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Sutoratosu

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  1. The outliers were slain. The girl's wounds had stemmed in their bleeding and by now had mostly sealed. Kayut could still see the glint of something shining way yonder, still clustered among the other men. But now that the immediate threat was gone, he noticed something else as well. Back north, near the river- a small clearing, far from the main road into the town, but too neat to have occured naturally. "Rghrghrgh..." The girl looked where he did, and soon saw it as well "Hmmm... maybe you right, Kayut. Only one way to know." Tsidin heads to H8
  2. The rider stowed the medicine in a thick burlap knapsack tied to Kayut. Despite the lack of saddle, they did have several obvious provisions which the beast seemed to have no issues bearing- namely a bed roll, a few rolled furs, the aforementioned bag of carrying, and even what looked to be several sturdy leather loops, just the right circumference to snugly hold a spear in place. The great beast grumbled something, and Tsidin nodded, Thanked the elderly resident and then was off again. Tsidin Cantos to C8
  3. Winston rides to D7, gives Mage B a ride by hatcheting, Canto to D5 to make room for others Tsidin heads to B7 and visits the house, will decide where/if to canto depending on how things go (3/5 Mov used)
  4. Tsidin to C7, Strike the Spearman, Canto to C5 Winston heads to F6, Hatchets Axeman B!
  5. "Haha, a Fight! La nax, la nax! Hear that, Kayut? No more walking!" "...." Despite all his earlier rumbling and grumbling, the wyvern falls silent as she hops on his back. Those close would notice the girl rode saddle-less, her hands and feet instinctively finding small folds in the the beast's scaly hide and grabbing tight. She didn't seem to need it either, given Kayut shot into the sky practically of his own accord. He eyed a particularly odd shine in the distance, clustered among the enemies, like someone had polished a particularly smooth sphere of glass and set it out in the morning sun... Tsidin to D6 Winston Should Move to F7, and equip the Hatchet!
  6. "RRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr........" A hulking specimen of a Wyvern lagged near the back of the party. In both the deep grumble from its throat and the glint in its eyes, there was no shortage of displeasure as he slowly picked his away along the earth, like some common beast. He could've moved faster than such a monotonous pace, yes... much faster indeed, but such bursts of overland speed only came about when something needed to be mangled. He could think of a few things he wanted to mangle right now, infact... "Calm, Kayut," The young woman by his side uttered softly, patting his scales. She'd gone from hefting the spear of bronze-tipped bone over her shoulder to using it as an impromptu walking stick, after all these miles of being grounded. "I not pleased either, but almost over. Just 'nother mile, maybe two." And she couldn't be more glad, really. It felt insulting to be forced out of the skies, yes. And it Didn't help that they'd been told precious little about the job. But the coin promised for this was good, and good coin was precisely what they had need of. Hopefully it would prove as quick as the knight commander was making it out to be.
  7. Arya Unsurprisingly, Arya had sprung to her feet and was at Natalie's side the moment she fell. Not that she'd been able to do much either way, considering well... what the fuck were you supposed to do when there was liquid metal crawling around under someone's skin? Like it or not, she was far outside of her element... and so with some reluctance, she'd backed away when Mother Opium had rushed forward, looking on as Nat slowly came to. And somehow, she didn't seem any worse for wear when she did. Except for the spikes. The spikes that... she could now shoot from her hand apparently. Okaaaaay then, just another thing to put under the "Strange shit that is my life now" column. Though, truth be told... it reminded Arya of an old novel she'd salvaged from the library; some sci-fi thing where a bunch of machines that had gone haywire in the future travelled back in time to wipe out humanity. The damn robot that terrorized everyone was made out of liquid metal or some such bullshit, could shift forms to mimic people's appearances perfectly or form it's arms into blades... Well, alright, maybe Natalie didn't really fit the whole metal chamaeleon aspect, but the arm blades were a definite match. "Mother Opium," she began "What...exactly was that substance anyway? Where did you get it from?"
  8. Revenant Solomon "Don't listen to anything that comes out of his shit eating mouth, he's just trying to-" "I know," The God of Lust underestimated both Solomon's control over his sister's designs and how nonchalant he would be about drawing the shards closer to himself. As he strafed closer the Shards broke off their previous attack patterns, each of them spinning in place like miniature saw blades as they rocketed for Swagger; any of those that missed the god himself simply shifted course and began to orbit around Solomon himself in a protective sphere of shredding death. All the while a repulsion field further served to keep the other mech at bay. It was hard to tell whether sully was pushing Revenant, or Swag himself away with it, but one way or another, the gap widened as Ragnarok returned to its master. "Sully... wait, so soon....?" The AI could feel himself being blocked by a very familiar wall. Yet again. Except this time, it was the pilot himself doing it, instead of some actually god-like being such as Arcturus. With a heavy sigh, he gradually stopped resisting the push. It was what they'd spent what time before the match preparing for, he knew it would come eventually. Didn't stop him from dreading it though, "Are you sure?" "Go," For a brief moment, it is all the response Asmodeus gets, as several of the shards orbiting the Revenant begin to coalesce , connecting themselves into a half-moon blade that looked as if someone had taken Ragnarok's full form and split it in two. "I'm done with this charade. But he asked the magic question. And ya know what? I just found the answer to it myself, not long ago. I got nothin' left to run from. Might as well share the answer." "... just don't let a repeat of the last time occur." and like that, in barely the full span of a moment, the AI had left him, full control of the system now sitting in Solomon's hands alone. "You wanna know why I'm here?" He broadcasted into the arena, "Only person I ever tried to save is gone. Even when I knew she was headin' off to her destruction, I couldn't do anything to stop her. Cute that you think I could save anyone" A strange whir fills the arena. For once, its not coming from ragnarok... no, theres a crackle beneath it, a strange hum... "Couldn't knock any sense into her, convince her not to go. Couldn't let go once she was gone either. I'll tell ya why I'm here-" T 15... There's a deafening roar of thunder and static. The red accenting on Revenant flares up until it burns with the light a miniature sun, the air around Solomon distorting a rich and bloody red as ungodly levels of magnetic force pour forth. But the crimson comes not just from the decorative lighting, no. Hard as it was to see, the red coursed over every inch of his mech like some massive carpet of buzzing insects. Already there were cracks forming on the exterior. In the same moment that burst of sound and static ignited, he gave his answer, blaring his mics at ear peircing volume as he exploded forward with such blinding force it wrecked the stone floor of the arena where he'd been standing. The storm of blade shards orbiting him enter an absolute frenzy, licking and tearing at anything they touch. The half moon blade he wielded extended outwards, slashing through the air with an arc that burned like celestial fire as it homed ever closer towards Swagger's chest. It wasn't the same type of blow he'd attempted against the Giant however, not by a long shot. No, no... this was... calculated, Cold, methodical. But the wrath threatening to boil the very air around him was nigh palpable, just underneath. Wrath tempered by grim determination, though for what... its anyone's guess. "I AM HERE BECAUSE I'M FUCKIN' WEAK, BOYO. BECAUSE I'VE ALWAYS BEEN WEAK." T14...T13...
  9. She stalked through the undergrowth, eying the theif as Rayne assailed him. Her knife was already in her hands, eyes burning with that dull ruby glow, highlighted in the dim forest as she turned to Emilee "We'll clear the last of them out. Stay close to Myrdwyn for now." Then she was gone, bursting forward from the thicket in a glint of ember orange and sinking the blade directly into the neer-do-wells spine as the incoming javelin distracted them... I17, Annihilate the Thief with Parry Knife
  10. Arya "Come on, Natalie, don't sell yourself short like that," Arya said, "When that girl burst into the kitchen behind me, you sprang into action before I could even so much as move. Even if you aren't sure how you did it, the fact is, you did something back there, and did probably without even thinking very hard. I don't think... no. I know I couldn't have held her off anymore at that point, if you hadn't stepped in when you did. You've got plenty of resolve, even if you don't think do. Besides, her only tricks seem to be using that Scythe and lighting herself on fire. And we know she'll be back, that she won't stop until someone's dead. She had countless advantages here; seperated and defenseless targets, greater experience, the element of surprise... But she wasted all of those. She toyed with us, was so assured of her success she didn't take it seriously... until it came back to bite her. But by then it was already too late for her..." She hesitated for a moment, gazing into those lavender eyes once again. There was an odd certainty to her expression, as she took hold of Natalie's hand "Think about it, Nat. This was her biggest chance at this, and she failed it with flying colors. If we're standing together when she tries again, if we're both actually prepared the next time... She might not get to limp away." Curiously, she neglected to mention how she'd been too cowardly to end this whole mess already. Knew she should've grabbed that fucking scythe and taken the bitch down a peg when she had a chance, grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr....but fuck it. Her and Nat were both alive, and the bitch hadn't even roughed her up that much, all things considered. There was still plenty good chance to make sure Kindle got hers, in good time....
  11. "..." He stared at the two down below, not even aware that lenneth's own initiative was the only thing keeping their course steady. The winds were well this day, and bits of their conversation had easily carried upwards and out. Not all of it, but enough of the latter parts to make a bitter-sweet pang well in his chest. Part of him wanted to call out to the boy 'don't make promises you can't keep'. A large part of him, infact. But even with everything that'd happened in this place, there was still some sliver of himself that knew he had no real right to interlope like that. The part that wasn't totally numb, that could still remember the old times as what they once were, instead of what they had become. "Pfffffffffffffft" The mare glanced back him, letting her wing dip ever so slightly to the side. "Huh...? Oh...sorry" "Neiiiiiiiiiiegh!" The response garnered a glare from the steed. "Yes, yes. you're right, you're right," he sighed. "I'll stay focused from now... I promise" She eyes him for a moment longer, before finally turning her gaze forward, satisfied. "Hmph, now who's the one making promises he can't keep? Again." J3, hold
  12. Arya Aaaaaand guess who? What interesting timing....though the past day or two had a lot of 'Interesting Timings'. "Oh uh... well I guess I can't blame you, really," Arya said, unusually sheepish. Her face was still flushed from the previous line of conversation, no doubt Natalie would notice "Before an hour ago, I would've brushed this whole thing off as insanity, too. But that Girl....what she was able to do...." There is a grimace as she recalls Miss Bates. Never particularly liked her, but never had any real beef with her either. Even if she did though, not even the bitchiest of teachers she'd gone through would've deserved to be gutted and burned like that... like some mere animal. After a moment or two, she shakes her head, pushing the scene back down and trying to smile. It's a thin, weak one. "Anyway... I'm glad you decided to come back. Mother Opium and I were just... talking about a few things."
  13. Lucille- River bank The silence of the evening was a pleasant backdrop. She didn't know how long she sat there, just listening to the currents and the chirps of crickets. Might have been a few minutes, might've been an hour or more. She honestly lost herself after a while. There was something beneath the gentle ambiance. Just off the edge of unfocused hearing; grew a bit stronger when she started tuning out the rest. It... it was the noise again. The shifting, almost ethereal frequencies she'd picked up in the castle, and then again when the Strider had attacked. The moment she heard it, the flashes began again... events that once been in color, been in another being's vision, yet somehow had been transmitted to a format she was familiar with; it was not unlike the burst of Sysnesthesia used by the Black Stone, before young Discord had spawned from it. But unlike the stone, the rush of senses the would-be visions caused was not so overwhelming, as to cause nausea. No, if anything, the sensations, and the rough visual equivalents they each represented, felt all too familiar. Yet, she knew she did not live through these events. How could she? There were... too many, far too many, too fast to fully process, it had to have comprised hundreds of lifetimes, at the very least. But One in particular stood out, was slow enough to stick- something great and imposing, towering over her, fire and miasma choking the air from her lungs. Talons descending and slicing the air, a great and terrible voice shouting, and finally a pain unlike anything else she'd ever experienced- as if the fury of a million splendid suns had suddenly blossomed in the back of her eyes. So great was it that it made her actively recoil, falling the cool earth and clutching the eyes she had now, useless though they were. So great, she felt the pain not simply in the physical sense, but down to her very spirit, her very soul, as if a peice of herself had been rent from the rest, leaving nothing but a gaping wound in it's wake. And then, there was no more of the Synesthesia. Only the darkness she was all too familiar with. And voices and tongues she felt as though she knew, but slipped her mind at the moment. The pain lingered for moments, but eventually, it too faded. Until all she could feel was a dull ache the ran deeper than the flesh. She rose slowly. The crickets had stopped. She could sense them all on the edge of her mind, tens of countless critters, each and everyone of them directing their attention at the samething: Her. Even her own beasts gawked. They expected something. She didn't know what, but... but she got to her feet. Stripped off the remnants of the silver armor, tossed it into a pile. Opened her mouth, and began to chant. Chant in words no Thaumist had ever known or would know. Otherworldly light filled the river bank, visible even from the town. And it continued to shed its radiance upon the land as the sun fully descended over the horizon...
  14. Grand Finale ((IE, Fights over kids)) Enma's attack proves to be fair more effective than at first apparent, breaking through what meager scraps are left of the man's protection. With a banshee like screech, the officer finally falls as the child ghost feasts upon his life force. Nothing but a shriveled husk of a person remains by the time Kino is able to call her sister off. Mira's blade catches into the side of the Lahmu with ease, cutting from it a large swath of flesh and spattering an ink like substance on the earth. More of it spews from the wound as the creature shambles forward in desperation, striking at her unprotected face with unnatural, and unseen before, speed. Thin, spindly claws just barely manage to graze her dangerously close to the eyes, before she can bring her sword up once more, this time sundering the creature in twain. The two twitching halves fall prone to the earth, as the foul Ichor stains both Mira's wounds and her sword. It stings. There is another ungodly burst of might as Navin descends upon the bel lahmu, flesh and viscera being torn asunder from the force of their meeting, and what is left of the foul creature scattering to the winds. Fire and Ichor. Blood as black as the gathering skies overhead. It coats Navin's hands; how long till it lies on his heart? It is a question for later. No sooner than he finished the beast, the skies overhead turn to black pitch, Tama Vajra unfurling his leathery capes and issuing a deafening bellow that grated on the ears of all present, threatening oh so slightly to shatter the eardrum along with the body. Those with an inherent sense for all things magical felt the raw energies circulating around and through him- a quickly escalating signature, the mark of an old god returning to the throne... A god whose herald was the twin chariots of thunder and lightning. Like Hailstones, it rains down from the heavens. A burst of sound, light, and fury here, another there, yet another over yonder- each and every one of them send the force of ages past reverberating through the flesh and bone of the party, quaking them just as much as it quakes the earth all around them. Earth flies in scorched chunks, Men and abominations scream alike. Blackened bones scatter through the chaos, before disintegrating into ash. Black haze overtakes the area, like the Miasma of a long forgotten devil. The acrid stench of burning ozone stings the nostrils of all who yet live. Over the nigh rhythmic detonations, yet another noise can be heard. The noise of a Manic King, "MahahahahahahahHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAA! YES! GROVEL LIKE THE SWINE YOU ARE! AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" his cackles involuntarily raises the hairs on all necks still intact, the static and pop of electricity becoming ever more apparent as the air charges to palpable levels. Those with keen hearing would notice- the bolts always fall in the last syllable of the laugh... "Stop..." The voice buried by the laugh is thin, tiny, almost nonexistent. The king continues in his manic rampage, the screams of ever more men filling the night. Until the very energies that could once be sensed circulating through him halted. As easily as a hose which had been plugged, as the voice issued forth with the splendid wrath of a thousand suns, "ESTEII ATA, JE SUBJE UVJUVI!" His body began to disintegrate into twisting smoke. His cackle was cut short by the command. The Hymn had ceased, the power he sustained himself on... now rescinded. He let out a roar in protest, but it mattered not. Within moments, he was gone just as quickly as he'd been summoned. No sooner than the dark god was off the field, did the thick Miasma, the charged air, and the stench of ozone begin to dissipate. And as the fog cleared, there was no shortage of men, skellington, and abomination alike lying upon the scorched and broken earth. Deep trenches, easily several meters long for each of them, had been wrenched into the soil, and craters of similar size dotted the clearing. The charred remnants of trees was scattered in among the dead and the destruction. A few small fires burned here and there. Some of the dead lay face down, arms reaching out towards the tree line, away from the party. Their mouths eternally transfixed in expressions of grim horror as their flesh burned. Nothing could describe the expression of the Caller, as she surveyed the death. Though her fists clenched white- whiter than even the snowy porcelain her skin usually was, if it was even possible -and her entire being shook. She sighed in complete and utter disgust, eyes flaring like miniature suns- though she heavily suppressed it, the fury practically radiated off of her in waves. A fury surpassing even that of the Dark God who'd just laid waste to everything and everyone who hadn't been fighting under her command. For not a single hair on any of the party's heads had actually been harmed. Raised, but not harmed. "...It's over." She proclaims with all the gusto a woman dead inside can muster, not meeting any of their eyes. Without another word, she heads off towards the castle in the distance. The waves of palpable fury seem to follow her... The Storm King, all the while, sits silent.
  15. "Massive amounts of energy, Ancient Artefacts?" A certain terror knight muses as he walks over, Armor clanking and... literal screams echoing in his wake- soft, muffled, almost as if ethereal beings were screeching just beyond the thin veil of life and death "Hmmmm... perhaps this world has some facsimile of a Chaos Gate then. Along with men foolish, or insane, enough to bargain with whatever's on the other side..." He turned his sights on the transparent image of a man- still throughly convinced he was some sort of phantom in his mind, "Aside from artifacts or other ancient horrors, can you give us anything more specific about it's nature? Regardless, I'll be accompanying those who go to investigate. Something bodes ill here..."
  16. "Yeah, yeah, just get going already," She sighed with no shortage of exasperation "End this mess." "I'll stay here and try to keep Emilee from getting her head smashed in... again. Probably gonna have to save the Nun on my own, too..."
  17. Remi, Vale 8-26 Basic attack on whatever enemy is still alive and has the lowest health
  18. Arya "Oh? R-really?" Her face flushed a bit more "I'm glad to know he's doing well, then..." Of course dad had totally called something like this at some point, didn't know why she was surprised. Maybe the mention of anything relating to home felt just a bit too... surreal given the events of the past 2 hours. She just hoped the old fox was actually taking care of himself; tended to work way too hard, rest too little, and that was when she was actually around to remind him. Always used to worry about him getting sick from it, even if she couldn't really recall it ever happening. That and she'd always been kinda scared he'd eventually stroke out if he kept pushing as hard as he did, as old as he was getting. "And I will," She nodded once things turned back to Natalie. Her mind briefly debated mentioning what'd happened with Naya the other day, but it was probably better to let Nat do that herself... She also neglected to voice her oppinion that most of the staff probably just rolled over and let Nat do what she did in the past because they didn't feel like potentially angering the child of their boss.
  19. "Wait, what!? Belros, of all the people you can choose-" "Cadence..." "rrrrrrrr.... fine." She sighed, probably for the best that Mara'd stopped her there. Still though, from most of what she'd seen thus far, well.... nothing personal against the captain, but there'd been many times where it had seemed like he was even more useless than her, on the battlefield. He and Helena just seemed so... delayed in their actions for some reason, never could figure out why they always hesitated so much. Buuuut.... "Fine.... if it's really the captain you want beside you... just remember what I said, alright?" Then turning to the shaman "And you. If it turns out this really was a trap the whole time, that special tome of yours won't save you from me. I'll take that pock marked mug of yours and carve you a nice new smile; that will be just the beginning. Now take them go see your damn boss, before I get a lot less civil." k-18, Hide in the trees, glare menacingly at the shaman
  20. "You fucks can't even be bothered trying to hide a trap, can you?" she snaps at the Shaman with a nice bit of venom, before turning to belros "Well, what are you going to do? If by some miracle your boss isn't the scumbag I think he is and he still has some honor like you hope, maybe what you said earlier isn't so far fetched. Or maybe he just wants to see the look on your face one last time before he personally ends you. If you're really serious about trying to talk through this, at the very least don't go over there alone."
  21. Shortly after arriving in Town.... Lucille again found herself sitting on the river bank. Just like only that morning. It still hurt to breath. She still felt the occasional tinge of iron at the back of her throat. Her armor battered, tattered, lay scattered around her. Brachus tried his best to sooth what injuries were left with his breath; apparently being slammed into a tree by a massive beast could cause a lot of internal trauma... who would've thought? The adrenaline was gone. Most of the anger was gone. All there was was the dull, throbbing pain and occasional spike of the stuff that ran through like a hot needle. Made it harder to focus, but it hadn't stopped her. (She'd endured worse injuries than these and lived to talk about it, granted nothing she'd dealt with before had been quite as huge as the Strider) White, pure light. It bloomed and danced before her in a spectacular display, one that as always, she could never appreciate. Despite the discomfort, despite her lack of focus... for once, it felt like... she didn't need to. What to do, how best to do it, it all just seemed to come to her. Her mind worked faster than it ever had during these rituals before; stripping the qualities of the unnatural ice and picking out exactly the right spots to implant them within the Cat Dragon. It was... almost as if she were in a trance. Not like the one common in her Thaumaturgy though, no... that one was far more lucid, working now though... it was as if she'd given the wheel to some other part of herself- a part that somehow, someway, walked through this as if it'd done it thousands, no... millions of times before. Since the day it was born. "phenomenal..." She whispered. Do emerged from the light, wings unfurling, bedazzled in frost and ice that caught the low light and danced in the moons radiance. Every breath he exhaled seemed to chill the very air, conjuring a thin mist that clung to the ground. Even his fur was covered in the stuff, thick enough to form a scaled armor. Examining himself, the beast roared in approval, and from his gullet there was a blast of blue and white, and the a shrill whistle. A spear of ice flew off into the heavens, vanishing from sight. "What... what does it all mean?" Lucille sighed. The headache was probably the worse part of it all. No matter hard she attempted to recall the process, walk back through it, it was just... gone now. Had rage been the key? Some intense emotion the stirred something that somehow, she had either never known or simply long since forgotten? Whatever it was, there was some lingering effect- that much, she felt. The bonds.... they felt tighter. Stronger. The speed with which she could give and receive response from them was even faster, all the same with the quality. If she wanted to, by this point she felt as if she could gaze into the very depths of all their souls. And now she was entering trances within trances... And though the Mavens were silent, she could feel their trepidation. Theirs was a fear so manic and all consuming, it was as if they'd just watched an old foe they thought long since defeated rise from the dead. A foe they knew they'd stand no chance against a second time.
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