End Game: Witch Hunt.

by **Talen Stirling** on December 28th, 2011, 12:31 am

Talen looked at Zagary out of the corner of his eyes, a brief moment of thought and a glance down the rest of the party passing before he scowled in mock annoyance and retorted with as much of a provocative smirk as he could manage faced with their dark road.

"Oh please, you may not squeal like a bitch but I'm sure you'll run like one. Ain't no harm in finding out what we'll have to do without your help."

He snorted derisively and spat, his smile fading into a frown that little bit too quickly for one that was genuine. The horizon held no tales to tell for his eyes as he resumed an impatient scanning of it, and impatience to actually achieve something soon settled back upon him. Despite his worries, in spite of his doubts, there was no hesitation. They would do this, and they would succeed. The only question was at what cost. What power or ability "The Sunsinger" had he did not know, but prophecies and magic had never been his thing. No more so with the shards of memory of his past self being torn apart by wild elemental forces conjured up by some infernal magic. One that had returned to haunt them, he guessed.

The large feline moved readily at Zagary's command, and it was difficult to imagine her other form as the cat flew through the snow like a gust of wind rippling through the white-gray stillness. He wished for a moment that he could run like the predator, freely and swiftly into the distance. Away from his worries and into action. He shook his head and took to watching the skies again, with as much focus as he could muster. He was afraid, sure. But even more so he wanted to get this done, to succeed and have everyone return safely. He could almost taste degtine on his lips and see the smiles of his kin, and his steps fell faster and steadier at the thought.

by **Syllke Skyglow** on December 30th, 2011, 2:51 pm

The flight of the golden furred cat caught Syllke’s attention, and for a moment he looked up from where he had his eyes glued to the ground in front of him. But the sight of that long, sinuous, sensual body only made the bile rise in his throat. All of Denval, it seemed, could only bring physical reminders of things he could not even recall coherently. Things that lay buried, but were somehow oozing out of his subconscious, as if a jar had been cracked and slowly, ever so slowly, its noxious contents were leaking out to adulterate all around it. The day he had encountered the kelvic had not been a pleasant one. That seemed to be the story of his life at the moment. His sense of touch, which had always been how he most commonly came to know the world about him, only brought waves of uneasiness. He had taken to keeping his arms wrapped about his chest, both to try to keep in some warmth and to keep from touching things that would only increase his anxiety. In a word, he was a bloody mess.

Scowling, his gaze quickly reverted to his boots as they trudged along. To the guard, Zagary, at his side, he muttered in a grouchy tone, “What do you expect her to find? Some randy customer who can’t find his way to the temple?”

by **Caelum** on January 5th, 2012, 10:23 pm

The flight of the cheetah took whatever comment Caelum might have made, stealing it with breath from his lungs. If the Sunsinger fails, Suwor dies. Was he not supposed to kill the wizard who had brought destruction down on Denval? Questions went unspoken. He knew these stalwart guards knew as little as he, and that none but Syna Herself was like to be able to answer why She had spoken his name.

Maybe it was one more plot to drive him mad.

Sondra's low humming drew an awkward smile out of him and he let his shoulder bump her's lightly, an idea of humor even as the Vantha ignored his question in favor of caustic comments.

Unconsciously, he slid a hand beneath the flap of his jacket, running his fingers along the flat fold of medical supplies he had stored there. Through them, he felt his heart beat.

The silenced stretched thin.

He held his breath.

by **Tabarnac** on January 9th, 2012, 12:08 am

Moderator's Note :

"There's something... wrong... with that Zith," Theo noted. Indeed, its flight was ragged and mechanical to those who could see clearly beyond a the length of a bow shot. Perras made a noise of agreement.

Two more crested the escarpment above, rising slowly, gracelessly toward the first. Theo was also the first to note that they were changing direction toward Denval. He relaxed the tension on his bow, started back down the path from which they came, though Perras relaxed too to hold him there.

"Hold," Zagary growled. "Damn it, hold!" Another woman-at-arms pulled Talen back into position, who hadn't stopped for the enemy sighting. The practiced warriors drew into a more defensive formation, closer together, but still with room to use their weapons, while Zagary assessed the situation.

There was no laughter in his generally good humored green eyes when Syllke confronted him.

"She is gathering information, Master Vantha," he said tersely. "Unless you have something strategic and productive to say, you had best keep quiet." There was no room for civilian luxuries on a dangerous mission. He didn't care if Syllke resented his orders. Syllke was not responsible for the safety of the unit and the rest of Denval.

Since Lucette had not returned to report danger and he could still see her, the path seemed clear enough. He motioned a move-out, which got Talen and the soldiers moving, who got the civilians moving too, though weapons were still held at the ready. As for the cat herself, her eyes caught sight of a bit of movement, a white hare on the snow. Her stomach growled tightly in a ball inside her; she had been too nervous to eat enough before they left. A gust of wind from behind her, or perhaps the sound of her suddenly ravenous belly itself, alerted the hare to her presence and it bolted deeper into the snowy woods and off the path.

Overcome by instinct, she followed.

Zagary cursed, then ordered them to move faster. Somewhere between a trot and a run, they made their way through the calf deep snow until they broke the treeline and the snowfall was lighter yet.

"Suwor's home was built into the side of a mountainous bit," Perras explained to Caelum and anyone else who cared to listen. "It's covered with the blasted rockfall, but there's genuine mountain within it. Easier to defend, but we shouldn't have too much trouble getting in. Not physically. If he's prepared for us, though... there's the magic."

Theo cursed. "Where did that blasted Kelvic go?"

by **Lucette** on January 11th, 2012, 1:22 am

Nothing appeared odd or out of place in the woods. There was only the snow and brush, and trees. But for Zagary’s command Lucette looked again, and again saw nothing. Though it was doubtful the Cheetah would have noticed anything unusual, as she was more accustomed to indoor comforts than studying wilderness terrain. Turning her large head to look back at the group from Denval, her warm exhalations puffed tiny clouds into the cold air around her muzzle. It was time to return – but then - Movement!

Rabbit!

Immediately Hunger pressed upon her, deadly and cruel. The rush of carnivorous desire surfaced to swallow any guilt or explanation that might have waited upon her tongue. From belly to brain, its hold erased all else from her thoughts – Zagary, Denval, even the pregnancy and Veldrys... Hunger! The Cheetah froze in place, but the rodent bolted in fear and Lucette, without conscious decision followed it. Frantically she flew, they were invisibly connected - predator and prey. The rabbit bounded off the path with the Kelvic in pursuit behind, cutting the snow with her longer strides. From her strong chest, her heart pumped additional blood to her muscles as she raced. The rodent bounded over the snow easily, and Lucette’s paws dug through with her heavier weight, her tail working to rudder through the turns. The two animals zigzagged around trees and fallen braches, and white powder kicked up behind them in their haste. The wind gusted periodically, and seemingly came from every side, for in their mad cap race they changed direction time and again. Lucette’s terrible gaze only focused on the rabbit just ahead of her, and her long claws reached out to attempt to pull it down and into the snow…

by **Cryos Bladebane** on January 11th, 2012, 2:53 am

OOCSorry i'm late!

As Cryos walked with the others, he often wondered why he had come on this mission or expedition to find this man. He had remembered his past life as an armorer for the Captain, but he didn't know what all of this meant. All he knew now was that they were looking for this Suwor, but didn't know what they were going to do when they came upon him, if they could manage to get to him. Carrying his weapon with him, he continued to focus on where they were heading until they finally stopped. He was ready to defend his city at all costs, and hoped that he wouldn't die doing it, but would more than certainly be ready to if it came to that. The Isur had grown strong in Denval, his skills in blacksmithing had become quite competent, and he was slowly picking up other trades as well. Denval had taught him that, and he wouldn't allow anything to harm it, so long as he lived.

That was the reason he was on this expedition. It was to protect his home city, and he wouldn't stop until he saw the mission through to the end. Gripping his weapon tightly, he would look around as they stopped, and await any orders that might come his direction. At this point, he was not one to think for himself, but rather was one to follow the instructions given by those more competent than himself. Denval's protection depended on it, or at least that's what Cryos thought as he crouched down with everyone else, his gaze scanning the area around them, hoping that they didn't run into any unexpected trouble too fast...

by **Caelum** on January 14th, 2012, 6:34 pm

"What are Zith doing en route for Denval?" Caelum muttered, concern crunching between his teeth like the snow beneath their hurried passage. It darkened sun swallowed eyes and threw shadows across his countenance.

Nikali's chain rustled. He exhaled. It was a constant process to disallow that red brand of gnosis to work, to ignore it or at least attempt to which in and of itself felt profane.

"City guards will spot them," he replied to his own question, the corners of his mouth pulling down with unease.

They were moving, however, snow crunching and sinking beneath their steps; and when they slowed past the treeline, he listened to Perras. A sidelong glance was given Sondra before he spoke.

"Do we know what sort of magic he uses? Does anyone?"

by **Sondra** on January 15th, 2012, 1:52 am

Black, broad and more ominous than carrion crows, the Zith were a blight against the winter sky. Sondra's eyes flicked upward to follow them, her shoulders moving into an involuntary hunch.
Not for the first time, Sondra questioned her affection for weapons that required you to look at a man's eyes when you killed him.

"They're long petching way from, home," she muttered darkly.

It was the last thing she said for a while, having little to offer. When tense, her tongue followed suit. Her uselessness made her itch. She hoped the frustration would empower her when the light of opportunity broke through.

For now she stood beside Caelum and listened. Magic, she petching hated magic. Perhaps an embittered aftertaste from the life before. It galled her to think this hermit in the rock would be a flea to the Unburning One. A lifetime too late, she was left to dread and wonder over what magic an old man would fart at them.

Paring down the scenario into something she understood, Sondra gave herself simple instructions: protect and aid Caelum.
It was a natural compulsion.
She half appraised the Eth, trying to hide the fact she was considering him like prey. How would she kill this man? How would the magic laden Unburning One go about it? If she could answer that, she might know where to guard.

"A mountain cave," she suddenly observed
"Any chance we could smoke him out? Or is he fully protected?"

It might have been jibberish to martial Perras, but at least she was thinking.

by **Lysander** on January 16th, 2012, 4:43 am

The blackened shapes skirted the tree line, disappeared, and left Lysander with a boulder in the pit of his stomach. His nostrils flared, and he managed to keep his beating heart within his chest and his eyes trained on the ground. Halfway through silent contemplation over frayed bootlaces as a countable weapon, the fair-skinned woman at his side broke their shuffling silence.

Any chance we can smoke him out?

Lysander’s feet failed beneath him; he stumbled, displaced a few pebbles in righting himself, and flung a set of fingers haphazardly at Sondra’s elbow.

“Smoke him out?” Pearce Zaital leaned forward, arms akimbo, shock of red hair contrasting stark against the ruddy green of a low-hanging bush. Beneath the tangle of branches, a sinkhole no larger than his fist plunged into the ground, further than his eyes dared to reach.

“Aye, smoke; do you remember how to use that thing?”

“I’m eight, father. I’ve lit a fire before.” The boy rolled his eyes, stooped to a squat, and fingered the cool stick of flint that occupied his back pocket.

“I didn’t ask you for fire, Pearce. I asked you for smoke.”

The boy’s head whirled, and he nearly took another tumble. His hand flinched away from the clammy white of Sondra’s forearm, dove into the security of his coat. “Sorry,” he rasped, “clumsy.”

by **Tabarnac** on February 3rd, 2012, 7:52 pm

OOCOkay, it's been almost a month. I'm going ahead.

Lucette's pursuit took her longer and farther than her feline mind imagined, and when her teeth closed on the rabbit, she was surprised by the lack of copper-tanged blood gushing hot over her tongue. That was not right. Instead she had a mouth full of rot, whatever half-life the creature had been given torn out by her rending teeth. As her stomach roiled in reaction, the broken thing before her twitched and died. But a red eye stared at her unblinking, hypnotic. She could not help but stare.

Come, come to me, came a voice in her head. It commanded, seeking those passages through her mind, the foundations laid by Roland, more compassionately used by Justus, but the surefire ways to ensure her obedience.

She went, her mind gradually shutting down to numbness, and when she awoke, she was collared and crowned, her body human again, her mind alert but not her own. She was once again owned.

"Hello, my dear," said a kindly, reedy old voice.

Meanwhile, the rest of the fellowship had reached the treeline to find that Lucette was nowhere to be found. Zagary immediately began cursing at her insubordination. She should have returned as he had ordered. There was nothing worse than a recalcitrant Kelvic. Well, there was, but it was certainly inconvenient during a wartime maneuver to say the least.

Perras looked like he knew the answer to Caelum's question, but kept his mouth shut while Zagary got creative with his words, deferring to the commanding officer. Denval could handle a few Zith, even without two of its best marksmen.

"Suwor was an Aurist," Zagary said. "He could see much more than anyone else, figure things out. He dabbled in a lot of other things, and from what we can tell with the recent happenings, hypnotism and animation are likely. The hypnotism might have something to do with the Zith, too. They've never been so bold as of late, so organized. There are colonies of them in the mountains, though, beyond where we can travel without wings. Makes them tough to eliminate.

"So if hypnotism is in the mix, I need you all to respond to orders immediately and unquestioningly. If someone doesn't respond to orders, they might be ... hm, compromised. Then there's whatever magic he's using to corrupt divine magic..."

Just then there was a break in the overcast, and a sunshower sparkled on the snow. The ethaefal shared a vision, a kaleidoscopic, faceted view of Cian Noc and the others gathered within the Opal Clinic, faces arranged in an array of emotions. From above, dark hair streaming behind a runner, a gem sparkling in her hand, then the runner moving in the other direction, empty-handed. It struck the ethaefal dumb for a few minutes as they tried to process it, a message, perhaps, from the sun herself.

"He'll have some sort of defenses," Zagary said to Sondra, all unaware of the vision. "We'll have to see when they get there."

Then he called a move-out, and the ethaefal didn't have time to report. They passed through the wooded area in about fifteen minutes of swift jogging, then piled out into another snowy meadow abutting a foothill wreathed in rocky debris. But a large part of it, at least, was true mountain.

And there was the door. And there was that dark hair, recognized by the ethaefal, Siwa's darting, fearful glance behind her as she disappeared into the door.