free, but about halfway into the journey, the path disappears and grassy plains transform into rockier fare. You come across a small wooden sign just as the sun is setting indicating that you've just officially entered the Alacrán. Not long after night falls, an intense wind storm picks up blowing up dust and otherwise impeding travel, indicating it's probably best to set up camp.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina dismounts, recasts Prestidigitation and gives Mabel some sweetened trail ration, and begins setting up her tent.

I know, it doesn't help anyone get started, but at least there's a post...

[Schism]

"Ivan's horses are indeed well-bred to not balk in this weather," Elath commented, raising his voice to be heard over the wind storm. "Though I have traveled in worse before, I think it best if we follow Melina's example, lest we push our luck too far. Our mounts are apt to stumble and go lame in this terrain if they are distracted, especially at this hour."

So saying, he dismounted and tied his horse's reins to a nearby tree, so scraggly it appeared to be more a sapling than anything related to the towering wonders of his homeland. He didn't trust the plant to offer enough resistance to keep Mack from bolting should the storm worsen, but as there was nothing better within sight, he decided it would have to do.

Trusting that the training the horses had received for battle had also included sleeping with their saddles and gear in place, Elath removed his tent from its place at Mack's flanks and set to work.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina is tired, cramped, and sore. Mabel was gentle but Melina's not a rider.

"So, what's the protocol on watches during a sandstorm? I know we shouldn't sleep without a watch, but I don't think any of us are going to want to be outside and unprotected in this. Thoughts?"

[Gorgondantess]

As they start to camp, Sariel starts to heavily drink the wine, up to the point where he gets quite drunk; it was good, strong stuff. He slides into his tent without eating anything, full on wine, and tries to get some shuteye. After several hours of tossing and turning, hew feels a stirring of the loins... well, he's not going to get much sleep, might as well... blearily, drunkenly, he stumbles out of his tent and over to Melina's. She must be cramped in there... that's one small tent. He opens it, poking his head inside. "So... are you willing to try a night now?" Hearing no incantations, Sariel crawls into the tent, laying his lips to hers... and finding the cold, unyielding scales of an anthropomorphic reptile.

Sariel wakes up with a start and a cold sweat, furrowing his brows and blinking through his headache. What a dream... He stumbles outside, throwing up a good distance from the camp, and goes back into his tent to sleep off the rest of the night.

[MisterSaturnine]

Elath
The first watch Elath agreed to seems uneventful--nothing but hours of standing around in the brutal wind, dust and the occasional small rock getting kicked up into your face. A few hours into the watch, however, Elath's keen eyes pick something out in the darkness--the shape is vague, but hulking. Something--perhaps armor--shines faintly in the moonlight. It seems to be about 100 feet away.

[Schism]

Ivan's warning about gigantic scorpions immediately came to mind. With a startled cry, Elath scooped up his bow from where he had lain it, readying an arrow but not yet drawing the string. He could not see clearly enough to fire accurately, and he would not risk harming an innocent if his guess was wrong.

"Takk! Melina! Sariel! Rise and ready yourselves! Rise!" he shouted, moving back to kick at the nearest tent in an effort to rouse its inhabitant. "Light a fire if you are able!"

Manifesting Force Screen, augmented to 5 AC. (5 pp)

[Gorgondantess]

As soon as Sariel is woken, he slips out of the tent and begins to meditate.
Manifesting these powers in this order, until a clear threat shows itself:
Animal Affinity, augmented for +4 to str and dex. (7 pp)
Force Screen, for 5 AC. (5 pp)
Biofeedback, for DR 3/- (6 pp)
Prescience, offensive, for +4 damage. (7 pp)
And bolt, for [roll0] +3 arrows. (7 pp)
If a threat comes within spitting distance, he stops manifesting to join the fight.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina, too, prepares herself:
Light, on a pebble, thrown in the direction of the attackers (0th level spell)
Elfsight (Low-light vision, +2 Spot & Search, 3 PP, 7 hours)
Light, on another pebble, put in the middle of camp (0th level spell)
Inertial Armor (+4 AC, 1 PP, 7 hours)
Message on everyone (0th level spell)
Defensive Precognition (+3 AC/Saves, 7 PP, 7 minutes)
Energy Retort (4d6 Ice damage against first attacker each round, 5 PP, 7 minutes)
Spelled Manifesting (gain 3 PP, 1st level spell)
In order, stopping if targets appear before finished.

[MisterSaturnine]

The first thrown pebble glints off of the faraway scorpion's carapace, revealing all the terrifying details of its anatomy. The scorpion turns its body towards the first pebble, then turns its head back to the pebble in the center of camp. Barely making a sound, pincers open and tail high in the air, the scorpion streaks across the rocky terrain with unnatural speed and arriving right in front of Elath. Quick as a whip, the creature lashes out with a pincer, but Elath is too quick for the behemoth and the pincer slices through the air.

Attack roll: [roll0]
Damage roll: [roll1]
Grapple check: [roll2]
Constrict damage [roll3]

As the scorpion took 3 rounds to eventually move the 100 feet between it and Elath--the first it simply looked at the first pebble, and only moved after seeing the 3rd--Melina has managed to manifest elfsight, and Sariel has managed Animal Affinity, Force Screen, and Biofeedback. So far.

[Schism]

Shouting a pungent curse that he learned during his travels in the orcish lands, Elath sprang back and pressed a hand to his belt, drawing upon the reserves of power within. Ivan had not been exaggerating in the slightest, he realized, and the speed with which the belt allowed him to move might prove invaluable. Thoughts of what his fate might have been had the creature moved just a bit faster flooded through his mind, but he ignored them much as Takk could ignore pain.

A heartbeat was all it took him to aim at the horrifyingly large insect, and an instant later an arrow flew from his bow, followed closely by a second, each buzzing with mental energy.

Technically Elath used his belt after firing the first arrow, but that wouldn't have made very much sense in the writing.

So, in order:

5-ft step away from the scorpion

Fire one!:[roll0] Damage: [roll1] + [roll2] from Psionic quality + [roll3] from Psionic Shot

Swift action to use Belt of Battle, two charges, gain extra standard action.

Fire two!:[roll4] Damage: [roll5] + [roll6] from Psionic quality.

Free: Pray that everyone else does something useful before Elath gets grappled.

[MisterSaturnine]

The first arrows sinks deep into the beast's chitinous hide, and it lets out a chitter of pain in response. The second arrow pings off it.

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel puts his hands together above his head, drawing a simple He leaps forward silently, wordlessly, no emotion but a slight determination on his face. He wasted energy on vermin. Best to get rid of the vermin quickly.
Attack with heart's blade.
Attack roll: [roll0]
Insightful strike damage: [roll1]
In battle mantra stance, so a hit gives me +1 pp (woohoo)
I critted, but I'm not sure how that works with heart's blade insightful strike...

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina stops to attempt to focus herself
Concentration check for Psionic Focus:
[roll0]
No dice...

If Melina doesn't know enough about Scorpions/Telepathy to know not to use Mind Thrust:
Melina focuses her will on the simple mind of the arachnid, looking to crush it.

Mind Thrust, 4 PP:
[roll1]
If she does:
Melina speaks some words Sariel might recognize, and attacks with Ray of Enfeeblement (roll in OOC thread)

[Salvonus]

---post coming when I'm not so tired---

Takk will manifest Energy Stun (Fire), augmented to 7 pp. He'll target the epicentre of the power slightly behind the creature, so that it doesn't catch Elath or Sariel.

[roll0] (Reflex DC 21 for half.)

If that save fails, Will DC 21 or be stunned for 1 round.

[MisterSaturnine]

The scorpion reels back in pain again as Sariel's blade cuts deep into it. Melina's mental assault is wholly ineffectual against the mindless vermin, and the beast is bathed in fire by Takk.

Reflex Save: [roll0]
Will Save: [roll1]

The beast clacks it claws together, thrashing about at nothing, stunned by Takk's blast.

[Salvonus]

His spirit bolstered by the outstanding success of his psychokinetic manipulation, Takk sprung forward towards his stunned foe. The tiny Kobold warrior let loose no cries or exclamations - while other warriors drew emotional strength from outward expression, Takk'vakkan'irtala relied on mental fortitude alone. Relishing in the impeccable unity of his now-healed body, the diminutive knight-errant moved with surprisingly speed and grace - within mere seconds, Takk was alongside his Elven companions, fully prepared to stand alongside them against this monstrous foe.

With a surge of phrenic energy, Takk turned his mind's eye completely inward, tapping into his aptitude for psychometabolic manipulation. Surges of sheer power flowed seamlessly throughout the warrior's body, fortifying his adrenaline-controlled limbs, steadying the Kobold's hands and sharpening his aim. The potential of sheer channelled conviction served to enhance the power of Takk's blows, his single-minded dedication lending an unearthly sense of strength and force to his movements. Lashing out with a single clawed hand, Takk channelled all this inherent energy into a single, focused blow; a low hum filled the air as his arm began to rapidly vibrate, nearly-undetectable oscillations of immense intensity.

Move Action: Hustle up to the Scorpion.
Standard Action: Attack! (Foehammer Psionic Fist Phrenic Claw Strike. Yeesh.)

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

Battle Mantra will recover the pp spent on Phrenic Strike, should the bloody attack hit. :smalltongue:

Darnit. Missed. :smallfrown:

The stunned condition gives the Scorpion a -2 to AC... Perhaps it did hit, after all! :smallwink:

[MisterSaturnine]

Takk's claw just barely strikes true, pushing past the creature's natural armor and striking the killing blow. Takk can feel the creature's heart cease to beat, the last pulses of blood echo through its body as its muscles loosened. With a low, chittering groan, the beast collapses under its own weight, sending out a cloud of dust into the night.

[Schism]

"Well done, Takk," Elath said, drawing a steadying breath. He paused, then addressed the others with an accompanying nod of his head. "Melina, Sariel."

The light given off by Melina's shining stones revealed more than enough of the scorpion to send an involuntary shudder down Elath's spine. If he had been just a heartbeat slower... his eyes flicked toward the enormous claws, then stared off into the darkness as he forced himself to ignore what might have happened.

"If you have no objections, I believe I'll call an end to my watch now. I doubt any of us are due for a good night's sleep after that, but I am sore in places I did not know one could be sore after a day in the saddle, and I would very much like to lie down now."

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

"Well, I suppose I'll take the next watch, then... don't really feel like going back in the dark right now. The lights should last about an hour, and I'll make another for the next watch. Who should I get for next watch?"

[Salvonus]

((Sorry, only time for a tiny post. Just want to move this all along.))

"My eyesss are well-sssuited to the dark, dear Melina. I will take thisss watch; the ressst of you may sssleep." Takk smiled.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

"Thank you, but for the time being, my eyes are much the same. Which is really why I volunteered: it saves me having to manifest the power again."

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel slumps over, grimacing. He stumbles into his tent with a sour look, tossing away his blade in a manner much akin to a drunk tossing away an empty bottle. It dissipates before it does any damage, though, and he collapses back to sleep.

[MisterSaturnine]

The winds continue for most of the night, but the white noise of the storm allows for deep sleep, filled with troubling dreams for all.

You are able able to interact with the goings-on in your dream (and I hope you do so).

Melina
In your dream, you sit inside a classroom much like the ones in the Devaksetran University, only all of the other seats are empty. A white-haired, dark-skinned man in the traditional white robes of a teacher draws what seems to be a fetus on the wall in chalk, with the male symbol lying above the fetus and a female symbol below. The man turns around and reveals the face of a crow, spectacles perched atop his beak. Speaking in a disturbing, guttural and squawking voice, the crowman bows his head and addresses Melina. His voice is simultaneously comforting and harrowing. Melina is torn by the impulse to run screaming and the impulse to give the strange figure a hug. He certainly seems familiar, somehow.

"I am sorry to interrupt your sleep, young impossibility, but you have a lesson you must learn."

Sariel
In your dream, you stand atop an enormous plateau overlooking a world quite unfamiliar to you--you recognize no cities, no forests, no plains, and no rivers or oceans. Indeed, though you can somehow see all continents on this world, none of them match up with any you have seen before. You suddenly feel sick to your stomach and bend over to vomit up a murder of crows, which whirl around you, cawing cacophonously, before settling into the shape of a nude male elf with long hair made of black crow's feathers and the beady black eyes of a crow. His ears are absurdly long, and his mouth is oddly beaklike. When he speaks, it is with a squawking, guttural tone that is deeply unsettling. It fills you with both the desire to run screaming and the idea that you are finally home.

"Sariel, eternal wanderer. We have things to discuss."

Takk
You find yourself amidst the ruins of Coronach, entirely unpopulated. Not even the mighty Nar sits upon his gigantic horde, which still remains in the former townsquare. Out of the pile of gold, gems, and precious artifacts emerges what seems to be a crow with talons more like kobold claws, yellow eyes, and silvery scales instead of feathers. The creature walks towards you, something in its gait distinctly kobold, but the way it holds itself suggests something unlike anything Takk has seen before--a certain well-measured pride similar to that of Takk's dragon-lord, but on a larger scale. When the creature is face to face with Takk, it bows its head and speaks in a disturbing squawking, guttural voice. Takk is simultaneously compelled to sit down and learn at the creature's feet and flee in terror.

"Takk'vakkan'irtala, champion of the small. We must speak."

Elath
You find yourself in the middle of a peaceful forest glen. A pond sits in the middle, fish jumping in and out sporadically, birds chirp in beautiful and unusual harmony, and the sun filters out of the the tops of the trees in tiny rays. The chirping of the birds soon organizes into a song one would never find in nature, lilting between major and minor, until it morphs from the chirping of songbirds into the dissonant cawing of crows. A nude male elf with hair made of crow's feathers and beady crow's eyes rises from the pond. Sunlight has been replaced by moonlight, and the figure speaks in a guttural, squawking voice that makes the hair stand up at the back of your neck. You are filled simultaneously with a feeling that the world has lost all illusions of structure and your best bet is to run screaming for the hills and a feeling that everything is finally in its proper place.

"Elath Teslenar, son of your father and brother of the bow. We have much to speak of."

[DragoonWraith]

Melina
"You know something of my powers? Please, sir, continue! There is so much I do not know; there are so many lessons I must learn. Please, teach me!"

[MisterSaturnine]

Melina
The strange crow-being preens its feathers and nods.

"I'm afraid there is only so much I can tell you--I do not understand what or why you are, and I doubt it is for the same reason as..."

Suddenly, the creature's eyes widen and it clutches at its throat. It winces in pain and then breathes in deeply, recovering from the pain.

"I am sorry. There are certain rules I must abide by. But things are dire, so dire...look."

He takes the chalk and draws a line between the male symbol above and the female symbol below, crossing through the fetus in the process.

"Take note of this. I can't tell you why you must, but I do hope you figure it out. It is of grave importance to me. To all of my kind, really, but also to yours...and it is partly my fault."

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel stumbles a bit from the vomiting, slightly dizzy. You'd think he'd be used to it by now. He waves a hand after the crow speaks. "Well, obviously you wanted to say something, or I wouldn't be vomiting up a group of avians. Speak."

[MisterSaturnine]

Sariel
"I'm afraid there is only so much I can say. I am someone unfamiliar to you, it seems--you lack much of what I have to offer, don't you? Despite this, you are instrumental in the situation the world is in. There is a conflict between my kind and yours."

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel stares down the raven man coolly. "I lack much of what you have to offer? And just what is this great boon you have?

[MisterSaturnine]

Sariel
The crow-man opens his mouth, but closes it before any sound comes out, shaking his head.

"I cannot answer that--you must figure it out for yourself. Are you enjoying your sleep, Sariel? You don't dream often, do you? You've been searching for so long, but you have no idea what you've been looking for. I cannot give you a reason to search, but I can give you something to busy yourself with. There is a problem affecting my people and yours that will only grow in scale, and it is partly my fault."

The crow-man reaches into the heavens and grabs onto a star, which disappears into his hand as he closes his fingers around it. He presses his hand to his forehead, and when he pulls his hand away, an umbilical cord dangles down from where he'd been holding his hand. His hair dissolves back into a murder of crows, which tear at the umbilical chord and devour it.

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel just raises a brow as the crow-man speaks. "Well, I have no knowledge of this conflict, and little care. I've separated myself from the elves." As the crow does his spiel, Sariel furrows his brows and shakes his head, giving a condescending look. "Hang the cryptic symbolism and tell me what you want of me, avian."

[MisterSaturnine]

Sariel
"You misunderstand me. By your people, I do not mean elves. I mean mortals. You yourself witnessed the death of a powerful spirit at the hands of a mortal man. But that murder was not his doing. There is someone else behind it, and soon, you must murder him. Certain rules prevent me from speaking in any manner that is not cryptic, but you must take on the function that these crows just performed."

The crows pick at bits of umbilical cord remaining in-tact on the ground, gobbling them up. The crow-man takes a step towards Sariel, but strangely, Sariel finds himself moving closer to the crow-man rather than the other way around. Sariel soon ends up looking over the edge of the plateau, over the many foreign continents.

"Does what you see intrigue you, Sariel?"

[Gorgondantess]

Sariel stares down the crow once more. "I must? Who are you to say that I must? I'll do as I please. Cryptic messages and phantasmagorical continents do not intrigue me."

[Salvonus]

Fear? No... No. No!

Takk began to shudder uncontrollably, his heart filled with abject terror, his mind filled with the simple desire to flee from the crow-creature. The kobold was certainly not a creature who was prone to the effects of fear; he had learned the art of suppressing such base instinct. Pain and fear - crippling sensations, to be certain, ones that Takk tried to shelter himself from.

The diminutive warrior-sage tried to take deep, calming breaths, clutching at the retreating vestiges of calmness. For all his efforts, however, the comfort of suppressive focus remained elusive. A new manifestation of panic began to intermingle with the already-existing fear - Takk had lost control over himself. He had become an animal, ruled by his base instincts of "fight or flight". The Kobold could not tolerate such a failure of self; he was supposed to rise above those sorts of things, to practice perfect self-discipline. In his rational mind, he wished to learn more of what this creature had to say; but rational thoughts were quickly becoming overwhelmed by emotional desires.

Descending into despair at his inability to control his emotions only served to compound the turbulence of Takk's thoughts. He loathed himself for losing control, and then loathed himself further for the simple act of loathing himself. The Kobold began to spiral deeper and deeper into a maelstrom of emotional impermanence, his sanity severely tested by his inability to accept his own mental failures in good grace.

Finally, in a desperate act of Takk's shredded calculating self, the Kobold sent chaotic surges of energy throughout his normally-stable psychometabolic structure. For a brief, agonising moment, his world was filled with pain - uncontrolled bursts of mental power surged throughout his body, threatening to stop the machinations of his vital organs, threatening to lobotomise his tumultuous brain. As his psychometabolic surge settled, the still-fearful Kobold found his limbs to be completely paralysed - blessed immobility silenced his instincts, returned sensibility to his head.

Completely unable to move any of his muscles, Takk simply stared ahead at the crow creature. Terror still bubbled beneath the surface of the Kobold's consciousness, but his soul had accepted that flight was now impossible and acquiesced to his desire for mental clarity. A strange idea passed through his momentarily lucid thoughts - perhaps the creature would be able to listen to his mind. Takk was not skilled in the arts of telepathy, but his mind nonetheless sent out blind tendrils of psychic energy towards the crow-kobold.

A simple message dominated his attempt to project his thoughts - "I would learn from you, elder."

[MisterSaturnine]

Sariel
The crow creature grows immensely in size until his form fills the world--the universe has been replaced entirely by his visage. His guttural speech seems to bounce off the insides of your skull and leaves your ears ringing.

"Yes, Sariel, you are a creature motivated entirely by self-interest. So I will motivate you. Either you kill him, or he kills you. And everyone else with you. I have nothing more I can say to you at this time--when you know more, I can afford to be less cryptic. Already, I have overstepped my bounds. Now awaken."

Sariel wakes up to find that dawn has just broken.

Now, if you don't mind, we wait for the others to go through their dream sequences.

Takk
The crow creature brings its beak to Takk's inert body, giving him the once-over with a series of sniffing noises, then smiles broadly, speaking in the kobold's native tongue.

"And I would teach you, child. The mission you embark on is as important as you suspect. There are certain rules that bind me from saying things directly, but let this be known--the situation the universe is in is not a good one, and I take a degree of responsibility for this. Though I have done my part to destroy this world, it falls in your hands to help save it. I will try to answer your questions as best as I can. What would you have me tell you?"

[Schism]

Elath shivered, the calm he had been experiencing vanishing in an instant. His eyes fixed on the strange elf, he rose from his half-crouch at the edge of the pond, cupped hands dripping water that he did not remember touching. The water felt viscous somehow, like congealing blood, though his every other sense told him it was not so. A vague notion in the back of his mind told him that none of this was possible, that water was water and elves did not have feathers, but he ignored it. There were always new things to discover, and ideas that made sense one day could be laughable the next.

"A curious choice of names to give me," Elath mused, tilting his head almost imperceptibly to one side. These were not the woods he had taken them to be at first, he realized. They had seemed so like those near Aeruti until just a moment before, but now... the details were wrong; the trees seemed taller, thinner, as though they were being stretched by an unseen force. The pond could not be the same one he had been raised with, for its shape was wrong and the fish were unlike any he had seen before. And yet, it all made a curious sort of sense, a strange reflection of a place he knew well.

"What would you have us discuss, O' Strange One?"

[MisterSaturnine]

Elath
The figure smiles and chuckles slightly.

"Strange One. I have not been called that...ever, in my immediate memory. I'm sure some time before, but that is a novel appellation. I salute you."

The figure bows his head and then preens his feathers.

"But I'm afraid we have less pleasant things to discuss. It is a shame. I have enjoyed your dreaming over the years, Elath. But the world...the entire universe...is in great danger. The blame of the situation lies partly in my hands, and its solution lies partly in yours."

The elf runs a finger down his chest, from his sternum to just above his crotch, and as he does the skin is flayed apart. No blood seeps from the wound, and even bone is not visible through the great gap--in fact, it seems like space itself can be seen inside of him. The crow-man reaches into the space within himself and pulls out an infant, sleeping, wrapped in black linen.

"He dreams as you dream. What do you think of children, Elath?"

[Schism]

"They are, every one, the innocence of the world and the promise of a new era," Elath said, repeating a phrase he had heard during his own youth. Shaking his head, he raised his eyes from the child to stare into the birdlike eyes of the strange elf.

"You say you bear news of dire import, yet you ask about children. Why?"

[MisterSaturnine]

Elath
The figure shakes his head.

"I wish so badly I could speak in more certain terms, but I cannot. I can simply say this: there once was a child of two natures, and he was raised the wrong way. His father tried to give him up to his mother's world, and his mother tried to give him up to his father's, and in the end they both simply abandoned him. This child does, in fact, have the power to bring about a new era."

The figure takes the black blanket off of the baby, and reveals it is made of a dark blue flame. The flames whirl around the forest, catching fire to everything, even the ground and the pond. The flames burn slowly, but it is as if the world is made of paper and the corners are slowly curling, small spots of nothingness are being burnt into the world.

"Do you understand?"

[Salvonus]

Comforted by the creature's words, Takk could feel the unwelcome sensation of fear slowly subside. Curiosity began to overtake instinct, but the Kobold's body remained inert with self-induced paralysis. Pondering the crow-man's words for a moment, Takk formulated his inquiries.

"Elder, I would learn whatever you have to tell me. If I may ask one thing of you, I would wish to know why you have come to bless my thoughts with your presence." Takk projected, his mind straining at the effort.

[MisterSaturnine]

Takk
The kobold-crow shakes its head.

"Not thoughts, student. Dreams. There is a sizable difference. I wish I could tell you without skirting around the issue, but it is not in my power. My only real language is symbolism."

Nar's horde seems to grow in size, the gold bulging against the edges of the world, until it spills over Takk, barraging him with coins and jewels. As the riches flow over him, they begin to dissolve with the stench of decaying meat. Soon, all that is left is a single peach, laying in the middle of a pattern the wave of wealth has left behind, a scar on the ground shaped like a world map. Termites burst out of the peach and begin devouring the earth itself, leaving a hole where the map was--not a hole in the ground, but in reality itself. Where the world once was, there is now only nothingness.

"The fruits of my labor."

[Salvonus]

"Dreams? Ah, then I am asleep."

The illusion of paralysis broken, Takk began to move his limbs freely, still wincing at the phantom pain he had induced. Control over his body restored, Takk smiled at the Kobold-Crow.

"I assume you know my language, Elder." Takk spoke in crisp Draconic, relishing in a chance to use his native tongue, "I can only guess at your meaning, for we all take different things from the symbolism of dreams. Elder, I see entropy, I see destruction from success, I see the corruption of wealth. Or, perhaps that is the illusion of wealth? But what do you intend me to see, I wonder? You cannot speak to me directly. I weep for that fact, Elder."

"I would know more, if you allow it. Elder, what of the Kobold race? What of Nar? Show me what you may of our fate; nay, our potential fate, for reality has not been written yet."

[Schism]

Elath considered the strange elf's words for a moment, then made to raise a hand to his face before realizing that he still held the oddly viscous water. He released it reluctantly, then continued with his gesture, a curious flicking motion of fingers to chin that he had picked up from the humans.

"If your regret is true, then I have no cause to think ill of you for your hestation, but I cannot make sense of vagaries and convoluted speech. Such is not my nature, nor the nature of most elves these days. If you cannot speak more clearly, then I fear your message is for naught."

[MisterSaturnine]

Elath
The crow's eyes harden, grow sharper, as the world burns into nothing. Surrounded by nothingness, the man seems smaller, somehow, closer to a frustrated mortal than a powerful figure.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to say this. I..."

He snaps his head up to Elath.

"What do you do when your child turns against you? When you can't discipline him, you can't even see him to set him straight?"

He shakes his head.

"It already hurts to speak clearly...the truth is painful to me, you must understand...Praxis. The library at Praxis. It will say what I can't. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

And with that, you wake up, suddenly. It's morning.

Takk
"Race doesn't concern me. If it was as simple as your kind being wiped out, I'm sorry, but I don't think I would care very much. Without people in your realm, mine cannot exist. No one's creations would populate it, you see. Besides, I think I would be killed as soon as possible. The man who would kill the world would also very much like to kill me, specifically. And I am much older than language, kobold. I speak whatever you speak. I do hope by now you've realized what I am--you can likely compare notes with your comrades to verify. I have just directed your companion to a library. Ask him about it. Look at maps."

He looks down into the abyss the peach has created, and nods at Takk's interpretation.

"That is certainly true. I am a creator, Takk. I consider myself an artist. But only one thing I have ever created has lasted through the night. And now that thing is turning against its creators. Have you ever been in love, Takk?"

Melina
"If someone can use but cannot make, he must be a student. There was once a great painter, who taught a great student. But the student was not a great painter--he learned well, but when he held a brush...nothing. Nothing could come from him. But when the painter painted...ah, he could see exactly what the painter was trying to say, and he could tell other people what the painter meant, and they would understand perfectly and thank him. But he could not create, only utilize."

He takes a moment, hoping she's understood his metaphor of magic as art, then nods and continues.

"The symbols have their usual meaning. Male is male, female is female. And what happens when male and female join together? What is created? I don't need you to answer me, I know very well that you know what happens. What you do need to tell me is what you think about the spirits, and their relationship to mortals. What do you know, student?"

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina
The strange crow-being preens its feathers and nods.

"I'm afraid there is only so much I can tell you--I do not understand what or why you are, and I doubt it is for the same reason as..."

Suddenly, the creature's eyes widen and it clutches at its throat. It winces in pain and then breathes in deeply, recovering from the pain.
"As that man, on the ziggurat!" Melina shouts out, ever eager to impress the teacher.

"But he died, victim of his own victims... could he have been merely a pawn? Not powerful enough to write that page and imbue it with the power it had, but powerful enough to use it? How did he use it? How was it written? Who wrote it?"

I assume that the answer below is applicable to everything she just asked; feel free to insert a different answer here if you like, though.
"I am sorry. There are certain rules I must abide by. But things are dire, so dire...look."

He takes the chalk and draws a line between the male symbol above and the female symbol below, crossing through the fetus in the process.

"Take note of this. I can't tell you why you must, but I do hope you figure it out. It is of grave importance to me. To all of my kind, really, but also to yours...and it is partly my fault."
"Uh..." Melina stares at the symbol. "Male and female are always separate. Only one should have been there to begin with...

"Was it not always this way? Did you separate male and female? And what is wrong with that?

"Or do those not truly signify male and female, but are symbols of symbols themselves?"

[Salvonus]

"You intrigue me, Elder." Takk stated simply, keeping his own thoughts close to his heart. "No, Elder, I have not been in love with anything but my hopes and dreams. Tell me of that, if you will."

[MisterSaturnine]

Takk
The figure opens its mouth.

"I--"

It stops, not in pain, just checking if it can continue speaking, lets out a slightly crazed laugh, and continues.

"I have indeed been in love. Only once, though. When someone is sufficiently touched by the divine...no, that I cannot say. Dreams are funny things. Anyway, we--"

The kobold-crow makes a choking noise and swears in Draconic.

"I hate this. This is why I try to avoid these kind of interactions, they infuriate me. Praxis will have the answers you seek. There, I can say that. Anyhow, I suppose I can speak of love, non-specifically? Let's find out together. If and when you fall in love, Takk, you will find that you put a piece of yourself elsewhere in the world. Namely, in your lover. Sometimes figuratively, sometimes not. It is something I'm sure you have learned. And something is, of course, produced. You had a mother, Takk, and a father. At the very least, you have had figures who have been like parents to you. For example."

Nar rises out from the emptiness in the Earth, and then descends back down.

"But where would you be without their guidance? And where would you be if they abandoned you? Often, when one is rejected by something you love, that love festers into hate. That is the case here. I've said a bit too much, I fear. I can feel my hold slipping, and soon you will wake."

[Salvonus]

Takk could feel himself returning to the conscious world, waking far before he would have liked. Desperately, he clung to the dream-world, not wishing for this conversation to end so soon. Floating in a state of half-wakefulness, Takk strained out a final few words.

"Elder... Thank you. I would learn from you again. Perhaps I shall have the chance. I count myself blessed to have spoken with you. For now... Please take care of yourself."

[MisterSaturnine]

Takk
The kobold-crow is certainly not mortal--the look in his eyes clearly shows that he doesn't care for mortal things, and there is that air of detachment. And yet there is something in his eyes as Takk slides back into reality...it seems almost like a resigned sadness.

"Yes. I will try to take care of myself. Until we meet again, Takk'vakkan'irtala."

And Takk awakens.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina


Melina
"If someone can use but cannot make, he must be a student. There was once a great painter, who taught a great student. But the student was not a great painter--he learned well, but when he held a brush...nothing. Nothing could come from him. But when the painter painted...ah, he could see exactly what the painter was trying to say, and he could tell other people what the painter meant, and they would understand perfectly and thank him. But he could not create, only utilize."

He takes a moment, hoping she's understood his metaphor of magic as art,
Melina nods and is about to point out that this is what she meant when


then nods and continues.

"The symbols have their usual meaning. Male is male, female is female. And what happens when male and female join together? What is created? I don't need you to answer me, I know very well that you know what happens. What you do need to tell me is what you think about the spirits, and their relationship to mortals. What do you know, student?"
"Nothing, except that they are not like me. I thought they might be. The spirits of the jungle were wild, feral, vicious, dangerous. Worth no more thought than the tiger - which is to say, worth a great deal of thought, if you are in danger of being one's prey, but those thoughts are of breaking the relationship, if possible.

Telos' Blood Spirit was different. It was powerful, no doubt, and must have had some intelligence, to settle upon the deal that it did with them. The spirits in Venuvana would not conceive of such a thing, and would not hold to it no matter how well the deal favored them. They simply lack the clarity to do that, I think. But I really cannot fathom the Telosians' and the Blood Spirit's relationship. Symbiotic, I think the word is? But that says nothing about the grander scheme of things, which I think is what you are getting at."

[MisterSaturnine]

Melina
There is a grave look in the crow's eyes.

"As above, so below, as within, so without. The macrocosm reflects the microcosm. And small relationships can effect the grander scheme of things. The Venuvanan spirits truly are cruel, vicious, terrible things. And it can be strange...someone the person who knows things best can forget them at the least opportune time. There was indeed a symbiotic relationship between the Blood Spirit and Telos. As there is for many places, really. There is a small village near the coast of Devaksetra who worships a Sea Spirit, for example. She does not have an effect on the land as big as the Blood Spirit's, but her relationship with the village is symbiotic in a similar way. But what I was referring to is...different. I mean the direct relationships between particular spirits and particular mortals. Relationships like friendships. Relationships like love. And the consequences of those relationships. I have only made one mistake, and that is not caring for that consequence as I should have."

[DragoonWraith]

Melina

Melina
There is a grave look in the crow's eyes.

"As above, so below, as within, so without. The macrocosm reflects the microcosm. And small relationships can effect the grander scheme of things. The Venuvanan spirits truly are cruel, vicious, terrible things. And it can be strange...someone the person who knows things best can forget them at the least opportune time. There was indeed a symbiotic relationship between the Blood Spirit and Telos. As there is for many places, really. There is a small village near the coast of Devaksetra who worships a Sea Spirit, for example. She does not have an effect on the land as big as the Blood Spirit's, but her relationship with the village is symbiotic in a similar way. But what I was referring to is...different. I mean the direct relationships between particular spirits and particular mortals. Relationships like friendships. Relationships like love. And the consequences of those relationships. I have only made one mistake, and that is not caring for that consequence as I should have."
"You... are a spirit? And you... had a child with a mortal? And that child... is the one who wrote that scroll?

"You do not think I am the same? I certainly have no reason to suspect that my father was anyone other than the man who raised me... my parents are happy together, devoted to each other..."

[MisterSaturnine]

Melina
The teacher lets out a sigh of relief.

"You understand. Thank goodness."

As he continues to speak, Melina can feel herself being pushed to the waking world.

"But I'm afraid I cannot supply answers to your question. Your father is your father, your mother, your mother. You, I do not understand."

And Melina wakes up as well.

[DragoonWraith]

Melina
Melina wakes up, and begins dismantling her tent and stowing supplies. Seeing Takk, who she feels most comfortable with, she strikes up a conversation.

"Hey Takk, how was your night? I had the weirdest dream, there was a crow-man dressed like one of my teachers back in Devaksetra."

[Gorgondantess]

So, uhhh, I got caught in a space-time warp, and so it really is for me that day I said I'd post...:smalleek::smallredface:
Sariel wakes up, exiting his tent with a grimace and a squint. He rubs his eyes, then shakes himself off. "Dreams of ravens and... ravens." He goes off into the distance to relieve himself and showerdump a waterskin over his head, and comes back to the group to break his fast. As he chews on dried meats, he regards Takk. "Tell me, Sir Lizard. You are an adept, are you not? I need to do my exercises this morning. You can spar with me." As usual, he is blunt, dispassionate and somewhat overbearing in his manner.