Bulletin Board (Henry, Jean, Nui)

Nui didn't know what to make of what Henry said about military academies and whatever a VW was (some sort of carriage perhaps?), but what Jean said about her "firearms" sounded a bit more interesting. "Firearms... you mean they shoot fire? I can't say I've heard of such a weapon before; typically if someone on Orenya wants to shoot fire, they just use a spell. I don't like to rely on magic as much though, though sometimes it is inevitable."

"And did you say those were forgotten bits of technology? That is fascinating. Incidentally, I have been hoping to recover technological artifacts from similar ruins on Orenya; there is a dumping ground in the middle of a harsh desert which contains mysterious relics called 'computers'."

Before asking more, Alice offered to give a demonstration of her antimagic field, and then took off. "Hold that thought," Nui said to Henry and Jean before following the woman into what they didn't even realize was trouble.

Hotel (Valerie, Justin, Miron, Aubrey, Pearl, Finn, Wolfe, Saen, Nyceme, Sindar, Cynthia, Moobly, Alice, Nui)

The lich snake listened as Valerie nervously explained being able to separate Justin and his demon, and then blamed the whole thing on herself. The girl had some spunk, binding a demon to her service. But it was a dangerous decision, and Justin's snapping and taunting at the young witch made that even more evident. The demon was rebelling against whatever control Valerie and Justin normally had over it, and in his freedom already thirsted for blood, or "play" as he called it.

As the demon left the hotel, Nyceme watched him and growled. "How dare he— wait here." Quickly nodding to Valerie, she slithered out the hotel as fast as she could, pushing open the doors and glared down at the ensuing pre-fight.

"Jussstin!" Her shout bore not rage, but a sharp, almost acidic tone as she brandished her scepter at him. "You mussst be one hell of a butler, if you turn away from your missstresss like that. If by sssome misssfortune Miron losssesss, I'm nexxxt."

Because it was a shout, Sindar heard it loud and clear. And he darted out the door almost as quickly as Justin did earlier. Once out, he flew in front of Nyceme and waved his arms at her. "Whoa whoa whoa! Are you crazy? You can't fight a demon! And what will that prove anyway?"

Nyceme narrowed her eyes. "He isss like Mornain. An arrogant madman deluded by evil and chaosss to the detriment of hisss liege. Oh and look, they've drawn a crowd. That woman hasss the right idea, taking their fight elsssewhere."

Sindar looked over to the woman Nyceme was gesturing at, and his eyes grew wide. Around that woman was a hole in the very fabric of magic. It struck fear into the very core of Sindar, as fairies like him die if their magic is ever negated. "A-a-antimagic!" he quickly shouted, after which he darted back into the hotel, deciding to watch over Valerie for now.

Nyceme, on the other hand, had no such reaction, even when she heard Sindar's mention of antimagic and looked back at the woman. What did he mean by antimagic anyway? Someone opposed to magic users? Or a force that negates magic? Or both? Nyceme ought to have been concerned about the latter, for her body was animated by magic and she couldn't imagine what such a field would do to her scepter, but when she became a lich, her sense of fear died right along with her body.

On the other side of the parking lot, Nui had caught up to Alice, just in time to hear her toying proposition of moving what was apparently a battle someplace else. Not that Nui really minded; they had seen authorities break up or redirect fights like this, but were not anything remotely near authority themself. Even as an instructor, they just quietly waited for squabbles among students to pass, only interfering when property damage was imminent. As things stood now, it looked like the only potential damage here was to people's peace of mind.

Standing next to her was a mistake, albeit not a big one. As they did so, they felt discomfort in their forehead, wincing and bringing their left hand up to it. At the same time, they noticed a tube in the mechanical gauntlet on their right arm flicker. At the latter, they backed a safe distance away, reminding themself that this was precisely why they were eager to find a way to suppress magic and use it minimally.

Looking around the "battlefield", Nui got a read on the rest of the occupants. A magic knight of a sort and her pet dragon^note Dragons are quite common on Orenya, even small ones like Moobly and a trio of more mundane-seeming people^note Wolfe is in the hotel I think, so Nui wouldn't be able to see him were the only normal-looking ones here. The rest worried him. In ascending order of worry: first, one of the combatants, the red-robed man who looked to have something weird going on with his life force or something^note this is his faintly registering as undead, not that it registers as such to Nui. Second, the other combatant, who had a very negative aura about him, a quite powerful one that the person seemed to have a hard time controlling. And finally, one of the snakewomen, who actually made Nui's eyes fly open in surprise once they caught her aura. (The other snakewoman seemed innocuous.)

Nui looked back at Alice and pointed at the more sickly-looking of the snakewomen. "See that person there? That's a lich. Not just a powerful mage; a powerful undead mage. They are bad news where I am from, but fortunately, they depend on magic for their survival. And that one seems to have somehow fused themself with a witch snake." Nui was already firing up the gadget on their right arm, holding it at the ready and gazing intently at the snakewoman's scepter, waiting to see what kind of trouble she would cause. She had already issued an additional challenge to the evil-infested man, and the anger in her aura was clear.

edited 8th Apr '18 10:06:25 PM by ladytanuki

Come, my child of the devil. Your mother is calling you. Hear my call in Hell's grand hall, where all our dreams come true.

Chitara's Wagon
Plague Doctor, Teri, Sophia

She methodically went through the wares, most were items of no practical value or significance, not an unexpected outcome, one must sift through dirt to find diamonds after all. A few vials of reagents caught her eye, mostly unspoiled. She picked them to the side for easier later collection. A few other small but practical objects also made their way to her possession.

The shopkeep was speaking to two other women, a gnarled speech came from one, distorted and oafish but an important word came through the quagmire, "necropolis."

She snapped her head back, the raven followed suite, more in search of more interesting shiny things than a reaction to the words.

"Necropolis?" she asked. As absurd as she found asking a trinket cart for traveling supplies, they could yet be useful with some...guidance.

edited 6th Apr '18 12:15:20 AM by Slysheen

Stoned hippie without the stoned. Or the hippie. My AO3 Page, grab a chair and relax.

Town: Restaurant - outside seating area

[Leone, Diantha, Nora, Kris, Gwion, James]

James' scalp crawled as Leone's hair seemed to take on an eerie life of its own, fusing into writhing tentacles. Leone's subsequent gestures and words showed that the strange phenomenon was under her control and hinted that she had other abilities. He couldn't help but be reminded of the tales of Medusa.

He had no rational explanation as to how Leone could do that - there undoubtedly was one, but he didn't know what it was - but it at least demonstrated that she had some form of body weapon that she could bring into play. He supposed that it was rather handy to have a weapon that was always with you and not detectable as such - especially in one so young. It certainly explained her need to grow her hair so long.

He smiled. "I wasn't expecting a demonstration," in the same way that he wouldn't expect someone to answer his question by immediately pulling out a knife and dropping it on the table - a verbal answer would have sufficed, "but 'ti— it's good to know that you have some means of defending yourself."

He looked over at the brewing fight. It was, indeed, 'a real mess'. "Sadly, I've no idea what things are usually like around here. I suspect it's likely to be even worse outside the town, if some of the warnings on the notice board are to be believed."

Gwion turned his attention back to the group at the table in enough time to catch Leone's demonstration and notice that Nora seemed to be avoiding looking at the scene with the manacled prisoner, his black-armoured captor and the orange-clad SWAT unit.

He wondered if Leone had some sort of nanobots fused with her hair. Her clothing didn't exactly scream twenty-first century, but it didn't rule it out, either. It was certainly an interesting ability and he wondered about the nature of the other abilities that were best demonstrated when they weren't about to eat.

He turned to Nora, wondering if it was the woman, prisoner or police that had her worried. "Whaddya make'v that lot?" He jerked his head in the general direction of the maybe-slaver, maybe-bounty-hunter.

Somewhere along the smaller river (Mustangs, Inquisitor's Stray Horse)

The tired horses had wandered only a short distance upstream. The mustangs needed to recuperate from three harrowing escapes in a row^note first the Sabertooth Undead (zombies), then the Sabertooth Lightning (teleport), then the Sabertooth Log (homunculus), and the Tame One had covered a lot of ground fast before coincidentally meeting them.

Lead Mare Flashfoot stopped the herd at a bend in the river and made her way to the center of the herd. Guardian Thunder met her there. The mustangs were getting itchy from the dried mud that hadn't been washed off in the sea, and it was time to help each other scratch the dirt off. To do that, the horses paired off with their favorite buddies, except for Fiddler and her usual grooming partner, and stood nose-to-tail so they could rake each other's coats with their teeth and use their tails to swish the flies of each others' faces. Fiddler abandoned her usual grooming partner, Mouse, to go groom the newcomer and examine his saddle. Meanwhile, Mouse hovered around Speckles and Ripple until they worked out a way to groom each other in trio. The mustangs missed Our Watcher, at times like these she would be weaving in and out among them, reaching with her nimble fingers to scratch where no horse could scratch.

Fiddler knew what a saddle and saddlebags were. Our Watcher rarely used them, but she made sure all mustangs in the herd knew what they were. Fiddler staved off her curiosity long enough to finish grooming The Tame One and let him finish grooming her, then started sniffing the saddlebags to find out what was in them.

---

Edit: Retconning Thunder's title to "Guardian" because "van" means "front", not "back" like I had assumed.

edited 13th Apr '18 2:19:13 PM by Miss_Desperado

If not for this anchor I'd be dancing between the stars. At least I can try to write better vampire stories than Twilight.

Wrong thread, NVM

edited 6th Apr '18 10:46:27 PM by Millership

Spiral out, keep going.

[Necropolis - Unnamed Individual]

The sound of dry, brittle bones being snapped could be heard coming from one of the mausoleums near the center of the Necropolis. It was an ancient structure, cracked and worn, where the vines slinked like tendrils upon the stone. The opening had been violently moved out of the way, thrown aside and shattered, the reason for such could be found within.

The individual who was desecrating the mausoleum could be found throwing open the lids as they searched, driven by hunger.

The individual, who was short and lithe of build, wore clothing that covered up their entire body head to toe, consisting of a blackened leather breastplate and shoulder protectors, studded with blunt metal rivets, and black cloth wrappings around the rest of their body. The only part of their body that was not covered by the cloth was their face, where a white half-mask that had a grim painting of a set of jaws with sharpened teeth in black paint, and a pair of black lens goggles was situated.

Across their chest, there was a leather strap where a set of seven knives was sheathed, and they wore a belt on their waist, lined with various pouches and bottles. One of the pouches had an engraving of a bottle with bubbles coming out, another had a depiction of a hand holding a coin, and another was simply labeled 'food.' There were seven bottles, three filled with red liquids, three with green liquid, and another that seemed to contain smoke.

Finally, sheathed at their left side, was a scimitar with a pure black handle.

As they continued their search, their stomach growled in pain, and they angrily smashed the coffins in search of anything, even a mouse. It would be a while before an opportunity for food would come along.

Note to self: Pick less edgy username next time.

Somewhere along the smaller river (Mustangs, Inquisitor's Stray Horse)

Now that the mutual grooming was over, Fiddler could investigate the saddlebags. She smelled apples and other yummy tidbits inside. She tried to open the bags with her mouth...

...and suddenly got stung^note electrocuted on the lips. She squealed in pain and panic and jerked away from the saddlebags, startling the Tame One and making him panic too. They scrambled away from each other, snorting in surprise. The rest of the herd took one look at what was happening and started panicking, wondering if wasps were preparing an attack on them all. Lead Mare Flashfoot pointed with her entire body to indicate an escape route — fording the river — and the horses all kersplooshed across in a frenzied hurry. On the other side, Flashfoot turned the herd parallel to upstream, swiveling her ears back and forth between the route up ahead and the herd organizing themselves behind her.

In the next few seconds, the horses realized no wasps were after them, so they slowed back down to a walk. Flashfoot still wanted to explore upstream, so explore they would.

If not for this anchor I'd be dancing between the stars. At least I can try to write better vampire stories than Twilight.

Hotel -> Outside

Sloppy. I should have set an arena., Míron thought as the demon slid away like liquid, waiting for him to give chase. But it did not matter, for whatever that was a hunt or a duel, Míron was undefeated. Also so he dashed after the shadow through the hotel's open doors, his sword ahead of him, prepared to strike, his legs blazing with speed only seem in those who seek their own death or think it is impossible.

Yet he came to a stop in the stage his foe set, and waited for the boiling phantasms to coalesce and flail against him, as the civilians around fled to safety or sought their weapons. "How pathetic, to make figures with your fingers and call them slaves.", he said as the bestial mimicries of life launched themselves to their attack.

Míron ducked below the first attack like a coiling spring, and uncoiled like a rattlesnake, piercing the first thoughtform, snuffing it out like a candle's wick between fingertips, then voided the next few shadows' attempts to touch him like a dandelion seed shying away from a child's hands, and severed them with a descending diagonal slash. Each attack pierced both matter and mind, and planted in Justin's mind the sound of an erratic, failing heartbeat, and a singular message. "You are ill. Defeat is the cure."

The next mass of shadows had surrounded the swordsman, yet they were already irrelevant for the next act in their brief play. Instead of facing them, Míron took a wide step and then jumped over the mass with closed eyes, vaulting through the space above them as naturally as a grasshopper and landing more light than a feather a few feet behind his foe, with his sword raised above his head and his body ready to lunge forward for a possibly final strike.

Yet when Míron opened his eyes, something was wrong. His footing was a few degrees off, his grip had slipped by a millimeter of two, and his heartbeat... it was erratic now. And though his body did not show it, his bones were slowly starting to shake. How in the Mother's name?, Míron thought... but the responsible was not the Mother. No, the new buzzing he heard, louder and mechanical, was not life nor death, but their restraining to empty, unchanging spaces.

Míron lowered his blade and turned his back to the creature that wore a woman's face, and replied to her. "If my foe is willing, our battle will be taken outside the walls. Otherwise, I have no choice but to fight."

edited 7th Apr '18 10:25:58 AM by EternaMemoria

"The dried flowers are so beautiful, and it applies to all things living and dead."

Hotel

With a face marked by three unnaturally white diagonal scars and black hair marked by a few stripes of white lining with those scars... Justin(?) looks so passionately amused, as if assured of victory. Yet, he can't help it as his face twists into a disgusted snarl as a fundamentally wrong presence approached.

It didn't help matters when the goddess slave struck down the first of his "daemons". Yet, to those who could see, it was not one soul Miron's message dirtied- Past the outward impression of Justin(?), there were two souls... Neither of which were properly in charge. One was what you would expect from a human, the other...

It could almost be called a twin, if it wasn't for all the unnatural energy composing it. Yet, it wasn't exclusively composed of that malicious energy- The familiar bond has tainted it, allowing that second soul to be more than some demonic beast. Still... With how close the two souls are, it truly seems that familiar bond is the only thing keeping them distinct.

Though, seeing all that, something rather peculiar stands out- Of the two souls, it is the human exerting more power. Each time Miron strikes down another "daemon", the human soul seems to agree with him and yet... The soul doubles down further, shackling down the more demonic one. The... The one which wants to escape?

Hmm, in fact... The persona Justin(?) is presenting, seems more like a pseudo-soul. Incomplete and not true, more a display of magic focusing the human soul's hatred of the demonic one... Into creating the very persona that is relishing in evil & madness. Yet, the human soul seems unaware... Whereas the demonic one is enraged, disgusted by that abominable lie being shown to everyone.

Yet, perhaps rather surprisingly, each time Miron struck down a "daemon" Valerie cried out through the familiar bond: "This is my fault, not theirs! Don't hurt them!" Valerie herself winced each time at that forced intrusion on both of Justin's souls, their familiar bond "vibrating" like a plucked harp string.

Outwardly for Justin(?) though, nothing gave that all away- Though those who saw his souls, would notice that Justin(?)'s displeased expression grew exactly at the same times as his human soul agreed with Miron's message. Still, the moment Miron decided to ignore the last of Justin(?)'s "daemons"...

Clenching his right hand fiercely, the shadowy humanoids abruptly stop & hang in mid-air. Now that they're no longer shooting off so quickly, it becomes much clearer there are six of them left. Still, the fact they look so lifeless and are clearly defying conventional physics would help those who didn't realize before to understand the "creatures" are mere constructs.

Keeping his arm held out, darkness coils behind Justin(?), readying to strike Miron with impossible speed- Yet the demonic butler snarls in disgust without looking back upon realizing his target of salvation fell into the monstrosity's field of wrongness. Still, the fact his new "friend" seems to be alive...

Justin(?)'s face smoothens out into a "polite" expression- Though still with hints of distaste and discomfort regarding the mere presence of the abomination disguised as a woman. Whether than focusing on that aberration first, Justin(?) ends up lazily flicking his gaze to Nyceme.

Raising his right eyebrow, the left edge of which is white, Justin(?) seems mostly amused & boredly confused as he reflected over her earlier reaction. Looking over at his cute little mistress, Justin(?) briefly flashes a toothy smile at seeing her in such discomfort & dismay. "Remember, my mistress, they all want to kill my true self."

Valerie finally dropping to her knees and curling up into a sort of ball, it actually looks like she's trying to hide from the world- The slight rocking back & forth further showing how distressed she feels. To any with the right abilities, perhaps glancing at her soul or just her mind, they could notice her repeating to herself over & over: "I have to let him, I can't let them die..."

Every time she thought that second half, those who could tell would notice the Familiar bond between her & Justin(?) tug briefly- Not too dissimilar to pulling on a dog's leash to get them back on track... Or perhaps like a shy girl who doesn't know how to admit her crush on someone. Justin(?), for his part, showed no outward signs of that having an effect on them. Still...

Justin(?) looks displeased as he recalled being compared to some deluded madman, and flashes a snarl at that "Sindar" thing for causing Nyceme to say that. Finally turning to look behind himself and taking note of the vaguely human/elfin being that reacted poorly to Nyceme...

Justin(?) waves pleasantly at them, his fiery eyes staring intensely- And for a second time the blackness of Justin(?)'s hair briefly yet futilely tries to peel away, a short & very clearly incomplete thought snarling out.    "She is an idiot, not a-"    Once again the blackness snaps back into place, Justin(?)'s little wave unbroken.

Still, as he properly focuses on that vile wrongness pretending to be a human... Precisely half of Justin(?)'s face twists into a disgusted snarl, whilst the other remains a polite look. That didn't last long as he looked annoyed, perhaps by how resistant the other half was to changing.

Letting out an annoyed sigh, flames of darkness bubble over Justin(?)'s left face to hide his fixed expression. Running his fingers over it and assured of its solidity, Justin(?)'s right half smiles pleasantly as he finally speaks- His tone trying to be devilishly charming, yet uncontrollably tainted with hints of disgust.

"I honestly cannot tell if you have a soul, which is very disconcerting for one such as myself. I can make you one if you'd let me, but I digress... You're clearly not a native, so I can assure you no one will care so long as our duel remains undestructive. Oh of course..."

Turning his head to look in Kris' direction, Justin(?) smiles wide in amusement as he sweetly sings a little. "My dear girl, you're so foolish. There's no toy, that can harm me." Once he's done singing though, his smile becomes more sadistic & mocking as he speaks non-musically but hardly normally.

"Next time you want to hide from me, make sure there are no shadows. Still, guns? You humans are all the same, thinking some fancy toy makes you into an unstoppable god. What, did you think I'd cry pathetically 'Oh no, guns, my one weakness'?" At that Justin(?) slams his own fist through his chest with impossible speed-

And... And ripping out his own still beating heart, enveloped or perhaps made out of shadowy fire. Holding it out long enough for Kris to see, Justin(?)'s heart sinks into his hand and travels down the inside of his arm before seamlessly fusing back into place. Perhaps the most noticeable part however, was how not a drop of blood stained the earth below.

So shaking his hand dismissively at Kris, the newly re-hearted young man speaks equally dismissively. "So if you'll like to get in on the fun too, you'll have to wait your turn. Speaking of which..." Turning towards Nyceme and clapping his gloved hands twice, Justin(?) points towards the gender ambiguous entity before cooing amusedly.

"I do love the idea of getting to liberate your soul as well. Of course, what better way to prove your righteousness than by willingly fighting a devil unchained? In the unlikely event you both win and avoid salvation, perhaps you can use the praise to leverage your way to resurrection?"

His smile became casually amused, as he waves dismissively at Valerie. "Regarding my amazing little mistress, I'm pretty sure Wolfe and... What's her name? Maya! I'm pretty sure both of them would approve of me allowing them to do whatever they want to punish her. Surely the "Holy Mother" must know that girl could use something."

Justin(?) raising his right hand to his chin thoughtfully, he speaks in a very casual yet lightly composed way. "I wouldn't suggest that, though... My precious little mistress would surely be a useless slave. Wife husbandry would be much more productive, but most would probably deem her too bratty. Would you believe me if I said this was all one overly convoluted way of finding my adorable little mistress her true love?"

Still, before Nyceme could respond, Justin(?) turned back to Miron and smiled with polite sadism. "I would much prefer an audience. I need everyone to know I speak only the truth when I say I'll free you! We will only battle outside if you can force me there. Now, step free from that blasphemous power, and let our dance start again future brother!"

With that Justin(?) turns into darkness once more, and flies past his remaining "daemons" as if he was being yanked. The moment he touches the ground, a large wall of flaming shadows sprouts up before him- The only way Miron could strike him would be to move behind Justin(?). Though...

Whilst Justin(?) and his wall remain stationary, Justin's remaining "daemons" begin bubbling as their connections to the shadows they emerged from break off. Thus, they drop to all four and change form, Justin(?) sings passionately yet again.

"Her hold will end, because I am here! No longer will you, be enslaved dear brother! I will free you, from her lies! So return, to me and us all! So return, to your true nature! Cast off that lie, reveal your shadow! Be free once again, heed your calling! Ravage her world, like a Dragon from Hell!"

His song complete, so too are his "daemons" transformations into six smallish dragons made out of darkness and fire. Their heads topped with wickedly curving horns, tails covered in brutally looking spikes, and "leathery" wings that look like they alone can collapse walls... Each turns to Miron, and moves much more intelligently & freely- Almost as if they're aware of the magic violating being.

edited 7th Apr '18 1:09:09 PM by Kkutwar

"The Omniverse is the collection of all possibilities, and all possibilities must eventually come to pass."

Somewhere in the River

On spaces old and untouched, the world slumbers deeper and the weight of its dreaming lingers in the air, holding the serenity of the mist for a few precious hours more than the sun would grant. Yet noon would always come and the blessing of fog had to slowly fade, revealing a lone raft of sticks and weeds carrying a small figure cloaked in red upstream through the river, to somewhere beyond the forest. The youth pushed against the riverbed with a long pole, their pale slender fingers dancing uncertainly on the knots of ivory wood as they gave the precarious vessel direction.

But nature conspired to see the wanderer reach in safety their goal, and the travel went undisturbed. Finally they set their eyes on a sand bank, formed by a curve on the river's flow, and raised the pole they had once used to proper the boat, using it to pull on a tree that stretched its canopy over the river, like two skeletal hands holding each other. It was a thin and long tree branch, far longer than the traveler was tall, and on its end a few leaves sprouted.

When the raft finally reached the the sand, the teenager stood up from it and walked in the sand with their bare feet and pushed back the raft, which dissolved into loose twigs as it was carried downstream. Then they laid the branch their carried against the tree, so that it would become part of it, and made their way to the Necropolis, following the subtle glow of the flowering aeon-bloom bushes scattered in the wilds.

Necropolis

The wanderer wished to rest, but the Necropolis compelled them onward, to navigate between walls or basalt and sandstone, and step carefully through dry or overgrown gardens and fallen pillars. The air was cool and dry, the sky was clear and the land was architectured, giving to the area a perhaps paradoxical sense of clarity compared to the untamed wilds or the bristling, chaotic city. Yet a sound echoed far in the mazelike hill, specially if it was a sound that challenged its sanctity.

And thus the red-hooded wanderer followed, eventually finding themself atop a half-buried ossuary, looking down on the broken entry of a mausoleum with disgust. So they climbed down to the ground level, and lifted a large fragment of the stone the once sealed it, and with some effort returned it to where it belonged, making a muffled sound as it touched the ground. Then they lifted another and placed it over the first, the cracks aligning easily and quietly for something so heavy. It would take time to close the passage, but who was more patient than the dead? Eventually the mausoleum would be sealed again.

They didn't seem to care that the trespasser was still inside, and could have noticed a sound or a change in the light.

"The dried flowers are so beautiful, and it applies to all things living and dead."

In front of The Purple Fez Tavern (Jann, Rosalind)

Rosalind's train of thought derailed as she heard singing coming from the battle, she could feel the dark energy pulsing with each note. It was making her quiver with a feverish antici... uh-oh.

With a mumbled, "Pardon me," to Jann, Rosalind clapped one hand over her mouth. She forced herself over to the tavern porch and, with her free hand, she clung to the little banister like a barnacle. What the heck was going on, and why was that singing combatant affecting her so?

---

Somewhere along the smaller river (Mustangs, Inquisitor's Stray Horse)

The herd stopped for a quick graze. Fiddler contemplated attempting to open the saddlebags again. She wasn't stupid, she just wanted to find out if the sting from before was a coincidence or a pattern. Treats were at stake. The Tame One pirouetted away from Fiddler's reach, so she backed off, circled around, and approached him from the other side. This time he stood still. She fiddled with the saddlebags...

...and got stung again. She squealed and jerked back, startling the Tame One who skittered away, and the herd stopped grazing to watch the commotion. This time, they didn't assume it was wasps, so they didn't take off running.

Fiddler chased after the Tame One and tried the saddlebags for the third time. She got stung for the third time, squealed, and concluded, I'm not trying that again.

The herd went back to grazing while Fiddler nursed her sore muzzle.

edited 7th Apr '18 2:57:58 PM by Miss_Desperado

If not for this anchor I'd be dancing between the stars. At least I can try to write better vampire stories than Twilight.

[Necropolis - Unnamed Individual, Wanderer]

TW for animal death for anyone affected by that

The individual continued smashing stone and bone, unrelenting in their search. Their ears perked when the heard the sound of a rat running away, and they immediately began the chase.

The chase would be short as the individual grabbed the large brown rat with their right hand, their left ripping off their half mask to reveal a face of alabaster white skin, with a small, upturned nose and a mouth that smiled to reveal shark like teeth.

The moved like lightning, putting half of the poor rat in the mouth and biting down, effortlessly tearing the animal in half. They threw the uneaten half aside as they chewed, swallowing their meal in one gulp, their hunger temporarily abated.

It was then that they heard the sound of the door to the mausoleum being moved back into place and they dashed toward the exit, screaming as they ran. With their full might, they clenched their fist and rammed it into the stone, shattering it into pieces.

Exhausted and panting, they noticed the wanderer and they raised their arm to point at them.

"Food?" First is was a question, her voice feminine and raspy.

"Food." Then a statement.

"Food or Food?" Then a mix of both.

Her snarling mouth had it clear that they weren't going to wait very long.

Note to self: Pick less edgy username next time.

Necropolis

There is peace in willful submission. In the methodic procession of stone piled over stone to create something greater than the sum of its parts. Until a stumbling block is hit, and all must halt. Until the red wanderer heard a bestial cry from the depths of the mausoleum's maw.

Muscles froze at the blood-curling scream, and then contracted to answer the sound of cracking stone as the red wanderer jumped away and covered their eyes with their arm, only to leave their forehead exposed to a flying rock that opened a cut in it and momentarily stunned them. Their auburn hair, exposed by the now fallen hood, stuck to the wound, and their narrowed grey eyes stared at the attacker, but did not seem to focus.

Still, their feet found purchase in the compacted, dry soil, and their right hand removed a sharp shard of porcelain from beneath the red cloth, which they pressed against the cut, feeling its familiar coldness. With a clearer mind they pointed the shiv at their agressor and stepped back, hissing. The red wanderer was young and smaller than the creature, so they would hardly be able to physically overpower it, but they were prepared to to make it bleed if they needed to.

"Food... no food!", they shouted, motioning to the ruins around with a shaky hand "No food! Dust! Dust!", then they pressed their hand against their still bleeding forehead and said "No food. Poison." and waved their shiv, still wet with their own blood. "No food. Poison. Away or poison.", they threatened and hissed.

The hungry being would most likely feel a burning sensation in their mouth as the red wanderer said "poison" for the third time, as the taste of the rat blood in their mouth changed to something else, but it would be gone swiftly, little more than a passing impression.

"The dried flowers are so beautiful, and it applies to all things living and dead."

Town Square

Chitara raised an eyebrow at the mention of a 'necropolis'. She rubbed her chin, thoughtful, but with a wide smile. "Necropolis, eh? I think I have what you may need." She pickedtwo items from the table: A small bird skull with a burlap string tied between the eye sockets, and a small glass vial with some herbs inside.

"A necropolis tends to attract a lot of unsavory creatures and dark magics. I know that from personal experience. To keep those at bay, this one." She lifted the skull. "It should protect you against any extended harmful effect of dark magic with the exception of most powerful curses. I could also offer you a dream catcher if you plan to stay there for long." She pointed at a small dream catcher sitting on the table: A simple ring the size of a human wrist with a net inside. "It is used to catch nightmares, so leave it next to you while you sleep. It will catch any dark miasma lingering in the air so it doesn't touch you. When it dawns, all that miasma will evaporate when exposed to sunlight."

She then raised the vial. "This one is for any angry ghost. The herb inside was used in the past in a ritual to calm down restless spirits and help them pass on. On its own it should keep harmful spirits at bay, although you can always open it and burn the herbs for a more powerful effect."

Chitara's other customer expressed interest in these two's destination, and honestly so did Chitara. So she decided to get a little more personal. "But before we get on with business, would you mind if you told me some more about this 'necropolis'? Certainly sounds like an interesting place. I'm a little curious." The old harpid asked with a more confidential tone.

Naiolo, which until this point had been practicing with his harp unattentive to Chitara's dealings, stopped playing and looked at his companion, perplexed and with some dread. Chitara was using that tone she used when she was planning on doing something out of the ordinary, and the last one the young minstrel wanted was to visit another creepy cemetery when he could be having some decent food in a restaurant.

He mentally groaned at his luck, and looked somewhere else to keep his mind on something else. That's when he noticed the commotion near the hotel. Apparently, some people were about to duel, but things seemed a little to flashy to Naiolo's comfort. He could even notice the woman that had been shopping with them earlier.

"Hey Grandma!" He walked up to Chitara and called out. The old hag looked at him and where he was pointing, and furrowed her brow.

"Hmm, looks like a fight is brewing." Chitara noted, with some apprehension. In truth, she had also felt a strong and hostile presence around, and it didn't put her at ease.

Naiolo picked on her change of mood. "Should I put everything away?"

"Nah." Chitara dismissed him with a wave of her talons. "Just stay alert. But if anything comes this way, we bolt." Naiolo nodded, and sat down on the wagon's steps, too nervous to play anyhting.

"Where were we?" Chitara turned to her customers, again with a jovial smile. "Ah, yes. The necropolis. Interesting place. May visit it someday when I have the time."

Solstice Cafe (Cormack, Lily, Carol, Peggy, Karl, Cas)

Cormack scratched his head as he listened to Lily talking about her own land and its own dragons. "Uhhh... wyverns are dragons. And I think ravens are a bit different from crows... they sound different for one."

Then she mentioned visitors, prompting the elf boy to turn his head over towards a table right next to theirs. It was the same crowd he had seen with the ravens earlier, including the woman with metallic gadgets attached to her.^note Crownen isn't technologically advanced enough to have cyborgs; closest you might get is a spring-powered artifical leg or a sail-like contraption as a replacement wing. Shortly after, another group approached, consisting of an elf woman^note actually Kaitlyn with a bunch of human teens in tow. One of the latter, a girl with pink eyes^note assuming this is Amy? Isn't quite clear from the opening post., cheerfully walked up to him and began rubbing his ears. As one might have predicted, this did not sit well with Cormack, who, with a shout of "HEY!", swatted her hands away (at the same time that the deaf girl pulled them away) and glared at her, only to soften up a bit when one of the boys apologized for her rude behavior. Funny that...

"Soft? They are not! They're practically made of sandpaper compared with the rest of my family! ...Er, yeah, that's me, the one seeking the musket. Cormack Tinuile, accepting your offer of service. And this is Lily and Carol, my er, comrades." He gestured over to the darker-skinned elf(?) and the special snowflake girl with a tiger lily on her head. "I collect exotic weapons, and when I heard about those warpfields... well, for all I know, there may be more interesting artifacts than just that one! How much experience you folks have with weaponry and adventuring in general?"

He spoke loudly enough so that Peggy, Karl, and Cas could overhear if they were paying attention.

Come, my child of the devil. Your mother is calling you. Hear my call in Hell's grand hall, where all our dreams come true.

Town - Purple Fez Tavern (Jann, Rosalind)

Jann noticed the look Varg gave him and Rosalind before walking off with Ozurr, and responded with a mildly confused expression. What the Depths was that about?

Turning around, his confusion turned to concern as he saw Rosalind leaned up against the banister of the tavern porch, clearly quite shaken by something.

"Gods..." he whispered to himself as he ran up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She was still cold, but it didn't bother him this time. "How are you feeling?"

Jann too very much felt the malevolent force emanating from the fight on the other side of the town square, and it wasn't hard for him to put two and two together. For someone like himself it was only a mild annoyance at this distance, but if Rosalind really was the kind of being that he suspected her to be...

"Listen," he said to her, using a voice he hoped would sound serious but non-threatening, "I might be able to help you, but if we are to travel together I will need a few honest answers from you."

Jann turned his head left and right to make sure no one was listening in. There was a waitress nearby, but she seemed busy discussing something with a group of people in brightly colored jumpsuits.

"With everything I've... seen this far throughout my life," he continued, instinctively glancing down at his arm, "chances are that it won't be as big of a deal as you might think, if you... uh, get what I'm saying."

He scratched the back of his head. "I'll get to the point. Earlier, I couldn't help but notice that - among other things - you don't need to breathe. That might warrant an explanation, don't you think?"

Town Square -> Bulletin Board (Varg, Ozurr)

"No idea," Varg answered Ozurr as he asked her about the name of the town. "I only just got here, same as you."

Her eyes wandered across the crowd, until she noticed some kind of large notice board at the center of the town square. If there was a bounty to be had for the creature she and Jann had killed earlier, that seemed like a good place to look for it first.

"I've spent the last few years traveling the Brightcliff League and beyond aboard the Fat Goose. Yndavia, Duskport, Bhagadïv..."

She paused for a moment, her tail swinging thoughtfully from side to side.

"I guess those names might not mean much to you... Where are you from?"

Still a great "screw depression" song even after seven years.

Town - Purple Fez Tavern (Jann, Rosalind)

Rosalind snapped her attention to Jann's swift approach, for a brief instant she eyed him like a hungry dragon looking for an excuse to make a snack out of an intruding knight. Before he could reach her, those same brown eyes filled with panic and squeezed shut. What was wrong with her? She shouldn't be this hungry this soon! The knuckles of her hands whitened as she tightened her grip on the banister and over her mouth.

The next instant, Rosalind flinched at Jann's hand on her shoulder at first, but then she accepted the comforting touch and leaned into it slightly as her face relaxed. A barely audible longing moan escaped her lips and was muffled by her hand. She opened her eyes, but couldn't bring herself to meet Jann's gaze. Hearing his question, she lifted the hand over her mouth just far enough away to talk and reported in a low voice, "I feel... I feel all sorts of things, euphoric, restless, hungry... that dark energy from the battle is calling me, and above all else, I'm terrified I might... answer."

Evidently, she must have alarmed Jann with that introspection, and she didn't blame him one whit. Her gaze followed his glancing around for eavesdroppers, but she still couldn't meet his eyes. His next words sent her heart pounding with fear at a rate that perfectly matched humanity.

Busted! Busted! Busted! Busted! Busted!

At least Jann had tried to reassure her that her secret probably wouldn't be as big of a deal as she might think before confronting her with the evidence. Rosalind mused pessimistically, "Sounds like if I say it's a medical condition and I don't like talking about it, you won't leave it at that..." She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and confessed, "All right, you caught me fair and square, so you deserve the hard truth. I'm a vampire." She parted the fingers over her mouth to expose one of her extended fangs to demonstrate. To take her mind off of the dark energy pulling at her, she kept talking, "That's why I'm immune to the zombies. That's why I rarely breathe. That's why I stumbled over the underground pipes running water between the buildings. Also, I had my fangs retracted up until that dark energy forcibly extended them, and I can't pull them back in." Here, she blushed, "And, uh, fair warning, under these circumstances you're close enough to where I can't stop ogling your neck." With that said, she clamped her hand back over her mouth, her bravery had reached its limit.

---

Edit: Expanded emotional details I undersold the first time around.

edited 8th Apr '18 6:45:13 PM by Miss_Desperado

If not for this anchor I'd be dancing between the stars. At least I can try to write better vampire stories than Twilight.

Town - Bulletin Board (Ozurr; Varg)

"No," Ozurr said. "I can't say I've heard of any of those places." This wasn't promising. Ozurr couldn't get back to Arnora if he couldn't figure out where he was.

"I'm from Hromstgard, like all Frost Giants. I don't suppose you..." he trailed off. Now that they were in the park, Ozurr could see the wooden beetle-drawn wagon more closely. Specifically, he could see the proprietors. They appeared to be some sort of bird-people, almost like...

"Harpies," he said, in the same tone an ordinary person might say "mosquitoes." But then he did a double-take. These harpy-like creatures seemed to be hawking wares from their wagon, like merchants. But...that was impossible. Even if a harpy could learn to speak, and even if it could have the intelligence to understand the concept of commerce, there was no way a harpy would ever voluntarily part with an object in its possession. It simply wasn't in their nature. It would be like a Fae telling a lie on a bed of iron. No, this didn't make any sense at all. It was against every law of the world he knew.

Something twigged at the back of Ozurr's mind. Jann had mentioned legends of people ending up in other worlds. Ozurr had almost thought about it at the time, but got distracted by finding Rosalind. Had he been trying to lead to something? Was he suggesting that...

"Oh gods," Ozurr said weakly. His knees wobbled, and he sat down, hard, with an audible "THUD!"

Tidesson Son of the staves of time

[Town-Notice Board/Henry]

"Excellent!" Henry told Jean. "We can take my car. Now how do we find this James Turner?"

Right after Henry asked he saw a giant approach while not really paying attention to its surroundings. Then it suddenly started to sit down.

He quickly jumped out of the way as the giant landed with a loud 'thud'.

Catching his breath he looked up at the giant. "Jesus H. Christ! Watch where you're fucking sitting you prick!"

Town - Purple Fez Tavern (Jann, Rosalind)

"Huh," Jann said, recognizing the word Rosalind had used as an archaic term for blood-drinking revenants. "I... suppose that explains it then."

He visibly tensed up at the sight of her fangs and began to take a step backwards, but stopped himself as he felt a twinge of embarrassment. Time to live up to your words, old chap. Instead, he remained in place, and rolled up the sleeve on his left arm.

Two long surgical scars, faded with age but still very noticeable, ran along his lower arm right above where the bones would be. And in the space between his elbow and the rolled up sleeve of his shirt, the lower end of a third scar was visible...

"Warding runes," Jann explained, his voice shaking slightly, "inscribed into every bone that was large enough. Let's just say that when it comes to 'medical conditions' you'd rather keep hidden, I might... know a thing or two."

He pulled down the sleeve, his gaze once again wandering across the tavern porch. It looked like the waitress was still busy though. He reached into one of the pouches on his belt, pulling out one of the many amulets and trinkets he carried with him. This one was in the shape of a small lump of amber tied to a piece of string, very faintly glowing with an inner light, it's surface covered with tiny, swirling symbols.

"If magic is an issue," Jann continued, handing the amulet to Rosalind, "one of these should keep at least some of it at bay."

He glanced over at the large menu board by the tavern's door.

"Would regular food help with the... uh, hunger?" he asked, placing a hand on his neck without really noticing. "Maybe some raw meat? I'm certain they must've gotten stranger requests before..."

Town - Bulletin Board (Ozurr; Varg, Henry, Jean)

"Moreena's pale arse..." Varg swore to herself as she was suddenly knocked off-balance and had to correct herself by flailing her arms and tail around. Soon after, she noticed the angry man in the fancy suit whom Ozurr had almost sat down on, and walked over to him.

"Oh, cut the guy some slack," she said, dismissively waving a hand at the man before turning back to Ozurr.

"You just figured out how far from home you really are, didn't you?" she asked the giant. "Yeah... it took a while for me to get used to it the first time too."

She somewhat awkwardly reached up to give Ozurr a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"I wouldn't worry too much though. Getting home from these places is usually easier than you'd think. You'd have to ask Jann for the details, but we've got it covered on our end. Shouldn't be too hard to help you out too."

Next, Varg stepped over to the notice board. After glancing it over for a while, she saw that there was indeed a bounty to be had for the strange monkey things - or D'voreem, as they were apparently called. Not quite as much as she'd hoped for, but still pretty decent. Together with what the Duchess had already paid them for the expedition, there should be plenty of money for supplies.

She looked back at Ozurr.

"Hm, do you remember how you got here?"

Still a great "screw depression" song even after seven years.

Town - Message Board (Ozurr; Varg; Henry; Jean)

Ozurr barely even registered the man he almost sat on. All he managed to do was mumble a soft "I'm never going to see her again..."

Varg, on the other hand, managed to break through his shock. Ozurr stopped rocking, blinked a few times, and sighed. "'Home' isn't really the issue here. I...don't really have a home anymore. But..." He sighed again. He had been dancing around the issue of who he really was since he had arrived here, but that was becoming more awkward by the second. He looked at Varg. If he was really in another world, the chances of her working for his father were practically zero.

"All right," Ozurr said, pulling himself into a crossed-legged sitting position. "Let me start at the beginning. My name is Ozurr Einarsson, and I am, or was, the Crown Prince of Hromstgard. My father recently discovered something called a 'human' on the outskirts of Hromstgard, brought her back with him, and got her drunk until she started telling us her life's story. That's how he learned about the existence of the human lands, and how the humans control so much more land than the Frost Giants despite being so much smaller than us. So, he locked her in a cage and decided to take those lands for himself. But then I had a talk with that same human, and I realized I couldn't let him do that, so I smuggled her out of Hromstgard so she could warn her people. He didn't take it well.

"I've been on the run ever since. I would be very surprised if he hasn't disowned me by now. A few days ago, I started noticing that my father's Manticore has been following me. The only thing I can figure is that my father wants him to bring me back alive so he can make an example out of me. So I hid in a cave. But that cave led to another cave in the forest, and when I got out of the forest, I found that trench, which led me to the edge of town, and that's where you came in.

"So, I don't really have a home to go back to anymore. But I do need to get back, nonetheless." He pulled a locket out from under his tunic, flipped it open, and stared at the short lock of pure white hair inside. "Arnora, my betrothed, helped me sneak the human out of Hromstgard. If my father knows that, she could be in real danger." He closed the locket and placed it back inside his tunic. "So, yeah. That's my story."

Tidesson Son of the staves of time

Town - Purple Fez Tavern (Jann, Rosalind)

Rosalind couldn't blame Jann for his little flinch at the sight of her fangs. But when he rolled up his sleeve, she had a brief moment of confusion over what he was trying to do — was he offering up the veins she could see behind the scars? — until he spoke. Oh, he was showing her the scars. Well, that would have been an embarrassing faux pas — good thing she still had her hand over her mouth to remind her not to do precisely that. She gasped softly at the story behind the scars and noted, "I'll be wanting to learn more about that later."

She examined the amulet and, after a moment's hesitation, let go of her mouth to take it, while still holding on to the banister. She felt the magic of the amulet scan her before settling as selective earmuffs and a band across her lips. As she put it on, she felt the dark energy leave her mind, and her hunger faded until it was restored back to where it should be — weak enough for her to ignore. She retracted her fangs and exclaimed, "Oh, that's so much better... This amulet is smart! Thank you, this will really help." She let go of the banister and stood more confidently.

Answering Jann's query, Rosalind examined the large menu board and mused, "I don't know, come to think of it, I haven't tried eating regular food since I turned..." Some random passerby exiting the tavern caused her to clam up for a second, "Anyway, I guess now's as good a time as any to find out. Raw meat, that sounds like a good place to start..." She looked back to Jann just in time to catch the sight of his hand on his neck. She'd been keeping track of when he'd reached for the back of his head or his neck, and she found the nervous habit adorable. Smiling shyly, she proffered a hand to Jann and asked, "Shall we enter, good sir?"

The tavern was a public building which implied anyone was welcome, so she had nothing to lose by experimenting with securing passage in what was hopefully a less conspicuous way than outright announcing that as a vampire, she must be invited. If this flopped, she could laugh at her own cheesiness and rest assured on the implicit invitation to the public.

If not for this anchor I'd be dancing between the stars. At least I can try to write better vampire stories than Twilight.

Town Square ~ Notice Board —> Outside the Hotel (Jean; Alice; Nui; Henry)

Jean shook her head, "They don't shoot fire. They use a volatile alchemic reaction to hurl a projectile, in this case, one made of lead, at incredible speeds," she said, "Of course, you could enchant a bullet with various effects, or use it to channel aether to cast spells... not these ones, though."

She crossed her arms, "They're not exactly forgotten, per say. They're a bit of a strange anachronism, just like the shipwreck they came from."

Watching Alice and Nui depart from their group, Jean turned to Henry, "I was planning on meeting up with a Mr. James Turner. Which, I suppose, means we should follow them."

At this point, a frost giant decided to make his presence rather know to those at the bulletin board. "My, my," she said softly, rather fascinated in the giant as she prevented herself from saying anything that would most likely be construed as rude, as well as noticing how her ride to the forest was rather displeased at almost being sat upon, before making an about turn to follow after Nui and Alice. One could only focus on so many interesting things at once, and first come, first serve.

---

Following the elf and the woman, Jean found herself on the sidelines of what was looking to be a duel between an off-brand Balamarian swordsman and a rather bizarre butler-summoner. Very much aware of the anti-magic field that Alice was giving off, the antiquarian gleefully grinned, "Fascinating, absolutely fascinating, you can generate a magic suppressing field without using any arctic calibreum. That's impressive; how do you do it?" she asked, ignoring the faint buzzing in her head as she began intruding on the other woman's personal space.

Still smiling, she noticed the set of dragons under the command of the butler; she grinned even more, "Are those dragons?! Never knew they could be so small, though, but still fascinating to see in person," she said, edging closer towards the fight like an eager child.

---

Town Square ~ Restaurant (Diantha, Nora; Leone; Gwion, James)

Leone's small display of her abilities attracted the attention of both girls. "Oh, you've got abilities similar to Nora here," Diantha told the girl, gesturing to her hoodie wearing friend, who waved... a squid tentacle.

Nora was prominently blushing as she suddenly beamed a smile to the other girl, the tentacle returning to its former shape as her hand, as though her body was made of pliable dough, "I've never met anyone who could transform like me before," she said.

At Gwion's inquiry, she grayed slightly, "I'm not overly fond of uniformed guys with guns and cattle prods," she told him, "Honestly, I hope those other two will be all right, all things considered."

Meanwhile, Diantha continued chatting with Leone, "I'm sure the dangers outside the city are going to be more along the lines of wild animals and such," she told her, "rather than—" she leaned to the side to get a better look of the fight, "—fight happy individuals."

---

Town Square ~ Solstice Cafe (Carol, Lily; Cormack; {Cas; Karl, Peggy})

Carol raised an intrigued eyebrow, her ears noticeably twitching, "Rather bold move, touching an elf's ears like that," she said with a smirk, attempting to tease the pinkette.

Meanwhile, Lily shook her head, "Wyverns and dragons may appear similar, but they're completely different types of creatures. Different body plans for starters; wyverns have four limbs, dragons have at least six—" she paused to think about it, "I'm thinking that, most likely, our dragons are different."

She then turned to greet the others with an extended hand.

Hotel Lobby

To Wolfe, things seemed to be deteriorating rapidly. After the old snake-woman talked nicely to Valerie, the young witchling seemed to make an attempt to do something to calm Justin down but that only resulted in Justin rebelling against her.

Wolfe didn't know what to make of the comment Justin directed at him, it seemed so detached from what was going on that the word 'unhinged' seemed to apply more than 'unchained'.

Then, after some more strange posturing and posing, Justin transformed into darkness and vanished out the door with the red-uniformed soldier, the snake woman and Sindar in hot pursuit.

Through the open door, Wolfe could see Justin reform out of the darkness and then begin behaving even more strangely, throwing out his arms and singing some strange grandiose challenge.

Then the armoured woman with the sword and glowing gauntlet visibly winced and dropped her sword then grabbed her shoulder as if she were in intense pain. Moobly obviously noticed as she jumped down from where she had perched to give aide.

Wolfe catapulted away from the counter and quickly crossed the short gap between where he had been leaning and the stricken woman. "You all right? Is there anything I can do to help?"

He was so intent on ensuring the woman was OK, he barely registered the snake woman's loud challenge, let alone anything else going on outside.

(Hopefully) Solid pillar between Restaurant and Hotel

[Kris]

Kris watched as the red-uniformed man that had been talking to the others earlier exited the hotel armed with a sword. She wondered why he bothered slashing at the shadowy figures - they were clearly only projections and yet he acted as though they were something to avoid.

The older of the two snake women, came out of the hotel and issued her own challenge to the dark-haired maniac, referring to him as Justin, and then the tiny woman was joined by someone else of far less determinable gender who identified the snake woman as some sort of undead mage - the day was getting weirder.

Weirder still was how Justin was acting and talking about people wanting to kill his true self. Then he directed comments towards her and seemed to rip his own heart from his chest to prove that her pistol was of no danger to him. Kris, who routinely killed, gutted and butchered animals, found the display stomach churningly disgusting. The guy was several dozen cans short of a six-pack, that was for certain. Whether it was real or an illusion was anyone's guess.

Then the lunatic started raving about Wolfe and Maya punishing someone and something about his Mistress - it had all the makings of one of those strange nonsensical dreams and made the encounter with a zombie donkey and the possessed school students seem mundane - and desirable by comparison.

Then, after more self-congratulatory posing and ego-wanking, 'Justin' bust out the theatrics again, apparently conjuring fire and changing his projections to resemble dragons.

There was no clear sign that Justin had any means to threaten anyone's life and the red-uniformed bloke was already armed and facing him, so Kris returned her Beretta to its holster and pressed a button on her radio. "Hey, Wolfe, what is this wanker's problem?"

(Hotel Parking Lot)

Saen kept her distance from the combatants rather respectfully. She was powerful, true, but her skills in the Art were not the sort that lent themselves to a brawl. Not that fang, venom, and coil were ineffective, though. When Nyceme announced her intention to be next in the fight, the other lamia chuckled a little bit. "Well, there'sss not much he can do to you, Nyceme, but I am interested in seeing how you fight. I only know one necromancccer myssself, so a lot of thingsss she does might jussst be her."

Forward, boys! For God's sake, forward!