Solo The First of Many...

The Viper has finally left a task to be completed. Can Kynier accomplish it?

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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

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The First of Many...

Postby Kynier on August 28th, 2018, 10:26 pm

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58th of Summer, 518 A.V.



Each morning for thirteen days the mage had gone to the Establishment. Always there was a crowd of at least forty people waiting, hoping for employment to select them. All of them were how he had been before the middle of the past spring season. Desperate for a means of income to keep even the simplest food in their stomachs. It had been a season or longer since he last came needing to hear the crier or watch for someone who intended to select people from the crowd. Now he was hear just to search for instructions from a real pain in his life.

Kynier walked to a structure on the western side of the Establishment. Not many lingered over here, making him stand out a little. There was a collection of barrels pressed against the side of a building. One of them with a strip of white paint on the top. That was the dead drop that had been designated. The mage wandered over and sat on top of one of the adjacent barrels. For a chime he sat there and looked around, feigning to be one of the less enthused job seekers. When he felt no one was looking he popped the lid off the marked barrel and peaked inside. For thirteen days it had been empty. There wasn’t going to be a fourteenth.

A parchment sealed with wax that bore no stamp rested on the bottom. At the sight of it the mage’s heart sank. Seeing it there reinforced how real his predicament was and how he had no choice but to reach in and take the parchment. Setting the lid to the barrel back in place he opened the note there and read what was written.

The Plantations. Destroy the goods grown in Nevaeh’s fields. And only Nevaeh’s fields.


What was so special about those fields? While he didn’t know much about the Plantation, it was one of the primary sources of food for the city. Did the Viper intend to create a food shortage? For several chimes he sat there holding the note, staring off at nothing in particular. Food seemed scarce enough as it was. But then again, most of the citizens had a hard time affording it. That wasn’t true though. They could afford it if they spent less time indulging in ways to get inebriated or satisfying their libidos. So if there was a famine… the value of food would increase. It wouldn’t be limited to what was destroyed at the farms either. The demand on all food would increase. Merchants would increase the prices. More people would enter starvation. Why would that be beneficial?

To get more people to come looking for recruitment?

That was going to be his first objective. Rather than just going down and scouting, the mage-spy intended to discover some of its importance. Ashara may have him by the nether regions, but he wasn’t going to be a blind instrument of her fancy. Folding the parchment up and placing it in his pocket, the mage hopped off the barrel and started walking the streets. The impoverished may know what makes those fields so special.

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The First of Many...

Postby Kynier on August 28th, 2018, 10:27 pm

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East, towards the Seaside Markets. While the vendors weren’t the first to receive fresh goods, they were at least aware of the merchandise that would come from the Plantations. At least, that’s what Kynier thought. When he went around and asked each of the stall owners that peddled food, none of them had any knowledge of who Nevaeh was or what he grew. That was something that he found to be extremely odd. After a full bell of getting variations of the same answer, Kynier abandoned his methods. The merchants didn’t know.

Business in the Seaside Markets weren’t done yet. There were others that he could direct his inquiries too. Pickpockets, beggars, and the other less favorable citizens of a typical society could still have answers. So his eyes scanned the crowds for signs of those individuals. Strange how when one needed to be found they seemed nearly invisible. After a time Kynier managed to track down a beggar. An older woman with legs that had been broken and warped, leaving her a leper. When she saw him approach she held out both hands and begged for copper. The mage reached into this pocket and gave her five coppers. She thanked him and wished that the gods would bless his generosity.

When he held up a silver her eyes widened. “What can you tell me about a man named Nevaeh? He owns part of the Plantations.” The old woman gummed her lower lip and looked at him. A sad expression entering her eyes.

“What I know is that he’s eypharian. And that he’s cruel. That’s all I could tell you.” When the mage sighed and rose to his full height she gestured with a hand for him to not leave yet. “But… but… but… I can say that you should talk to Creoh. He’s an Inarta that used to work the fields. He doesn’t say much to the others, but he does know some of your answers. Creoh normally is in the northeast of the markets, by the produce vendors.” The information was questionable. Normally he wouldn’t give anything for it. But words from his Feather echoed in his mind about aiding others in suffering. It was only a silver to him. And it was so much more to her. Kynier bent down to hand her the silver but didn’t smile at her sheer delight as she cupped it with both hands and wished him more blessings.

“What does Creoh look like?” Inarta was a vague enough description. But the woman’s smile faded as she averted her eyes from his own and looked at his knees.

“Inarta. With one hand. His left hand.” She said in a tone that sounded like she was betraying someone. An Inarta missing his right hand. That was enough to work with.

Kynier didn’t thank the woman before he left and headed northeast. The tip about being next to produce vendors was also not a very helpful tip to receive. The stall locations changed every day. A vendor was in the north one day and in the south the next. Almost never repeating their locations until time simply chose them to be somewhere they already had been. Kynier chose to head over to the area and wander around looking more for the nearest produce vendors, then for Creoh. The man sounded smart enough to stay near a supply of food for any opportunities to obtain some scraps.

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The First of Many...

Postby Kynier on August 28th, 2018, 10:28 pm

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Thankfully, there was at least one food vendor in the northeast section of the market. When Kynier found the vegetable stall he stopped and looked around the immediate area. While there was the midday collection of visitors in the market, Kynier searched for gaps in the croud. A beggar was often stationary. Kynier imagined it was too tiring to follow people and hunt down someone charitable. That it was better to stay in one place and make their pleas.

Unable to see any from where he was, the mage started making circles around the vendor of food. Each circle was wider than the next as he looked for the one handed Inarta. After the third lap, he found the man he was told of. At first Kynier had overlooked him. There were grey streaks in the man’s long red mane. Creoh was quiet and didn’t make any pleas or gestures for donations. A tin mug rested at his feet for people to drop their coins in. The man himself had a constant sneer to his expression. This fellow didn’t look like he was going to make any charming conversation.

Kynier strode over in front of the man and knelt down to look at the inside of the cup. The mage felt the Inarta’s eyes upon him as he examined the interior. Only a few copper coins rested at the bottom. Kynier took a few coppers and dropped them into the cup. No thanks was giving by the man. The mage looked up into a pair of gold eyes. Creoh was hiding the stump of his arm behind the other elbow, and his eyes were filled with something that looked like disdain.

“Well then… move along boy,” he said with a raspy voice. “You’ve done your deed for your conscience. I don’t need any more from you.”

Kynier knelt down so he was closer to eye level with the Inarta. At that the old beggar shifted in an uncomfortable manner. The mage reached into his pocket again and withdrew a silver, but didn’t brandish it for the man. “But I need you Creoh.” The man seemed startled that Kynier knew his name. Instantly he began to shake his head wildly.

“No! NO!” the man bellowed. He started scrambling to his feet. “I won’t go back there!” Kynier was stunned for an instant at the reaction but rose up before Creoh had a chance to begin to run. It wasn’t normally how he wanted to ask questions, but he was left no choice. Kynier kicked the man in the ribs with his heel and pushed with his leg. The Inarta wasn’t fully upright yet and fell back down to the ground. Kynier drew his short sword but held it at his side.

“Stop moving Creoh.” He demanded. The one handed man whimpered and was scooting away on his back. “I have some questions and you are going to answer them.” The red haired man shook his head again.

“No! I won’t answer…” Kynier stomped on the man’s chest to get him silent. The foot remained and pressed down to discourage the beggar from trying to make any more efforts to escape.

“Nevaeh’s fields. What do you know about them?” As Creoh fought to regain his breath he looked up at the mage skeptically. As though he were expecting something else to have happened and found relief that it hadn’t, the man let his head fall back to the ground.

“Oh… you’re not one of them. Thank the gods.” Kynier arched an eyebrow at him though it wasn’t to be seen at that time. “I spent decades on that farm. Barely managed to escape. But not before…” he raised his incomplete arm as an indicator. Kynier stood silently above him, letting some of the pressure off, but not all. “Nevaeh’s a brutal master. Severs limbs and bashes legs of those who try to escape.”

Judging from the man’s missing hand, it wasn’t for trying to escape that he had been disciplined. “What’s so special about his fields? Why would they be targeted?”

Creoh lifted his head to look up at Kynier. “He’s in charge of the Pulp fields,” he said as though it was supposed to be common knowledge. Pulp? Kynier had heard the word in usage. Some sort of narcotic that was fairly common. Beyond that, he hadn’t bothered learning any more about it. Time to rectify that.

“Assume I know nothing of Pulp. Tell me about it.”

The Inarta looked at him as though the mage were some sort of simpleton. “It’s… its pulp.” Really? Kynier dug his heel into the man’s sternum. “Alright! Alright!” Kynier eased off on the pressure. “It makes you see things sometimes. Other times, makes colors brighter. Some people get an uncontrollable urge to petch. It’s never the same. You can boil it in water, eat it, or burn it an inhale. A cheap man’s drug.”

If that’s true, why destroy it?

Removing his heel from the beggar’s chest allowed the man to take deeper breaths. Kynier sheathed the short sword and took a few steps backwards to give the man some space. “Does Nevaeh own it? Or does he work for someone?”

Creoh rolled onto his left side, stunted arm cradled to his chest. “He works for the Night Eyes. They own the Plantation.”

That was the missing piece. It’s an attack against the Night Eyes. By destroying at least one of their drug supplies, or at least a piece of it, it was going to cause some sort of hindrance to the organization. Most likely one that the Daggerhand intended to take advantage of. They were being extremely bold with this maneuver. Which was why it was him committing the act. He was no body. And if caught, they couldn’t tie him with the other gangs.

The mage took two silver coins and tossed them to the ground at the Inarta. “Next time, don’t try to run from me.”

Credit for the boxcode goes to Luminescence!
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The First of Many...

Postby Kynier on August 28th, 2018, 10:30 pm

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He had returned to the Midnight Gem in order to make some preparations. Kynier intended to get this task over with as soon as he could manage it. He already had an idea of what he was going to do at the Plantation. For now he needed to create what he was going to need for that plan. Kynier did his best to calmly walk into the shop. Ebon gave him a general acknowledgement while tending to a customer. The mage walked past them and up the stairs to the private area of the establishment. He walked into the master suite and closed the door behind him.

Walking over to the desk by the window, he sat down and withdrew his journal from the drawer. Kynier flipped through the pages until he was at the first blank page of the section dedicated to the Night Eyes. Taking the Mighty Quill from his vest, he dipped the tip in some ink and began writing down what it was he had learned.

58th of Summer, 518 A.V.
The Plantations have been claimed by the Night Eyes. Whether they’ve always had ownership or not, I have no means of knowing. At those farms they don’t grow food for the masses, but a drug known as Pulp. The drug is versatile in how it can be taken and random in what it does for the user. Beggars on the street referred to it as a “cheap man’s drug”. As of now it’s run by an eypharain by the name of Nevaeh. A cruel man that maims any workers that try to escape.


Kynier pushed the journal to the side and allowed it to remain open as the ink dried. Unrolling his map of the city He set a mark down on the building lying outside the city bounds. An ellipses over the open fields of the Plantations to indicate who laid claim to it. After that he set the map aside and withdrew four blank sheets of parchment. Refreshing the ink on his quill he set the tip down and began forming a sigil. There wasn’t much spare time to be had, so his hands moved quickly. Sultatvaknui, “extend fire”, was the runic combination he formed.

While he had some moderate success at runic combinations, even when teaching Farris, this was going to be the first time he formed scrolls for usage out where people can see him, and know he was going to use them. The quill made its circles, hoops, and lines across the surface of the parchment for his Focus. After several chimes it was completed and Kynier began on his Randjaq barrier. The chain contained more links than he typically formed in it so that it could fortify more djed within.

When several more chimes had passed, the Barrier was complete and he started creating the Trigger. It wasn’t going to be a complex trigger. A simple spoken command. But he added a five tick delay to the activation. Fire caught a lot of people’s attention, and Kynier intended to have enough time to be able to be out of sight by the time it started. With the Trigger in place, Kynier set the quill down and began to meditate. Anxiety from what he intended to do made it difficult to calm his thoughts. Rather than push aside the emotions he focused on a mental image. That of a Leth over water.

The water was calm and Leth arched slowly over the sky. Focusing on that and nothing else, Kynier felt his body grow at ease. Then his mind dove into the waters of that image and reached for the deeper pools that rested in his soul. That place of power. From that deeper recess of his being djed came up to his summons, transmuting to res as it neared the surface of his body. It formed a liquid, one Kynier directed into his hands and into the sigil they surrounded. Sultatvaknui shifted with life as the power of his soul infused magefire into the scroll. Kynier fed it, and fed it more. He needed a massive fire and intended to fill the scroll to the brim. After several ticks he forced himself to stop. Randjag had not begun to glow the intensive red he knew meant reaching the limit of its purpose.

While more could have been applied, he dare not risk it. Not here. Not now. Instead, he set the scroll aside and began to replicate it on the next parchment. And the third. And the fourth.

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The First of Many...

Postby Kynier on August 28th, 2018, 10:31 pm

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A bell and a half later, Kynier was shaking the stiffness from his hand. The fourth chain of Randjaq had only just begun, but it was the fourth. There wasn’t a time he could remember sitting at a desk and drawing with such intensity. Art was relaxing to do. Glyphing, with a deadline he set for himself, was anything but. When his wrist felt better he set the tip of his magic quill back down and continued to form the restrictive chain. Forming the never-ending chain was something he was getting faster at. Though this time it was back to the beginning pace, just from the fatigue of repetition.

After ten chimes the chain had been formed in a sealing circle around his Sultatvaknui Focus. The Trigger, was the same as the other three. That way, should he get caught, it was possible to unleash an inferno all at once and aim for an escape. Kynier set his hand over the sigil and delved into himself yet again. The creation of res was more difficult and taxing than just summoning djed. It was an effort of both mind and body. The two working as one to change something from intangible energy to a physical property. A translucent purple liquid seeped from his hands and infused itself to the glyphing. Sweat lined his brow and his back as more res was poured forth into the sigil. The thought of ignition being given as the last of the power he was willing to give left his body. Sultatvaknui came to rest and the chain didn’t emit a vibrant red of irritation. The last scroll was complete.

The mage leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. Rest was what he wanted. But Syna was soon to depart the sky, and Kynier still had much work to do. So he got up and retrieved two articles of clothing he hadn’t used for a long time. The first was his black cloak which hung in the wardrobe that was designated for him. While the nights were cooler, they hadn’t been cool enough to justify its usage. Now it was about disguise more than anything. Kynier draped it over his forearm then moved to the chest.

Undoing the lock, he flipped it open and dug down to something that lay on the bottom. He pulled out his mask and set it on top of his cloak. Kynier rolled them both up into a ball to conceal what they both were and set them down on the bed. After shutting and locking the chest, he felt extremely thirsty. So he grabbed a cup and went to the bucket of water that sat down next to the pump to the well. A never-melting egg rested at the bottom of the bucket making the water even colder than it already was. Kynier took two whole servings from the frigid water and sighted happily.

With a quick glance to the sky he ran back inside and up to the master suit after setting the glass where it belonged. Kynier rolled up each of the parchments and set them in his pack, which he emptied of all other possessions first. Then he set the cloak and mask bundle in and drew it closed. Resting it over his shoulder, he stopped to consider anything else he may need. Weapons were strapped, scrolls were formed, and identity concealing was set. Once his resolve was reaffirmed, he was ready. Kynier went to the desk and made a quick note that he was going to be out late that night, but intended to be back before dawn. He left the note on the table in the common area before taking the exit from the balcony that went down and around to the front side of the building.

Kynier took several nervous breaths as he started south for the Plantations.

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The First of Many...

Postby Kynier on August 28th, 2018, 10:31 pm

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Within the city itself, Kynier had a fairly good sense of direction. Navigating the streets was something that just came easy for him. At least, after a year or so of just walking around it had. Outside in the fields it was different. Before he even reached the Plantations Kynier felt that he had stepped into a different world. The air was cleaner and didn’t smell of shyke, blood, and rotten death. Syna had left the sky to Leth who took a crescent shape and provided poor illumination. Kynier was thankful for that, and gave a prayer to both Akajia and Leth for thanks in aiding his intentions that night.

When Kynier was a few miles outside of the city he stopped and looked around. No one else was in fiew. He knelt down and slid his pack off his back. He removed the mask and tied it around his face, concealing everything below his eyes. Then he brought the cloak over his shoulders and raised the hood up. The weight of it was something he missed. It was like a second skin to him. But one that was too warm for comfort in summer.

Sliding his hand into the pack on last time, he took out the four scrolls he had brought with him. Keeping them rolled up, he slid the pack on under his cloak. Then he set off into the fields in a low crouch. With the scrolls in one hand, Kynier drew his short sword quietly with the other. Then he took a reverse grip of the handle so that the flat of the blade rested against his forearm. The mage didn’t know what to expect in regards to patrols, or if there were going to be any workers still in the fields at night. By Akajia’s blessing, he wasn’t debilitated by the low light.

Now ready for some Nightstalking, he set off and took to the side of the road in low crouch. After a few more miles he could see the fields come into view as well as torchlight from the main complex of the plantation. Kynier deviated from the main path more towards the edge of the field as he approached. When he was five paces away from the crops he noticed a torch light coming from around from behind some stalks on the other side of the road. Kynier crossed the last five paces quickly and leapt into the field just as a watchman came into view. Once he landed he crouched and froze, holding his breath. Kynier shifted his head just a little to peer through the gaps in the stalk at the watchman on patrol.

The man looked around from his position and held the torch up even higher for a moment. Once the man brought the torch back down to a comfortable hold he continued on his path around the edge of the perimeter. Kynier exhaled softly as relief washed over him. Being as light as he can on his feet, he twisted around and began to traverse through the fields, trying to disturb the plants as little as possible.

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The First of Many...

Postby Kynier on August 29th, 2018, 2:20 am

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Creeping deeper into the fields was multiple things. Exhilarating and terrifying were the two words he would use to describe it. The night was so quiet outside the city. There were no late night exchanges out here. No drugs or whores to be purchased and enjoyed. The fields were so silent that Kynier felt that his heart beat was more likely to betray his position than the sounds of his footfalls. The Nightstalker wouldn’t let his fear deter him. This wasn’t for his survival, but for the survival of others. Though he hated the circumstances Kynier was doing this to protect those under his care. Whether they acknowledged it or not. Whether they knew it or not.

After a while, Kynier stepped out into a small opening. There was a bit of a gap between the crops allowing for an easy to use path through the fields. The mage looked down both directions of the path. It was hard to determine how deep in the fields he had gotten. Kneeling down, he set the short sword on the ground and separated one of the scrolls from the others. Unfolding it first he then tried to smooth out the creases in the parchment across his thigh. Then he set it down on the ground among the crop and picked the sword back up.

Kynier took a step towards the path and etched a rune into the dirt at the very edge of the path with the tip of his weapon. Hea, “look for”. The rune itself was about a half foot wide. Hopefully large enough to see when searching, but small enough for others to overlook. For a moment, he considered just rubbing it out. Perhaps at least, taking some dead foliage and trying to conceal it more. If he did either of those, it would increase the difficulty of finding this place again. The need to have at least one distinguishing mark was stronger than the need for caution. Both risked failure. So he chose the one that offered him to be more successful. Stepping back into the crops a few paces to regain concealment, Kynier ventured through the fields, trying to follow parallel to the path that lay a few paces to his side.

One set, three more to go.

As he stalked through the fields he became a little more relaxed. Shadows where appearing around him as Leth’s light grew a little in intensity. Kynier spoke softly in Makath to give them a greeting as he moved on to the next best location he could find. Like the curious children of the Night Mother that they were, they asked what he was doing. But the Nightstalker stopped as he noticed yellow torchlight moving ahead. Kynier crouched as low as he could and pulled both his arms under the length of his cloak. Hazel eyes watched the person from just under the rim of his hood. Whoever it was walked by without pause. After a full chime had passed since the fire left his sight, Kynier continued on through the field.

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Kynier
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The First of Many...

Postby Kynier on August 29th, 2018, 2:20 am

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The path curved around the main complex. After about a mile from the first location, Kynier stepped to the edge and laid out another scroll. With his short sword he marked another Hea into the dirt. As the blade parted the soil, he considered that maybe he should imbue some res into the glyph. But then he should his head. That would take more time he didn’t want to spend. And res deteriorated if not properly sealed in a sigil, which would be much harder to conceal from the patrols. So after he finished the second marker, Kynier checked both ways down the path and crossed over to the field on the other side.

It felt like a better idea not moving between the main complex and the path that some patrols were taking. As he moved through to the third location, Kynier began questioning if he was using the best method to accomplish his task. The note had been very vague as to what to do exactly. “Destroy the goods grown” was all it said. Burning the fields seemed like the most effective way of doing that. The Viper could’ve just meant that he needed to destroy the product from the last harvest. It was impossible to say.

Another possibility, was that she was testing him. Giving him a vague enough task and waited to see what he did. That’s what he would do in her position, now that he thought of it. Kynier hadn’t been a spy for long. Had been a Nightstalker for even less time than that. The art of subterfuge was something he was still working on grasping. Trying to think two or even three steps ahead of an action was difficult. Probably because he was too focused on the next step in general. Also not having observed how everything effects everything leaves him wanting for more knowledge. It may take a few years, but he intended to get there eventually.

Looping around towards the other side of the complex was simple enough. There didn’t seem to be as many people on watch in this area seeing as how it was deeper into their territory. Most of the personnel would be dedicated to the perimeter. So Kynier found a third location and marked it with Hea like the others. Then he continued on, with one last scroll to set. Now that he was here and saw how the plantation layout was, he debated if it would be best to run along the path through the crops. When the first fire would start, it would have some time to spread. Time which would be spent by everyone else trying to put out immediately.

From the first fire he should still be cautious, to avoid being detection. Once the second scroll activated, he could then abandon caution and run down the length of the path for the third and fourth fires. No matter how many people were available, it took time to establish a bucket brigade even for one fire. If all went well, the fires would be too intense to put out and burn through the fields.

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The First of Many...

Postby Kynier on August 29th, 2018, 2:22 am

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After bells of stalking through the night, Kynier reached the fourth location. He set the parchment down deep towards the center of the field for the maximum effect. Once it was unfolded and on the ground he walked ten paces away back towards where he had placed the third scroll. There he stopped. Heart pounding in his throat causing it to go dry. It was the point of no return now. By activating the scroll he was subjecting himself to the Viper’s wishes. There wasn’t a choice in the matter. If he didn’t perform his task then the Midnight Gem would fail. Kelski thought it would come in the form of a riot when he told her. Fire and prejudice.

If only that were the case. But the Midnight Gem would fail, not be destroyed.

“Pedolx,” he whispered loudly. Kynier took a few backwards steps in his low crouch as he counted the ticks. One… two… three… four…

The scroll ignited and fire bloomed out like flower pedals to engulf the surrounding crop. Red and orange flames licked the foliage and sent forth a column of white smoke into the sky. Kynier turned and moved through the field. Faster than he originally planned. The fire was going to spread quicker than he anticipated so he needed to move unless he wanted to be caught in the budding inferno. For a hundred paces he stayed deep in the field before turning to be closer to the path that divided the crops.

Shortly, the night had awakened and people were shouting over each other. Perhaps another four chimes before something was organized. Kynier stood up and started running through the field. One hand held onto the rim of his hood to prevent it from falling back. Though he was running and forcing his way through some stalks of the Pulp crop, Kynier forced his breathing to be quieter than what he body desired. After an additional hundred paces he moved closer to the path.

No one came running from the opposite direction. Before long Kynier had reached the third scroll’s approximate location. Sweat ran down his face as the cloak forced all his bodily warmth to reverberate back on him. Trying to ignore the condensation on the mask, Kynier searched around for the Hea marker. After twenty ticks he found it. Kynier moved five paces down the path and stood in the center. “Pedolx,” he said. One… two… three… four… five…

It didn’t ignite. “Shyke!” he cried out quietly. He needed the fire, but couldn’t leave the scroll behind. Kynier moved over to where he could see the scroll from the path. Closing his eyes he worked hard to regulate his breathing somewhat. He couldn’t afford much time. Preemptively he reached in to the depths of his soulcore. The djed was as wild as he had ever felt it. Kynier knew it was risky trying to take hold of it in his mental and physical state, but he needed it! Only a small piece. Grasping a fragment of his power, Kynier summoned it forth in the form of a liquid res. It was less translucent than usual as it coated his hand. He flicked it towards the scroll and willed it to spread out like a bed sheet in the air. Ignite!

Red flames fell and covered a three foot by three foot area over the scroll. Kynier ran down the path feeling that too much time had been wasted already. By the gods, don’t let either of the other scrolls misfire! When he had gotten ten paces into his sprint, he heard an eruption of flames behind him. With a glance the fire had more than tripled in size. The scroll’s trigger had failed, but the spell inside had no faults and activated once the barrier had been destroyed.

Kynier set his eyes on the path in front of him. Short sword in his hand. And he ran as fast as he could.

Credit for the boxcode goes to Luminescence!
Kynier
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The First of Many...

Postby Kynier on August 29th, 2018, 2:23 am

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Stealth had been abandoned. His feet were taking him down the path as quickly as possible. By now, everyone had to have been running towards the fire to help put it out except for him. It was difficult to breath under the mask. Yet he kept it on incase he was wrong in his estimation of the workforce here. Though the breaths felt short of what he required, Kynier inhaled and exhaled through his nose until his head grew light. At that time he started sucking wind through his mouth.

Slowing down he started searching for the indicator of the second scroll that he had placed. It required a chime to find it and another ten paces down the path. “Pedolx.” One… two... three… four… Orange flames roared to life. Beneath the mask the mage smiled. With a small hop he launched himself into another sprint. As he did, the wind shifted. White smoke drifted across the ground and past him like a fast moving fog. Before he could react he had taken two deep breaths during his run. Kynier slowed down as he began to cough.

The smoke tasted foul though it didn’t have much of a smell. Kynier didn’t allow himself to come to a stop in the middle of the smoke cloud. He kept moving, needing to escape. Before he exited the smoke Kynier had taken nearly a dozen deep breaths of the fumes. Lungs that were already burning expanded and contracted quickly for clean air. After another half dozen intakes of smokeless air, he pushed himself into a jog for the last location.

Something strange happened. The black and gray shades of night began to morph into shades of blue and green. The colors were vibrant and his body felt a surge of energy. Looking down he saw that his hands were shaking and the skin of his fingers seemed to turn brown before him. What was happening?

The smoke! Shyke!

The mage had inhaled the fumes of Pulp. Already it was starting to affect his vision and his body felt unable to stand still. Trying to harness that sensation for his purposes, Kynier ran as fast as he could down the path. Trying hard to not scream at the strangeness of what he saw happening before him. Everything kept changing colors. Sometimes it was painful to keep his eyes open. Gods! The world should not be this vibrant at night! Something else was happening to him. Something more physical. A desire rose within him and it enflamed his carnal appetites to a degree he had never felt before. Kynier felt sick and powerful simultaneously. Both sensations battled within for dominance causing his heart to race violently within his ribcage.

A poor man’s drug! For the man was a poor soul if they ever took it twice of their own accord! Who?! Who would ever want to feel this?

Credit for the boxcode goes to Luminescence!
Kynier
Player
 
Posts: 851
Words: 1156083
Joined roleplay: May 13th, 2018, 3:14 am
Location: Sunberth
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Character sheet
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Medals: 7
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (1)
Overlored (1) One Million Words! (1)
Sunberth Seasonal Challenge (1) 2018 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)
2018 Top NaNo Word Count (1)

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