Unsteady Ground [IC]

[Icaelus]

Vivienne raised her head and wiped away the lone tear that alone had broke through her control. And she had been trying so hard not to cry..a comforting hand touched her shoulder..Cier. She gave the demon a small smile, then refocused her attention to the Margrave. It did seem like he was taking her seriously, at least..
The Margrave stood up, speaking and gesturing for them to follow him. Cier immediately complied, walking past her quickly and extending a hand down to help her out of her seat.
"Thanks."
Viv smiled, raising a hand to Cier's. His hand closed around her hand and he pulled her up, immediately walking after his father quickly. Viv was half-dragged along, Cier's pace being almost ridiculous for a person of her..height to follow. Xierante kept the lead, striding out of the tavern. Demons scattered from the Margrave's path with nervous expressions on their face. Seemed like the Margrave's rule was absolute here..
"Cier..slow down!"
Viv huffed as she tried to match Cier's pace, half-jogging, half-walking just to barely manage not getting dragged along the floor. She looked up as she hears glass shatter, falling from the sky. A window had broken..for some reason..and wasn't that white dragon over there Talphalos? Nil's voice spoke once again, informing Viv that Talphalos had broke that window..weird.
Tal broke that window? What's wrong..?
Viv wondered in response, knowing that Nil could hear her thoughts. They eventually reached TSC's main keep, a large stone tower. They entered and Xier shouldered his way past the demons on the first floor, leading them up a winding staircase..Viv looked in at the various floors as they ascended, surprised by the various rooms on them. Cier pulled her closer and Viv glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow. Why so protective all of a sudden..?

[TheDaughterOfHades14]

Claire looks over at Garian. "Uh, Garian. Shouldn't you tell it what we're here for?" she asks. She chuckles nervously and slowly backs away a foot or two. "That thing freaks me out..." she whispers to Garian.

[napsii]

Jered -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Approaching the nightstand, you find the small book laid atop it to be inscribed with a number of archaic runes -- a dialect used to manipulate demonic spells that's long fallen out of use. Beyond the book, there is only a small, magic lamp perhaps for some bedside reading. Picking up the book and opening it reveals confusing lines of similar archaic runes whose linguistic structure gives you an intense head ache just looking at. As well, numerous notes have been tacked on to the lip of some pages, highlighting some passages. Study notes by the Margrave. Your keen eyes note the age on the paper and the runes -- it is obviously extremely old, perhaps preserved by magic. While the Margrave will likely notice it is gone, you decide to take it. Your instinct tells you this book is rather important.

Jered got: Strange Book - There is something about the book's contents which make you shiver, even though you can't read it.

As for the drawer beneath, looking inside reveals a lone tin of Solu herb. Similar to the mint found in Autum, the blood red herb Solu grows exclusively in the Underworld, near hot pools of magma. The good smelling leaves are kept around for their positive effect on mind and body, sometimes vaporized as an incense. You take the tin, due to Solu's extreme rarity on Autum. Could come in handy.

Jered got: Solu Leaves - When worn like a brooch, this herb's scent aids in focus and healing of wounds. But when equipped, its aroma may attract demons from far away. Comes in a tin for storage when not in use.

You hear some rumbling beneath your feet. There seems to be a wild procession of demons headed up the stairs. You can't tally much longer here, but there's no way out!

Vivienne -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Cier rubbed the back of his neck, seeming just a touch of embarrassed. His character is rather uncharacteristic for a demon, but then again, the Margrave isn't the most brutish demon you've ever met. Perhaps some of his traits rubbed off on the kid. Either way, he at least released his grip just slightly, only to tighten it again as a few clusters of demons with varying gear and looks chug up the stairs, narrowly skirting around you three as they seem to head for the top of the tower. Xier rubbed his chin, seeming perturbed by the commotion, but he didn't move with much urgency.

"Sorry." apologized Cier, earning him an amused glance from the Margrave. The young demon's wolf ears twitched.

"I think Tal might have been mad or something, but..." Cier hummed, seeming a little confused.

"Well, y'know, she only likes that when she meets a guy she likes. Nil's always having to console her." he shrugged.

Anyway, you soon reach the room Xier had been looking for, which judging from the narrow windows at each landing in the stairs, is just 2 floors below the top. Pushing open the door, Xier ushers you in. You're treated to some rather magnificent surroundings: it's not the doom and gloom you'd anticipate from a demon, but rather a freshly refurbished...music room? Massive, crystalline windows adorn every wall, letting golden sunbeams hit the expensive looking hardwood floor and the fine lacquer of the piano in the corner. As well, there's numerous string instruments and shelves of sheet music hanging around, and some decor of fresh flowers and a painting or two.

"Hey, uh, wait...why here?" blinked Cier as he led you in, his voice echoing slightly.

"Acoustics. It is easier to chant a spell when your surroundings are proper, hence this doubles as a room for sorcery." explained Xier, nodding to a table of magical scrolls in the corner. How clever. He gestures for you to sit in a comfy looking chair.

Cier shrugged, leading you over where he took the seat adjacent. Xier cracked his knuckle, unbuckling his rapier and placing it on the table. While mouthing a few spells under his breath to get him warmed up, he questioned:

"So, Miss Vivienne, tell me of your very earliest memory."

Razajin -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

It doesn't take more than a minute for your faithful (on account of some spells of binding) ninja imps to cartwheel, handstand and smoke bomb their way into the chapel, skidding to a halt behind you. Rather than weapons, they seem to have math tools and parchment with complex trigonometry on them. Due to a lack of manpower it became necessary for some demons to moonlight as warriors of another kind. Chefs, janitors, math wizards, whatever...thankfully, the Angels are facing the problem even worse.

"Sorry, boss. Was busy and stuff." one of the imps shrugged.

As soon as you mouth your incantation, the portal flashes with a rainbow cocktail of light and sensation, the empty purple void swirling and twisting until it finally pacifies to a needle sharp rendering of the blackened Tear Stone Castle toward dusk. As you can see in the live image, numerous little black specks are flowing in and out of its gates. Seems rather lively right now. Conveniently, it seems your imps are headed there as well as they dash into the portal rather quick.

"Oh, right, shit, we had to deliver these calculations to the Margrave! See ya, boss! We'll meet up later!" another imp shrugged as he vanished.

Stepping through the portal yourself has you blinded and feeling a tickly sensation for a moment before you find yourself in the shadowy, cold confines of a...tent? Yes, a rather large red tent, tightly cramped with tables, desks and shelves full of confusing metal gizmos, potions, and what seem to be blueprints for intimidating devices. The tent is illuminated by several small lamps which use a radical new power source.

"Heyyyyy, watch out! Don't trip over anything!" a female voice called. There was some shuffling, and then an oddly dressed girl with goggles revealed herself, her face smudged with a bit of grease:

You catch on quick, it's the workshop of--



--Lesley Gallwin, granddaughter of the famous Nora Gallwin who brought explosives, cannons and other fancy war machines into the hands of Autum's military. While not a demon, Lesley's been working around the clock creating some radically advanced weapons and other fun toys in exchange for payment and protection. Lesley rubbed a hand across her cheek to clear the grease.

"So, where you warping in from? And yeah, sorry, you would be in the reception hall, but I was just tweaking this. I'm planning...well, get this: a Pocket Portal™! When it's done, you can just dial in a destination and BAM! It takes you there. No magic skill needed." gabbed Lesley, who quickly shook her head.

"Sorry, I digress. So yeah, who are you anyway?" queried Lesley as she pulled off the gold mesh overshirt she'd been wearing. Apparently it protects against heat.

Clife -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Thanks to some demonic interference you find that the once scenic woods of Central Autum are now mostly a bank for smoke and ash, the former Cruson Forest being no exception. The trees here are little more than charred, leafless fingers thrust out from the earth. Covered by gray ash, the perfectly flat land separating each tree almost looks like the earth of the underworld itself. The sky is foggy and gray with overcast, and even inhaling stings your throat.

A few burnt leaves blow by in a lonely wind. A beaten trail here, likewise tainted dark gray by the ash, stretches off into the fog. After the bandit fortress was destroyed, you found yourself traveling with the bandit "chief" herself, noisy young Reila and her portly, well-dressed and balding companion Jegen, a trader in charge of the bandits' financial matters. Of course, it would have made sense to kill them, but with so much danger lurking about, it made a little more sense to stick with them as they seem to think you but a traveler anyway.

"Dis sucks 'n stuff! I done lost me big 'ol chalice, lost me wood for-trish and then me dam fav-oh-rit skirt! Lawd damn me to hell, yeah!" pouted the thickly accented Reila, stomping a sandal into the floor. More ash kicked up. She snorted, her cute little face and green eyes tinted red with annoyance. Jegen sighed, scratching his wiry blonde mustache, and took a sip of liquor from a flask.

"Reila, it's not that bad, truly. The chalice may yet be recovered, or at the least, another one acquired, and our finances and men can be salvaged." he explained calmly.

Reila snorted, tugging at her brown leather tunic. The pleated brown leather skirt she wore was a little singed by flame. She swung a wooden sword round and round, whacking the floor occasionally.

As far as you know, you're headed east along this lesser known road which will soon merge into a long abandoned trail noted back in its day for the large numbers of travelers robbed and kidnapped by the bandit groups here, despite its location just a few leagues south of one of the biggest trade roads that led into Marche.

[MiscChaos]

Clife rolls her eyes at Relia's display and just barely restrains a small laugh. At least she'll have no want for entertainment while she travels, even if she finds herself annoyed. These two would be dead if there was any usable plant life around here. Unfortunately, all she's got is burnt forest, an offense she intends to avenge on responsible parties as soon as she can, so she's stuck with them what with being outnumbered and Jegen out-muscling her.

"I'd keep my guard up if I was ya'll. I've been through here before, and it's not usually kind to travelers. I get lucky sometimes, but I usually have to fight my way through here." she says instead of what she's been thinking.

[Zender_Solarheart]

When Jered opens the book and tries to figure out what it might be talking about, he finds the task akin to jumping into a volcano while butt-naked, and expecting to not get burned. That is to say, expecting success would require full-blown madness. Though whatever the demonic jargon says, he can tell it's something of great importance, so he takes it anyway. The Solu herb is a nice bonus, as well.

Unfortunately, the demons shuffling upstairs are bound to stumble upon Jered's antics any second now, and even someone with his kind of skill is no one-man army. Seeing how there's nowhere to run to, that leaves only one option: hiding. Looking around for an ideal hiding spot, Jered immediately recalls the large treasure chest, the one that he could fit in without any real trouble. (Well, here goes nothing...)

If it isn't locked, he takes advantage of the Margrave's lapse in security, and hides inside it. Otherwise, he'll try to squeeze underneath the bed (or anywhere he could hide that can reasonably work), and pray to the Goddess in heaven that he isn't discovered...though in a place like this, he's unsure of whether his prayers could even make it to Her, much less be answered...

[Reaver]

Razajin rolls his eyes at the imps and waves them off before he brushes his clothes of any dirt and bows before giving her a grin. "I'm Razajin Krilleth and I just got back from a battle in which the demons won. You must be the famous Lesley Gallwin. I'm ever happy to be near you, your inventions have revolutionized warfare and that Pocket Portal sounds simply genius." He relaxes a little, enjoying the company of another human that isn't some angel-supporting jackass. "So do you need any help around here or possibly a weapon I could use? Or we could just talk more about your newest idea becuase it sounds interesting and I got plenty of time. I don't have to report to the Margrave for a while. Besides you seem like a nice enough gal."

[Icaelus]

Viv tilted her head in confusion.
"Um..Tal, meeting a guy she likes..? There were male dragons, too?"
Vivienne said, utterly confused right now. This was just getting weird... Xier soon found the room that he had been searching for, pretty near the top of the tower itself. Viv was more than a little winded, bent double and panting. Physical activity was DEFINITELY not one of her strong points. Moonburst did make her something of a runt, anyway. Extremely ill-suited to be in a stair-climbing marathon..
The Margrave gestured to her to sit in a rather comfortable looking chair and she obliged, sinking into the chair's comfort with a sigh of relief. His next request was to listen to her memory, the earliest one that she could remember..
"My earliest memory?"
Viv repeated, hesitating just a second, then closing her stormy eyes to try sink back into her vague memories..

"But I don't wanna go with them! I wanna stay with Mommy and Daddy!"
A five year old Vivienne Wishgate struggled valiantly in the arms of the witch that was holding her in her arms, kicking futilely at the air. The Wishgate couple just smiled sadly back at her daughter as they turned and walked further on, never looking back once at their daughter they were abandoning...
The witch turned Viv to face her. She had an oddly beautiful face..
"Now, now, my dear..it's all okay. We're just going to take that magic from you..and then you'll be returned to Daddy and Mommy!"
Her voice was sweet, her words reassuring the child..it was all going to be okay..Viv would be good and not destroy the house anymore..just let her go back to Daddy and Mommy..

The present Vivienne Wishgate snapped out of her dreams, tears running down her face. She remembered Mom and Dad. How they had just..left her to that witch.
"I-I..remembered my parents..They sold me to a witch who wanted my magic.."
Viv bowed her head, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Parents like that weren't worth crying over..

[napsii]

Jered -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

The sturdy, metal-bound chest seems like it could take a hit from a ballista as you approach it. The simple padlock on the front you can see is reinforced with magic, but the hinge flips open without complaint, revealing an...unusually deep black void. The interior of the chest contained no items, but rather corner to corner darkness that felt as if you reached your hand into it, you would not see it back on your body. Nevertheless, the situation is urgent -- you can hear the tumble of armored boots up the stairs -- and so you dive in shoulder first, the lid slamming shut beneath you. It's cold for only an instant, feeling as if a chilly wind is blowing on you. You can't feel your limbs brush against the tight walls of the chest, giving you a sense of vertigo until a sensation pricks you in the back.

There is, at that confusing moment, also an intense pain in your head, followed by a spray of dizziness that quells in a moment.

An indeterminate time later, you feel yourself lying on what feels like hard stacks of metallic material, though still trapped in darkness. A sliver of light is visible above your head, though, but-

Warrior! You yet live... a familiar voice resounds in your head. It's the angel from before!

Xierante has corrupted the wards that once shielded this castle. Communicating through the mind is difficult. he explained with a sniff.

There's a pause, before he decides to add:

I see you found Xierante's Void Chest. He stores his most precious artifacts there, but one will only see a black pit if they do not possess the keyword. It appears to have taken to you to the basement. You're in a... the angel's voice trails off and he seems to tense.

You're in the explosives storage room. Get out of that crate. Slowly. he commands.

Vivienne -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Cier shrugged, seeming a touch confused as well. But, not wanting to probe the subject, he remained silent.

Across the way, Xierante shuffled through neat, pyramid stacks of scrolls before settling on a small paper of runic writings. A spell, of some sort? He returned with an interested look on his face, as well as a cut crystal glass of rum in hand. Well, perhaps it helped him focus...

Taking a seat across from you, he continued to mouth a few spells under his breath as you went on. His hand illuminates with a maroon energy, similar in color to his eyes. Even though the trace of magic is faint at best, you can detect immensely focused power radiating from him. It seems that, though the Margrave looks to be in his thirties or early forties by mortal reckoning, he is an incredibly talented magician.

"Now, please, focus on that memory and don't let go of it. This will take a moment." he commanded, taking a sip of his rum before placing it on the table. Stepping over, with his hand aflame with that energy, he raised two fingers toward your forehead.

"Tilt your head back." he said, and just as you did so, you feel an icy dagger of sensation curl into your mind as he touches you. At that instant, like a drain pipe that was unplugged, a torrent of memories washes out back into the front of your mind, all in painfully lucid detail -- sight, sound, touch, smell. Thankfully, to avoid you going insane, the Margrave has the insight to stem the river of images until it trickles off.

It's some time later -- seconds, minutes, hours, who knows? Years of thought just came back to you, after all -- that you open your eyes to dizziness and swimming vision. The returned memories beat on your mind, which thieves your body's energy to keep itself afloat. Going limp, you tumble over, only for Cier to catch you and seat you in your chair. He says something, but it's lost to your blunted hearing. Your senses wouldn't return until a good five minutes later, when you open your eyes back to Xierante tapping a finger against his shot glass, awaiting your reaction, and Cier with an arm around you in the chair next with an odd look of concern in his red eyes.

"Did it work?

"Did it work?"

The two demons sound off at the same time. Xier pours himself another drink, seeming confident with his work. Other than a splash of confusion and a blast of adrenaline, you feel intact.

Razajin -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Leslie grinned, rubbing the back of her neck in apparent embarrassment. She did beam with pride, though, her eyes flitting to a sealed oil painting of flame-haired Nora Gallwin herself -- in her younger days -- that hung on a nearby post. She nodded her head in excitement, and then looked back to you, whistling.

"Ah, well, nice to meet you Raz. I'll just call you that. As for weapons..." Leslie bit her lip, bending over a cramped table laden with gizmos until she retrieved a crumpled parchment list of stuff. She hummed, and then shrugged, tossing the paper away.

"'Course there's stuff I need! There always is. But most of the stuff here you kinda have to die to get. I'll just use imps, don't worry." she smiled brightly again, adjusting the goggles on her head.

"Buuuuuut, all you see here are prototypes. Not ready for combat, but maybe you can check back later and I'll see what I can do." she shrugged as she turned, brushing against an intimidating looking contraption that laid unfinished on a table: it appeared to be a wicked looking silver blade that could fold up, but with the functions of a rifle built into it.

"Anyway, if you're looking for the Margrave, I've heard he's busy. Maybe you should wait for him in the Nobles' Hall, in the main complex. It's just across this little field my tent is in. Just look for the two SVN soldiers guarding the door. Well, anyway, I gotta get back to work." she said as she pulled her goggles back over her head, returning to hunch over a massive metal contraption that looks sort of like a futuristic cannon. With tools in hand, she returned to tinkering.

The mention of SVN -- SeVerNis, shorthand demonic for "The Vicious Arrow" -- is notable. The SVN were soldiers -- the creme de la creme -- selected by Xierante himself to serve as special units in battle. Assassination, guard duty, recon...while they were things that most normal troops could carry out, the SVN were noted for their radically advanced technology, which took the place of magic and armor. Precision firearms of all kinds, explosives, new types of camouflage... they were deadly. And noted for their distinct garb: black from top to bottom, with a red beret.

Clife -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Reila snorted at your comment, slamming her wood sword against the tree. The scarred, ashen bark crumbled under the hit, revealing the rotten, burnt wood beneath.

"Do you even think I'd be carin' 'n such if a 'am Angel came out 'n started throwin' his 'dum 'ol magic at me? I'd slam 'im right in da face, dat I must cer-tahn-lee would! Ain't 'obody takes staff from da great REILA REDSPIKE!" she declares, swinging her sword up into the air ahead.

There's a loud squawk and a puff of white feathers in the air, giving Reila and Jegen pause. Looking upon her sword, you can see a smattering of blood, and below it, on the earth, a crumpled white bird with a note tied to its leg.

"Oh, well, what are da odds, yeah?" Reila blinked, seeming a little amused. Jegen sighed, putting on his circular glasses to get a better look at the bird. It seemed to...smoke, with a blue magic...? It reeked of the arcane.

"It's a beast of the divine," Jegen pointed out, "The angels' forces use these to carry messages where long range magic isn't an option."

The two looked between each other, then to you.

"Uhh, ya, dat's cool 'n all...maybe ya shud pick it up, Miss Cliff or woteva ya name be. I don't wonna get me 'ands dirty."

Jegen grumbled, turning away to take a sip as if to pretend he was busy. Guess it was up to you...?

Sortaix -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Of all the places in the world to be in Autum right now, the capital city of Marche is either the best, or the worst. By royal request (once the threat of the war between the Angels and Demons became imminent), Zerakeshia -- the land's foremost authority on magic -- restored the great and powerful barriers that had in ancient times, protected the city and its surrounding farmland from the wars that once ravaged the land, ensuring no entry in or out. Despite their best efforts, no servant of the Divine or the Dark has managed to penetrate this barrier, and Marche remains unharmed, though in a tough spot. Food is beginning to run short as dozens of factions lay siege to the surrounding area, with the denizens seeming trapped inside, though -- reasoning that the military could not hold back an onslaught should the wards fall -- the King has remained steadfast on his decision to seal the city in.

Sadly (or perhaps, fortunately, depending on how you look at it) you were one of the many trapped in the city when the wards went back up. Support for the divine here is strong, save for the many seedy cults that populate the city's undercroft, but people are tense, and scuffles in the street are common.

You are not in the magnificent streets of the city, though. Rather, you're beneath the earth, inside the enormous labyrinth of tunnels cut from white stone that feed fresh water to the entire city. It's an ingenious system, and one that took many years, clever engineering and resources to finish, but the end result was a virtually unlimited supply of fresh water into the city from an enormous reservoir discovered deep beneath the city about 120 years ago. While its architecture is similar to that of a sewer -- large tunnels housing rivers of water, connected by intersections and with personnel guided by walkways on either side of the water -- it is many times bigger and rather sanitary on account of the amount of water that needs to be moved. And, thankfully, totally separate from the sewer system below it.

It might be nice to come here on vacation -- after all, it's rather well lit by a magical white light that simulates daytime and gives maximum visibility -- but you're here on a mission. To some confusion, it would seem that a local necromancer cult, specializing in the trade of souls and raising the undead to fight in battle, has concocted some unknown plan involving the city's water. You learned this info second hand, admittedly: a local altar boy for a church, an ex-member of the cult, had mentioned it to his priest, who quickly passed it onto you with the hope you could investigate. From the evidence you've collected, it seems likely there's something going on...

Currently, you stand at an intersection in the water tunnels -- which are organized like a gigantic square grid -- toward the north end of the city. The path to the north is sealed with a grate, but the eastward, westward and southward ones remain open, water flowing off in each direction. To the west leads a small maintenance area with no water. To the east, the reservoir. To the south, you can find a ladder to take you back to the surface.

[Reaver]

Razajin grins at his new appointed nickname. "Raz will work just fine Leslie. But I guess I'll guess I'll have to report to the Margrave now but I thank you for sharing a couple of your ideas with me." He starts to leave but stops at the door and turns around and winks. "I hope I see you again Leslie, you seem like a fun gal." He starts walking towards the path, whistling a old demon marching song before he reaches th SVN guards. He has always admired the strength and the technology available to them. Reconizing the SVN as the elite of the elite it's been one of his dreams to join their ranks but he's had yet to gain enough recognition, however with his report to the Margrave he's hoping to change all of that. Razajin stops at the gates and snaps a salute before stating him business to them. "I bring news from the frontlines for the Margrave also on a sucessful experiment but for his ears only." He drops the salute and stands straight not trying to move much knowing there's probably a sharpshooter somewhere with it's sights trained on his head.

[MiscChaos]

Clife resists an urge to facepalm at Reila's entirely false bravado speech and actually facepalms when she accidentally cuts down a divine beast. "How in the hell do you manage to do shit like this on accident!?" she mutters around a sigh. She doesn't fear the blue magic actually doing damage to her because she trusts that the Angels would have some sort of fail safe in place just in case a good person touches it... but that trust doesn't extend very far, so she's very quick about picking the beast up and taking the note from it while muttering, "Stupid paranoid cowards." and shaking her head.

[Zender_Solarheart]

As Jered gazes into the dark void that is the Margrave's treasure chest, he can't help but wonder what that's all about. Given the numerous armored demons and/or cultists closing in on him, however, jumping in was probably the smartest move...and he feels more like he's freefalling soon afterwards. Seriously, how deep is this thing?!

Well, that thought doesn't last too long, as Jered suddenly feels his head cry out in pain, and a sense of dizziness. It's as if he had hopped straight into a chimney while the fire was out, and the fireplace happened to have some hefty logs piled up in it. He also hears a familiar voice in his mind...

Oh, hey...long time, no see...err, hear. You didn't miss that much... Jered replies to his telepathic comrade, who proceeds to explain the chest...as well as the very dangerous room it dumped him in. Explosives? Aw nuts, that really does complicate things. Stepping out of the crate slowly is definitely the best move, as his ally noted, so Jered does just that. However, he also makes sure to keep one hand near his sword's hilt, just in case he needs to cut his way through an enemy or two. No magic in here though, that's for sure; the last thing he'd want to do in a room full of big boomers, is start throwing sparks around...

[Sortaix]

Sort is alittle bit nervous at crawling around the water ways but, continues on anyway. He drew his bow and notched an arrow as he proceeded to the reservoir ready to shoot anyone or anything that jumped out at him. He did his best to remain stealthy hoping his time hunting in the forests would give him an edge over his enemies, at least until they realized he was here.

[Icaelus]

Focusing on the memory, reliving it's pain was agonizing. She tilted her head back as the Margrave requested, shutting her gray eyes as he approached. His fingers touched her forehead and Viv staggered instantly. Years of memories were rewriting themselves in her mind. Most of them..showing the tortuous years that she spent in the witch covenant, undergoing rituals every single day and generally treated as less than a slave.. Maybe..maybe it would've been better. Better to have just forgotten this all..

Her gray eyes opened, filmed over by tears. Dizziness overtook her and she swooned, Cier just barely catching her in time and helping her into her chair. He said something, she knew..but she couldn't hear it..her eyes closed again.
Clink. Clink.
Vivienne opened her eyes to the sound of Xierante tapping rather impatiently on his shot glass, giving her an expectant look. A warm arm was wrapped around her..Cier. Concern was obvious in his eyes. Viv smiled softly, nodding to the demon. Both father and son asked their question as one. Did it work?
"It worked. Though amnesia was preferable."
Viv shook her head slowly. She was grateful to the Margrave and Cier for helping her restore her memories..but these memories were useless to her. She had wanted to find out if she still had a family to go back to..but her parents had just abandoned her to the worst of fates. She had been miraculously lucky to survive the witchs' rituals and experiments on her person..
The girl lowered her right arm and turned it upside. Etched upon her thin forearm was a literal tattoo of scars..she could only remember how she had got them so clearly, with her restored memory. Another "ritual" to draw Moonburst out of her. It had failed miserably...and had supplied her with a new weapon. The ability to store Moonburst beams in the tattoo itself..

[napsii]

Jered -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Don't hesitate. Every second you are here, you're in danger. These explosives are...unstable. Leslie Gallwin designed them. I believe she flocked to the demons when we rejected her aid. grumbled the bird angel. Gallwin is a name you recognize well: the famous Nora Gallwin -- recognized as one of the greatest engineers in recent history -- brought the almost magical technology of gunpowder, cannons, firearms and even metal machines of war to Autum, revolutionizing battle. They had just become to climb to popularity when the forces of the Divine and the Underworld returned to the land, corrupting research and manufacturing efforts. As such, they are usually only found in the hands of well-equipped units, sometimes even augmented with magic for devastating effect.

Leslie herself has produced a number of horrific weapons as well, but few have seen widespread use yet. In essence: don't make a single wrong move around her creations.

It was a great shame. Her intellect would be better put to use in peace than war. mused the bird angel.

You slide the crate's lid off, quickly and yet cautiously stepping out. The first thing that impacts you is the scent. A mild aroma of chemicals and other radical substances that blend together like the world's most dangerous coffee. The room you see before you is rather large: rectangular in shape, and undecorated. The floor is paved flat with gray stone, as are the walls and the ceiling, from which hang cutting edge tube shaped lights to illuminate the many neatly organized aisles of crates, pallets and containers of varying size and dimensions. Each is secured tight, labels on each identifying their contents should they not lie out in the open. Most seem to contain cannon shot, bullets, explosives, and packets of gunpowder. The crate you stepped out of was loaded with rectangular bricks of a gray, putty-like substance wrapped in wax paper, labeled "NLX".

You find yourself in the northwest corner of the room, numerous aisles separating you from the door at the far south end of the room where a single metal door can be seen.

Your instinct sends a lightning bolt of alertness through you. Instinctively, you duck down, and just in time: a lone demonic sentry -- a rather lithe humanoid, save for red skin and eyes -- passes by the adjacent aisle, his head scanning over where you had just stood. Oddly, he carries no weapon and no armor. Only a brass bell on his hip and a sleek metal can full of an unknown substance. Looking past him through the crates, you see three more sentries, each scanning up and down the aisle, some with checkboards in hand. They must be the keepers of these items.

It is probable they are unarmed to avoid any accidents. But be careful. They may summon guards. From what I can see, you are in the basement under the castle's central complex. If you reach that door, I can guide you to the surface. said the angel.

You hear a sigh.

Also, I should chastise you on your clumsy incursion, but it did acquire you the Journal of Urun. I do not know what Xierante is using it for, but I would like to examine it. I have known he was up to something. commented the angel. the Journal of Urun must be the book you acquired...but the name Urun doesn't ring any bells. Perhaps you can ask the angel later.

There is also something else I would ask of you -- the reason I needed you to come here -- but it can wait. Now, get a move on. at last ordered the angel.

The explosives storage room is laden with dangerous compounds. Ill-planned attacks will spell your death.

Vivienne -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

You could swear Cier hushed a sigh of relief as you gave your reply. His grip loosened slightly, but he kept rather close. In this, Xier shot him a sidelong look. By the flickering glances they exchanged over the next few seconds, you guess they were conversing telepathically. Whatever it was, it drew an amused smirk from Xier, who turned to you with shot glass in hand.

"That is most relieving. I am curious of the experiences that color your past, but I will not intrude." spoke the Margrave, rising from his chair. Stepping over to his liquor cabinet, he stowed away the glass and the rum bottle before beginning to shuffle through his scrolls again. Cier, as well, stood, offering a hand to you in case you wanted to stand.

"Yeah, it's good it worked. I couldn't imagine not knowing my own past." shrugged Cier, scratching his arm. His look flit back to Xier, who had just procured a small scroll in particular. Stepping over to you, the Margrave held it out. While it was rolled up, it seemed small enough that it contained only the incantation for a rather small spell.

"Please, take this. It is a spell of Shadow Mending that I modified to target the mind. My spell may have worked, but there could be hidden effects. Cast this upon yourself whenever you feel sluggish. It should clear any imperfections in your focus, and perhaps aid memory." explained.

Vivienne got: Spell of Dark Mind Mending - This spell uses the same principles of a healing spell on the memory and focus of a sentient mind, clearing distractions and restoring focus. Being built on shadow magic, it is naturally more effective on those with darker souls. Use it to eliminate any thoughts or magical attacks that may be clouding your mind.

At that instant, the door would swing open and a rag tag assortment of about 4 humanoid demons, all clothed in some kind of armor and wielding weapons, would stumble in, boots clanking and armor shuffling loudly on the echo-inducing room.

The first demon, a horned, red skinned humanoid wearing iron armor and wielding a mace and painted wooden shield, coughed.

"Ah, greetings milord. We have just finished investigating your bedroom." nodded the demon, seeming a little nervous.

A second demon, a lithe demon wearing leather armor, a funny looking green hat with a red feather in it and wielding a long bow, stepped forward to finish:

"The window had been shattered by an unusual impact. Dirty footprints were found on the carpet, but no intruder was to be found!" he explained, his chin up.

The third demon, a rather chubby demon wearing patchwork iron and chainmail armor with a too small helmet and wielding a halberd, piped up.

"Uhh, uhh...yeah, and da, uhh...Journal of Urun was gone and stuff. Da guy musta taken it, yeah."

This drew an intense frown from Xierante, and the fourth demon -- a gangly, short man wearing a robe and wielded a gnarled staff -- squeaked and hopped back behind the obese one.

"I see. Place all the guards on the castle interior on alert and inform Gralmich the book is missing. He will know what to do." commanded the Margrave severely. The quartet nodded, and stumbled out the door with due urgency. Xierante rubbed his chin.

"Someone took the book? Oh, uhh...should I go after it?" Cier pointed a thumb toward the door. Xier hummed, then turned to you two.

"That is dependent. Does she want to? She is your guest, Cierante." he spoke, drawing a look of disbelief from the wolf boy. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking to you for your answer.

Razajin -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Leslie gave you a wink through her goggles as you stepped out of the tent. It looked like she was even blushing a bit.

Stepping out, you find yourself in the inner castle town of Tear Stone: a small collection of important buildings and tents in a field of grass ringing the keep and the central complex, protected by the thick inner walls. Many places of interest can be found here. A luxurious inn, a members' only brothel, the shop of a renowned alchemist, a weapons store and numerous other houses and facilities. The central complex at the foot of Tear Stone's central keep, carved from stone, houses all of the noble functions, including the large Nobles' Hall where the esteemed of the Underworld meet to chat and relax while being tended to by servants.

You step through the winding stone walkways until you find yourself facing large, magnificent metal-reinforced wood double doors to one grand building near the keep. Stained glass windows dot the walls, and through them you can see a good degree of movement.

Naturally, two SVN soldiers stand on either side of the locked doors. The Margrave's special forces are unmistakable. The perfectly humanoid duo before you are garbed head to toe in semi-ceremonial jet black fabric uniform, reinforced with armor padding beneath. Their black leather boots are neatly polished, and their hands covered with custom-made red gloves suspected to enhance dexterity. On their chests, a proud emblem of gleaming black metal, set with gems, depicts a Firehawk, wings spread, with a broken Holy Cross in its talons. On their heads, black balaclava that totally obscure their face, save for a narrow slit for the eyes. Distinct red berets with a metal SVN emblem sit on their heads. In their hands, advanced rifles made of metal and dark wood, with bayonets on the end.

Standing with perfect composure, the two look to you as you speak. Out of the corner of your eye, you spy a glint: as you suspect, a similarly dressed SVN sharpshooter stands in a tower on the wall, rifle in hand.

"We were told of your service. The Margrave is preoccupied, but you may wait inside for his return." the leftmost of the SVN guards spoke in a serious tone.

"However, inside are his esteemed guests. If you make any aggressive moves toward them, you will be shot immediately." warned the second, indicating to his weapon. The rifles look strong enough to pierce most armor or magic shields.

With that warning in mind, the guards unlock the door by pressing their hands to the lock, which clicks open. They pull it back, gesturing for you to step in. Once you do, it shuts behind you, locking again. The scene inside the Nobles' Hall is far more boisterous than anywhere else in the castle. It is magnificently adorned, with fancy red carpet adorning the marble floors and expensive tapestries on the walls, in between the impressive artistry on the stained glass windows. Toward the center, large, low mahogany tables sit in a rectangular shape, laden with plates of food, drink, drugs and other vices while rows of demonic nobles -- men and women of varying skin color and demonic features noted for their extremely lavish clothing, equipment and good looks -- sit chatting happily in the comfy looking chairs behind them. Against the walls are circular lounging tables where some nobles retreat for a more private chat, attended to by the well dressed human and elf girls that dance about. To the far end of the long, rectangular-shaped hall, a large, empty throne with similarly impressive chairs on each side adjacent sits against the wall in front of one particularly lavish table. That must be where the Margrave and his guests of honor dine.

In one corner, a well dressed imp sat on a raised platform, playing a soft tune on a magnificent piano that serenades the room. You cannot see them, but you suspect more SVN are nearby.

Almost immediately, an elvish girl in the purple dress distinct to that of a servant stepped up to you with a silver plate laden with drinks in hand.

"Welcome, please take a seat and one of our attendants will be with you in a moment." she said politely, giving you a moment to select a drink. There are four crystal glasses of green colored drink, an orange colored drink, a blue colored drink and a brown colored drink. Each seems to be distinctly different...

As you make your selection, you spy a rather overweight but jolly looking demonic noble -- human skinned, but with razor sharp teeth and dressed garishly in purple -- in a private booth in the corner waving to you vigorously, a grin on his face. It seems he is inviting you over. As soon as you take your pick of drink, the servant departs.

Clife -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Both Reila and Jegen give a simultaneous 'hmph' of distaste as you comment harshly on their choice not to handle a bloody and broken bird. You crouch down, taking the twitching beast in hand, and rapidly untie the small note from its ankle. Almost immediately as you do, the bird grows rather hot, and you can see that it's beginning to smoke severely! You drop it from reflex, looking down to see the bird burst into a gentle blue flame which burns away its form into ash almost immediately, the bird falling still as it soon disintegrates into nothing but a pile of smoking ash without even a last caw.

Jegen took another sip, while Reila blinked and scratched her head.

"Wow, dat's a creepy bird, yeah. I'd loik 'otally keep 'at as a pet if it cud go 'n blow up 'n peoples' faces, yeah." she commented, looking to Jegen. "Ay Jegen, ya 'hink we 'cud be makin' explodey birds' n such? Tie little 'ombs or woteva to 'em?" she queried with childish interest.

Jegen shrugged, seeming more interested in the note. He turned back to you, stepping over.

"Let me see." he said, taking the note and untying it. Reila skipped over too, leaning over to see what it read.

Contrary to what you expect, the message, hastily scrawled down, is written in common Elvish rather than the holy language of the Angels. It reads:

Angel Lirithia -

Our situation is grave. We were ambushed by demons while traveling the beaten road southwest of Marche. Their numbers were weak, and we succeeded, but only I remain, and the wagon cannot continue. If you would send help, find me at a large Silverbark tree, midway down the road.

Goddess' blessings!

Jegen hummed, re-reading the note aloud to Reila upon her prodding, as she could not understand Elvish.

"Wot!? Dat wagon must 'ave lotsa 'gud stuff an' the like if da demons been ransackin' it! We gots ta git there!" she bounced up and down.

"It is no more than twenty minutes from where we stand, to the south. As unwise as I think it, we have men in the area. Perhaps the contents could be of value, but more demons shall surely close in soon to finish the job." he rubbed his chin.

"Then let's go 'n such, yeah!" was all the reply Reila gave, before zooming off through the trees down south, kicking up ash as she went. With a sigh, Jegen followed after with slow, but heavy steps. The trader was rather fast for his stature. He motioned for you to follow.

"I apologize. She is rather impulsive. If you would like to leave us, then now is the time. I claim that I lost you." he explained tersely as he followed after Reila, who was out of earshot.

Sortaix -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

As you can imagine, the only thing that accompanies your walk to the reservoir is the sound of rushing water. The water here is pure and fresh. Were a water mage around, this would be their haven. No interruptions can be found, for the most part. Very few are allowed to work in the water tunnels for fear of polluting it, so they are rather barren as you proceed down. Thankfully, were an ambush to occur, the walkways and the ceiling bordering the rivers of water would be wide and high enough you could deliver a few well-placed arrows should you need to.

A good five minutes of walking would bring you to another junction, this one with an X-shaped network of bridges (to connect the walkways) over the rushing pool at its center. Stepping closer, you see...a woman?

Yes! It's a woman, dressed in frayed white clothing, with auburn hair (and a generally nice figure) leaning over the railing of the small bridges with a checklist in hand, as if to take notes.

But, the tunnels are so well illuminated with white light, that it doesn't take more than a second for her to spot you. Tilting her head up, she shot you a look from her icy blue eyes before turning heel and dashing off down the metal bridge, sprinting off east further towards the reservoir as soon as she hit the walkway. She's too far ahead for you to precisely chase down and an arrow shot from here would be impractical, but where else could she run? From her clothing and looks, you guess she's one of the necromancers...

Sortaix HP - 350/350

Odd Girl HP - ???/???

[MiscChaos]

'So much for trusting that the angels would have a failsafe to keep it from burning good guys.' Clife thinks with an eyeroll as the bird bursts into nothing. She'd invest in that bomb bird idea though... Clife gives a brief thought as to why the note would be in Elvish instead of Angelic, but she just figures that the Angel Lirithia needed to show the note to someone in order to get reinforcements. The energy of Relia gives her a headache though and she rubs her temples as she listens, not even getting to voice her opinion on the matter of ransacking an angelic wagon thanks to the ball of energy the girl is.

"I'd much rather hang with ya'll. I'd rather not wander around here alone with thieves abound and someone needs to calm the angels down after they find her stealing their stuff." She says in response to Jegen.

[Zender_Solarheart]

(So if I absolutely need to drop one, make it quick and quiet, eh? Well, I'll do my best...) Jered replies to his telepathic angel comrade, while carefully making his way through the maze of explosive containers. While some may not advise it, he also sticks close to the larger crates, ready to duck back into hiding if another sentry gets within spotting range of him. He can't afford any loud and/or ostentatious fights here; unarmed as they may be, the sentries would certainly call unwanted attention to him, and all it takes in this place is one little spark, and boom.

While his eyes are trained on the sentries, and his senses focused on when it's safe to move, Jered does have a little brainpower going to how he could take out a sentry discretely, should the need actually arise. The neck-snap trick isn't a good idea, as the bones cracking would easily be heard, and these guys don't need to be scholars to realize what it means. One method he could use is to cup a hand on their mouth and use a knock-out blow, then set them down to look as if they're asleep on the job. Not foolproof, sure, but it's better than going all gung-ho and becoming a "test subject" for every grain of gunpowder in here...

[Reaver]

Razajin nods in acceptance of the non-agression rule before walking inside and taking in the sights of the upperclass. His scrutiny of the higher society demon nobles is interrupted by a cute looking elf girl. He gives her a grin and brazenly looks over her body before taking a glass of the blue colored. He takes a quick sip and enjoys the tangyness. "Is this how the upper class always live? No worries and fun 24/7." Razajin muses silently before a rather large demon gets his attention. He puts his charming smile on before walking over to the demon while wondering if his name is starting to preceed him.

[Sortaix]

Sort was rather surprised when he found a woman waiting in the water area. She was a fairly attractive woman, so it wasn't an unpleasant surprise. It wouldn't have been bad except that, she was a necromancer, she was making a checklist, watching something, in the citys' main water supply. That is generally not a good combination. He lowered his bow, holding an arrow in his hand to stab with if the need should arise as he chased after her, hoping she might trip up or something.

[Icaelus]

Viv sighed at the Margrave's sentence.
"It was an interesting insight on how I had lived these past few years. Magic, torture and me screaming were quite the common occurrence."
The girl seemed many years older suddenly, speaking of her tortuous past with a rather resigned tone. She glanced to Cier as he mentioned not being able to imagine his past. Well, too late for her. Ignorance was bliss..was that what they said?
Xierante stepped over to her, a small scroll rolled up in his hand. He held it out in an obvious gesture that he was giving it to her. Vivienne received the scroll with both hands as the Margrave explained what it was; a mending spell specifically created to heal the mind. Apparently to stave off any possible side effects of Memory Restoration 101.
"Thank you, Margrave."
She smiled, bowing her head gratefully. She tucked the scroll carefully in one of the pockets of her black dress and then the door burst open to show an odd party of demons. They were here to give a report, it seemed..? Viv leaned forward, an interested look on her face as the demons began speaking in turn. Apparently it was something to do with the commotion with the window earlier..it seemed that the window shattered was the one of the Margrave's own bedroom. An intruder, invading the castle through one of the highest windows of Tear Stone Castle.
Vivienne raised an eyebrow at that thought. Well, there were more absurd things that could happen. That Journal of Urun..that sounded important, though..

The Margrave gave his orders and the party of demons moved to obey. As the demons stepped out of the room, Cier inquired if he should get going, go after the book. Xier spun, turning to Viv and Cier.
"That is dependent. Does she want to? She is your guest, Cierante."
Xierante spoke. Cier and Viv looked at each other at the same time, awkward disbelief etched on Cier's face while a strange smile lingered on Vivienne's face.
"Well, I am still your guest, Cier..but, sure. Sounds fun."
Viv nodded agreement, giving Cier a grin and then turning her head away to mask the cold expression on her face.

Doing this little..errand would possibly gain her more favor with the Margrave. She had been neutral before the recovery of her memories..but definitely not anymore. The past her was a simple, innocent girl who thought demons were bad while humans and angels would be always good. Years of torture showed her different. She had remembered praying to God, the angels. Anyone who would've come to end her wretched fate. She had waited..and waited..and waited.
Vivienne smiled coldly. Angels and Demons. Not much difference between the two. Both could never be trusted.

[napsii]

Jered -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Being distracted by their duties, and likely not expecting any intruders, the demons in the storage room seemed oblivious to your sleuthing. You navigate through the aisles, ducking from crate to pallet to container and beyond as you made an excruciatingly slow move for the door. You noted that as some of the wood pallets making up the labyrinth of crates are only half laden, there's a few irregular spaces where you could make a quick duck into the next aisle if needed. The sentries' eyes were mostly directed downward, toward their checklists. An oblique look noted the lists to be mostly technical data -- quick equations and engineering jargon that even from a cursory glance, reeked of Leslie Gallwin's handiwork. You wonder how much of these bombs and bullets are of her creation; while a few boxes of ammo seem rather conventional, some of the items here -- like that crate of NLX, something you've never heard of -- are likely foreign to most of Autum's military engineers.

If you think it tempting to dispose of these creations, do not. It is not feasible at the moment. chimed in the angel as if to head off the thought of eradicating all of this. You guess that although destroying this would deal a severe blow to the demons' weapons research and maybe even damage the structure of Tear Stone Castle, it would be too risky. Were you walking, you could reach that exit far down the room in a matter of seconds, but the sentries are, inconveniently for you, seeming to take their precious time strolling up and down in irregular patterns, forcing you to duck numerous times to avoid their lazy, glazed over look. You guess from the odd yawns audible to your keen hearing it hasn't been the most exciting day. Some minutes later, you find yourself pressed against a large, green crate labeled "INCENDIARY SHELLS" along with a sequence of runes probably for logistics purposes.

You hear a series of echoing creaks followed by footsteps as the door down the hall opens and shuts. Someone just walked in. There's a sniff on the opposite side of the crate, and the footsteps cease. Seems like the newcomer was chatting with one of the crewmen here:

"Hey, did you just hear? That white dragon girl smashed out the Margrave's window...apparently the Journal of Urun is missing from what I heard Nirg tell Gralmich." spoke the first crewman.

"Haha, seriously? I bet he's pissed about that. I think the worst part will be Gralmich though. You know how much he's styling for another promotion or whatever. Fucker would probably light this room on fire if it meant killing the guy who took it."

The two shared a quick laugh. The name Gralmich clicked distantly in your head. You saw his name mentioned here and there, but never met him. Apparently he was a high-ranking soldier in charge of SVN ops. He is somewhat noted for his distaste for magic, preferring radically advanced firearms. As such, he is allegedly the second best gunslinger in Autum.

"Yeah, but he kind of owes Gallwin for his gauntlet and his guns and shit. He wouldn't piss her off. Though didn't he hit that Commander guy in the neck with a stray bullet once? Like, you know, that guy who just got back from razing that village to west a while ago." the first spoke. That must be the demon you fought.

"Yeah, he's a dick. But yeah, I'm kinda curious what that dragon girl had to do with it. I know she was created by the angels and all and we can't exactly kill her, but still." shrugged the second.

"Yeah, Gral mentioned he was going to do something about her and Nilgalos before he ran off. Anyway, I've gotta go. See you around." finished the first, before turning heel and walking out the door. There was another slam, and the second sentry returned to his duties. Your keen ears didn't pick up on the sound of the door locking. It must be open now!

You're about halfway to the door. It's a straight shot there, if you just wanted to make a break for it.

Vivienne -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

The two exchanged an almost nervous glance, Cier in particular having picked up on your shift in demeanor. Like you had turned into a twisted, dark warrior of infamy, the wolf demon gave a nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck, seeming divided on whether to take a step back. Though, in the end, whatever he was feeling got the better of him and he spoke:

"Alright, cool, so uh..." the demon's ears twitched and he looked to the thoughtful Xierante. The Margrave hummed, leaning his head back to tune the telepathic words probably being spoken to him. There's a mild bout of dizziness at that moment, and words begin to flow into your head as you're linked into the conversation.

Have the sentries do the legwork, Gralmich. I would rather have us where we are most important. you hear the Margrave speak. There's a growl of disappointment, and a new, rather youthful and arrogant voice shot back.

Tear Stone is too big. There can't be more than one of them, so I can't see why-- the voice cut off midway.

Who is this? the speaker, Gralmich, queried.

Vivienne Wishgate. She will be with us from now on. Now, meet us in the Central Chamber in the main complex. replied the Margrave. Cier seemed a little tense for a moment and shuffled closer to you.

Fine. I'll be there. grumbled Gralmich in reply, and the link severed.

The duo looked to you, and then Xierante gestured toward the door for you to follow. Cier reached out to take your hand, but then thought better of it with your shift in behavior and relented. Instead, he indicated with a thumb for you to stick with him as he followed the Margrave out the door. As soon as it was pushed open, a flood of demons -- some humanoid, some more monster -- washed by, heading down the stairs toward the lower levels with weapons and magic in hand. It seemed that the Journal of Urun was so critical, that the Margrave would rather have it back as soon as possible...

Taking a left, Xier proceeded down the stairs with you two in tow. As usual, passing demons cleared the way for the fearsome Margrave giving you a good path as you winded down and down the stairs until you hit the bottom floor. Out of the keep and into the inner courtyard he would lead you, until two rifle-wielding SVN soldiers -- dressed in neat uniforms, a faceless black mask and their signature red beret -- would take up positions on either side of him.

"So, uh, from what I know, there's just one guy, and apparently it was Tal who got him in. He's got the book, and that's really all we know. The book's got a spell on it to stop it leaving the castle grounds, though, so we think he's still here." explained Cier as you walked through the inner castle town, apparently heading toward another large complex of buildings at the foot of the main keep you had just been in.

"There was an accident, so the path to the main complex from the main keep got destroyed. Gotta take the long way..." Cier explained as you walked through the grassy castle town. Demons were running every which way. On top of towers, crews of trained imps loaded and prepared ballistas and artillery guns for firing, and archers and crossbowmen strung their weapons. The thief definitely wouldn't leave alive.

There's a glint in the sky, and overhead, you see the tiny black and white silhouettes of Nilgalos and Talphalos dancing around each other in the air, zapping differently colored flames at each other. Trying to contat them via magic yields a mental barrier. It seems like they're having a rather heated discussion.

Razajin -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

You gulped down the small drink. It had a distinct, sugary taste to it -- like something one would find on the sunny coastal resorts famous to Western Autum. A lightning bolt of alertness ran through you as you stepped over to the awaiting, obese demon. You feel far more energetic now! You tire a little slower for now.

The awaiting demon looked to be rather old, but not exceedingly so. He was clearly the glutton type, though his lavish clothes and coat were neat and well kept, studded with gems and precious metals. With a hand on his diamond-encrusted cane, he patted the cushioned half-moon seat of his private booth to invite you to sit down. On the round marble table before him, a plate enchanted to keep items placed on it icy cool had an expensive crystal bottle of whiskey on it, along with two shot glasses.

"Welcome, welcome! Please, take a seat." grinned the large demon boisterously, indicating to the spot on the cushioned half-moon seat opposite where he sat. Twirling his neatly preened mustache, he snapped a finger and within a few seconds, the elf girl from before had returned.

"Ah, perhaps an appetizer, dear. And make it quick if you could." requested the demon. The servant nodded and headed off far down the room, down into a pair of swinging doors that probably lead to the kitchen. Coughing, the demon turned to you.

"Now, I suppose I should introduce myself! I am Norith Fellgrass, a Jarl -- that is our equivalent of an Earl, in human tongue -- of Autum. And you would be Razajin, correct? My nephew Gairth spoke of you not long ago." said Norith with a polite inclination of the head. He gestured to the whiskey, as if inviting you to pour yourself a drink.

"I would reckon that, being the warrior you are, you are looking for the Margrave, yes? Most of your breed are, as of late. Rather detrimental to his guests' enjoyment, I may add. War is nasty business, hoho. Anyhow, you're welcome to relax me if you'd like...though perhaps you can tell me on what business you come to Tear Stone Castle on?" he laughed.

Clife -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Jegen nodded his head in understanding as he ran, seeming rather unfit for the job of competing with Reila's youthful energy.

"Ah, a wise choice. Though, if I know Angels, they tend to abandon their devotees when it is politically or logistically convenient. I would not expect more than a few scouts from Darkslayer Lirithia, if she ever does catch on." he panted. winding through ashen trees and smoldering grass for the next few minutes. The name Lirithia in particular doesn't ring too many bells, but it has a place in your mind. As you may know from a few books and rumors, the Darkslayers were a suborder of Angelic Knights devoted almost entirely to the destruction of notorious demons. A far more narrow mission compared to the general Angelic virtues of peace, tolerance, justice and healing, but one that they were exceedingly good at. Only the creme da la creme were selected to be Darkslayers from what mortal scholars could assume. And of the new recruits, Lirithia was supposed to be their rising star. An upcoming ace of aces.

Reila, though, apparently caught wind of the conversation and shouted back as she came to a clearing:

"Ain't no 'dum Leer-ee-thee-uh or wotevah gunna stop me frum gettin' me stuff! Dey would nawt even tink of hurtin' me, no siree!" she pointed out in her thick accent. It should be a childish thing to assume, but she had a point. Angels -- Darkslayers in particular -- only deem to strike down, or even punish, those who are truly evil.

Jegen sighed.

After about ten more minutes, you find yourself in a far more healthy looking grass clearing to the south of that wretched forest. The land here is still fertile: wavy hills and plains with clusters of trees and tiny forests that serve as markers for the ancient stone trade roads. Skipping forward, Reila hopped atop a small boulder and squinted her eyes, scanning across the land. From where you stand, you can see the road about 200 yards away, semi-camouflaged by the clusters of trees that run along side it at a few points. Beyond that, to the south, a large plain stretching off into the distance.

"Ya be seein' anythin'? Da note said dey'd be near a Silverwood tree, yeah." commented Reila. The Silverwood was an ancient species of tree originally cultivated by the elves with magic. It's since taken root all across Autum's more temperate climates, named for its brilliant, glimmering silver bark and extreme resilience to being burnt, cut down or weathered by the elements. Some Silverwood have lived for millennia, supposedly, but they are extraordinarily rare.

You saw a silver glimmer coming through a patch of trees, on that note. But whether it's a Silverwood or not is undefined.

Sortaix -

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

You dashed forward, rocketing after the woman, who has a rather solid lead on you. Breaking left, you stepped across the X-shaped metal bridge that connects the junction's walkways and pursue after her. However, just as you step onto the white stone of the walkway, there's a bright, painful flash and you find yourself crumpling to the floor. While not injured, your ears rung and you felt as if you had been whammed with a bunch of hammers for a solid minute.

A few moments later, though, your vision and your senses come back to you and you wobble back to your feet. Looking down, you see the burnt remains of a tiny scroll that'd been rigged to a magic tripwire. It must have been enchanted to fire off the spell attached to it when the wire was broken -- an odd mix of the classic mechanical trap and magic spells. Looking up, you saw the figure of the woman fade from sight as she dipped down below the ground. The tunnels ahead angled downward at a 45 degree angle, with the walkways morphing into flights of stairs to accommodate. That must have meant the reservoir was just beyond it.

The trap let her get away for now, but at least now you would run into traps here.

As well, you spy a square shape on the ground ahead. Her clipboard! It seemed likely she'd dropped it. It didn't seem likely it was trapped or an illusion, so it was there to pick up.

Sortaix HP - 350/350 (A little dizzy)