Aftershocks (Open)

The Djed Storm of 512 hits Lhavit...and then Lhavit hits itself.

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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Aftershocks (Open)

Postby Hermit on March 7th, 2012, 5:31 am

First Day of Spring, AV 512



A beautiful day emerged from the Winter's veil, announcing the fanfare of Spring as the light of the Watchtowers had changed. Syna's love beamed across the City of Stars, glints of sunlight bouncing and spreading across its entirety. The tone of day was set as shopkeepers swept their thresholds and Shinya patrolled. Amongst the otherwise day to day activity, there was something happening at Zintila's abode. The Seiza were out in number, along with a sturdy contingent of the Shinya. The Anchorite looked through the glass dome of the temple, his eyes to the skies.

Upon the many peaks which surrounded the city, Okomo grazed, happy to eat new grass and stretch their legs. Their heads turned to the cloudless sky above them. Birds by the hundreds were passing over, flying south. Whatever senses the birds had also was passed to their earthbound cousins, as the Okomo began to herd and migrate back to the protection of the City. The resident animals, lacking in the presence that Zintila's herd had only fled mindlessly down the peaks, escaping something.

A few moments later, all of the peaks shook for a moment at once. It was brief and inconsequential in terms of structural damage, the skyglass unwavering. Now the humans and Ethaefal joined in with their Okomo neighbors, all glances turning skyward. Babies were crying ,dogs barking, but all was well. Shinyama Pavilion was evacuated and the Shinya began to coordinate, covering each peak with at least one of their number in each shop, surveying and aiding where needed. The Ascendant had called for one of the Devoted to appear, commanding that two Clouds, each a unit of one hundred Shinya exit the City. One hundred moved to herd the Okomo into the protection of Lhavit and gather any stragglers and patrollers in. The other Cloud split, one moving quickly to the base of the peaks to aid the farmers and laborers at the bottom of the pulley system which brought the entirety of Lhavit's imports up, the other half at the top, gathering the loads already delivered and escorting the Autava to safety. Ominous violet and azure clouds covered the sun, as lightning of every color began to streak from the heavens.

The majority of the city moved to its heart, to the constitution of the buildings for aid and safety. Zintila had always provided and this day would be no different in their minds. Orderly crowds began to move across the spans connecting the peaks as multicolored rain began to fall, a delight to the children. The winds behind this colorful light show began to rise and howl through the peaks, carrying power unbound within its own heart. A bell later, the streets were quiet, short of the nervous neighs of Okomo as Shinya moved them inside. The howling winds only gained in strength, thunder echoing and rumbling along the valleys, strangely reverberating through the city with a tonal quality.

The storm carried a massive amount of Djed within itself, its presence first known to the peaks and those who had not come out of the rain. Frequent and anxious calls bleating from the Okomos came at once as they broke free of the Shinya who attempted to wrangle them. They ran with all of the strength in their massive bodies toward the City. A large stag remained, tethered with Projected limbs by the stalwart protectors, who all turned their heads to the northeast, seeing what no other living person did or would again. A great massive flow of Djed rolled over the peaks like a waterfall, pushing through the valley they held. With no reason to run, they released their hold on the great stag, whose horned head turned also. In the passing of the wave, one hundred Shinya lay dead along the valley floor, their Projected bodies vomited from their bodies. One hundred ghosts remained, looking on to the stag, who did not die. The flora of the area was stripped bare of all life with them, leaving only a barren strip of sand and rock in its wake.

The Autava and Shinya inside waited as the winds slammed into the walls of the city. Roofs flew free and anything not tied down in the streets was tossed about at the whim of the storm. Short of children and idiots, the mood was fairly calm. Zintila had provided and protected those in the city since its birth. The snow capped peaks quickly sloughed off their winter coats with the heated blasts inside the storm's angry stomach, the detritus and the rocks which held it began to come down all over the peaks, boulders shattering the buildings beneath them, though thankfully uninhabited. Short of the trouble of getting the cargo of the pulleys in line, there was nothing to fear from the storm.

Or so they thought. Its silent messenger, the fuel of the fires of magic, could hold no root among the Divine skyglass. However, much of the buildings lived in wood and earth as well, the initial waves harmlessly traveling around, but as each greater wave of Djed slammed into the buildings, things changed. Masters of true sight, the Aurists were the first to witness, as expected. Screams echoed through the halls of their tower as nearly every one of them, save the lucky novices, bled freely from their eyes. Some could see every aspect and nuance of Mizahar and Lhavit, the sheer volume of information driving some mad. Some were stricken irreversibly blind, both from light as well as the conception of auras. Later, some would see their curse as a blessing, when compared to the others.

The Twilight Tower groaned, a mad symphony of roars, hisses and howls echoing through its honored halls. Once human, now pure artworks of flesh as well as nightmarish mishmashes stormed from the hall and out into the streets, their bodies out of their control. Some things flew, some things ran, some slid across the ground leaving rainbow slime trails. It was if a river of flesh and bone traveled out of the mouth of the tower, spilling out into the violent storm and the hardened city.

If this was all there was to be, it would be tragic and hard to recover from, but it would be manageable. The stalwart and honorable people of Lhavit would band together and clean up the messes, moving on. Unfortunately, one tower remained. Its cry was heard as its dome crown exploded, lifted from the forces inside and landing among the expensive shopping district a peak away. Fiery flying boulders ripped themselves free of the peaks and began to slam into the skyglass walls, frozen lightning sheared down into houses, their remnants then crashing into the streets once the Djed slipped loose. The elements were as chaotic and insane as the Magi wielding them, each cackling with an insane glee, throwing greater and more powerful spells to top the ones last thrown.

Knowing the risks involved, the Ascendant sent another Cloud out into the City to bring the chaos down before it brought the City to its knees. A war raged in the streets as any use of Projection brought the same price it did outside the City, the astral body of the user merely ripped free of the flesh. Fortunately, the majority of the Shinya had many more weapons in their arsenal. They would need every one.
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Aftershocks (Open)

Postby Elhaym on March 7th, 2012, 7:36 am

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No one cared that her sash was white. Dingy blue they may have been, but her robes signaled authority. A small flock had gathered at Elhaym's heels as she ushered a group of Lhavitians from the outskirts of the Sartu Plaza, shuffling as the low hum of their voices pervaded the air. Oh, the air. There was something in it, something faint and elusive that made her normally keen senses seem like a dullard's. A small child rode on her back, his tiny fleshy arms wrapped tight around her chest while he sobbed into her neck. She supposed it was his sister she held tightly in her left arm, cradling her as if she were only a suckling babe rather than a growing five year old. Only her right arm was unburdened, and today the blade it bore was more a shepard's crook than a masterfully created weapon. Sheathed it was, but it gleamed with a slick black finish and seemed to further her authority with the few she had gathered. Slowly they trudged until they met other small rivers of people flooding towards the central safety of the Surya Plaza.

“We'll find your momma, don't you worry.” She grunted, but the little boy only wailed in reply. Perhaps she shouldn't have mentioned his mother again. The girl was more composed, though Elhaym thought numb would be a more apt description. Her body was limp, eyes glazed over as if in a state of endless dreaming. “It's okay, little man. Just hold on tight. I won't leave you alone, okay?”

The wailing subsided, and she felt his forehead nudge her shoulder as he nodded. No child deserved to feel alone. Ever. Elhaym's teeth ground together as her eyes scanned the crowd in a vain search for the Shinya who she had accompanied here to help escort the civilians. Not all the Acolytes had answered the call to help, but Elhaym was ten years senior to the typical Acolyte and likely twice as brave (Or reckless if you asked most), so she had not hesitated. Petty jealousy and irritation at her own station in life had taken a backseat to a fierce maternal instinct to protect those who needed it so badly. So she trudged on, burdened by children and old men and strapping young lads who all looked to her for guidance. Or they looked to the blue. It mattered not; she was all they had today.

The initial tremor had been terrifying. An upturned bowl of spicy noodle soup soiled the gleaming floor of her room in the Pavilion, a testament to her activities prior to that of being a shepherd. Tremors she could deal with, but the sky truly unnerved her. Her eyes were cold and dark, unendowed by beautiful genetics to remain a dark brown for her entire life, yet unbeknown to her they almost glowed in the ambient light of the sky. It was as if the gods had stretched a canvas over Lhavit in a fit of boredom and slashed away with brushes loaded with paints simple mortals could never comprehend. A tear invaded, running down her cheek as her mind raced into the past. It was her brother Erik, poking her in the ribs and proclaiming his latest painting a masterpiece. It had featured such a colorful sky... a sky like this. A sky for her brother, the very reason she had ever come to Lhavit in the first place. Could it be a sign?

Her eyes exploded with wetness, but tears were not to blame here. The sky was tearing open, showering Lhavit with the wet drippings of the God's artful interpretation of her dead brother's passion. The young girl cooed in her arms, and her other passenger let out a low pitched groan in confusion. They were in the thick of it now, and she could see the other Shinya herding the masses into the great structures crafted from the essence of Zintila. She had always believed in the Gods, but Zintila's power was evident to anyone who set their sights on Lhavit. She had never been so glad for such a blatant display of godly strength. Through massive doors her flock disappeared, Elhaym waiting patiently with her two wards for the last of them to pass. As intoxicating as it was to be outside, it felt wrong. The wind had begun to howl, and Lhavit's architecture seemed to sing in response. Her feet were the last to pass through as the massive doors slammed shut, and the world dimmed into something less beautiful… into something so much safer.

-----


The world screamed and so did the children. Elhaym crouched beside them with twin heads buried at her bosom, willing the world back to normal with their screams and failing in their task. She ran her fingers through their hair and whispered sweet words to calm them until they came around. Only then did she unleash her secret weapon; a favor she had called in from a passing Initiate in the Pavilion who had blessedly held to his word.

“Tanny, fus!”

Her little brown sitkanis bounded between shuffling legs to her, waggling his little tail as fast as he could. Their little language was a byproduct of working in the Tooth and Claw in Syliras, and he had responded well to her call amidst the murmuring in the massive hall.

“Pate, Alanda... this is Tanny. He's my best friend, and the bravest dog in the world. He's saved my life three times, he has.” She cooed, rubbing him between the ears even as the two children descended helplessly on her old dog. He was devious in his mannerisms and loved children. Her odd yet fateful though that he would be helpful if any children needed a cheerful distraction had paid off in full. Those dull brown eyes of hers floated up to the massive double doors, where two Shinya spoke quietly. One of them caught her gaze, and beckoned her over with a subtle finger. Her throat tightened horribly. What did they know?

“Tanny will keep you safe, I promise. He's a good dog, the best you could ever find. You'll watch him for me, right?”

The two children nodded solemnly, and she rose after giving each a pat on the shoulder. Her stride was much more sure than her heart when she approached her betters at the door. Her body shuffled uncomfortably as she rescured her sheathed blade into her sash with clumsy and shaking fingers. Whispered words and hushed tones were hard to understand, but she understood enough. Something had happened to the towers... and to the men and women inside. An order had come down, and a messenger had spread the word to their corner of Lhavit that the Shinya were mobilizing. There was no fanfare, no roaring support or valiant speech to the people. The three of them slipped out of the door without a word, and burned their legs as fast as they could down the glowing streets of Lhavit.

She ran beside her brother and sister, the one she called Master Grandpa because he was just so damned old. He kept his pace with her as if she were a toddling babe though, and she respected him more than she ever had before in that moment. Matching his and her stride to a tee was the ebony skinned Shinya she loathed for being so beautiful, but there was no beauty in her eyes today. The three of them careened toward the Dawn Tower, and likely their deaths.

Her thoughts went to those children, and all the other people in that room. To the laughing fat man who always gave her a greasy shishkabob from his food cart when she passed, and the snotty bitch who worked part time at Piramba's and never got Tanny's special food right. To Master Grandpa and the Vixen, who formed a spearhead into the heart of the city's tribulation alongside her.... and of course, to her little dog. This city was her home, and today was not a day for her drama, her hate, her insecurity or her jealousy.

Today was a day to fight.


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Aftershocks (Open)

Postby Rorugir on March 10th, 2012, 9:37 pm

The air hung heavy with Death, a scent Rorugir had become very familiar with in those few bells.

The waterfall of wild, unrestrained djed had barely passed by the roots of Lhavit before a copper bell rung out across one of the peaks. It had been nearly torn into the skies by the storm, but a superior construction that was the fault of the very shop that used it had managed to save it. Its shrill shriek rung in time with a door being flung open, and with a short man emerging from the depths of a shop. His eyes were glazed by fire and fear, but his movements were assured and powerful. Conscientiously, Rorugir ignored the cries of warning from within the smithy and made his way out into the streets.

Buildings of Zintila’s divine skyglass shrugged off the firestorm above, but their wood and stone compatriots weren’t so lucky. Burning pitch and rubble alike had to be avoided as he set off in a random direction. A battleaxe, unused since two seasons past, swung in an old embrace with Rorugir’s silver veined right hand. From the other, fingers were outstretched, ready to call effervescent res to them when the situation called for it.

His path took him along the Tenten Peak, where magic towers stabbed into the air like so many swords he had seen in his time at the Touch of Fire. He had been interested in those towers once, the Dawn, Dusk, and Twilight; but in the end he had decided to keep his knowledge to himself. His allegiance remained to only his fellow isur and especially to the Pitrius clan.

But now, something was happening to one of the towers. It took a moment for his multitasking mind to recall which one; Twilight. The guardian monks, the Shinya, seemed to be converging on that location, passing even a commoner such as him in their haste. Thinking that this would be the best place to start, the isur headed there.

The surrounding area was awash with magic, something even a non-aurist like Rorugir could see. Trails of rainbow slime carried out from the doorway, and the cries of beasts he’d never head before carried in the shell shocked air. The determined stride that had carried him hither slowed as he stopped to survey the true damage the storm had wrecked here. But with every glance, his heart plummeted further and further.

But wait – there. Who was that? Rorugir turned slightly just in time to see another Shinya draw close to the Tower. She almost seemed...familiar...

Elhaym.

Rorugir’s eyes widened and he turned to approach him. In his shock he barely saw the two other guardsmen by her side. “Greetings, Elhaym Vormav.” He greeted concisely. Or was it hurriedly? “There are still people inside. I assume you are here to help, yes?”

Rorugir tilted his head to the side and hefted his axe, an errant ray of light managing to illuminate the coldly glittering sheen of isurian steel. “I am here to help as well.”
This is Rorugir's speech when he speaks in Common...
...And this is Rorugir's speech when he speaks in Isur.
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Aftershocks (Open)

Postby Hermit on March 14th, 2012, 3:32 am

A true testament to the Shinya was that each and every one of them had been chosen to become what they were. Each had put in the time and effort, the years of training, all to put their faith in Zintila and the skyglass which protected the city. Their ability to work as a unit was unparalleled and it became clear as the waves of chaos and Djed washed through the streets and over peaks like a great tsunami.

It began when others witnessed the new side effect of the use of Projection, the time honored magical practice of the Shinya. Be it Aurists or common sense, before long the calls of 'No Magic!' and 'Projection is Fatal!' spread through the streets as fast as the elemental chaos spewed by the Reimancers, the most popular of the schools due to its destructive power. This only slightly lessened the abilities of the protectors. Each was a master or mistress of weapons and unarmed combat. The majority of the temporarily insane mages only had their hemorrhaging magical batteries to fight with. Fortunately for them, the Shinya had the presence of mind to realize that these souls, twisted and lost in overgiving, were still Autava. Most, unless in self defense, went down with sharp blows to the head, rendering them unconscious.

Sometimes, however, fatal force reciprocated itself. Disciplined and practiced as the Shinya were, they were still mostly human, full of charged emotions. The Reimancers and Morphers were all but consumed by a desire to overgive, the choice only conscious in that it came through their egos, forcing their hands. Morphers were everything imaginable. Some were using their models, with various animals flying, running, slithering, crawling in every direction. they still seemed off as if trying to stretch free of even those malleable confines. Most were on fire, considering the favorite element used by the destructive Magi.

Gouts of flame and lightning flew from the mouth of the Dawn Tower. Several Shinya were already braced behind a wall of partially destroyed skyglass. While immune to the effects of Djed, it was still only a stronger version of glass, making it easy prey for the Djed induced stones, spikes and spears that were hurling out from the top of the tower's now open top. It would be apparent to Rorugir and Elhaym that there was some kind of argument going on behind the makeshift barrier. When a long tongue of fire lashed out and engulfed several of the defenders who weren't protected, the argument ceased. Spears and arrows began to fly into the smoke filled mouth of the tower. It was becoming readily apparent that the silencing of these mages would be permanent.
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Aftershocks (Open)

Postby Elhaym on March 15th, 2012, 6:25 am

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The destruction was terrifying. Amazing. Lightning streaked from the towers as if they were thunderheads and flames whistled overhead, highlighting the grotesque features of things she couldn't have spawned even in her nightmares. She truly began to grasp the chaos of the situation when the winged creature she was watching was struck by a stray bolt of rippling lightning. It was hard to see; the colors were so intense that detail was nearly lost, and the air was charged as if it threatened to become solid itself. Yet she could distinguish the beast clear enough to know it had just been blown to pieces, and it had showered Lhavit with it's filth and gore. The city was under siege, but it was not from a unified enemy. Every mage inside those towers had gone mad, and they seemed content to kill anything they perceived as a threat. Apparently, that was just about anything their drunken eyes set upon.

The three of them were transfixed on the destruction when a familiar voice tore her from her awe. Quickly she shook her head, as if that would expel the color and violence from her mind for a moment. The man with the voice approached, but he was short, and speckled with silver... ah. A welcome sight, this Isur. Rorugir was only a smith, but here he stood with one of the finest looking weapons she had ever seen. If only Lhavit had more Isur to crawl out of the woodwork with weapons like these during a time of crisis.

"We meet again." She said flatly, forgoing any other formality. Bows had their place; this was actually the last place in the world she intended to waste time with one. "Yes, we're going to... I don't know what we're going to do. Good gods, look at this."

She swept her hands toward the towers and the horrors around it. The air crackled and snapped, and somewhere in the distance she heard a deep grumbling that seemed to shake her to the bone. It sounded like a roar, but the shear power of it was staggering. She couldn't even see what caused it, not did she care. Her task was set before her.

"Come with us then. Lhavit is not only the Shinya's to protect." She said, casting a cool glance at the two senior Shinya beside her. They both had a doubtful look on their faces, but her words seemed to strike a chord with the both of them. A nod from each, and three were now four. It was not much further to the foot of the towers.

-----


The pounding of her feet were silent, if only because of the chaotic noise that blasted from everywhere at once. Their group came upon the ragtag collection of Shinya who were spearheading this tiny conflict, but to Elhaym it was the only thing in the world right then. The tower itself loomed, crippled and ominous and spewing death from every fissure in it's scarred surface. Elhaym took a step towards the Shinya who were barricaded behind the shattered remnants of a skyglass structure, but a firm hand took her by the shoulder and jerked her back. She didn't have time to yell that they were wasting time arguing instead of acting; the mages sent that message clearly with a splash of liquid res that burst into flames and consumed several of her brothers and sisters.

Elhaym witnessed a man who once wore blue screaming in agony, collapsing to his knees even as the flames consumed him. He screamed endlessly until his body gave out, and he fell face first to the ground. The flames continued. It was not the first time she had seen a man burn, but it was still enough to make her want to retch. The smell that pervaded the air was thick and offensive. She took a step back just as the Shinya began to unload a host of projectiles into the gaping mouth of the tower; if the earlier argument had been how best to proceed, that decision had just been made.

"Rorugir!" She screamed, lurching to the side as a cascade of frozen shards exploded nearby and pelted her with small chips of ice. Frantic hands swept the freezing shards from her neck where they had already begun sticking to her skin, and she bit back a curse. "I'm going in there!"

The Vixen and Master Grandpa had scattered from the blast of freezing ice, but they reformed now. A quick shout to Elhaym gave the order to advance, and repeated the warning that had been spreading.

“Djed is not to be trusted, rely only on the strength of flesh and steel!”

They disappeared through the growing haze towards the even smokier entrance to the tower. Elhaym waved for her Isurian companion to follow, and prayed he knew how to use that ax of his half as well as it looked. She pivoted and began running, hoping to make herself as brief a target as possible for any crazed man or woman looking for an ant to squash. Even as arrows whizzed by her and into the gaping mouth of the tower she reached to her side, yanking her sheathed blade free from her sash and carrying it freely in her left hand. She didn't draw it yet; she could see little inside the tower's entrance and didn't want to stick one of the Shinya should she charge right into one. The relentless Shinya assault heeded for a moment as she neared, presumably so she could quickly get inside. She obliged them for their small gift.

She didn't know if Rorugir was behind her or not, and honestly she dared not look back. Any number of magical blasts had scorched the streets during her brief charge; any one of them could have meant his demise. Her own attention was focused on smoke that engulfed her as she leapt through the threshhold of the tower…

…and straight into hell itself. Her eyes were watering and stinging when she emerged into the once grand foyer of the Dawn Tower. The destruction was spectacular; charred smears marred the walls and several of the massive skyglass coronas were shattered on the floor, the candles they held strewn about and some still burning. Ice cracked under her feet and crawled up the walls like a spiderweb of veins, and that was only the beginning of the sensory overload within. It was hard to grasp the spastic forms of men and women shuffling about in their bliss and agony, and Elhaym had little time to comprehend before the Shinya forced her into movement. Their projectiles resumed, arrows and short spears feathering the walls and the corpses they had already claimed to her side. She shuffled quickly into a darkened corner where she could compose herself before continuing on. The hall was massive, and she could feel the air stirring against her skin and in her hair. A massive window along onc side of the hall had once given a grand view of the city, but now it was shattered and charred, manned by out of control reimancers who heaved storms of pure death to anything they saw fit below.

The two Shinya who had accompanied her and Rorugir earlier were nowhere to be seen, despite the dazed men and women shuffling about. She risked being noticed and thus becoming their target; Elhaym had to strike now and try to help bring an end to this madness. A young man backed into view, spinning gaseous power into both hands in preparation for another magical onslaught. Hesitation went to the wind. She charged.

Her blade sang as it came free from a wood and steel prison, and she discarded the sheath as she ran. All the training she had received with her blade vanished as she took a grip with both hands. She struck with instinct alone, plowing into the the young Reimancer's back and driving her blade through his backside and out through his chest. Something hot and wet dribbled onto her hands as she yanked her blade free, giving the extinguished mage a kick to send his sprawling carcass to the ground. His dying scream had dominated the room in that unfortunate moment when everything seemed to have grown silent...

One by one they turned. Three of them, young men and women. The youngest was a girl of perhaps sixteen, and her tongue smacked against her lips greedily as she set her sights on her new prey. On Elhaym.

“Rorugir!?” Elhaym shrieked as a cascade of flame descended upon her, but she was no slouch. Her body moved with the practiced response of a warrior, and now she careened down the hallway with a trail of destruction erupting in her wake and splashing all around her. They were intently focused on her, but from the looks of them all they were nearing the limit of their power. Yet she was helpless to do anything but flee and dive behind pillars and overturned benches of stone and skyglass. She had not noticed him since she had come inside, but truly it had only been a few seconds since she set foot in the tower. He should have been right behind her!


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Aftershocks (Open)

Postby Rorugir on March 15th, 2012, 8:47 pm

Dark eyes trailed after Elhaym’s bleak hand, following it to the Tower from which they all stood in awe. Rorugir’s gaze was lost in the detail of the dreadful scene before them, as lightning speared down from the sky to strike the fearful earth below, as creatures spawned from dark imaginations crawled and slithered and flew, and as the laugh of a madman sailed out over the scene of destruction he and his companions had created.

Isurian features hardened, became like the stone they were modeled after. “They must be stopped.”

Rorugir followed Elhaym to the second, larger group of Shinya, which huddled behind a wall of skyglass sloughed off by a restless peak. He arrived just in time to catch the end phrase of an argument, and was just about to ask why they were here and not fighting the insane magi when hungry flames burst forth from the tower of Dawn, to greedily engulf several outlying men and women that weren’t hidden far enough behind the wall.

That included the man right in front of Rorugir.

There was a sharp intake of breath as Rorugir saw the man standing but two paces in front of him become consumed in a magical flame, falling to the ground, writhing like a worm as the djed-fueled fires turned his insides into crisps. After a second Rorugir had stepped forward, trying to help, but even as he did he knew it was too late: the man was dead.

Oh, to die such an ignoble death! This was not a way for one an honorable guardsman such as this man to go. And, in his final act this man, this stranger, had shielded Rorugir from the consuming flames. He owed his life to this Shinya he did not even know. A strange expression settled across Rorugir’s face as he stepped down to lean over the man, and even in this battlefield, even as hostile magic rained down overhead, Rorugir began to pray. And not for him – no, he prayed for the soul of the man who had unwittingly sacrificed himself to save Rorugir.

And perhaps, even as he chanted the isurian prayer, he realized that this was the fault of magic.

Magic was the heart that drove Rorugir’s clan, Pitrius, its lifeblood and its protector. Unlike some in the outside world, Rorugir had grown up with a neutral glance as to magic; it was only as good or bad as the user wielding it. But the simple smith had not paid attention to magic’s darker side. He had not seen the bleak temptation that even he, as a mage, fought off every day. He had not truly experienced the effects of overgiving, the will that drove magi further and further, to push their limits farther and farther: and, as with all attempts, there would come a time in which you would go too far.

But that was what Rorugir was seeing now.

“I’m right behind you!” He roused just in time to hear Elhyam’s words. His response had to be shouted over the noise of the frenzied madness, but his actions afterward were quick and clean. He swiftly followed the human into the hall of the Twilight Tower, into the great hall that lay beyond.

The destruction was, if such an act was even possible, greater in here. Rorugir had to stop and harden himself to the scene of death and destruction that lay beyond, the hands on his axe whitening as his grip tightened reflexively. He steeled himself and stepped forward now, just in time to hear the scream of one claimed by Dira echo throughout the near-silent room. A glance caught Elhaym freeing her blade from a wizard’s stomach, registering in alarm as he realized he wasn’t the only one watching her.

Rorugir ran forth at once as flame descended on Elhaym’s position, an errant thought breathing relief as he saw her take cover. The three magicians’ attention was on Elhaym for the moment, and they were busily expending their magical resources trying to dispatch her – maybe Rorugir could use that to his advantage.

Rounding around the mages, Rorugir took cover behind a fallen skyglass corona, feeling a sting of pain as he stepped on a still-lit candle. He had just managed to make it around the edge of the corona before one of the mages caught sight of him. He opened his mouth in alarm; but Rorugir was close to him now, and-

The young man found his voice stolen from him, suddenly. The deluge of fire which had been spraying from his hands ceased at once. Dumbly, the silenced man looked down, down at the sparkling blade that had rooted itself just above his heart.

With a spray of blood Rorugir freed his axe from the man’s chest, and he watched the limp body fell to the ground.

The rest were following Elhaym down the hall. And, though he dreaded it, he knew if he didn’t do something immediately, one of those flames might manage to hit the woman. He had to act now.

“Hey!” he shouted, making his voice loud enough to carry down the hall. “Your buddy wasn’t strong enough to take me on. Think what you have what it takes to defeat me?!” Rorugir followed this with a derisive laugh, as if the idea itself was ridiculous. If this didn’t manage to attract the overgiven mages attention, he didn’t know what would.

Rorugir ducked behind the corona once more as he prepared for their onslaught. An errant thought registered that attracting the attention of insane men and women that could spew fire from their hands was probably a very, very bad idea...
This is Rorugir's speech when he speaks in Common...
...And this is Rorugir's speech when he speaks in Isur.
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Aftershocks (Open)

Postby Hermit on March 15th, 2012, 11:18 pm

It was pure chaos. This was more than evident to the stalwart pair, though they still had their minds to navigate through the madness with some sort of rationality. Like a candle burning on both ends, the overgiving mages did not have this barrier. They were riding higher than anyone could imagine, oblivious or completely uncaring of the fuel burning in their bodies, spending them quickly. This is what happened with novices, those barely competent enough to manage their Djed, faltering flames and wisps of power. Though the top of the tower was open, there were many floors and rooms on the way down yet to be explored, yet to be discovered.

The girl who had seen fear in Elhaym's face was lost in her own flames. She broke free of the other mage, who had turned to see a brother fallen by Rorugir's axe. The little tyrant began to shriek with a twisted squeal, warped by Djed and the sweet whispers, which had become bloated screams of power,deafening out all sound except for the screams of the fallen. Her reserves were going quickly, left only to take the Shinya pig with her. Her eyes opened wide, her breathing became rapid and shallow, her arms stretched out as if waiting for a hug, fingers tickling the air. The Djed present mixed with her own, sweeping across the floor and walls around and behind Elhaym's hiding spot. The child drooled Djed, lost in the insane glee of creation. The Djed spread over the ceiling and onward. Little did the little princess know that it was also spreading around her. With the spark of will, the entire area was engulfed in flames, an amoeba of living fire, swarming over everything, engulfing the child entirely. her charred corpse landed on the ground without a whimper.

The remaining of the triad, a thin and robed middle aged man, turned to see the axe drop his compatriot. The explosion of flame behind him a minor annoyance, he brought his hands up, Djed spilling into a large sheet, wide at the base for support. It became ice, glowing orange with the wave of flame pressing its exterior. His eyes swiveled at the Isur, hearing his taunt and turning toward him, watching him scurry away. It made sense. They had no hope, the mage thought with a cold and cruel intellect.

"Hide, rat!!!"

Similar sheets of ice ran in parallel lines on either side of Rorugir. The mage pushed Djed into the walls on either side of the interloper, closing them toward his prey as they became heavy and ponderous. His hands were frostbitten and his moves were sluggish from the cold he was generating, a hot bath of steam rising between the opposing generated elemental forces. It pushed through the hall where the other Shinya pushed forward. The room they entered was littered with elemental detritus and bodies burned, frozen, crushed and drowned. A spiral staircase, once opulent in its craftsmanship, hissed with smoke and dying flame. Footsteps traveled its turns until a pair of male twins, both fair skinned and fair haired emerged, lost in their own bickering.

"....surely not worth our time, Mellin."

"Well, if it is our time to die, I choose to take each and every one of these brutish thugs with me."

Still calm and monotone, the taller of the two, Jern, looked to see the Shinya filing in, weapons at the ready. A series of hand gestures and long strokes of the fingers brought lightning into the room, sending them flying and ducking for cover. The tremendous explosive power shattered everything made of glass in the room, short of the Divine variety.

"Do you see? They intend to cut us into ribbons of meat, Mellin. They are below us. Dispose of the rubbish."

The shorter one called Mellin, slightly portly in comparison to his waif brother, nodded and chuckled.

"What can they do?"

In response a spear flew through the air, its mark the chubby killer's chest. its arc and execution perfect, it missed its mark, a second horizontal pass of Jern's fingers pushing it aside with wind. The attempt made Mellin's face go red, petulance dripping from his pores as easilty as Djed. His face scrunched up and his hands became small cups as if he held something. Above the attacking force, Djed solidified into rocky spheres. Each one perhaps weighed ten pounds at the most, but their frequency and number made them a deadly rain of pulverizing terror.
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Aftershocks (Open)

Postby Elhaym on March 17th, 2012, 8:24 am

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OOCThis post is really long, but this didn't feel like something I could skimp on. Read it in chunks if you have to my intrepid threadmates!

A challenge roared as Elhaym pressed her back against a pillar of stone, blessed stone. It had to have been Rorugir, and though she couldn't see him with her back turned to the majority of the hall she was glad he was alive. Whether or not she was glad for his sake or her own was lost, but she did notice that had been a cascade of every combination of death she could image exploding around her diminished to something more manageable. In comparison, anyway. With a firm grip on her blade and a throat full of bile she rounded her pillar, pressing whatever momentary advantage he had gifted her in a mad dash towards the first warped figure she locked onto.

She had just hit her stride with her blade swept to her side in a two handed grip, intent on slicing the little bitch clean in two when she realized what was happening. The young girl had her arms spread wide as if she intended to embrace Elhaym, but her jaw was slack and her eyes oblivious and dead. Something crawled around her, distorting the world and vibrating with ferocious but yet unclaimed power. Halting fully was impossible, but Elhaym's former plan went from reckless to insanity even in her brazen mind. She peeled off to the side, cutting back and pounding her legs as fast as they would carry her away from the soon to be unleashed Reimancer. As fast as she ran, she could still see the distortion of gaseous res spreading under her feet and through the air around her. An upturned bench was smashed against the pillar she had formerly taken cover behind, her target once more as her body roared toward it's safety.

Something tickled her back, and the world seemed to slow. Her foot slammed into the ruined surface of the bench and she pushed harder than she ever had, flinging her body upwards. She began to spin out of control and her blade flew free from her hand in her ungraceful leap that had rapidly turned into a plummet. In that brief moment she saw the young girl in full view explode. It was all that she could process, but in reality it was much more devastating.

"Oh fu-"

Her words were lost as the res in the air simply ignited into a liquid flame that swirled and hissed and reached for her desperately. It was not unsuccessful. Her left arm wafted through a pocket of the deadly miasma just as it too swelled to life in bright orange and red. Then the girl was gone and she was spinning, and the ground rushed up to her and she collided clumsily, rolling brutally until she came to a stop. Her back slid into the legs of a wooden display teeming with glass sculptures, the entire thing crashing over her and spilling the former works of art all around her. Some shattered while other miraculously remained whole, a testament to their workmanship.

That fall in itself was enough to warrant a harsh groan, but what her throat produced instead was no routine cry. It was hot blooded, fueled by the sudden onset of agony and the realization of what had just happened. Her left arm was aflame, the robes no longer even visible as she set her eyes on the glowing form of her own flesh burning. She kicked wildly, knocking the wooden case off of her while ripping at the robe she wore. It should have been harder to remove, yet somehow it was off in an instant and smothering the flames that had kissed her so fiercely. Her right arm moved with an urgency she couldn't comprehend, swatting the flames and snuffing them out up along her arm, across her shoulder and up her neck, onto her cheek...

Her scream subsided into a whimper as she collapsed onto her back. To her side an arm lay still, a mess of blood and charred black flesh curling up where the smothering had peeled it right off her arm. Was that really her body? The sound of grinding teeth pervaded the air when she simply had no strength left to yell, and she found herself laying limp on the hot stone floor of the hall. She had been stabbed, beaten, shot with crossbows and so much more, but nothing compared to this. There wasn't a way to comprehend the pain, so she lay there with her jaw slack and her eyes glazing over. Elsewhere, she heard the sounds of men and women screaming and fighting and perhaps dying, but she didn't care. She was done.

-----


Her eyes fell upon a piece of broken glass that had settled next to her, and from the flame of a mostly melted candle that had all but melted to the floor she saw her face. It was a bloody ruin. She tried to yell, or cry, or anything, but she was truly and utterly numb. Was she going to die? She heard footfalls all around her, buzzing with life and urgency yet she simply lay there in sloth and stared. It was horrific, and a sudden flash of light illuminated the glass just so that she saw the full extent of the damage. That terrible sight lasted only an instant before the glass began to vibrate, and for the second time in only a moment the world exploded. She let out a blood curdling scream as she spasmed onto her side, hot wetness splashing down her tattered flesh and dripping freely from her chin.

Pain be damned, Elhaym was on her feet and screaming in an instant. Her charred arm flailed uselessly as she cradled her face and shrieked, stumbling this way and that and smashing into walls and benches and over gods knew what. She stopped and hunched over, her entire body shaking in shock of what had just happened. When she raised back to a standing position, it was only more chaos she saw with what vision she had left. The Shinya had pushed through the main hall, but they were dying in swaths to an even harsher display of reimancy. Men and women crawled and bled, their limbs flattened into bloody heaps or their heads smashed into a gory pile on the ground. It was too much. In the few moments she had been inside this gods forsaken tower...

Enough was enough. Elhaym didn't know if she would live or die, and her entire body was still shaking in shock. Yet when she saw the gleam of steel at her feet, she knew her task was not yet finished. She collapsed to a knee and swept her blade into her good hand, propping herself up with it once more. Drunkenly she swayed, stumbling forward with blade in hand and blood running free down her chin and onto the white tunic she had worn beneath her robe. One step after another she blundered forward at an ever increasing pace, until she was almost running. Pieces of glass littered the ground behind her as they fell free from her skin and clothes, but she didn't notice their departure. Her single eye was locked on the hazy forms of two men beyond the wall of humanity that was the retreating Shinya.

The world had gone insane and the earth was somehow pounding them to death like they were trash. Her sight could not focus on the Shinya, would not. She only saw the forms of the two men, blurred occasionally by a massive orb or a flailing body. Her hand was moving and she didn't know why, but she tilted her blade and grasped it backhanded as she careened towards the killing grounds. Instinct took over and she threw her whole body into her arm, steel launching from her fingers like a javelin. Never before had she even considered throwing her sword, much less being able to hit anything if she had. Yet she launched it now like a spear, only hoping that somehow it would help. Her body landed and she hopped twice before spilling onto the floor short of the dead and dying Shinya. She cried out as her burned arm took the brunt of the fall, and began struggling to her feet.

This wasn't over. She wasn't done yet. By all rights she should have been, but she just wasn't. Good men and women were dying, but she yet lived. This tower would fall, whether she lived to see it or not.


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Aftershocks (Open)

Postby Rorugir on March 19th, 2012, 8:07 pm

"Petch!"

It was a rare thing to see the composure of an isur be dropped, but it did so here. Rorugir clearly saw the sheets of ice approaching him on either side, trapping him like a bug. Profane words passed lips like water flowing down a stream as he sought a way for him to avoid being crushed in between the frozen ice. The hand that bore Izurdin's favor was clenched as he thought about using it to smash through the ice; but that idea was discarded once he considered the fact he might not be able to get through, and getting close to a mage's res was never a good idea.

The second idea was fielded once Rorugir's hand dropped to his side, and, in doing so, came into contact with the skyglass chandelier from behind which he crouched. A dark glance was taken backwards as the isur realized the advantages of the corona, and one hand tested the weight of one of the arms of the chandelier. Yes, this might work.

He felt an errant breath of cold wind tickle his ear and Rorugir realized time was running out. Quickly now he braced himself against the the meteoric glass, easing his hands underneath the rather bulky object. Rorugir was lucky in that the corona he had chosen as a hiding place was not a full corona; much of the indestructible skyglass had broken away from its weaker iron bindings upon impact with the ground. What he handled now had to be only a half, maybe even third of the real chandelier.

The corona groaned as he pushed upwards, and did not give way. Rorugir felt, rather than heard, the walls of ice drawn close to him; he redoubled his efforts. But still, the corona wouldn't budge.

"Give in, damn you..." Rorugir muttered, a slick sheen of sweat beading his brow. "By Izurdin, give in!"

There was a shriek of metal and the shrill cry of skyglass being driven across a floor, and the skyglass moved.

Yes! The exclamation was thought rather than said, but it carried the same amount of relief and satisfaction to Rorugir. He began pushing the chandelier across the ground now, distancing himself from the widening sheets of ice, drawing close to the mage who controlled them. The chandelier bounced over the debris across the ground, being driven briefly into this air. It was after it hit the remains of one such bench did Rorugir take his chance.

Carried by its own momentum and now suspended by Rorugir's stiffened arms, the isur pulled the skyglass chandelier above his head.

The weight sent a quivering sensation down and across his biceps, but Rorugir needed but a minute longer. His mind worked in overtime to calculate the distance between him and the mage and the force needed, and then, he threw.

Rorugir didn't even watch to see if his throw made contact. He collapsed the ground, feeling as though his legs were made of jelly. A soft and hurried prayer was given to Izurdin. Even though his body wanted to do nothing more than stay there and lie down, Rorugir forced them - and himself - back up onto his feet.

He was up just in time to hear the scream. "Elhaym, no!" he cried in aching protest, "Don't--" A sudden cough interrupted him, wracking him over. But it wouldn't stop him, not now.

Ever so excruciatingly slowly, Rorugir made his way over to the fallen Shinya. "Not yet," he murmured in her damaged ear, "You are burned, hurt. Conserve your strength for a chime. Then, we'll confront those two together."

OoCI tried to make it seem realistic for Rorugir to shove and pick up that chandelier, but if anything needs to be fixed, please tell me and I'll be on it right away.
This is Rorugir's speech when he speaks in Common...
...And this is Rorugir's speech when he speaks in Isur.
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Aftershocks (Open)

Postby Hermit on March 20th, 2012, 6:40 am

Warriors and heroes lay strewn across the remains of the tower, bloodied and beaten. The insane brokers of elemental furies seemed to be at the pinnacle of victory. However, these managers of powerful Djed were batteries and their charges were beginning to flicker. The cruel explosion of the Djed storm had begun to subside outside this menagerie of death, leaving its practitioners spent quickly as their endless source of power came to a slow grinding halt. The Shinya outside were gaining a sure foothold on the Morphers, as they were easily defeated for the most part. Those that had not attempted to fly away, findign the bottoms of the stark chasms between the Peaks.

Inside the main ground floor chamber, the sounds of flames crackling and ice cracking were only interrupted by the groans and screams of the fallen. It was a complete surprise to the Reimancer of ice when the Isur escaped. His confusion was amplified by the stiffness in his joints and the brittle quality of his bones. The ice was going to claim a victim, one way or the other. Had this cruel Wizard even a modicum of agility, it was spent in the expression of ice. He could only watch in astounded horror as the hardened smith brought the chandelier down on to him. Steam permeated the room as Rorugir made his way to help his severely charred compatriot and friend. She was on her way to make one final attempt at defiance, even in the face of overwhelming odds. This was the stuff that heroes were made of.

Only a handful of Shinya had survived the relentless deluge of stone. Even those who were spared, be it by grace or cover, were less than able bodied. The morale was nearly gone, lost in the face of such unforgiving cruelty and power. The sight, however, of a severely burned Acolyte charging in on her last breaths and throwing her sword did more than a fresh contingent of troops could. Much more. The sword itself turned in the air, striking Mellin in the chest and face flatly, putting the fat boy on his rump. His taller twin turned and moved his fingers in the air for a retributive strike of lightning. Only his fingers turned, Djed at an all time low after such blatant and obscene expenditures.

Elhaym had given the others what they needed. Hope. Perhaps ten Shinya remained who could stand and they all did. It was a mere matter of moments before their rage for vengeance at the mass slaughter of their brothers and sisters to come. It came quickly and without hesitation. Jern and Mellin were now the ones given pause to scream, though their cries were muted quickly by blade and fist. All that remained for the Tower's combatants was to survive and pray for their counterparts outside the shattered halls.
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