Dubhaine Family/Moira/Roleplays/2020/October

Dubhaine Family
Fame	40
Wealth	19485
Home Region	Ashforth
Home World	East Continent

Clan Dubhaine:

• Aednadh
• Aibhlidhn
• Aoifa
• Brigdha
• Cathal
• Ciarghuala
• Etain
• Moira
• Rhidhana
• Scein
• Threiginion

1st October

Summer Day

Training Match

Emilia Delamoire, Dame of Pel Mark meets her challenger Lady Saoirse MacArbin, Grandmistress of Obia'Syela, Royal of Obia'Syela, Duchess of Amen Obeah for the agreed training match.

Saoirse has decided to use the 'overrun' strategy while Emilia has chosen the 'aggressive' strategy, giving Saoirse the advantage.

After a series of blows, Saoirse wins the training match.

Emilia Delamoire

Emilia Delamoire

"I see you are capable at beating up priests, will your next victory be against a little girl?" Emilia taunted Vahanian.

She twirled her short sword in hand and prepared to give the order to have the square filled with the black shafted arrows of Shadow's Blight. They could run at her all they wanted, but the first wave would assuredly go down with her.

"Or maybe I should find you a dog to kick. Wouldn't want you to lose any pride after such a stunning victory." Lady Emilia continued

"Shadow's Blight! Be sure to record the battle of the great warrior Vahanian, he who beat up a priest in the streets of Keffa!" She declared, to which her troops chuckled nervously.

"Now, on a more serious note.. is your god called Obey because that's all you're capable of doing?" She asked with an inquisitive smirk.

FLASHBACK

"You will sit straight, your shoulders back, eyes forward." Lady Leonora would say to her. To which she would begrudgingly snap her shoulders back and put her chin up high. Her gaze blank upon the wall opposite, as if it all had no meaning.. it never.. had meaning.

"Yes My Lord, Of Course My Lord, You're Right My Lord."

"Don't use that tone, if he senses that tone."

Her father was Lord Coryn Delamoire, the finest of them all, both successful and charming. If they only new.

She still heard the screams. Her mother made every excuse, said the proper words, but her father still punished her.

When Emilia had gotten older, she knew what words would hurt him the most. She used those words like knives to punish him like he had punished her mother. But he was always faster, and when he caught little Emilia, he would strike her like a hammer to an anvil.

She remembered gasping for breath, devoid of air for so long she saw lights, only to be thrust to the surface to wretch and coil in on yourself. Her ribs had been broken more times than she could count and she was relatively sure that there was internal damage beyond her own comprehension.

Her father seemed to have an obsessive nature toward punishing others, even outside of Emilia and her mother Leonora. The villages began to spread rumors of the darker side of their shining Lord Coryn. A cruel man who abused his mistresses and oppressed the peasantry.

When Emilia was 11, one of these tangents from her Lord father set into events out of his control. Lord Coryn Delamoire was murdered by one of his own bastard children

"Yes My Lord, Of Course My Lord, You're Right My Lord"

Emilia thought of those words as she stared down at the corpse of her father being buried. She thought of all the pain she and her mother had suffered at his hands.

It was the best day of her life.

Since that day Lady Emilia had raised her chin, put her shoulders back, but never again would she defer to another, especially if they were men.

But her words were always her sharpest weapon, and she used this weapon often.

Saoirse MacArbin

At the insults that were flung forth, Saoirse paused for a moment, the sheer shock of them causing the blood to pump in her ears and red to cover her eyes, before she lowered her lance, and in a vicious whisper:

"Charge."

The Lancers Radiant made straight for Polli, ready to mow down any in their way, but Saoirse rode directly at Emilia

Emilia Delamoire

As the Grand Mistress gave the order the horses launched forward. The Square erupted into motion, and Lady Emilia saw the wave of an Obian nightmare rushing toward her.

She raised her sword into the air and screamed,

"FIIIREE!!"

Behind Emilia, twenty archers that surrounded Polli and Godfrey open fired directly into the wave, trained hands firing arrow after arrow.

Pull. Release. Pull. Release.

Added to the point blank shots came a rain of arrows from various sniper points that had been ordered as lookouts what seemed like a lifetime ago.

She set her feet firmly, her diminutive frame a blade of grass in a hurricane.

"FOR BLOOD ETERNAL!"

The Square, exploded into chaos, and the blood flowed.

Jacinda

The Cafe

Jacinda leaned into Nerta, taking some of her weight to steady her friend. As the other woman's cloak shifted, Jacinda thought she saw...But there would be time to think about that later.

"Can't be too much worse, there isn't blood in the streets yet, just those poor fools outside the walls-"

They rounded a corner and saw the nobles and their retainers begin the charge, and then the screaming started. Jacinda snorted.

"Spoke too soon. Different direction, Nerta?"

Maurice

Cafe

Before Second Stones Set

Exhaling sharply the woman’s eyes are hard, “Maurice, you must know. Can this not be averted? Can we stop the slaughter, stop the rituals? These people do not deserve it.”

Maurice began, "No, It is coming, it is inevit," and stopped mid-word, pausing as if shaken by something which he had just fully realized for the first time. He edged away from the others, ever so imperceptibly.

Beginning again slowly, "Well, there is one way to stop It," as he spoke he moved away, and towards the door, not a great distance, but just enough to be noticeable, "kill all the Others."

Kristina Chamberlain

Temple

"That is a far bigger question than you would know and much of the answer is pure conjecture... and to be honest I am not sure what relevance it has here and now."

"The short answer would be that Obeah is the Mother of Magic, She would not need to call upon Ora, since Ora is an aspect of Obeah." She paused. "Whether the magic of the veil resembles the Dagda workings is yet another subject for a day when we have the luxury of time. However..." she broke off as a spasm once more went through her body. "They are still doing their blood work..." As if hearing her words, the column flashed blood red before again resuming its rotation.

"You see, this is what I mean... the external magics are having direct impact on the column as it seeks completion... Can you see anything, that might let us understand what it needs?"

Ryosuke Guile

Just as the sun breaches the horizon to the west, a column of dust covered cavalry approach the Daldward Gate at the Holy City of Keffa. Riding at their head, sitting ramrod straight and with his hood covering his easily identifiable hair, a man wearing a silver filigreed mask, a frighteningly-bright breastplate, and a buckler that shines like liquid starlight motions to the soldier to his right to ride up alongside him.

"Jorg," a clear and lilting voice rings out from the depths of the mask, "Find our delegation, and report back to me straightaway. Look for Duchess Alice. She should have the other Dalefolk rallied to her side. Be quick about it, Captain." With a quick nod, the Captain of the Hunters rides ahead to the gates of the city.

When he reaches the the gate, he flashes a jade token at the overly-alert guardsmen and continues slowly walking his horse ahead, scanning for the Entwined Banner, or a familiar face.

Viviane

Dull Worm Coffeehouse

As the party gathered to depart, Viviane offering much praise for the brew to the beantender, the coffeehouse's proprietor burst out upset at Valian's destruction of his business's door, demanding recompense and threatening to report the vandalism to Valian's liege.

Dolores

After thanking Jecht for the scrolls, Dolores proceeded to sing. As she sang, Mulki Laraak approached, asking the innocent question, but before Delores could nod her head no, they were interrupted by the two Templars, who in turn were interrupted by Duncan Blackstone. Yet when Emperor Jecht's troops arrived, he skedaddled before much conversation could be had.

Through it all, the Emperor stood, resolute, guarding over Dolores's dirge.

Luto

Somewhere on Keffa's Streets

"It is what is coming. The Others are who will stop us, and that is why Nothoi might wish them killed." Luto whispered in reply to Yao Ling.

Examining the scavenging bear, at a distance, before continuing, "Good for Nothoi if Nothoi gets It. Not good for Nothoi if they get It."

Polli

The Square (Polli)

Polli picked up her trumpet and began playing vordulist hymns, as Saoirse closed in.

Valian Stone Daubeny

Valian picked up Elizabeth and tossed a coin pouch to the coffeehouse owner.

He waved for Vivian to follow as he held his mace defensively.

Outside the coffeehouse was Valian’s new unit, glistening white armour, bronze shields and long glaives at the ready, they had the symbol of the inquisition embedded into their shields.

Valian stepped into the cool night air, sounds of battle ran out from the temple square and Valian saw Archers high up on the rooftops firing down I to the square.

Valian could already smell the blood running, Valian turned to his men and formed a fist and covered it with his hand.

The 52 men of the Riot Guard formed up around Valian holding shields up high as well as covering all sides with their shields locking together to form a wall of bronze, a space was left open for Viviane, Valian and Elizabeth to stand in the centre.

Valian turned to Viviane and smiled “Let’s get going Lady Emberhallow, the shields will keep us safe whilst we head to the temple.”

Yao Ling Pryde

Somewhere on Keffa's Streets

Yao Ling gave Luto a raised eyebrow.

"That doesn't tell me what It is, or who the Others are." Then she looked around the street and shook her head. "And I don't believe in a zero sum world. Why would It being here hurt US?"

Alice Schwarzherzig

Rulers, Diplomats, Ambassadors, oh my! (During the Charge)

Alice heard commotion and whirled about, and watched the cavalry charge begin.

"Pardon me, Majesty, but I must be going." Alice said to Jecht. She whistled, and alongside the Morgul Guard, mounted their destriers. They rode, skirting the square and veering off down a side road. They fanned out and located Bernard. Circling the bagpiper, Alice dismounted.

"It is time to play, piper." Alice spoke approaching the man. She tossed him an iron coin, the seal of Carn Dum upon it.

"Now the piper is paid. More to follow." She stood next to the man, and began to send out messengers to the nobles of Irondale, commanding them to join her. Before long a messenger of the Heirophant arrived.

"Bring him and his retinue here." She told the messenger.

She turned to Bernard again.

"Pick a tune, piper, I'll follow,"

Moira

Temple

Why wasn't this Priestess more troubled by her own blindness? What had she imagined would happen, meddling with forces beyond her comprehension? Scraps of knowledge ripped from the garbled writings of hedge witches and madmen were not a well-formed plan.

Here Kristina stood - hovered! - flesh coruscating with stolen power, yet in the High Firmament she remained a burnt-out husk, the barest ember of what once lived within hungering to be rekindled.

Ora?

Obeah?

A facie by any other name was still a facie. A creature feeding on hopes and dreams, giving a little power in return when it felt like it. The Mother of Magic might be more powerful than most but the idea that she was some kind of goddess able to withstand the fury of the Daemon Lords? Moira shuddered to think of the power which had shriven Kristina so, the smell of it all too familiar. If Ora couldn't stand against Haktoo, why should Obeah stand any chance against Haktoo's kin?

"You're right Priestess, time presses and we must work with what knowledge we have if disaster's to be averted. Let me show you what you need to see," the daemon-hunter took a deep breath to still her pulse to a slow, steady beat, and with little concern for social niceties grasped Kristina's hands to her own chest. A blinding ripple of light radiated horizontally from the two women as the power imbued to the Priestess translated them both into the Flow, the sense of drowning in deep waters, of being ravaged by the great rushing of a winter storm. It was foolhardy to force a Glaze like this but Moira had little choice given the imminence of the threat.

Kristina would now clearly see the portal beams as Moira did, two slowly rotating pillars of light, one clockwise and the other counter-clockwise. More importantly she'd be able to see the threat within. The shapes moving within the light, shadows trapped in the fold.

"WE CALL THIS THE TURBULENCE!" Moira's voice barely carried over the maelstrom, "WE CANNOT STAY HERE LONG OR WE'LL BE LOST FOREVER!"

Kristina's face was full of amazement as she looked around her, senses struggling to interpret her immaterial surroundings. A chaotic riot of colours and sounds, of movement and raw emotion, extended through myriad inconceivable angles. There seemed no fixed scheme to the dimensions, the number varying as wildly as their measure, but here and there a flickering flame cast the shadow of a living creature.

"THE PORTALS! FOCUS ON THE PORTALS AND IGNORE EVERYTHING ELSE! THE FLOW WILL CARRY US THERE SO LONG AS WE REMAIN FOCUSED! THEN YOU WILL SEE!"

Summer Evening

Ryosuke Guile

Riding back through the city after searching for any of the Irondale Delegates, Captain Jorg comes across his Lord still surrounded by the rest of the Hunters near the Daldward Gate.

"Ambassador Alice is in the Temple Square, First Minister. She requests your presence straightaway." the middle-aged man reports quietly.

With a quick whistle, the masked man mounts back up and his soldiers fall into an escort around him. Heading towards the Temple Square, several try to impose themselves upon him and bar his path, but the jade token at his hip repels them all quickly.

Upon reaching the heavily defended Temple, the man dismounts and passes the reins over to Jorg. "Find a nearby stable, get the horses some decent millet, and then find me within. And do be quicker about it than you were in finding the Duchess." the soft lilting voice floats out from behind the mask with a hint of playfulness to it.

Presenting himself in front of the Templar Guards, the masked man pulls back his hood to reveal his snow-white hair and then presents his token of state for inspection.

"I am here to see your Grandmistress. I am Ryosuke of House Guile, I believe you should be expecting me?" the young ruler stands entirely at ease, waiting for the standard protocols to be observed before being ushered deeper within.

Not knowing what to expect, Ryosuke spots Alice soon after arrival and heads over to her side.

"Your Grace, it is always a delight to see you. Perhaps you can bring me up to speed before I meet with the Grandmistress? I've heard little, and naught from our own Bernard. It is troublesome, to say the least."

Alice Schwarzherzig

Alice gestures to Bernard.

"Well he is here, Excellency. As for the Grand Mistress... Well..." Alice gestures towards that was the aftermath of the Grandmistress's cavalry charge.

"She's giving the Cultists of the Boy Xlair their fill of blood. Their own mostly, from the looks of it. I've spoken with Emperor Jecht, he's off with the contingent from the Vale at the moment." Alice gestured across the square.

"I recommend we set up here for now and assist the piper."

Yao Ling Pryde

The Square

Yao Ling blinked as something changed. Not in the square. It was still smelled of blood and fear and anger and hatred as the Obian and Vordul soldiers faced each other with death in their eyes.

It was the Obian temple.

The tower of light pulsed and she recognized the life magic flowing through it.

Someone had just taken a terrible risk in that temple.

Blood magic was powerful. Everyone knew it. It's why so many used it. But it was easy. It relied on death to work, even if only small amounts of it. It was easy to collect, easy to use, and far, far too easy to use up. It needed steady infusions of new blood to maintain its power. That was the secret of its power and its greatest weakness.

Life magic was something else entirely. Fed by the very lives of man and other creatures, it was far more powerful than mere blood, but it was also far harder to control. Life was complicated. Life was slippery. Life would always find a way to slip the controls you placed on it. And losing control of could cost the life that fueled it.

Yao Ling had used it a long time ago, when Reeds burned under Daimon control and the portal needed guidance. She had poured the souls embedded in a ring of power into that maelstrom, and when that had not been enough, she had poured her own into it as well. She knew how close she'd come to never coming back from that one. She still remembered the sensation of her hand vaporizing in front of her. She'd expected the rest of her to follow. She had, in a way. Then life had poured back into her and given her back her hand and her youth.

Life magic was powerful. It was also unpredictable.

She prayed for the soul caught in that maelstrom. No. Souls. Plural. Two of them.

She prayed to the gods. To any god out there. To anything with the power to do something, to help those souls before they vaporized in that flow of power and energy.

Osgar Dacara

When Osgar finished his twentieth beer, he yelled at the bar maid to get another round.

The rather bossy bar maid didn't seem to be amused by yet another round for the noisy Margrave and his entourage. She flat out refused to serve any more ale.

His men started to all make their way towards the front of the bar, kicking some tables and chairs along the way.

It didn't take too long before the entire bar was one big browl.

Osgar was filled with anger. He was out for blood...

Ryosuke Guile

Rulers, Diplomats, Ambassadors, oh my!

Taking in the first sight he's really had of the man known as Bernard, Ryosuke simply nods in acceptance of the facts and moves on. With a subtle hand gesture, the men of the Hunters filter into the surroundings like trickles of sand in order to guard the two Twilight Revolutionaries from any possible approach. "I've brought the items we discussed. I shall leave them at discretion of the Magisterium, as ever." he says softly, after the guards have pulled away. "I am not entirely sure as how to assist, but we shan't lack for trying!"

Looking over to the gardener/piper that is Irondale's own member of House Jarbosh, Ryosuke's head tips a considerable ways to the side as he soaks in the view of this unimposing Porlian man. "Bernard, we finally meet at last. I expect you got my last letter?" the Hierophant asks simply, wondering if the whispers are true... and needing to find out for himself if they were.

Alice Schwarzherzig

The Daleish Corner

"Thaumaturgy was my uncle's specialty. I will lead, and you follow." Alice said, taking off the Mediocre Coat of Tyranny and laying it at Bernard's feet.

"The Himoura Sequence shows us the Pattern for the ritual. One is Bernard. One is the music he plays. Two comes next, for protection. My armor, and yours." Alice moved, and pulled out a pouch.

"Three is next. Benard, you, and me... We all represent Irondale in this." Alice said, pouring powder out of the pouch in a circle around Bernard, and then making two more such circles nearby so the three circled made a triangle.

"Iron dust, represents Irondale as well. Next is Five. You will give five summoning scrolls to Bernard. This will strengthen the ritual and help bring forth... It." Alice said, he explanation faltering when trying to explain... It.

"The final component is 8. We will be using something more potent than portal stones however. It should arrive shortly."

Saoirse MacArbin

The Square - Collaborative RP

As the Shadow's Blight archers let loose the arrows, the Lancers Radiant moved smoothly into a gallop. Some fell in the first salvo, but none without striking down one of the Vordulians in their path. The push created a hole in their formation; not a large one, true, but large enough for a few Lancers... And the Grandmistress.

While the few Lancers that broke through the defensive ring continued on toward their goal of interrupting the ritual, Saoirse herself road straight toward the infuriating Vordulian Lady Emilia, who dared defend such open blasphemy before the temple itself.

More arrows streaked through, horses fell around the Grandmistress and the cries of battle resounded, but Saoirse's focus, and lance, stayed true even as a black shafted arrow deflected across her violet armor. Only a few more moments, she saw Lady Emilia walking defiantly toward her and she steadied her lance.

Opposite, Lady Emilia watched the massacre, the screams of horses and men filling the area as the arrows rained death upon the cavalry units. But, they were simply outnumbered, for every horse rider that fell, two soldiers took their place, and to her side the Vordulian noble woman watched her soldiers die by the dozens.

Emilia walked forward, refusing to flinch as horses blurred past her and her people died. She locked eyes with Saoirse and cleared her mind of any other objective, her palms sweat as she tightened their grip on sword and dagger.

Unexpectedly, a Vordulian spearman stepped forward, jamming the butt of his spear between the cobblestones of the Square, and leveled the spear forward. The Grandmistress' horse did not have time to redirect, causing the horse to wretch unnaturally and collapse hoof over head, crushing the brave spearman and killing the horse.

Saoirse's vision was a blur as she was pitched forward onto the ground in the Square and only through pure instinct was she able to toss the lance aside and tuck her body to land in a roll. Rising back up to her feet as a Vordulian soldier fell beside her, dead, the discarded lance protruding from his chest and propping him up like a scarecrow in the bloody battle.

Lady Emilia saw Saoirse fall to the ground and rushed forward in a sprint. To Saoirse's credit, she was quick to recover, and Lady Emilia found an able and capable warrior waiting for her as she engaged with a flurry of jabs from the short sword.

Saoirse's saber flashed out, swatting aside the first jab and giving her enough time to raise her buckler to block the next. She responded with two quick arcs of the curved sabre to push the offensive on Emilia, who deftly ducked the first swing, and blocked the second with crossed dagger and sword.

The Square became a brutal and primal fight. The magic in the air, the tension of the past, the present, and that which had yet come to pass, erupting into a storm of blades and fury. But to the two noble women, they were the only two people in the world, circling each other with matched rage, seeking the other's weakness.

In the end, Saoirse's skill and training from Vahanian exceeded that of the young Lady Emilia. The Grandmistress jabbed forward with a feint, pretending to slip. A simple trick, but one that Saoirse guessed that Emilia wouldn't consider, she was just too young and inexperienced. Saoirse's intuitions were correct and Lady Emilia fell for it, lunging in and leading with her short sword, to which the grand mistress quickly recovered and stepped aside.

Lady Emilia was left over extended and Saoirse brought her buckler across with a cruel back hand, the edge of the shield slamming into Emilia's hand with a CRACK, knocking the sword onto the ground. As the young woman yelped in pain, Saoirse grabbed her by the platinum blonde hair and yanked her close, holding the saber against her throat.

Emilia breathed heavily as the world slowed down, and she looked across the Square which was full of the dead, and dying. Within the center of the corpses stood Godfrey, though Polli was not visible, and the blood ran free though the Heraldrim forces were busily hacking and stomping across the ritual space.

"Blood for the blood God" Emilia whispered triumphantly.

Saoirse pulled back the saber, prepared to end this Vordulian blasphemer here in the street when a calm came over the square.

Peace. Compassion. Calm. Contentment. Love.

Yao Ling Pryde's scroll glowed in her grasp as the spell was cast.

Saoirse stayed her hand, and the two noble woman stood in the square, Emilia disarmed and restrained by the firm grasp of the Grandmistress.

Jecht Tideweaver

The Square

Shrine of the Shattered Vales

Jecht had been standing over the woman who continued her song for some time.

He stepped forward to the small alter of the shrine, careful not to disturb Dolores. At the foot of the shrine, he offered 3 scrolls of magic, placing them at its foot.

"What better purpose could my gift from Saoirse serve than ensuring our work here succeeds?" he said under his breath.

He began to strip. He removed his freshly repair and fitted Cruel Plate Mail of Grhek, the many glowing arcane runes shifting in various patterns, and placed it next to the scrolls at the foot of the shrine build by Dolores.

Stripping off the padding that was under the breastplate, the Emperor of the Shattered Vales now stood at the foot of the shrine by the singing woman bare chested. The many scars from his duel with the Blood Emperor Xlair during the final battle of Wudenkin contrasted harshly with his slightly tanned complexion. His body was lean and muscular from years of practicing the lance. His long hair was pulled back though several strands began to fall in his face. It looked odd, the man naked from the waist up yet it full ceremonial plate mail from the waist down. The Emperor dropped to his knees.

"Veiled Goddess, hear my words. I offer unto you items of great power and of great importance to me. Use your faithful to bring your will to fruition!"

After a moments pause Jecht drew a dagger from his hip and continued.

"Take now my royal blood. May it strengthen our tie along side this artefact of power and scrolls of magic."

With a swift motion Jecht cut across a bulging vein in his left arm. Blood spurted from the cut and sprayed across the shrine, the Cruel Plate Mail of Grhek, and the magical scrolls.

Jecht turned his gaze towards the pillar of light, began to listen to the whispers, and waited.

Vahanian Blint

Saoirse charged her lancers forward, the arrows rained down death on them. Vahanian's soldiers pressed against the throng of the assembled crowd and did their best to shield the onlookers from stray arrows. Vahanian stood in the middle of the square. Hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword, unafraid. His eyes tracked Saoirse as she charged, as her horse fell, as she recovered, and engaged Emilia. Vahanian was reacting, the sweet familiarity of battle settling over him. He moved with the grace and poise of a dancer, and the purpose of a soldier. A Vordul troop, Vahanian wasn't sure and didn't care what unit he belonged to, charged for Saoirse's back, trying to gain an advantage. Vahanian spun and drew his sword in one fluid motion, the soldier was met with the silent whisper of steel cutting through air, and then flesh, and bone as Vahanian decapitated him.

He watched Saoirse fight. Every instinct in him wanted to rush to her aide. The teacher in him wanted to help, but he knew at his core that this was her fight. It wasn't that she wanted to do this. She needed to do this. He kept his distance, and made sure that nobody else interrupted the duel, while watching it with a practiced eye. He studied Saoirse's movements and technique, rattling off the forms she was flowing through in his head. Evidently his training with her paid off, she feinted and struck a critical blow, disarming Emilia and forcing her into submission. A glint of fierce pride swelled in his eye, and a slight nod of approval was the only physical indication of his pride he sent Saoirse's way.

Vahanian's arm surged in pain, new magic was being cast. He ignored the pain, and focused on the sensation in the shards in his arm, the pulsing was different from the Vordul blood magic. This was not magic of death, this was magic of life.

Peace. Compassion. Calm. Contentment. Love.

Yao Ling Pryde's scroll glowed in her grasp as the spell was cast. Vahanian fought against the magic that coursed through him. Wrestling with the emotions that flooded his mind. He did feel calm, but it wasn't a natural calm. That was a problem he'd always had with emotional magic. Once he knew it was magic, he was able to find the falsity in it. He relaxed some, against his will, but he relaxed.

He scanned the square again, ensuring that Saoirse was indeed safe, before scanning the crowd, sheathing his sword, but keeping his hand firmly on the hilt.

His hazel eyes grazed the crowd, and he spotted banners from all the realms on the continent. He passed over a noble standing in both Thalmarkin and his own family regalia. It was familiar but Vahanian couldn't place it at the moment. The colors and sigil weren't what drew his attention. Something was off about this man. There was a darkness around him that felt like it was just beyond sight. There was evil in this man, of that Vahanian had no doubt. He made a mental note of where in the crowd that man was, and continued his scan. Searching for any who were unaffected, or overcame the calming magic and sought to charge the Grandmistress.

Alice Schwarzherzig

The Daleish Corner

Alice read the note handed to her and grinned. One more to take care of. She dismissed the halfbreed who had delivered her the scrolls, and knelt within her circle, the scroll unrolled at her feet. She read aloud the ancient words of power upon the scroll, an ancient and lost tongue, and she concentrated, pouring her focus, and her anger into the casting. A will to do harm filled her, and the scent of ozone was paloable on the air. She finished the incantation with a precise gesture, the dust of a black diamond scattering into the air, and the scroll at her feet crackled, and a malevolent energy was unleashed.

Alice listened, and was greated with a scream over the din, and cries for a healer. She grinned in accomplishment until she noticed healers rushing... To the wrong location.

"By Willy's balls." She cursed under her breath. She unfurled another scroll, and began anew. This time the air seemed pleasantly warm about her, and smelled of juniper. As she completed the ritual, a warm light surrounded her, and faded. Soon the light shone again in the midst of the Vales permiter. The healing ritual undoing the damage of the errant aim of the first spell.

Timsen Quasath

Square

Screams, blood, metal, orders, and more crashed through the air, assaulting all the senses. Timsen, having been warned and observant of all, did not flinch at the sudden cacophony of death. The battle raged, with blood spilling all around the walls and streets. No doubt several groups were pleased with the results and the blood sacrifice, not caring or knowing that all their desires and plans clashed.

Timsen also witnessed several attempts at appeasing or appealing to the Lights, with Emperor's offering items of power and their blood, to commoners offering their very souls. Timsen also caught wind of healing magics being cast, whether to heal the mortals or heal the Lights, or both, he did not know. However, Timsen agreed with the general principle. Healing magicks could aid the efforts of humanity here.

Reaching into his hidden folio, Timsen drew out his Healing scroll with care. Caressing the scroll, Timsen pondered whether it was best to cast it, or throw it into the Lights.

Kristina Chamberlain

Temple

She had thought the noise outside of the column had been bad. In the stream of the column the noisw and discord created such a sense of disorientation that she found herself distracted sending her eyes darting to trace the non-existent movements that would correspond to the noises. The sound was akin to the most violent storm, but there was no physical movement, making her realise that only part of her was here.

Voices called her name in a feast of tongues and shadowy forms came close to resolving before her eyes, while also dispersing back into the vibrant landscape of lights.

"THE PORTALS! FOCUS ON THE PORTALS AND IGNORE EVERYTHING ELSE! THE FLOW WILL CARRY US THERE SO LONG AS WE REMAIN FOCUSED! THEN YOU WILL SEE!"

She pulled her gaze back to Moira, her form was like a stone in the rapids, the columns magic attempting to envelope and pull the woman apart, but slid from her rejoining the swirling helices of the column. She dared not imagine what would happen were she here alone.

"Are we?" Her words were swallowed in the white noise. "ARE WE BEYOND THE VEIL?!" Even jer astral form felt the excitement of such a prospect despite its separateness from the actual body. Another wave hit, blurring the edges of Moiras form, and with a jolt of anxiety Kristina followed the womans gaze, seeking out the portals.

Moira

Temple

"WELL WE'RE SURE NOT IN KEFFA ANYMORE," Moira's laughter was felt rather than heard, ripples in that roaring ocean of discordant memories.

This wouldn't work.

It couldn't work.

Old insecurities squirmed at the edge of Moira's conscience, the faces of those she'd judged emerging from the primal chaos, and with them others, unknown to her but all too real to the priestess whose hands she still clasped.

A deep breath.

A second.

A third.

As her thoughts stabilised a path of granite blocks formed beneath the two women, each grounded in a just judgement, reassuringly solid and conveying the resolve of firm conviction. The path extended by a circuitous route towards the twin pillars of light. All about them the Flow thrashed and writhed but on the path there was calm.

"WHAT JUST," the Priestess was suddenly aware she was screaming and lowered her voice to its normal register, "What just happened?"

"Space and time as we know them are absent from the Flow but it is able to manifest something akin to them. This path is constructed from my duty. Each brick a judgement rendered," Moira squeezed Kristina's had to reassure her, "Let's hope my judgements were just!"

Many steps passed seemingly in an instant and the two women now stood in the full glare of the columns within touching distance. Indistinct shapes moved within and the columns seemed to bulge and buckle and groan whenever one of the shapes pressed against the inner columns periphery.

"Something is trying to escape the fold," Moira gestured to the heart of the light, "what is it?"

Siclica Wolfvern

The Square/Aftermath

Siclica stood near thecenter of the corpses surrounded by Godfrey. Looked at every spear, arrow, lance, horse and man laid to their death. This is not what she wanted to be apart of. For people to throw their lives away. Their was no victory to the dead for they can not speak and their deaths gained no honor or glory.

Her eyes redden and tears began to fill. "Why did it have to come to this. No one was harmed for these events to unfold. This fight was pointless and only for ideals of two people. They should've just committed to a duel and left their men out of it." Fallen to her knees the grief she felt was filling. She looked over to where Emilia and Grand Mistress stood. Wiped her hands full of blood and stormed over to them.

Polli had began playing hymns. Calming and easing the grief she felt.

Emilia was arrested it looked like with how the Grand Mistress restrained her. Upon reaching them Siclica marked both of them with the blood of their men. Emilia among her face and the Grand Mistress among her the arm the restrained Emilia. "These are the blood of the people you lead over your squabble. I want to jab you both through with my halberd but, enough dead is already laid across the grounds. I hope your both satisfied with this outcome for their families won't be. A mad young girl thrist for power and a ruler failing to be able to properly had 1 person. Disgusting!!!"

Finally she walks back to the the pile of corpses and see if any amount them still live. Along the way back she orders "those of you that are still alive and are able help the wounded. This fight is over and we must save who we can for they are still not our enemies this day."

Angyll

Screeching to a halt behind Jacinda, Angyll looks up from his own ill fit shirt while still muttering about dances and banquets. He looked up to see what caused the delay, nimble fingers trying to button up a plain white shirt he snagged off a body along the way.

"Get out of the way!" yelled a fleeing Vordulian soldier, trying to abandon the massacre in the square.

The crazed soldier charged through the street toward Jacinda with sword drawn, his eyes only on the street behind her with disregard for the commoners that stood between him and escape.

Angyll's pale gaze snapped up as he saw the soldier lift his hand to hit his new friend, and he vaulted forward.

The soldiers hand came down, the gauntleted hand hitting Angyll across the cheek as he dove to intercept the hit. The blow snapped his head to the side, and redirected his momentum to careen into the dirt on the ground. The wretched frame of the starved and depraved Angyll coiling into a ball, pale fingers curling into jagged digits.

The Vordulian soldier stood stunned momentarily with the interruption to his intended target Jacinda, but without interference he saw his chance to escape the square. The soldier made to run from the commoners and chaos when he was hindered by his foot grabbed and restrained.

Angyll's right hand gripped the man's calf as he clawed himself back up from the ground. The previously joyful gaze collapsed into chaos and hate as he climbed the man with a feral grasp. He grabbed his belt and drug the man down onto the road where he mounted him, clutching his hands together and bringing them down on the man's back, just below the neck.

The first hit knocked the man's chest down to the ground, where he tried to rise back up. Then a second, a third, a fourth, a fifth hit came, Angyll pounding down on the man's back like a gorilla protecting it's territory. The hits came from everywhere at once, hitting the soldier's face, the back of his head, his shoulders, as Angyll screamed landing hit after hit.

Eventually the Vordulian soldier stopped moving and blood pooled beneath the helm as Angyll pulled back swollen and broken hands.

The slender man stood up, looming over the fresh corpse, and grabbed his right index finger with his left hand. He wrenched his hand quickly and a POP was heard as he reseated the knuckle in place of his broken hand. Looking back up to Jacinda and Nerta, he put on a broad smile like a dog that just killed the livestock, ignorantly proud of an act that was instinctual.

He flatted the white shirt with bruised hands, smearing his victim's blood down the clean white cotton as his pale grey eyes look toward Jacinda and Nerta for approval.

"Doesn't this shirt make me look fancy?"

2nd October

Summer Day

Dancer Rea

He'd held steady through the entire battle, watching the blood and offal fly through the air. A single Obeahain solider tried to push past the pair, but Anyte's maidens dealt with him before he even got close to Anyte and Dancer. The pair of nobles sparring caught Dancer's eye, fluid movements and clean forms marking them both as trained nobility. One wore the colors of the Vordul, and the other the colors of the Obeahains. Considering how fancy the Obeahain dressed, she had to be important.... As the older woman brought her sword down for the final blow, Dancer's attention was pulled to a flare of magic washing through the city. Ever since he had returned from the dead, he'd had a sense of these things, and if he focused, he could even feel the shape of the magic around him. Entering Keffa had made his hair stand on end, so he hadn't bothered to even try to use his Sight; the sheer amount of magic in the region would probably knock him out cold. However, that didn't stop the feeling from ripping across his arms before the spell washed over the crowd.

Calming, interesting. Dancer whispered a prayer to himself, placing his hands in a steeple for a moment, and letting the magic part around him in a wave. He couldn't stop it from hitting anyone else, but he certainly wasn't going to be swayed by some hedge magic in a time like this. As he let his hands fall, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Jheda in the crowd. The eyes of the two men met, and Dancer motioned for his former knight to join him by Anyte.

"Jheda, I need you to guard Princess Anyte. Can you handle that? This has to stop, and these fools clearly don't understand what they are doing."

Jheda nodded, and Dancer patted him on the back, before stepping out into the bloody square. Some random woman had just finished yelling at the pair, and Dancer passed near her on his way to the dueling pair. He walked with purpose, sword returned to scabbard, even if his hand still held it tightly. In a matter of moments, he found himself in front of the two woman, still locked in place by drawn steel. Carefully, he placed his free hand on the steel, and pushed down and away from the Vordulain woman's exposed neck, staring into the Obeahain woman's eyes. He spoke softly, so only the pair could hear:

"Grandmistress, I assume? Stop for a moment, and look what you have done. Blood feeds netherworld magic, Saoirse. Unless you want Deamons to fly across your skies, do not feed the Lights any more."

Yao Ling Pryde

The Square

The clash of battle pulled Yao Ling's attention away from the twin souls caught in the magical flow.

Obian cavalry commanded by the grand mistress of them all charged across the square.

Vordul archers held the line in defense of those performing the blood ritual meant to... stop? redirect? takeover? change the column of power.

They hadn't had a temple here. No place of power. Just the square where they could see the Obian temple.

Yao Ling had to accept their courage. They thought the Obians were doing something crazy. Yao Ling wouldn't disagree with that. But they'd come to use blood magic to destabilize it. And that was more dangerous by far.

Yao Ling watched the cavalry charge, and in too many cases die to arrows, but they were just as courageous as their enemies. Their blood spilled on the cobblestones, but they breached the line and brought their leader to the threat she had come to end. The dead and wounded lay around them as they dueled, and the hatred radiating off them and reverberating through the magic all around showed that there would be only one outcome to their duel. They intended to see each other dead.

Then a golden glow of magic pulled Yao Ling's attention back to her wall. The scroll she'd used to enhance her calming spell pulsed in time to the weapons each combatant wielded. Brighter and brighter with each strike. Then it exploded in a wave of magic that rushed out to fill the entire square. She watched the magic flow and eddy, going around some people, flowing through others, and sometimes just stopping to dance around other people. But a significant percentage of that magic flowed directly into the bloody fight and smashed into the waves of anger and hatred radiating from those two combatants.

Yao Ling's eyes were blinded for a moment as the two energies clashed. Then the blood magic collapsed to reveal Grand Mistress Saoirse MacArbin of Obia'Syela holding her enemy in a hard grip. Hard, supremely uncomfortable, and one that would probably leave bruises for months to come. Death lay all around them. Suffering and pain. Blood magic radiated all over the square, flowing between the cobblestones in search of others to enrage, even as her calming spell attempted to stop it.

And there, in the middle of it all, the two combatants who'd brought them to all of this did not kill each other. The blood ritual was over. It had not been sealed with that final death born of anger and hatred and rage.

Yao Ling hoped that would be enough.

Then she turned her attention back to the twin souls caught in the magical flow and fingered another scroll.

Was it time? No. It wasn't time. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But definitely not now.

So Yao Ling returned to her prayers for those two to find their way where they needed to be.

And as she did so, her fingers strummed the magical consecrations built into the Daishi temple around her. They were designed to combat Daimon influence, not something like this, but power was power. It could be turned to any purpose at need.

She let out a long breath. There was a lesson there. A warning.

Yao Ling smiled at the warning. She knew it well. They were old friends. Very, very old friends...

Jheda Orobar

Jheda didn't know if he would ever get used to those milky eyes, lacking any kind of emotion. They sent a shiver down his spine, it almost felt like looking at your own grave. He didn't know how they got to be like that. He heard stories, but his gold was on them being the result of something Dancer picked up in the whorehouses. Still, if you were what they focused on, you knew what was expected of you. Jheda stepped towards the Princess and the Duke.

"Jheda, I need you to guard Princess Anyte. Can you handle that? This has to stop, and these fools clearly don't understand what they are doing." Jheda nodded, Dancer knew he would give his life without hesitation. A short signal to his captain was enough to have the perimeter around them tightened. Standing next to the Princess, he drew his sword. The swan etched on the blade proof of his mastery and skill. "At your service, Princess," he said, looking at the events before them. He recognised Vahanian, Kethan and Saoirse. They knew who he was, and they knew there would be a price if they tried anything. Jheda wondered if they were willing to pay it.

Dancer walked into the chaos, towards the Grandmistress, as if he owned the Square, the Temple and all the people gathered there, as if nothing could touch him. The man probably even thought Obeah would obey if he desired so. Things would get interesting very soon.

Emilia Delamoire

Emilia struggled against the Grandmistress' grasp, but with her right hand broken and her left hand restrained, the 5'5" diminutive woman was held fast. Though she felt much larger and stronger, there was no bluffing or talking your way out of this anymore.

The spell had calmed her some, though the potential loss of the ritual which she had sacrificed everything for, caused the fury to bubble just beneath the surface as it combatted the arcane. She had put all of her eggs in that basket, risking her status among her own people, risking the potential of war based on her actions, risked her life and that of any around her.. for nothing....

She looked at the remnants of magic and hoped that she was wrong, hoping that Polli was able to complete the ritual and that the blood sacrificed in the square today would fuel the magic and that the power she felt during her own Oath would strike the city of Keffa and vindicate her actions.

Seeing a man walking toward them, Emilia's forest green eyes snapped to him with suspicion and hope, as he pulled Saoirse's weapon from her neck.

"Grandmistress, I assume? Stop for a moment, and look what you have done. Blood feeds netherworld magic, Saoirse. Unless you want Deamons to fly across your skies, do not feed the Lights any more."

For Emilia the only path was forward, no matter the consequence. She had made her bed, and she would lie in it. Besides, men were her favorite target, and of course one would arrive to calm the two "hysterical" women. Leave it to men to show up after the battle is done to try and appear the wise overseer.

She didn't know who she talked to, or his past, or even his relevancy to the situation at hand, she only saw another target for her venom.

"Let them come," Emilia spat, responding to Dancer, "let the skies turn red and blood rain from the sky to herald the coming of chaos!"

Emilia didn't much think she had a home to return to, the lack of support from her own realm made that apparent enough. She may have had an ally in Siclica, but based on her reactions here today, even that was in question.

With no other choices she could see in her rage filled mind, she chose that she would either die or ride at the forefront of chaos to bring hell on Beluaterra. Both would be better than sulking back to Wudenkin a failure and a fool.

"All shall perish in the reckoning of the blood storm!" she said with as much conviction as she could muster, struggling against the Grandmistress, though still unable to free herself.

Blep

The Square

Blep watched the two women and the menacing man from the edge of the square. He was quite happy not to be involved in the slightest with such strange people, and ate the loaf of bread he had on him. There was blood everywhere on the square, but wasn't that what nobles always did? Cause bloodshed for no good reason? That's what he thought anyways.

His outfit was a simple red tunic. He wasn't sure why he was actually thinking about what his outfit was, he already knew what he was wearing. Maybe if he didn't think strange thoughts like that, he'd be a noble too. Perhaps.

Godfrey Greybrook

Amongst the chaos and the blood spilled, Godfrey looked to Polli:

"It is your destiny to make a triumph of this day. Come, let us complete this ritual for all our sacrifices here cannot be wasted. Tell me champion, what needs to be done."

Eriol Blackdagger

ENTRANCE TO THE CITY

As his horse entered the city, Eriol could hear the clatterings of combat. However, with the news of chaos that he has reached his ears, he was not surprised. Having common rabble and nobility rub elbows on equal terms is bound to cause issues. Throw mystical activities into the mix and the recipe is one of disaster. However in the distance, the Blood Regent saw the colors of the Empire as part of the activity. His jaw clenching in anger, the Lord of Vordul commanded the Regnal Horse forward at a quickened pace. Eriol made sure that his contingent was not at full speed, to give the impression that he is joining in this melee.

Upon arrival to the scene, Eriol was taken aback by the complete insanity at what he was witnessing. Soldiers from all over the continent watching as the Grandmistress and Emilia, a young woman who had deeply impressed the Blood Regent, going back and forth while the mysterious Polli nearby, as is Him Eminence Godfrey.

As Emilia spat “"let the skies turn red and blood rain from the sky to herald the coming of chaos!" Eriol could not help but smirk.

Eriol dismounted while saying in a loud voice, “I appreciate the introduction, but it is entirely unwarranted.”

Sadona Vilanova

The Daleish Corner

Suddenly, as if noticing a shadow for the first time, but one that had always been there, Sadona was standing by Ryosuke and Alice. Sadons held out a bloodied dagger.

"Your Grace, as commanded, the Blood of Jarbosh." Sadona spoke softly, Polli's blood still wet on the blade. It had been too easy in all the commotion to slip in and out unnoticed. Nobody has even noticed Polli cry out.

Summer Evening

Skirmish in Keffa

The following units attacked Keffa:

"Pointy Sticks" (Osgar Dacara, Royal of Thalmarkin, Margrave of Sandefur, Thalmarkin)

Due to the overwhelming odds, however (17312 CS defending forces), the attackers were quickly surrounded and forced to surrender.

The attacking units were dissolved, and their commanders taken into custody in Obia'Syela.

Alice Schwarzherzig

The Daleish Corner

Alice took the dagger, wet with Polli's blood, and dipped the blade into a vial of water. Alice scraped the blood from the blade until the vial turned red. She shook it and handed the dagger back to Sadona, and looked at Ryosuke.

"And the final portion to start the ritual. The blood of Polli Jarbosh. So the Vordul ritual began in blood, so shall we steal its essence for our own." Alice poured the contents of the vial into seven other vials, and placed the eight containers of blood in a circle around her. Ryosuke and Bernard.

"The blood of Jarbosh should also serve to multiply the power of our own ritual. Bernard! Play!" Alice commanded as she stepped into her circle, gesturing Ryosuke should as well.

Blep

The Square

Blep saw bloody dagger and woman stab poor lady. He didn't like that. He threw a bar of soap at the Noble woman who consorted with stabbers.

"Foul play! Foul play! Bad person stab lady! Says something about Jarbosh! Worshippers, Worshippers!"

Phelan Dragonborn

The Square

Phelan watched, entranced as the beautiful lady worked her magic. He chided himself for thinking she would need his help with anything. He was just a common man after all. When the spell was finished the air rippled with power and he felt both energized and at peace. He had never had this kind of feeling before. He glanced at Betty and she was staring at Yao Ling with a rapt expression on her lovely face. Phelan thought in that moment she was even more beautiful than Yao Ling. He shook himself mentally, he had to remain attentive, aware of the surroundings, if he was to accomplish what he offered; protection for these ladies.

As he scanned the area, he saw nothing that caused concern, but the noise outside in the square was almost deafening, and bodies were dropping all over the square as the two forces fought.

Vahanian Blint

The Square

That same strange noble crossed the open square and approached Saoirse and Emilia. Speaking in a tone just quiet enough for Vahanian not to hear. How this man found his way through the press of soldiers and guards, Vahanian didn't know, nor was it important right now. There was an unknown, and potential threat, standing next to Saoirse and that had to be dealt with.

Vahanian crossed the square towards the trio, wracking his brain for where he'd seen the family crest adorned on this noble's garb. Then it hit him like a thunderbolt. Rea. The family name flooded his brain like a cottage by the sea during a hurricane. This was the family that had led to the death of Vahanian's brother. This was the family responsible for the death of Leatho. Once more, fury leapt to Vahanian's call.

He approached the trio, blade in hand, he grabbed Dancer and pulled him back and away from Saoirse, saying through gritted teeth, "Back away." As soon as he made contact with the man, his arm rebelled in searing agony. The type of pain that he only got around truly dark, evil magic. A flicker of doubt whipped through Vahanian's eyes, and was quickly replaced with determined resolve. At Vahanian's touch, Dancer whipped his sword from his hilt, like a coiled viper striking at prey, in a blinded attempt to dislodge himself from the perceived attacker. Vahanian brought his blade up in time to deflect it. The clang of steel meeting steel echoing across the square, almost like a bell heralding an arrival. The two men stood locked together by blades, neither willing to give ground.

"Who the hell are you?" Dancer hissed. Vahanian dislodged his sword from Dancer's, driving him back, and placing himself between Dancer and Saoirse. "Stand. Down." Vahanian said. A slight breeze picked up, seemingly from nowhere, billowing the fringes of tunics, cloaks, skirts, and dresses of the assembled masses. Vahanian stood, sword at the ready, eyeing Dancer up and down. "Give me a reason." He spat, his voice dripping with the implied challenge.

Emilia Delamoire

The Square

"Kill him!" Emilia shouted to Dancer, referencing Vahanian.

"Release me and I shall fight at your side!!" the small Noble woman's struggles became more intense as she writhed and twisted trying to get out of Saoirse's grip. As Vahanian put himself between Saoirse and Dancer, Emilia kicked forward and hit Vahanian in the back of the knee. Whether the hit would do much to the train warrior, or Dancer would find an opportunity to use it to his advantage, Emilia didn't know.

Ryosuke Guile

The Daleish Corner

Unbuckling his breastplate and setting it at the appropriate keystone location, Ryosuke then places 7 scrolls into the exterior formation of the ritual circle while muttering nonstop as he seemingly glides from place to place. Watching Sadona arrive with the dagger, Ryosuke merely nods in acceptance of deeds already done and witnesses Alice laying down further infusions of strength into the arcane array inscribed on the floor. When Alice beckons for him to join, he passes his buckler to his personal attendant, Grik, on the edge of the crowd, the Hierophant of Irondale steps inside the circle and into a position equidistant from Bernard and Alice.

"You heard the Duchess, Bernard. Play us a song." Ryosuke says softly, his mask concealing whatever expression might be on the young man's face.

Vahanian Blint

Emilia's kick was an annoyance at best, but it did enough to set Vahanian's temper off. He stepped back, keeping his eye on Dancer until he was next to Saoirse and Emilia. He turned and looked at the writhing child in Saoirse's grip and in a moment of annoyance, the back of his hand cracked against Emilia's cheek, causing her head to whip to the side, but not enough for Saoirse's grip to weaken. In a parental tone that brokered no argument he commanded "Silence child! The adults are speaking." As he turned back to face Dancer, he gave an unapologetic shrug to Saoirse as he walked past her and took up his post between Dancer and Saoirse, but far enough away from Saoirse that any further attempts at kicking, spitting, scratching, biting, and general annoying behavior from Emilia were rendered worthless.

Blep

Blep threw a wooden statue at the big mean man who smacked the young lady. He wasn't very nice man, no sir. His mam always told him to stand up to bad men, since he was the strongest of his brothers and sisters.

"Bad man not brave, beat up priest and hit defenseless lady. Blep not like."

Emilia Delamoire

The Square

Emilia's head snapped to the side, the pale cheek turning a flush red with a split to the soft skin bleeding down the side of her face. She was well versed to a beating and knew she could expect the hit to swell up into a nice black and blue by the days end. It took her a moment to shake away the bright lights that obscured her vision and the pain that pulsed in her temples. When she did, as usual, it was her mouth that did the fighting;

"Oh yeah, the "adults", Champion Priest Beater, the Abuser of Women, the amazing, the astonishing Vahanian!" Emilia laughed, her voice ringing out merrily in the Square.

"You going to send me to my room, oh glorious one? Should I put on a nice slip for you, or do you like the mystery of wondering what's beneath?" Emilia taunted.

"Oooh please, punish me more, I could use a good spanking m'lord." She ended the last taunt, spitting out some blood on the ground in front of Vahanian.

"Please, I've been hit harder by a stiff breeze."

Vahanian Blint

Vahanian wanted very badly to turn around and decapitate Emilia on the spot, but he restrained himself, ignoring her taunts and insults as one would a misbehaving child, acting out for attention. Instead he focused on the burning feeling in his arm, the portal shards were reacting to something about Dancer. A darkness that Vahanian hadn't seen or felt in a long time.

He studied the man before him with a warrior's eye. He looked to be in his 5th decade, but there was something about him, something in his eyes that spoke of a lifetime of experiences, and not all of them pleasant. Every instinct in him said to strike, to press his advantage and kill this man before him. His body screamed at him to obey, to end the source of his arm's pain. He pushed all of that aside, wrestling the emotion down, choking it into submission until he was once more master of them and in control.

The child's screaming hadn't let up, but he barely heard it now. He was singularly focused on the man before him, who was Dancer Rea? Vahanian delved into his own brain and reviewed what he knew. Thalmarkin noble.

Rea family.

Dark magic

Warrior.

Afflicted? Sick? Possessed? Acting?

Vahanian hated this, he hated not knowing, not understanding.

• Focus. Time for that later.* He thought to himself. He tensed and relaxed his muscles, readying himself like a wolf readying for a kill. He wasn't sure if Dancer was going to attack, but he'd be damned if he was going to be caught off guard.

Emilia Delamoire

The Square

Being ignored by Vahanian was a good play, and only made her more angry. Her struggling lessened as she focused instead on her words, trying to find the right angle to make the man squirm. She watched him looking at Dancer, and switched her offensive.

"Oh I see, not into the ladies hmm? He's a bit old don't you think, but then again so are you? Tell me, when you're both old enough to be the "papa bear", which one carries the burden?" Emilia smirked, jerking her chin up at Dancer.

"I bet he'd be the dominant one, just look at him, I bet he has a set of whips at home just for you." She went on, "Too busy day dreaming about a whole different "sword" fight to respond to me?"

"Nothing like a good thrust and parry, wouldn't you say? Hell, if beating up on priests isn't a sure form of foreplay I don't know what is. Here I thought you were whispering in his ear, but maybe you just wanted a little nibble."

And so she continued, oblivious to or ignorant of or all together not caring about what danger she was in, with the stream of insults.

Dancer Rea

By Akkan, that man was fast. Dancer had had barely enough time to defend himself before being thrown back from the dueling woman. Not that he was a fast fighter himself. Due to his eye sight, and his mangled back, he'd found strength to be his friend in fighting, rather then speed. And what had that feeling been, the almost buzz when the man had touched him? He took in the situation for a moment, the two woman still tangled on the ground, Jheda loyally standing by Anyte's side, some child from VS riding in, based on the blood red banners, and the man standing in front of him, defiantly standing in his way.

His old friend anger rose within him at the man. How dare he interrupt his conversation with the Grandmistress? A light breeze shifted his wolverine skin cloak,

"Kill him! Release me and I shall fight at your side!!"

The VS noble on the ground yelled and kicked, receiving a swift slap in return from the man in the way.

"Oh yeah, the "adults", Champion Priest Beater, the Abuser of Women, the amazing, the astonishing Vahanian!"

Ahhhhhh. The Duke and Lord of Keffa. No wonder he had gotten in the way. Dancer smiled his wolfish smile, and lowered his sword point to the ground. He'd heard stories about this man, and he certainly didn't want to fight him, if he could avoid it. His milky eyes fell back to Anyte, her fiery presence somewhat diminished these days by the cane she leaned on. She would tell him to stay calm, to talk it through. Slowly, he breathed, allowing the anger, and perhaps a little fear, to drain away.

"Nothing like a good thrust and parry, wouldn't you say? Hell, if beating up on priests isn't a sure form of foreplay I don't know what is. Here I thought you were whispering in his ear, but maybe you just wanted a little nibble."

The VS woman continued to shout insults, at both of them now, but Dancer focused only on the man before him. Children playing at nobility were not his concern right now.

"Vahanian Blint, is it?"

His gruff growl rolled across the space like a wave. He was a solider first, and diplomacy wasn't his strong suit, but for Anyte, he would try.

"Help me stop this, or stand aside, Vahanian."

The colors of the twin light pillars reflected off the steel of drawn weapons, the pair of men, both survivors of the last invasion, staring each other down.

Vahanian Blint

"Vahanian Blint, is it?"

His gruff growl rolled across the space like a wave. He was a solider first, and diplomacy wasn't his strong suit, but for Anyte, he would try.

"Help me stop this, or stand aside, Vahanian."

The colors of the twin light pillars reflected off the steel of drawn weapons, the pair of men, both survivors of the last invasion, staring each other down.

Vahanian didn't move for a long time, didn't speak. The square seemed silent despite the incessant chirping of Emilia and the general hum and buzz of the assembled crowd. He met Dancer's eyes, Dancer raised an eyebrow quizzically at Vahanian and Vahanian responded with

"Dancer Rea, puppet and lapdog of the heathen princess." Dancer stiffened at Vahanian's verbal jab and turned to glance at Anyte. Vahanian clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as if to summon a dog. Dancer's head turned back to face Vahanian, a mask of fury.

Vahanian rolled his shoulders and said "You are in my city. You are in my realm. You want the authority to stop this? Come and take it." Vahanian's stance lowered as he prepared for what he now knew was coming. Two titans of battle were going to war.

Siclica Wolfvern

The Square

"Emilia calm down!! Please!!" Yelling from center of corpse. "Screaming isn't going to help you..."

"Oh yeah, the "adults", Champion Priest Beater, the Abuser of Women, the amazing, the astonishing Vahanian!" Emilia laughed, her voice ringing out merrily in the Square.

"What the hell is Vahanian" Her body turned to her direction. She noticed 3 people Polli screaming in pain with blood, and two men standing near Emilia and the Grand Mistress. Her eyes moved furiously not understanding how did they get there already and she gone unnoticed of this.

Head running at what should be done Polli injured they need attention, Emilia is in danger, two new men are now on the stage they will need to be dealt with. She took a moment then took action. "Axel attend to Polli immediately, you five, pointing to the edges of the ring of dead, grab your spears and shields and come with me" Siclica barked orders and them ran to the meet the new threats.

Upon approaching Emilia is still throwing insults and her rage had not quilted. She had gathered one was named Vahanian that which she was insulting and the other Dancer. She approached them from a third angle coming from Polli direction. Putting her between them and the bodies behind them. "Who are you two!!! And what are you doing here!" She was to far away to had heard any pervious talk they may have had.

A few moments passed the Spearman she called for had made it to her. "Circle around them I don't know who to trust." Her eyes daggers at the two of them cause she had let them pass her unnoticed. Vahanian had scoffed at Emilia and she didn't like she her ally be looked down upon. And the other had yet to speak motive unknown.

She waited for answers halberd drawn and ready to strike any who made any sudden moves.

Emilia Delamoire

The Square

"ooooooooh you going to let him talk to you like that papa bear?" Emilia continued, injecting herself into every conversation Vahanian tries to have and addressing Dancer.

She looked over at Antye as Dancer and Vahanian eluded to the "heathen princess", returning her attention to Vahanian.

"Everything's a heathen to you isn't it, too busy "Obeying" as is your God's name sake to actually have semi intelligible thought." Emilia asked the older warrior.

"And how fortunate, I did say you needed a dog to kick after you finished beating up the priest. Is this the lapdog you mean to kick?" Emilia looked between Dancer and Vahanian from her restrained position back and to the side.

"I mean it would probably be more polite if you didn't kick someone else's dog, but you've never been one for the high ground, have you Sir" She prattled on.

"Just like men to come in after everything's already taken care of and make it about themselves."

Emilia glanced over and spotted her dagger on the ground about five feet away.. if she could just.. get there. She began to set her feet more solidly as she resumed, now more to distract than to harm.

"I am sensing some serious sexual tension here guys, you should really talk this out. We need details.. deetaiiils...," she moved her right hand some, which caused pain to shoot up her wrist from the break from Saoirse' buckler.

"Things like, what's your favorite position? You should really work this out before you get started, establish a good safe word." she pivoted her hip a bit to prepare to elbow Saoirse in the ribs to see if she can get free and get to her dagger.

Dancer Rea

That arrogant, insufferable heretic. Anger returned to him, and the wolfish smile fell away to the wash of pure rage that fell over Dancer. How dare that ignorant swine insult Anyte? His calvary sword rose of it's own volition, and he took a single step forward.

Bastard.

Another step, his sword raised to a aggressive position across his body.

Heretic.

He stepped again, his sword point flashing in the lights of the pillars as he fell into a form taught to him long ago.

Arrogant human.

He couldn't help it, with the magic in the air, and heretics in front of him, he fell into his proper fighting style of yesteryear, and, despite his sword being to heavy for it.

Liar.

Dancer lunged at Vahanian, rage tracing his every step. Steel clashed as the men, two sides of the same coin, came to battle.

You have accepted the duel from Vahanian Blint.

Jheda Orobar

Jheda watched Dancer circling Vahanian, both men ready to spill blood. From the corner of his eyes, he tried to determine if Anyte would intervene or not.

In the background, the enormous pillars of light, changing colour ever so often, were all but forgotten. Even if their constant humming would be replaced with a clear voice shouting 'I'm the reason you're all here', people still wouldn't care for such a meaningless event. Not if their own ego was at stake. Maybe Daimons wiping them all out was what they deserved?

Anyte Luitolf

The Square

Anyte watched from afar what was happening as Dancer approached Saoirse as there was little else she could do being surrounded by Jheda's men. The whole scene that had been splayed out before her was ridiculous and flew in the face of Saoirse's words to her as queen. She had claimed that the templars and inquisitors had changed, which from what Anyte could see were true, but they had not changed for the better. Instead, it seemed they had changed places. Where once it was the inquisitors that would lay blame without proof, now that seemed to be the purview of the templars. This was shown to Anyte by no other than the Grand Templar himself.

"You see that fool there," Anyte said speaking to Jheda, "the one Dancer is fighting? That is Vanhanian. He is one of the ones that stood by and watched as inquisitors burned down my family home for no reason. He is one of the ones that allowed them to chase most of us to other continents. He spoke out against them enough, but when push came to shove, he allowed them to attack innocent people with impunity. "

She stood there, surrounded Jheda's men. At one point in time, she would have never needed such protections, but ever since that fateful night in Unger things had changed. The night that left stains of her own blood one the Throne of Thalmarkin itself still to this very day.

"We have a choice, my friend. We can stay and watch this, or we can look for more information on these lights. I had a run-in with a commoner that gave me a ring a while back when I came to the city. They usually know more about portals as they are the ones to search out the stones and place them. That could be a start if you don't view yourself above it."

3rd October

Summer Day

Duel

Sir Dancer Rea, Duke of the Northeast Wind, Baron of Jedinchel meets his challenger Vahanian Blint, Grand Templar of Obia'Syela, Duke of Amen Keffa, Margrave of Keffa, Marshal of the Holy Reclaimers for the agreed duel till surrender.

Vahanian has decided to use the 'defensive' strategy while Dancer has chosen the 'overrun' strategy, giving Vahanian the advantage.

The duel goes back and forth for a while. Finally, Dancer surrenders after suffering a light wound.

Kristina Chamberlain

The Temple

The sudden calm amidst the etheric maelstrom was the first taste of peace she had felt in days. The slightly disconnected feeling ensured that she appreciated this was not her and some ethereal sense of self that she knew would have to end... but if this was beyond the veil, if this was how death felt, she understood a little how some older people embraced the peace as they escaped the struggle. If she could stay on Moiras path of good intent, she wondered would death be such a bad thing.

She allowed Moiras words to keep her attention, she knew this levity was not her, but it would be so easy to be consumed by it and she began to wonder if this lulling to torpor was in preparation for the column pevour her inner self. Moira indicated the twisting columns. The way they bulged and changed was not a little disturbing...

"Something is trying to escape the fold," Moira gestured to the heart of the light, "what is it?" Moira asked.

Kristina tried to engage her second sight, but the fact thqt this was an astral projection meant that such qctivities were impossible. As the columns twisted she felt a tug on the prime fires that wasincreaingly insistent of discharge... it frightened her.

"Its like there is a... fracture, where it is... when it comes around... by Obeah the pull for magical energies is strong... it puts me in mind of when women are birthing... the crescendo of contraction, but here it is reversed, as the contraction comes it is pulling in.... Moira, do you feel it... tugging at your very soul? Oh my..."

Jheda Orobar

The Square

"You see that fool there," Anyte said speaking to Jheda.

Jheda watched the wide variety of fools and idiots before him. All believing their meaningless actions and business were more important than the massive eruption of magic happening right next to them. Fighting eachother instead of trying to control this together. He wondered how much longer it would take the Gods to realise their failure and wipe them all out. Looking at the pulsating lights, it might be sooner than anyone realised.

Just as he was about to ask the Princess to be more specific, she started talking about Vahanian. When she finished her story, Jheda couldn't help but feel her sentiments about this man were justified. "I know him, Princess. He may present himself as a noble and just man, but he isn't much more than a cold-blooded murderer abusing his faith to justify his actions. His reputation isn't one built around good deeds and love stories. Not a man to be underestimated. I believe Dancer to be just as big a fool for crossing his path."

"We have a choice, my friend. We can stay and watch this, or we can look for more information on these lights. I had a run-in with a commoner that gave me a ring a while back when I came to the city. They usually know more about portals as they are the ones to search out the stones and place them. That could be a start if you don't view yourself above it."

"Not at all, Princess. Those are actually the first wise words I heard today. Please, lead the way." He looked back at Dancer, wondering how he would get out of this one.

Eriol Blackdagger

The Square

Eriol watched the two dueling while Emilia barked insults with a bored, almost irritated expression. "With this magical activity, why are these fools....." Eriol could not finish his though, as he saw his servant, the Lady Emilia, eyeing a dagger on the ground and slowly going towards it, meanwhile goading on the two combatants. Looking around for the Grandmistress, the Blood Regent gasped he believed he understood what was going on. Eriol tried to make his way through the throng to intercept Emilia, before she did something that thousands might regret.

Moira

The Temple

The Priestess was an interesting character study. Clearly an intelligent woman with a willingness to seek Moira's aid very much at odds with the popular image of Obian arrogance, yet at the same time a sorceress with a definite agenda. Outside the Vales the sect of Obeah had few friends and there were likely as many who considered them daemon worshippers as the Mordokians. Was that the purpose of her ritual? And if not what was she trying to achieve?

It was also obvious Kristina had never entered the Flow before as she was having difficulty adjusting to the peculiarities of the higher dimensions. Not only would Moira have to be very careful in how she chose to explain things, there was also the danger Kristina might not realise the danger their adventure posed to her physical flesh.

"A fold like this is not a natural phenomenon," Moira was circling the twin columns, though to Kristina's eyes the movement seemed erratic, kaleidoscopic, strobing through some angles more than once and through others not at all, "Think of it like a..." she wanted to say transfluence but that would require too many other explanations, "like a stoppered bottle if you will - set adrift in the Flow. Someone made it for a purpose and sealed it with powerful wards but all this energy around us means it doesn't want to stay sealed. Currently only our portals are keeping it that way."

The two women were side-by-side again though it seemed their hands had remained clasped throughout.

"Whilst I'd love to know who created this bottle and why they set it adrift, the question we really need to answer Priestess is whether or not to let the cork pop and release whatever is contained within."

Hunt progressed

Inica has continued hunting for undead in Keffa using the charge strategy, and has reached group #8

Inica has continued hunting for undead in Keffa using the charge strategy, and has reached group #9

Ralidithous

"What do you mean hunt number nine?" Ralidithous sputters, clearly jealous. "How is that person not dead?"

Vahanian Blint

Dancer stepped through his form as the hatred in his voice seeped through his gritted teeth. Vahanian dropped into a low stance, sword at the ready when he paused. That form. "Impossible" he muttered to himself. His mind flashing back to a dungeon, the screams of his wife and child, that sick, rattling, laugh, and then the cold tundra of the Thalmarkin wildlands.

His vision cleared just in time. The strike from Dancer was strong, his technique was near perfect. Vahanian defended. His arm burned, and he used that, pulling the pain into him and using it. Using it to fan the flames of his own hatred, of his own rage. In this moment, every atrocity Vahanian had ever witnessed, every moment of agonizing torture that he'd endured, all of that was centralized in this one.... creature before him. The clang of steel on steel drowned out every other sound in the square for Vahanian. He settled into his battle calm with ease. There were a number of the gathered people who'd seen Vahanian fight. Most had just seen him spar with a priest, but very few had seen him fight someone of such skill, and even fewer had seen Vahanian fight with the determination he fought now. Dancer was strong, his attacks weren't the fastest, but when they did come, they made themselves known. Vahanian parried and riposted, and was met by a glancing blow from Dancer's saber, his parry hadn't fully blocked the strike. Vahanian's mistake was reprimanded by the all too familiar feeling of cold steel parting through warm flesh. He pulled away, blood welling to the surface of his bicep. Given the amount of blood, or lack of it, he knew the wound wasn't deep.

Vahanian grunted, barred his teeth and waited. The onslaught of Dancer resumed, as did Vahanian's defense. The fight devolved from a contest of skill, to more one governed by sheer will and pure determination. Vahanian and Dancer each blocked and delivered strikes that would have felled most men. He raised his guard high, catching Dancer's downward slash. Their blades locked by the cross-guards, they were inches from one another's faces. Vahanian's arm seared in pain, and his bicep ached from the cut. He slammed his forehead forward, into Dancer's nose, causing a blinding flash of pain, and blood to pour from Dancer's nose. Some of the blood mixed with the beads of sweat that had formed on Vahanian's brow, and both sweat and blood streaked down his face like small, red rivers cutting across the landscape of his face. Vahanian disengaged their swords and pushed back, creating distance.

Dancer grinned at him through the blood, his teeth peering through the pouring blood like white islands in a lake of red. He spat out a wad of phlegm and blood, howled and surged forward. Strike after strike was thrown by Dancer, powerful blows that reverberated through Vahanian's guard and up his arms. Vahanian held his ground, blocking and parrying the flurry of powerful strikes. One slipped through, and bit into Vahanian's shoulder. If he hadn't been wearing his armor, he was relatively certain the strike would have taken his arm off. The pain of the blade being lodged in his shoulder was almost as bad as the pain of it being ripped free. The two in rapid succession caused him to howl in pain and made his head and vision swim. Only the burning pain in his arm, from the portal shards kept his head clear. Vahanian breathed through gritted teeth. Despite the battered nature of his body, he was sure he'd seen an opening. He just needed to time it right. If Dancer were to strike with the right combination and it could work. He just needed to hold on long enough.

Vahanian Blint

Vahanian's patience and endurance were rewarded, he found his opening, he dodged, and parried the slash he felt coming, he was rewarded with the opening he'd seen. He moved forward and past Dancer, slashing down with his blade and scoring a gash on Dancer's right thigh. As Vahanian stepped through with his strike, he hooked Dancer's right foot with his own, and kicked it back, dropping him to his knees lest he totally lose balance. Vahanian spun, dislodging his foot from Dancer's and slashing down, cutting across Dancer's back. The whimper of pain from Dancer was otherworldly. Dancer's saber rattled against the ground as he dropped it, gasping for air through the pain. Vahanian was still seeing red. He kicked Dancer in the back, dropping him onto his chest and further driving the air from his lungs. He stood over Dancer, grabbing a fistful of his hair through his own heavy breathing and readied himself to sever the heathen's head.

A soft familiar voice in his head spoke to him. "Vahanian.." The voice, full of calm, peace, and life spoke softly. Vahanian didn't dare look up. Didn't dare see whom he knew was there. He knew he wouldn't be able to take it if he saw the vision with his own eyes. "Vahanian." The voice said again, this time a bit more firm, but still quite gentle. He felt a soothing presence brush against his mind, he knew what he had to do and despite his every instinct, every desire screaming at him to kill Dancer, he knew that this was not the time nor place for the heathen's death. He was still holding Dancer by the hair, he crouched down next to him and pulled Dancer's head back and said "You live today because I allowed it." He roughly released his grip on Dancer and stood, walking over to his soldiers and his captain to have his wounds quickly tied with strips of cloth.

Timsen Quasath

Square

Bloody battles turned into individual duels as enemies focused on specific opposition and channelled their wrath. Timsen ignored them all, as they were mortal affairs. He was focused on the Lights, and the...things...within. Something was coming, that was for sure. Something...that could either be for good or for evil. The colours kept shifting. The potential kept flowing. As mortal magics were released, the Lights were reacting.

Timsen fingered the scroll again and made his decision. He moved from the square towards the Temple, a place to get closer to the Lights. Close enough to make a small offering, but one that may cleanly and safely open the way for something better.

Approaching the shifting Lights, Timsen waited until the bold Green emerged, a healthy natural colour. When the Green glowed brightly, Timsen knelt in front of it and offered his Scroll of Healing, feeding it into the Green Light.

Summer Evening

Saoirse MacArbin

The Square

So many things happened at once, it was impossible, later, for Saoirse to disentangle them in her memory. Which came first, which came later, which happened in the way she thought she recalled, and which were subject to that most human molding of events to matters that made more sense to her, was never something she could decide upon. Instead, her thoughts of that time were ordered by the different strands, as that made the most sense to her, personally.

Sometime after finishing with the Vordulian troops belonging to the venomous blasphemer, a mob of soldiers from Thalmar charged into a mass of mixed Obian and Valesian forces, and the new guards who had arrived as part of the reinforcements, and who then replaced her valiant fallen lancers, joined the fray and killed their share of the attackers before eventually aiding in the capture of their leader.

Her head was filled with a wash of outrage, pure rage, calm, contentment, concern, focus, and worry. She could hardly tell what was magical, what was her, and what was a reflection of those around her all trying to sway her actions. Her white-knuckled grip on the Sanguinian held for a long moment as she tried to bring herself under control, under her will, regardless of what outside forces were seeking to impose. There were shouts, and pleas, and demands and commands, all noted and all waiting their turn behind Saoirse's eyes for consideration.

The vitriol from her erstwhile foe spewed out in an unending stream of filth, annoying and disgusting, but of no consequence.

She saw Vahanian intervene, and face off with what she belated realized had to be the infamous Dancer. Part of her wished she could just watch the clash, certain she could learn a great deal from that struggle.

But it was the arrival of the Blood Regent, obvious from his retinue and insignia, that brought certain ideas together in her mind, suddenly pulling her focus to the fore.

"Blood Regent Eriol. Your noble here has violated the terms of visitation to Keffa, and I remand her to your custody. I expect that she not be allowed further disruptions or blasphemies, and to be removed from Keffa and Obian territory as soon as may be. Polli is similarly guilty of blasphemy and attempting to blatantly interfere with our rite, and they need to be brought to heel, if they are not already dead from the fray. I am not asking for executions, though that is the usual punishment for such crimes in Obia'Syela, but I need them controlled."

There was blood splattered across her violet armour, and her eyes were brown eyes held his fiercely.

Eriol Blackdagger

The Square - Collaborative RP

Dancer and Vahanian's duel in the courtyard was a work of art compared to the prior bout between Emilia and Saoirse. The sound of metal sang through the Square, a courtyard already littered with the bodies of the dead and dying horses and soldiers from the massacre meant to interrupt Polli's ritual that had quickly turned dark and bloody. The sigils drawn in both chalk and blood surrounded both Polli and Godfrey, who did their best to stand their ground as the Keffan military stomped through the ritual, working to smear the markings with their feet and trying to disarm the goblet of blood from Godfrey.

Siclica, a primal looking Amazonian warrior with a helm of a white lion, its paws and pelt draped over her shoulder and back, commanded armed soldiers to protect the combatants while trying to diffuse the situation.

The Blood Regent of Vordul Sanguinis, Eriol Blackdagger's cavalry stood for the most part at the eastern entrance to the square, the Regent himself having dismounted and approached with a few personal guard the scene at the center of the Square. He scanned the Square As Vahanian and Dancer's dance of blades came close to an end, trying to determine the role that his Vordulian subjects played in the scene taking place before him.

As his gaze swept past the two combatants he spotted Siclica, who appeared to be working toward calming things down, good. Looking further, Eriol's eyes landed on what appeared to be the Grand Mistress, tightly holding onto a short blonde haired girl in black and red armor. The Regent suddenly recognized the woman as Lady Emilia, most recent addition to the Vordulian Nobility. Following her gaze, he saw the dagger she looked at, and engaged the duo.

As the Regent came forward, Saoirse recognized him and spoke out to address him, "Blood Regent Eriol. Your noble here has violated the terms of visitation to Keffa, and I remand her to your custody. I expect that she not be allowed further disruptions or blasphemies, and to be removed from Keffa and Obian territory as soon as may be. Polli is similarly guilty of blasphemy and attempting to blatantly interfere with our rite, and they need to be brought to heel, if they are not already dead from the fray. I am not asking for executions, though that is the usual punishment for such crimes in Obia'Syela, but I need them controlled."

Lady Emilia saw her opportunity as Saoirse was distracted and jerked her right elbow down into the Grandmistress's rib cage, her bony elbow not enough to cause much harm but enough to cause a reflexive inhale and cause Saoirse's restraining arm to loosen just slightly. The smaller Emilia, who was a scrapper through and through, writhed and broke free of Saoirse's grasp and made a lunge for her dagger. Using her off hand given her right was broken, she grabbed her dagger off the ground with her left and swing wildly toward Saoirse, the dagger's tip aimed for her chest.

The Blood Regent's hand snapped up, grabbing Emilia's hand by the wrist, halting the blade from hitting Saoirse. With a deft twist of his grip, Emilia yelped out in pain and the dagger clattered to the ground.

Eriol's cold, calm demeanor shattered, his body shaking in anger. "By the Eternal Emperor, where have you lost your mind?!?!? I gave my word in good faith to the Obians, and you have made me to be a liar!"

Kicking the dagger away, Eriol turned to the Grandmistress, never letting go of Emilia's arm. "Blasphemy?" Nodding up to the pillars of light Eriol continued, "I believe we have greater issues than supposed blasphemy, Grandmistress. As for this one, I will deal with her, as she was here in Keffa in an official activity. This Polli was not."

Turning to Emilia, the Blood Regent's demeanor returns. His voice lowers and becomes calm again. "Where is His Eminence, Godfrey, and my friend Gustav?"

Bright Dreams

You wake up, blinded by the intensely bright sunlight of the day, trying to clear your eyes.

Just as your eyes adjust, you wake up again, realizing you have dreamt of awakening to the sunlight.

Valian Stone Daubeny

Outside the Temple Square

Valian saw a figure nearby watching something that was happening in the square.

The figure seemed to notice Valian’s gaze and returned one, the figures eyes blazing as he stepped into the light and Valian felt his heart stop.

The figure seemed to share the recognition but returned it with a cruel smile and his eyes almost seeming to glow red.

Valian turned to Captain Tomasa, her mouth a thin line and her eyebrows creasing in concern.

Valian pointed to the temple “Get Liz and the Piper out of here.”

Tomasa and the 51 other Riot Guard formed to escort and protect Viviane and Elizabeth.

Valian unslung his mace as he walked forward, his face a mask of rage. The figure’s grin widened as they walked towards each other, Valian felt the heat from the fire in the cold alley way, he heard the screams, could taste the blood, see the bodies, his rage focussed on the figure before him and Valian screamed, his voice raw with emotion, it was a loud scream that those in the Temple Square likely heard it.

“BLACKSTONE YOU MURDERER!”

Valian leapt and swung his hammer, bringing it crashing down towards the man, who grinned.

Duncan Blackstone

Outside the Temple Square

Duncan saw the man run at him, he could see the rage and sorrow, Duncan was pissed off already because of Dancer, pigheaded bastard. If Valian wanted to get revenge Duncan was more the happy to oblige Sir Stone and help him fulfil his death wish.

Duncan grinned wider as Valian screamed “BLACKSTONE YOU MURDERER!” Duncan dodged the first blow, nearly effortlessly.

“I was always faster Valian, I was then and I am now.” Duncan rolled to the side and tossed a dagger which sliced across Valian’s cheek.

Valian grabbed Duncan by the colour and sent him stumbling into the Temple Square, Duncan fell flat on his back as he tripped over the stones.

Valian was on him, he swung down and Duncan barely dodged a blow as the mace smashed into the stone, cracking and denting it.

Duncan kicked Valian in the leg and rolled to the side, he jumped back up into a combat stance, Duncan drew both his daggers and grinned.

Valian was bleeding lightly from the dagger slice and he was clearly tired by the heavy plate armour, Duncan grinned “Too much for you Stone, here I thought you were here to avenge them? Or did your Wife, Son and Blood Brother mean nothing too you?”

Valian screamed and charged again “YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO THEM!”

Emilia Delamoire

The Square

Turning to Emilia, the Blood Regent's demeanor returns. His voice lowers and becomes calm again. "Where is His Eminence, Godfrey, and my friend Gustav?"

Emilia pointed toward the center of the mounds of corpses left over after Saoirse' Radian Lancers charged her unit of archers, Shadow's Blight. Within the center of the circle were Godfrey, bleeding from the side of his face and holding a goblet full of blood and his severed ear, and Polli, who had led the Vordulians to Keffa, and had begun the ritual in the square with chalk, until the priestess had broken her chalk and forced her to resort to using blood.

"The Prophet is there! They cut off his ear, Regent, his ear!" she gushed, her voice becoming one of fright and disparity.

"I promise you, we did not lay the first blow, I was just trying to protect them... protect them and I failed!" Emilia's eyes welled with tears, the small woman looking her young age as a profound sadness shown on her bruised face.

She pointed over to Vahanian, "That's the man who cut his ear off, and when I tried to stop him he hit me," she pointed to her right eye which was beginning to swell and showed a cut across the high cheekbone.

"And then she ordered my men to be slaughtered in the streets and she tried to capture me!"

She curled her arms inward, burring her face in Eriol's chest as she began to sob. "And Gustav.... oh Lord Gustav... I saw him rushing inside by himself.. I'm sure they've... I've sure they've..... killed him."

"Please don't let them hurt me any more, please Regent, don't let them..."

She trailed off into sobbing uncontrollably and trying to hide in Eriol's embrace.

Siclica Wolfvern

The Square

"I can vouch for that Saoirse did start the battle. I had my men line up in front of Emilia's archers as a deterrent hoping that it hold off any thought of physical confrontation but, it didn't. She charged long into spears and archers".

"I keep Godfrey save from harm once the battle had begun. Sadly Polli was to far for me to reach." She exclaimed. "No further injuries has become to him unless they were self inflicted which I did not stop him."

Siclica face was still looking at the combatants though the duel was ended. She wasn't sure if this would be the end of it. Now that her liege was here though a small breath of relief had came to her.

"Are you two finished now?" She commanded "If not please continue so it'll be easier to arrest you. I may hold no authority here but, their is to much life loss already over the actions of Emilia and Saoirse. Mainly Saoirse". Her eyes swiftly glared to the Grand Mistress for a quick second then went back to the Combatants.

"What should be done with these two Blood Regent? One cut off Godfrey's ear and the other I still don't know off."

Polli

The Square

Earlier with Godfrey

"Poli, your arrival here is a sign that the Eternal Emperor wishes to usher change. You must be inducted to the faith, offer your wrist to me and repeat after me. From here, I will see your destiny through as his prophet:

From this day forward,

I am Sworn to the Eternal Emperor.

As it has been given, it can be taken, by his word.

Through him I shall have power.

Through him I shall have immortality.

Through him, and only him, shall I have absolution.

For now, and forever.

So do I swear, In Blood Eternal.

Polli nods, offering her wrist, "It brings change indeed, in more than one sense."

Solemnly, she swears, "From this day forward," her mind racing across her many previous days.

"I am sworn to the Eternal Emperor," as she reflects upon her calling to the column of light.

​​​​As it has been given, it can be taken, by his word.

Through him I shall have power.

Through him I shall have immortality.

Through him, and only him, shall I have absolution.

For now, and forever.

"So do I swear, In Blood Eternal," she concludes the oath, along with Emilia Delamoire.

Dancer Rea

Pain was not a new concept for the Duke, he had lived, and caused much of it over the years. However, it had been literal decades since he had felt more then a dull pain in his back. Long ago he had been whipped like a slave, hundreds of times, leaving a thick scar tissue that had blocked all feeling from his back ever since. The cut reached from hip to shoulder, and Dancer could feel every inch of parted flesh. Vahanian had cut deep, through the layers of scar tissue, and to the muscle beneath. At least, Dancer hoped it wasn't any deeper. The sudden pain cut through his anger, and dropped him to his knees, and the swift kick that followed sent him to the ground.

His head was pulled back by the hair, and cold steel pressed to his neck. Was this it? Was this the end? Ironic, the last Deamon Cultist dying trying to stabilize the veil between worlds. He looked out over the crowd through his pain filled vision. He could see one of his advies out there, watching from the crowd. He'd failed them, dying like this. The steel pressed harder into his neck, and a small amount of hot blood trickled down the blade.

Then, the steel left.

"You live today because I allowed it."

Liar. Dancer had seen first hand what happened to his people when an inquisitor got ahold of them.

Dancer's face met stone, and beautiful, painless darkness enveloped him.

4th October

Summer Day

Training Match

Sir Jecht Tideweaver, Emperor of Shattered Vales, Royal of Shattered Vales, Marshal of the Army of the Vales meets his challenger Arnulf Wellshot, Dame of Ete City for the agreed training match.

Arnulf has decided to use the 'aggressive' strategy while Jecht has chosen the 'overrun' strategy, giving Jecht the advantage.

After a series of blows, Jecht wins the training match. Unfortunately, the winning blow was deep and Arnulf has suffered a minor wound.

Luto

Somewhere on Keffa's Streets

"It is what It is. The Others are those who attempt to take it for their realms. It would hurt because It is not yours," Luto attempted to explain to Yao Ling over the roaring and screeches of a catfight between a cougar and a tiger.

Jecht Tideweaver

The Square- Shattered Vales Sect

Jecht took to an open portion of the square while awaiting for Dolores to need him further for the ritual.

He met one of his new nobles, Arnulf to begin their teachings in the blade.

When Arnulf charged the Emperor hastily, Jecht made a judgement call to show the younger noble how to counter aggression with aggression. Shifting his blade in a lower stance, Jecht flicked his sword up as Arnulf closed in, deflecting the oncoming blade well away from the Emperor but causing the noble to cut themselves along their ribs.

The duel was over quickly as the young knight cried out and grabbed their wound. Jecht immediately sheathed his blade and ran to their side.

"Bring the healers. They will need bandages." he commanded.

He pressed his hands against the younger nobles ribs and applied pressure.

"You'll be fine. But we will certainly need to work on your technique.

Viviane

Outside the Temple Square

The coffeehouse owner busy counting the coins, Viviane left under Valian's protection.

As Valian and his captain began to tense up, then Valian rang out his order and engaged some man in a brawl, Viviane asked Elizabeth who the piper was.

Valian Stone Daubeny

Outside the Temple Square

Elizabeth whispered to Viviane “That man there is Duncan, he is my uncle, he killed my dad and my friends.”

Elizabeth looked scared and huddled closer to Viviane, softly she spoke “You are the Piper, Miss Viviane, they call you and the others like you a Piper, I think it has something to do with an old folktale.”

Dolores

The Square

Shattered Vales

Soon after Emperor Jecht's offering to the Goddess, Dolores is tested by a magical attack. For two agonizing minutes that seem to stretch forever, her bones break from the inside, ripping open her skin. Miraculously, she maintains a hold upon the ritual. Yet then it all ends, the bones resetting, the skin reclosing, as if nothing ever happened. Confused, but relieved, she is uncertain but feels as if a trial of the ritual has been overcome.

Viviane

Outside the Temple Square

Viviane's countenance dimmed at mention of the fratricide, putting a comforting arm around young Elizabeth. One moment speaking about such a delicate subject with such frankness, the next seeking comfort as the young one she was.

"Me? A piper?! Nonsense!" Viviane clapped her cymbals for effect, "What could I ever have to do with am old folktale?"

Valian Stone Daubeny

Outside the Temple Square

Elizabeth smiled in the comfort of Viviane before she struck her cymbals, causing Elizabeth to yelp at the sudden noise “I am sorry Miss, that was just what I have been told by Uncle Valian.”

Elizabeth looked worries towards the Temple Square, she hugged Viviane tightly, trembling “I-I am scared, there is so much pain, so much death, it cries out and the music turns to chaos, I hear it in my head and soul, the music of Obeah is being drowned out by pain.”

Captain Tomasa approached the two and pointed towards the Temple and the Pillar of light. “Come on, we must get you to the Temple, trust Sir Stone, he has got this.”

Valian was losing...

Duncan’s flurry of blows forced him back, Duncan had all but rent Valian’s shield apart from the sheer ferocity of his blows.

Valian tried to swing back but felt a sharp pain in his hand, Valian dropped his mace instinctively as Duncan pulled his dagger back across Valian’s hand, leaving a deep slice on it.

Valian didn’t get time to recover before Duncan kicked him full in the chest, causing him to fall into the Temple Square, Duncan wailed on Valian with the pommel of his dagger “YOU ARE WEAK, JUST LIKE MARCUS, JUST LIKE HERVIS, YOU COULDN’T PROTECT THEM, WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN PROTECT HER!” Duncan screamed his words as he held Valian by the collar of his breastplate “THE DAUBENYS TIME IN THE LIGHT IS OVER!”

Duncan smashes the pommel into Valian’s face again, blood and a few teeth flying from the Knight’s mouth.

“You...you took everything from us, well now it’s our turn, The Blackstones are done being second to your oh so precious Daubenys.”

Valian spat blood at Duncan “You can kill me, but you lose Blackstone.” The last word was filled with hate as Duncan looked around to see he had beaten Valian all the way into the Temple Square, he could feel the gazes of nobles on him like a burning beam of light.

Duncan held his dagger to Valian’s throat.

Eriol Blackdagger

In his mind's eye, Eriol is blinded by the vision of sunlight. The light finding every hidden place in his mind and exposing it to its warm touch. It is both startling and comforting. His mental image of himself closes his eyes, and drinks in the light. He could sit here for days and never know it.

The Blood Regent is jarred suddenly by a loud cry of a young woman, "Dont let them!" He is brought back to the real world and to Emilia embracing him in fear, weeping and trying to explain herself.

Shocked by Emilia's embrace the Blood Regent stands motionless, his arms out, but not returning the embrace. Uncomfort and slight embarassment on his face, Eriol swallows hard, and weakly pats Emilia on the shoulder. "Uhhh, now now. No...umm...need for *ahem*" Desparately looking around with one of his nobles latched to him like a leech, he seeks out the Grandmistress. Not directly seeing her but knowing she is close by, Eriol asks loudly, "Is what she says true? Did she not serve the first blow?" Looking over his shoulder, the Blood Regent could make out His Eminence, the Prophet Godfrey. With the commotion and the throng of people, Eriol couldn't make out any real detail. However he was glad to see his friend still lived.

Patting Emilia again on the shoulder, Eriol continues, "Grandmistress I ask, is what she says true?"

Timsen Quasath

Outside Temple, next to the Lights

After offering his scroll of Healing, Timsen awoke from the dream of a full rest and the light of a new day. He felt refreshed in his body and soul. He hoped the dream was the result of his peaceful action.

He hoped the spiritual Healing was enough to restore all humanity in the city, and bless whatever else was happening.

Timsen hoped, and continued to hold onto hope as he knelt in front of the Lights.

Summer Evening

Arjan de Zueww

The Square - Shattered Vales Camp

Arjan had spent an uneasy few days pacing their camp in Keffa. He preferred an honest scrap to all this mumbo jumbo and cryptic message stuff but he was as loyal to the Daishi Goddess as any man and he would do anything to defend her name or any of his kinsmen. He hadn't been sleeping well, troubled by nightmares of evil deamons clawing at his skin and a floods of monsters swarming over him. He also had a recurrent dream of drowning under a lake but a slender female arm reaching under to pull him up. He didn't understand what was happening in Keffa but whatever was, he hoped it would happen soon. Checking his trusty war mace was close by he wrapped his thick cloak around him and settled down to try and catch some sleep.

Dreams of Collapse

You are standing upon a rampart when you hear a rumble, then a shout, and before you can identify the cause, feel the ground giving way below your feet, falling...

Awakening quite tired, you struggle with pessimism towards those you interact with throughout the day.

Heidr Aurelle

Outside the temple square

The clapping of cymbals alerted a presence, who promptly began his chase. Another of the Veiled Brothers at first glance. Amidst the chaos, a natural scene, another guard just running to defend something or somebody. Maybe the temple. Maybe to defuse the situation between Duncan and Valian. Maybe.

Captain Tomasa approached Viviane and Elizabeth and pointed towards the Temple and the Pillar of light. “Come on, we must get you to the Temple, trust Sir Stone, he has got this.”

The guard approached the three women, gave a martial salute, nodded and positioned himself at their back. Maybe protecting them. Maybe.

- "It has been a long time since I had other humans as prey. So long hunting monster and undead... At first it was exciting, and it certainly has a charm. But this... This is better. This is special. In the middle of the capital of a foreign realm, alone and surrounded by guards and armies of many other nations. Completely different from war and battles. I can feel my heart beating so loud I can hear it clearly, even in the midst of the chaos od this city and the noise. My sweat is cold. And I have a strange feeling growing inside me. This... This must be It. The thrill of the hunt!"

The guard draws a knife out of his pocket, grabs Viviane's neck with his arm and...

- "Let the Great Hunt begin!"

Stabs her sides multiple times before running off, evading the actual guards, soldiers and enraged citizens by, precisely, blending with them. Same as before. Just another guard, chasing an intruder. Pointing others like him towards the direction he was supposedly last seen. Just another one of many, until completely lost.

Moira

The Temple

Colours pulsed discordantly through the stones now leading to the columns of light, brooding blues shot through with sepruchal reds and a slender thread of glorious golden orange. As the colours moved they bled into the roiling maelstrom all around, creating shades and hues unlike anything mortal eyes could easily accommodate, an aesthetic born of competing hopes and ambitions and intense hatreds. Whatever was going on in Keffa it was having an increasingly powerful tangibility in the Flow, a synaesthetic manifestation of Beluaterra's ideological divisions. And it was clearly building to a crescendo, causing the dark shapes trapped at the centre of the columns to thrash and writhe with ever greater intensity. Meanwhile the tension between the rotating columns was now increasingly audible as well as visible, like millstones scraping against each other or gears seizing with rust.

"Two portals cannot exist in the same segment for long without cancelling each other out," Moira's voice was tired, strained by the effort of holding the Priestess within the Flow. Somehow she had to make Kristina realise how important it was to make a decision whilst the decision was still theirs to make. Otherwise there were other forces at eagerly at work...

Spilt blood was powerful, something understood since man first killed in the dim dark recesses of ancient history. To kill. To sacrifice. To appease the Higher Powers with bloodied blade held high. The Obeah and Vorduls both worshipped mortals who'd been slain, and whilst Moira was uncertain of the Religious rites of the Heralds she'd travelled widely in the Vordul lands and seen their blood-fuelled rituals to force the apotheosis of Emperor Xlair. If they set their seal on the denizens of the fold who knew what evil might emerge?

"Do we free whatever is in there?" Moira gestured towards the fold, and as she did a sword formed in her own hand, its blade simple steel radiating a pale yellow glow, its pommel marked by a slavering wolf's head with two blazing bloody eyes, "We haven't long before the portals collapse in on eachother and the decision passes from us."

Emilia Delamoire

The Square

Emilia wipes her eyes on her forearm, shooting a scathing glance at the Grand Mistress as she walks back toward where Godfrey stands with the chalice. She pulls out a vial from her waist band with he good hand, and bites down on the stopper, yanking it out and spitting it aside.

She pours the contents of the vial into the goblet and tosses the empty vial on the ground, turning to face the others. A smug smile on her face as if she's getting away with something, she crosses her arms carefully over her chest and returns to her defiant stance along side the Prophet Greybrook, and Polli. Just as new Obian soldiers enter the square, the Blood Regent's troops along with the remaining spearmen of Siclica's unit, bolstering the Vordulian forces as well.

He forest green eyes look across at the fallen Dancer, the victorious Vahanian, and her rival in the form of the Grand Mistress, and waited.

Valian Stone Daubeny

Outside the Temple Square

Elizabeth was shocked as Viviane was pulled from her embrace and stabbed several times in the side as a man screamed for the Great Hunt.

Elizabeth pulled her own dagger and sliced at the man but he evaded her and escaped, she rushed to Viviane’s side.

“TOMASA, CARRY HER, WE MUST GET HER TO A HEALER!” Elizabeth screamed at the Captain, her voice full of sorrow and anger, why, why now, why did this always happen to those around her.

Kristina Chamberlain

The Temple

She was perplexed... almost trancelike weighing up the words and trying to process them as she felt her eyes and her mind drawn further into the maelstrom. Time stretched and she imagined herself at a looking glass, her hands able to pull herself from the other side.

The blade in Moiras hand glowed, another thing imagined but real in this extension of what could and could not be. As she stared at the glyphs of containment she heard them like a familiar song, their warmth resonated to her.

She patted down Moiras hand almost absently. "These are mine.... I think." She couldn't use her sight here, but the feeling was undeniable. "It was me, I bound the magics before the portal stones were set. I am fairly sure these glyphs are mine. I just don't feel that breaking them is the way, Moira, do you not feel the pull from this 'fold.' It is siphoning all magical energies, perhaps to break my glyphs... though I really can't imagine that they are that strong, or because something else is needed to complete the ritual.... it devours everything until it can find what it needs."

She looked at Moira, "either way I am concerned. If we disrupt the containment, the magics held within could go awry and cause no end of damage. If we leave it, it could continue to gain traction and power until it obliterates my containment... goes awry and causes no end of damage... The only genuine hope is to complete the ritual and hope that what emerges... is... well... well, is what it should be."

Duncan Blackstone

Barely Outside the Temple Square

Duncan looked around the square and saw a familiar man laying face down on the stones, “Dancer?” Duncan whispered, Duncan smashed Valian across the face with his dagger pommel and kicked him back before sprinting across the square coming to Dancer’s side.

“My lord, by the Lords what have they done to you.” Duncan took out his healing draught and gently poured some into Dancer’s mouth, he held Dancer up, angling him so that he was rest on Duncan.

Duncan slapped Dancer’s face “Come on boss, don’t give up on me yet, wake up.”

5th October

Summer Day

New Ruler Elected

The realm of Thalmarkin has elected Baelunìataisharà Blue as its new Queen.

Yao Ling Pryde

The Square

Yao Ling pulled her eyes away from column of light and looked around her on the wall.

She took in the presence of the piper and nodded, but then she looked away with a frown.

Betty had been gone too long. Too much was happening out there. Too much death. Too much blood spilled. Too much scheming and chaos.

She needed to do something. Needed to help. But the patrols had been clear. Only Obians and the Vales were allowed free movement in the square.

She'd been lucky to make it to the Daishi temple ahead of them, and though the patrols had looked at her more than once up on the wall overlooking the square, they had not sought to do anything about her.

Still, she did not have permission to just walk around out there. And that meant any attempt she made to do so would just add to the chaos. More chaos would not be good right now.

And then there were the whispers from Luto that maybe she should attempt to disrupt this. To stop this. That this would be bad for Nothoi if It arrived.

Yao Ling shook her head. There was too much magic here right now. If she attempted to disrupt this, it would hurt too many people. And even if Keffa was no longer a center of Daishi as it once had been, there were still over a thousand followers in this city right now. Their belief powered the consecrations of the temple around her, and she would not be their high priestess if she sought to sacrifice them.

She could not take the easy path the Vorduls below her had taken. She could not throw chaos and death at this problem.

The problem was that she did not yet know enough about what exactly they had sought to do here. Two portals of power. Two rings of stones, one atop another. Then throw in all the magical artifacts sacrificed or burned here. All of the magic scrolls used to further boost the free magic just flying around. The intentions of those burning them coming from all over the continent with drives, wishes, ambitions, and intrigues of their own. All of that on top of the original plan that she simply could not see through all the interference.

Yao Ling did not know what they were trying to do. And even if they told her, could she trust that to be the truth? She didn't know that either.

A spectral voice whispered her name, again, like had happened so many times since entering this city.

She wanted to scream at that voice. To tell it to shut up or say something useful. To lash out at it for distracting her. She didn't. She couldn't. That kind of outburst from her, in a city as rife with magic as this one, could do Very Bad Things if she let it. So she did not let it.

She took a deep, calming breath, and pulled another scroll from her bag. She fingered the consecrations of the temple and laid the scroll in them. Then she waited for the column of light to turn green. Everything she felt and saw told her that the green energy was best. She didn't yet know what it was best at, or what it wanted to do, but it felt better than the others. It looked better. It even sounded better. She wished she knew more. She wished she could have learned more.

But Betty wasn't back yet. And time was running out. She knew that in her bones. Things were coming to a head, and Yao Ling had to do something.

So she trusted the feelings, traced the scroll with her fingers, murmured the spell inscribed on it, and poured her intentions towards the portal.

Strength.

Order.

Calm.

The scroll glowed golden on the walls of the temple of Daishi as she finished her work...

Polli

The Square

Saoirse's Charge, Infil Attack

In a crescendo of chaos, Saoirse's chargers sped towards Polli playing the trumpet. Ill-defended after Emilia's men fell, she was little match for the cavalry crashing upon her. Lances and hoofs flew, blood and magic sprayed, and when it was over, a few versions being told, Polli lay injured amongst horses and men. Her legs contorted beyond normal alignment, bleeding and bruised. Little noticed was the unknown infiltrator who managed to survive a maelstrom of Lancers and also wound Polli the same as the Lancers.

Vordul's ritual-energy hung in the balance, teetering upon a precipice. The music of the hymns still played upon the ritual-enthused air. Polli maintained minimal consciousness in her double-wounding but her focus was slipping. Up until now, the stones of the original portal and the offered blood and symbols-in-blood had shown the brightest of any realms' ritualwork.

It was at this critical time that Godfrey's words came through, "It is your destiny to make a triumph of this day. Come, let us complete this ritual for all our sacrifices here cannot be wasted. Tell me champion, what needs to be done"

His words brought strength and hope that It would come to Vordul Sanguinis, just what was needed at the right time to maintain the ritual's integrity, if only just by a hair.

Barely able to speak, "You are doing what must be done," readjusting in pain, "continue".

And with that, Polli faded briefly into unconsciousness while the ritual-energy spun as if a coin deciding how it would fall, or if it might just balance upon it's edge. The trumpet music still drifting upon the air, Saoirse holding Emilia captive, various others had begun to arrive to survey the scene post-charge.

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

Kneeling on top of the temple dome, the only unguarded place Timsen could find in short notice, he remained on guard and with hope.

A voice tickled in his head. That was new. Timsen blocked out the noise from below and concentrated on the voice. It was very quiet, and insistent, and...gentle? It was encouraging to Timsen that he heard a word of birth and hope.

Timsen's hopes faded slightly as the symbols of the blood religion increased in brightness. Then his mind raced quickly. What if other blood, with different intentions, were added to the mix. No, he quickly set that aside, so much blood was flowing around the city that his would either add nothing, or add more chaos. Blood was not the way to stop blood magic.

So what would help this tiny, positive, voice in his head that whispered from the Lights? He immediately disregarded more magic. It had to be something else.

"Speak to me, friend. Say on, little voice, and tell me what you need to live well?"

Summer Evening

Emilia Delamoire

The trumpet's sound was fading, and beside her Godfrey resumed where Polli had left off. The magic was electifying, giving Emilia goosebumps up the back of her neck, and a tingling through her core.

As the forces stood in the square, facing off with one another, there was a silence.. a calm before the coming storm.

There wasn't enough energy, the thought kept creeping into her mind unwanted.

She had done everything she could, she had only recently felt the power of the Eternal Emperor and did not want to let it go. With the power of the ritual she felt true power for her first time, and she was in love.

The Emperor was her only focus, and she gave herself to the power of his blood fully.

"..not enough.." the thought crept in again.

Her forest green eyes splintered with doubt and her nostrils flared. She clung to her knife and she looked around... seeing Godfrey.

She turned, then halted, "No.. he needs to finish the ritual."

Emilia turned back to face Saoirse, Vahanian, Dancer, Antye (whomever is in the scene - apologies).

"As it has been given, it can be taken, by his word."

She raised her right hand, still swollen and blue from being broken by Saoirse' shield. With her left hand, she jammed the blade into her wrist and jerked the weapon cruelly back and forth.

"Through him I shall have power."

As the blood erupted from her wrist she let her arm hang loose and spill blood into the ritual in the Square.

Virgin blood of a true believer, Emilia's last sacrifice. She stood defiantly, staring at those others in the square for a few moments, mouthing the words,

"Through him I shall have immortality."

Emilia Delamoire collapsed, unconscious, next to Polli, Godfrey, and the Ritual circle.

Sabotage!

Bernard's guards, in Keffa, have captured Heidr Aurelle, an infiltrator working for Nova while he was sneaking around the camp of Bernard conspicuously, with a poisoned dagger under his cloak.

Alice Schwarzherzig

The Daleish Corner

Alice stood in her circle, observing the ritual. She watched Bernard play for a bit, and turned her attention to the crowd. She barely noticed Sadona, lurking among the soldiers holding a cordon around the Daleish ritual. She took comfort in the woman's presence. She cast a gaze at the chaos that was the Vordul Cultist's attempts at a ritual, and as she gazed her eye caught movement. Sadona again... No.

Alice blew the whistle around her neck. The Morgul Guard snapped into action, and the figure she had noticed charged towards Bernard, a blade in hand. He lunged, and Alice screamed at Ryosuke.

"Stay where you are! Do not break the circle!"

The Morgul Guard descended on the man with cudgels. They pulled the assailant off of Bernard and beat on him until he went limp. Shackles clamped down on his wrists and ankles, and he was hauled up, and set between Alice and Ryosuke, on his knees. An aid whispered in her and pointed at the would be assassin's family crest.

"Heidr is it?" Alice said, her voice a mix of anger and amusement. "You will very soon wish you were a better hider."

Alice glared at the man, her hand on the handle of her khopesh.

"Enjoy these moments, for very soon your world is going to be nothing but pain. You are in a world of trouble." She spoke, her voice just above a whisper.

"Take him away."

Moira

The Temple

"The portals will collapse in on themselves regardless of what we now do," Moira reiterated as she studied the glyphs, radiant hot irons juddering as if about to come unstuck from their unseen moorings. She was frustrated that the Priestess still couldn't - or wouldn't - confide in her.

Moira's own knowledge of such matters was largely academic, acquired during a long life hunting the wizards and covens secretly working to bring the Netherworld back to Beluaterra, as such she could only speculate as to what was really going on. A summoning of some kind... but who or what? And how did it tie in with the other rituals being practiced throughout the city.

6th October

Summer Day

Ruler Re-elected

The realm of Nothoi has reconfirmed Tyran Arylon Player experience level

mentor Player play preference: rp in the position of Hegemon.

The realm of Irondale has reconfirmed Ryosuke Guile Player experience level

mentor Player play preference: rp-combat in the position of Hierophant.

The realm of Nova has reconfirmed Eugenica Snodaert Player experience level

mentor Player play preference: rp-combat in the position of Pontifix Maxima.

Saoirse MacArbin

The Square

Saoirse shook some of the blood off her buckler, looking to Eriol.

"Yes, I charged. After Polli committed open blasphemies against the Veiled Goddess, conducting a ritual in front of the temple that is interfering with the 'greater issue'-" she gestured toward the original pillar "Both of which were in open defiance of the agreement to allow others inside Keffa to observe. Nothing in that allowed anyone to defy our authority, or-"

She had been focused on Eriol, but finally noticed Emilia's actions when she thumped to the ground.

"-that. So, we have two choices here. First, get Polli, and whoever that is, and whoever that is-" she pointed to the woman who had attempted to berate her earlier "out of our holy city. We will remove the remnants of this ritual, and resume our work. Or, second, things become uglier. I would rather take the first option, and focus on the greater issues, but the choice is yours."

Saoirse looked grimly at the Blood Regent, as the next few moments would determine how much more blood would be spilled in the streets.

Dancer Rea

Memories

He found himself sitting in the center of a tent on a small red rug, at complete peace within himself. Hmmm. Rarely did his dreams start off so well, and certainly not a fever dream from pain. He sat quietly, posed like a monk at meditation. Vahanian had cut his back, and he'd passed out from his head hitting the stones, so this had to be some sort of pain induced dream. Slowly, he took in his surroundings. Maps of the South, and his proper ritual sword both sat prominently, the infernal runes freshly etched into the steel. The detail of his surroundings was impeccable, if blurry in some spots. Usually a dream was less detailed, and based more in feeling. Perhaps a memory then? A very early one at that, he'd had that sword for decades now, and it had picked up it's fair share of nicks and dings. Furthermore, he most certainly hadn't been so careless with his Daemon worshipper memorabilia since he had returned to the world some years past.

Minutes passed and to him, it was as if time stood still, waiting for a specific moment. His breath fogged in the still morning air, hanging in a small could before dissipating; the surrounding rocky shelves were silent, as if they too waited. Hurried footsteps broke morning's spell, and with only one cuss infused slip, one of what he assumed to be his men flicked the flaps open with news.

"Sir! The Arbiter! He is just over the far ridge!"

The moment he'd received the news of his impending punishment, Dancer had two men to watch for the Arbiter's party. Yes, he remembered this. The cold of the morning air wafting across his skin, Dancer remained in place. His breath caught for a long moment. This was a very old memory, and a very painful one. His demeanor was as cold as a night in the dead of winter as words fell from his mouth, unbidden.

"Good. Gather the men, and wait where the Arbiter sets his post. I want you all to understand."

The man's face was confused. "Er, if I may ask Sir, understand what? We have done well, almost routing three units of enemies by ourselves and.."

"No. It is not our accomplishments we look to today but our failures. Those moments where we try to slide by the Truth, pretending our intentions are just when they are nothing more than the Lies of man." The man bowed, clearly still puzzled by his commander's words, turned heel and left.

Dancer rose from the floor, and crossed the room to his wardrobe. As he picked a simple white shirt, a bit billowy in the center, he considered. This was certainly a memory, and a strong one. He flicked past his vests and surcoats, instead sliding on a pair of plain black slacks. Different thoughts came to him, musings of the time, he supposed. He allowed the intrusion to fill his thoughts, letting the memory run it's course. His own voice came to him, whispers from the past. Had he moved to get ahead of the army, and take all of the spoils? No, certainly not. Of course, the Lies of Man are tricky, catching you when you are tired from a long day's work, or when you first wake in the morn, before you are ready to repel them. Maybe he had. Dancer sighed. The only way to know for sure was to endure one (or several, depending on the infraction) of the Tests.

Duncan Blackstone

Duncan held Dancer, Akkan below he was bleeding bad, despite the wounds though Dancer appeared almost peaceful, like he was dreaming, Duncan looked around the square, he need to get his lord out of here, he needed to move.

Duncan shook Dancer’s shoulder lightly “Come on Master, get up, I need you right now.”

Duncan saw Anyte nearby and a face he had seen before, Jheda? Duncan wanted to say, the name was hazy.

Duncan carefully picked Damcer up and held him across his shoulders, he ran over “LADY LUITOLF!” He shouted as he came to a halt, he gently lowered Dancer and knelt “Lady, Master Rea is hurt and he isn’t waking up.”

Yao Ling Pryde

Betty appeared at Yao Ling's side as if teleporting out of the shadows.

It was enough to make the priest jump, and Yao Ling gave her younger cousin a baleful look.

"You're late," Yao Ling said.

"My apologies, mistress," Betty said with an amused smile. "But I have received the permissions you sought. The city is open to you, though access to the inner sanctum of their temple is restricted."

Yao Ling considered that for a moment, and then nodded in approval. "Well done. It is time for us to make our appearance, then."

Betty blinked. "Us?"

"No good deed goes unpunished," Yao Ling said with an amused smile of her own. "Now get out of those rags, and put on that shiny armor of yours. I need a royal escort."

"Oh," Betty said. She shook her head, walked down the steps of the inner wall, and began throwing her peasant rags on the ground.

Yao Ling pulled her attention from that sight and looked back to the square dominating the center of Keffa. She did not like how much blood was on those cobble stones. It would do no one any good to get it on her robes. For a great many reasons.

So she sighed and took her priestly robes off. They were old friends, but would not help her in this city. Her light tunic and trousers would be of far more use here, and the traveling boots had seen worse things than a little blood in their time. She made certain to take her belt and necklace of office, and patted the spell pouch slung over her shoulder. It was lighter than when she'd first come into the city, but she still had many useful items in there.

Finally ready to go, she stepped away from the glowing magical scroll humming atop the walls of the temple, and made her way to the courtyard.

Betty stepped up to her, looking far different than before. The glittering armor usually reserved for the best armsmen or noblemen shone in the light of the columns, and Yao Ling nodded in approval. The wolf standing next to her was more of a surprise. Yao Ling raised an eyebrow at the animal. It met her gaze with a calm assurance and shifted closer to Betty. Guarding the younger woman. Yao Ling nodded.

"Well, I guess we're ready," Yao Ling said with a smile. She turned to make sure their shadow piper was there, smiled, and faced the gates of the temple. "Let's go."

And with that, Yao Ling stepped up to the gates. She paused for a moment to pull two icons from the inner side of the gate. The armored forms of the twin gods Daishi and Atlas rested in her hands and she nodded before pushing the gates open. Then she moved out into the square and walked through the patrols she had so recently avoided with her very faithful armsmen. Armswoman? Armswolf? And where did the piper fit in? She didn't know, but she wouldn't turn down any help at this point.

Yao Ling crossed the square with Betty and the wolf at her side, all three walking tall and proud as they approached the center of all this blood magic. The place where Grand Mistress Saoirse MacArbin of Obia'Seyla had so recently broken the blood ritual, and now faced Blood Regent Eriol Blackdagger of Vordul Sanguinis. She said nothing as she approached the confrontation. She had nothing to add to it at this point. The Vorduls wouldn't listen to her. And the Grand Mistress didn't need the distraction.

So Yao Ling simply stopped nearby, accompanied by what appeared to be a rich knight in shining armor, and a very calm wolf that went to work licking the blood off the cobblestones around it.

---

The Square

Yao Ling frowned at the confrontation before her and saw a line of ravens flying across the square. She followed their progress towards the western side of the Obian Temple. She looked down to see the wolf looking back at her. Then it turned towards the temple as well.

Yao Ling nodded.

"This is not where we should be," she whispered to Betty. "Let us go."

Then she turned away from the Grand Mistress and her opponent to go find out what awaited her in the temple.

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

Kneeling on the marble roof of the Temple was tough on older knees, so Timsen had settled into more of a sitdown. He continued his whispered, one-sided, conversation with the voice that had briefly spoken. Timsen was trying to coax it to speak again using soft words, poems, lullabies, questions, and simple songs. Nothing new had tickled the back of his mind, no words or feelings. He struggled in his disappointment, and thought again if it was the magic that had elicited the response from what he assumed was the green Lights. Regardless, he affirmed with himself that he would not cast more magic. One does not add more water to a kettle boiling over. So, if not magic and if not words, then what?

Timsen thought again of the word spoken/felt to him, 'spring'. Initially he had interpreted that as the season, of renewal and hope and new things to come. Musing, Timsen thought about the word, and how it could also imply action. To spring, to leap forth, to uncoil. Leaning forward, Timsen could easily envision the results of taking that sort of action here, and the hard stop at the end. Hmm, if the voice was calling for wilful human sacrifice, that would be opposite of hope and life as Timsen saw it. Better not continue that line of thinking.

Spring. Hmm, it could also imply water, an upwelling of the basics of life with sweet and cool drinking water. A spring. Timsen drew out the analogy further. It could be a spring, or fountain, of hope! That is an interpretation he could support. So, how to tap into a spring? One needs to find the right spot and dig. Well, this was certainly the spot. Maybe not the precise spot, but the Lights were probably, generally, close enough. So, to dig.

Timsen adjusted his seating position again and folded his legs into a very rough meditative stance. Not having much practice with it, Timsen was soon uncomfortable, but pushed the discomfort away and focused on digging. Digging down into the earth using his willpower, his spirit and his stubbornness. Digging and opening a channel for the wellspring of hope to emerge.

Eriol Blackdagger

The Square

Eriol nodded, then pursed his lips. “So, because she said something, that gave you right to engage in violence? Interesting.”

Pointing to Emilia, and commanding, “With me” one of the Regnal contingent picked up Emilia and slung the unconscious girl over his shoulder.

“I will take her with me, to see that there is no more trouble”. Eriol bowed deeply and began walking towards the Temple. “ As Eriol walks towards the Temple, he shouts back, without turning around, “I will also find this Polli, as well.”

As the Blood Regent walked he suddenly stopped and pointed downwards, but said nothing. His guard laid Emilia on the ground. Eriol’s heart began to race, as he could feel energies that he had only heard about in stories, either from his uncle, or the Wizard Craglan bandying on about ice or some other such nonsense. However, this was certainly not nonsense. As he was surveying the strange occurrences, he saw a striking sight. Yao Ling, a wolf, and a rather impressive looking knight.

Looking to the wolf, the Blood Regent chuckled, “You shouldn’t drink that... Emperor only knows who that belonged to...”

Summer Evening

Yao Ling Pryde

Yao Ling entered the Obian Temple, via the western gate as the birds guided.

A family of mice awaited her inside, and began running down a set of stairs as soon as they had her attention.

Yao Ling shrugged towards Betty and followed them down to the lowest parts of the temple.

She frowned as she felt the presence of a friend ahead. Once a friend. A friend in the future? Someone she knew, or would know. Had known. Tenses were confusing when magic went crazy.

And the magic ahead of her was very crazy right now.

Yao Ling, Betty, and the wolf followed the mice all the way down, and into a chamber filled with magic. Yao Ling scanned it and found the portal stones burning with magical power.

Then her eyes found the friend she had come all this way to see again. Lying in a laundry basket in pieces. And splattered all over the walls. And pulped into the floor. She recognized the bits of the clothing that remained. She would never see Gustav Kuriga again. She fingered the cowled figure of Daishi in her left hand and accepted that fact, even as her mind tried to imagine how this could have happened. He had been so certain in his path. So decided on what he would do. Perhaps that is what killed him.

Yao Ling scanned on to see another friend. They had not met before. Or perhaps they had. She appeared familiar, though Yao Ling did not know her. Perhaps a family member. A total stranger stood next to the friend that could be, and both were frozen in the light of the portal column. Both of their souls were trapped in the column of light. They were what she had seen from outside. And now she could see with her own eyes how much they were risking.

"Halt!" a soldier shouted from the side and a sword came out. "You are not authorized to be here!" the man shouted and aimed the sword at her.

"The Grand Mistress sent me," Yao Ling said in a calming tone, perhaps bending the truth just a little bit. If this was the sanctum...

"Though I do not know precisely WHERE here is," she added with her most disarming smile. Then she nodded towards the two women. "I have come to help them."

Kristina Chamberlain

Temple

"You are wrong Moira," she said the words with more certainty than she felt, but with the saying came resolve.

"The veil is the magical barrier between our world and the daimons... magic transcends the veil being from both sides as it were. I know you know this but you need to understand what I can see if you are to help me."

She stepped behind Moira. "This may be uncomfortable, but trust me..." she placed her hands over the other womans eyes and with an effort of will that made her feel that her brain might literally be pulled through her own eyes she engaged her sight. Resisting the urge to cover her eyes or look away.

"Now look," she felt the womans tentative eyelashes slip over her palms.

With her sight, the cage she had created for the magics looked fine and fragile indeed, the glyphs melting to silvery threads from which the magics, primal, blood and others bulged and bowed trying to escape. The colours changed and coalesced as different things tried to master all the magics, trying to coalesce to tear through and enter the world. All magics were being absorbed as the failed spells slunk like oil into the gaps in her net, becoming one with the larger maelstrom. Forms human and other were within a breath and a song of coalescing into something recognisable and Kristina held her breath and resolve that one of them could be an emissary of Obeah herself.

Even though Moira had calmed the violent flow, with her sight engaged Kristina felt the roar of the magics like waves against her pained consciousness and compensated raising her voice to be heard.

"THE RITUAL IS INCOMPLETE.... THEY ABSORB EVERYTHING THROWN BUT IT WILL TAKE THE RIGHT MAGICS TO BRING BALANCE THAT THE RIGHT CONSTRUCT MIGHT COME OVER!" she closed her eyes, unable to maintain the sight any longer.

As she opened her eyes, it was quiet and bright again. Almost winded despite an etheral form she felt her mortal self take deep rasping breaths. "We can't deconstruct my glyphs until we can control at least the nature of what is to come.... as you see the column is more of a conduit than a portal and I do wonder if what emerges may be from the portal you have set..." she smiled ruefully at Moira. "You understand the flow, can you help us to understand how to bring the ritual to the right conclusion?"

Yao Ling Pryde

Yao Ling held up a letter with a seal on it for the soldier to see. "Priestess Chamberlain told me to show you this to gain access. She can verify if you don't trust the seal."

Nyx Harte

Lady Nyx sharpened her black blades and eyed her target, trailing his royal robes from a distance. The city was crawling with troops. Either she had to be absolutely precise or wait for a better opportunity when he made his way back home.

She skipped behind him with glee, excited to see a blood gush from his head.

Nearby Arrest!

Within Keffa, Selur was arrested by Alice Schwarzherzig, Keeper of Law of Irondale, Ambassador of Irondale, Duchess of Carn Dum, Marshal of the Velvet Glove.

Within Keffa, Xenith was arrested by Alice Schwarzherzig, Keeper of Law of Irondale, Ambassador of Irondale, Duchess of Carn Dum, Marshal of the Velvet Glove.

Dark Dreams

You are walking alone across a charred field, dotted with burnt trees, under a dark gray sky. Ash begins to fall.

You awaken with a fright, realizing it was but a dream. But the deep feeling of gloom and depression does not depart, plaguing you emotionally.

Moira

Temple

"Hmm..." Moira rubbed her chin again, sucking at her teeth as she pondered the puzzle facing them. So the fold was being used as a cistern, to fill with magical energy and then channel that energy into a portal with the intention of breaching this veil the Heralds were so concerned with. It still wasn't entirely clear to her quite how they'd cobbled together the pieces to make this possible given their rather patchy knowledge of the Higher Realms but she couldn't help but feel a certain admiration.

Think Moira. Think. You have all the pieces to figure this out. She turned each fact in her mind: the fold; the cage; the veil; the pillars; the ritual; the temple; the spilt blood; the maelstrom; the gathering armies; the five sacrificants.

"We need a conduit for the excess power," Moira turned her attention back to the pillars of grinding, frozen light, "only by bleeding that from the fold faster than its being generated can we prevent the containment from failing."

It was a plan. A good plan? Maybe. Maybe not. At least it would buy them time. Otherwise that cage could fail at any moment with catastrophic consequences.

"Is that possible?" the Priestess looked doubtful.

"In theory, yes. We'll need the help of someone in the material world. Preferably with at least a little knowledge of magic otherwise this much power could be..."

"I understand," the implications were clear to them both. Magic was not a child's toy, no matter that Kings and Princes might wish it so. The last time powers had been wielded on this scale the fortress city of Wudenkin had been levelled.

"Good. Let's quickly find some willing help," Moira grasped Kristina's hand again and before their eyes could blink they were once more standing in the ritual chamber.

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

Meditating on the roof, spiritually digging down into the earth and into the magic, Timsen soon realized he had dug a metaphorical hole he couldn't easily get out of without help.

He had closed his eyes in the first few minutes of meditation, as it had felt easier and created less distractions. Within his mind's eye he incrementally began to feel the energies around him, then ignored those too and begun his digging. Diving into the earth searching for the wellspring of hope, searching for a hidden reservoir that he could tap and let forth the natural energies of the world. Perhaps even to encourage and ease the birth of something good into this world.

Hours past, and Timsen knew he was locked into this delve. He could feel the spiritual walls around him, pressing close...and warm...like a blanket or womb. He also knew there were others close by working their own formulas, some of them with great power and knowledge. Timsen felt the presence of Yao Ling, his ally in humanity and leader of his faith, and tried to offer her a brief spurt of hope as well. He focused his will, imagined a concentrated pea-nugget of hope, and spiritually puffed it at her like a child with a spitball. Crude, but hopefully effective. Anything he could to help.

Then Timsen settled back into to digging further down. Going to the core. Going to settle the foundation.

Dancer Rea

Memories

Rising, he moved to the entrance of his tent and stood just inside. Stretching a few times, he savored the feeling of having full use of his back, even if it was just a memory; he wouldn't have a chance to enjoy the feeling for long. It wasn't much of a wait before the Arbiter's men came, the clank of their armor announcing their arrival several seconds before they reached his tent. Dancer slid between the tent flaps, just as the 'escort' crested the hill he had ordered camp on. Yes, he remembered this too. An old friend stood in the center of the escort, the crystal clarity of the memory shedding the years away. By Akkan, they were both so young. The years had not been kind, and Dancer couldn't help but think of how life had turned out for them both. The man shouldered his way through the armored guard, a sick grin plastered on his face.

"Sir Dancer, you are to come with us." a short rope uncoiled from his hand, "If you want to or not."

Dancer couldn't help himself. A corner of his mouth turned upward. He wasn't sure if his glee was from the memory, or just from seeing one of his Brothers, still standing young and strong.

"Why, Erasmus, of course I will come. The Arbiter is not someone to be taken lightly."

As if lead by a spell, Dancer allowed the escort to surround him, and they began to march to down the hill. Not that he had any choice, the memory would continue whether he liked it or not.

They reached the Arbiter's camp quickly, and the escorting soldiers broke off to join the throng growing around the central clearing. At the time, he had felt nothing, but watching it happen again, Dancer felt a little sick. What a young fool he'd been, willingly marching to his own maiming with a smile. Not that he had known what would happen, traditionally a test such as this would never have been so brutal. Erasmus led him to the center of the clearing, near a post of wood sticking from the ground. Tore from what was left of the throne of Caelum, the post had been carried with the Judge of Dominorum for occasions such as this for years by this point. Idly, Dancer wondered what became of it after the war. Hopefully it had been burned.

Arbiter Usul Soul stood waiting, feet slightly apart, hands clasped behind his back. He was in full military judicial dress, sword sheathed at his side, shoulders adorned with his markers of office. Anger danced in his eyes, a fire that had drove his every waking moment, anger at those that harbored Lies in their hearts.

Usul.

Dancer stared at the man, soaking in every second of this part of the dream. Usul had been his closest friend and ally. They'd built cities together, and burned others to the ground. Dancer had no doubt the stones of Ete City still bared the marks of their works, even if heathens had taken it over in the intervening years. Guilt washed over him in a wave. He should have been there, should have saved him. Maybe Usul would still be alive today if Dancer hadn't taken the cowards way out. Maybe more of his Brothers would be here today if he had just been there.

Silence fell, hundreds of soldiers waiting for the Arbiter to speak.

"Sir Dancer!" Usul announced into the silence. His voice filled the area, "I personally accuse you of disobeying orders, moving ahead of the army in favor of personal glory and gain. Greed is an attribute of the Liars of Men!"

His voice rose to a crescendo, the power of their shared faith echoing in every word. "You are to be tested!"

The men broke into cheers, pumping their fists into the air. Dancer allowed it to wash over him, preparing himself for what was coming. While it was only a memory, the clarity of it would make the next part a challenge. Erasmus took his shoulder, and steered him to the post. It wasn't a very old piece of wood, but it had seen much use under the Portal worshipers' care. Binding Dancer to the darkened wood, Erasmus tightened the rope down as far as it would go, before savagely ripping Dancer's shirt down the back. As the rope began to cut into Dancer's wrists, blood oozing slowly around the bindings, Erasmus began.

"Anything to say!?" Erasmus bellowed. The men echoed him, jeering. Most of the men anyway. Dancer's men, intermingled within the crowd, watched quietly amongst the revelers.

Crack!

Pain. In lesser men, it lances through them, hot and angry. It blurs their conscience, mudding their thoughts and reverting them back to their primal instincts. For Dancer, pain was so much more. His mind, once so full of the Lies of Man, had been cleansed through pain. Now, pain brought him into focus, cold and sharp. Dancer smiled, enjoying the clarity of the moment. He'd enjoyed it then, and he enjoyed it now, both his feelings from his memory, and his feelings of watching it again combining as one.

Crack!

Had he acted in Truth? Or had the Lies gotten to him? Only the pain would tell.

Crack!

Dancer could feel it! He had acted in Truth! The pain began to fade, proving he had not acted with Lies in his heart, proving he was worthy. Both the memory Dancer, and the watching Dancer nearly laughed out loud at the revelation. He'd forgotten how simple everything used to be, how clear the way forward could feel.

Crack!...Crack!

The final lash hurt no more than a bee sting. Erasmus approached, freeing him from the post. Confusion clouded the memory, and the world grew fuzzy. This was wrong. Dancer felt himself both being freed, and being lashed farther. This wasn't what had happened. Dancer stood, his back oozing blood all over the dirt, coalescing into little balls of orange mud. Something...something was wrong. He'd been lashed over two hundred times for this mistake, not a mere five. His vision tilted, the two versions of the memory both playing across his dream at once. One, where he was released, joyful and clean of Lies, and the other, still bound to that damnable post. The ground tilted, and darkness swallowed the scene. His stomach turned, and he felt wind in his hair, and blood lifting off his back as he fell through the darkness.

Yao Ling Pryde

Yao Ling felt something different in the magic wash over her from above. There was so much death and conflict and division in the city right now that it seemed she had been alone in trying to push it.

Now she felt another and smiled at the feeling of hope on that wind of magic.

Yao Ling held the twin icons of Daishi and Atlas in each hand as she sought to magnify that projection.

To use some of the stray energy flying around this place to expand that projection of hope beyond this temple complex.

She hoped it would help.

Her mouth twisted into a wry smile at the irony of that thought.

Dancer Rea

Memories

All went silent, as fast as it had started. He found himself standing in the darkness, but not alone. Two dragons grappled in front of him, each twisted tightly around the other. One was blood red, and the other a deep midnight black; he wouldn't have been able to see the black one at all, if it wasn't for the fact they were locked together. The mass of scales and claws shifted, and a single shining eye looked to him, just for a moment. Another shift, and a black snout poked out. Before Dancer could react, the mouth opened, and white fire enveloped him head to toe.......

Suddenly, everything snapped back into focus. Usul and Erasmus stood just as he'd last seen them, the men all around still cheering and whooping happily at the revelation of his cleanliness. Turning to Usul, Dancer straightened out completely, his mind racing. Only five lashes.... Everything had returned to focus, and clarity. Did that mean this was the real memory? And what of the Dragons? The memory continued, unbidden.

Usul had a small smile playing about his face as he called out loud enough to be heard over the racket, "Sir Dancer! You know Truth. You bare no Lies. You have passed the test." The Arbiter turned to look out across the assembly, "I, Usul Soul, Arbiter of Dominorum, Servant of the Portal, hereby retract my accusations of Lies committed by a one Sir Dancer. Praise him, for he hath been proved as a true Brother of the Portal!"

The dream waivered for a moment, and he found himself standing in front of his men, the sun shining high in the sky. He was cleaned, and dressed in fresh clothes, strutting around like the brash young man he had been years ago. His men were in lines, on a flat area a short distance away from their camp. What had happened? He didn't remember this at all. Where was the weeks of healing? The screaming and the blood?

"Men, Today you witnessed something important. You saw me, a man of noble birth, tested for Lies. I passed the test, but that's not important. What's important is that you ask yourselves a question, everyday, no, every second of your life."

Dancer's voice quieted, "Would you have passed?"

A pause, to watch the mens' reaction. Some smiled, others looked away.

He'd been at the healer's tents for weeks, without painkillers, not commanding his men mere hours later. What was this?

He let his voice grow commanding again, capitalizing on the mens' unease. "Are you strong enough to resist the Lies? Are you strong enough to show others the Truth?!" Dancer took a step forward, making eye contact with one of the uncomfortable men in the front row. "There are Lies here, and I will not stand for them."

Dancer shot forward at the unfortunate man, grasping the front of his chainmail. "I think it high time all of you saw the Truth, in it's full glory."

If this was the real memory......

Dancer drug the man forward, out in front, so all could see. Casually tossing the man to the ground, Dancer uncoiled a short leather whip, with several tails. "I spoke to Erasmus, and had him find me a suitable tool for this process." The ends glittered, tipped with metal barbs.

"I think this will be cleansing for everyone."

As he flicked the whip, the sun caught on the barbs, and everything stilled. The sun filled his vision, and he found himself floating up, and up, and up...

Dancer Rea

The Square

Like rising from the bottom of a pond, Dancer woke. He gasped in pain, blinking in the lights off of the pillars trying to get his bearings. His blood traced back, mingling with the rest of the carnage in the center of the square. He hoped it hadn't mingled with the ritual, the magic was already unbalanced enough as it was. Anyte stood over him, Duncan and Jheda as well. For some reason Duncan had Dancer's head in his lap? Idiot child, he'd told him to stay in the shadows. With a shaking hand, Dancer reached back, and touched the thick pad of scar tissue on his back. It was there, just as it had always been, even if it was a little slick with blood right now.

If he hadn't gotten his scars from that day, where had he gotten them?

Kristina Chamberlain

Temple

The feelings of vertigo as she resumed her normality were brief but strong. Standing again before the column she felt heavier with the fatigue of their efforts. It was amazing how dull the world seemed when one had been within the flow, she imagined it may well have been quite addictive to.those who could transcend the physical world independently. Moira too looked tired but resolute.

"Thank-" as she was reorientation she felt a presence, like a cuckoo in her nest. Turning her head left and right, she spied the woman who had beem accosted by the Temple guards. That she was the Lady of the Daishi, was jarring to her, but as a figure from her past, she remembered the woman as wise and powerful. She turned back to Moira. "You see, you have asked and Obeah has provided."

"Lady Pryde, as I live and breathe! It has been far, far too long."

7th October

Summer Day

Monthly Grant Received

Your rank of Musketeer in "Daishi" is due for a monthly grant of 2 gold. Your balance with this religion has been adjusted accordingly. Your balance is now 889 gold.

Avice

The Square

Nova

Playing novan hymns upon her pipe, Avice entered the square at the head of a parade of every animal from between here and Eylmom. Reaching an unoccupied quarter, the animals first circled her, and then began assembling themselves in an animal-pyramid around her, with elephants, hippos, and rhinoceroses forming the base.

Yao Ling Pryde

Temple

"Lady Pryde, as I live and breathe!" one of the frozen women said.

Yao Ling's attention shifted from the guard to them. Both were moving normally again, if stiff from what must have been a long... meditation? Stasis?

"It has been far, far too long," the woman continued.

Yao Ling studied her more closely. There was a resemblance. An echo. Hadrian. Of course. It HAD been far, far too long since they had seen each other. The girl had grown. Changed. Gone on and lived a life in a new land and made a name for herself.

Yao Ling remembered when she had done that. Followed the path to glory and honor and greatness. That had been a very long time ago, though, and she had not changed in a very long time. She was now as she was the last time she saw this girl. Easy to recognize. Hard for her to remember everyone who would. Especially when they kept having the audacity to grow up and become different people between times of meeting.

"Kristina," Yao Ling said with a bow of her head. "It has truly been far too long."

Then she placed a hand on Betty's well-armored shoulder. "This is Betty. My... handmaiden. And guard. And... whatever else I need at the time."

Yao Ling smiled and placed a hand on the wolf standing between them. "I don't know his name. He just showed up and decided to follow us. Or lead us. Maybe guard us. It's difficult to tell sometimes," Yao Ling finished with a shrug.

Then she turned with a searching gaze and frowned. "And there should be another following us, assuming he hasn't lost our path. He called himself a piper, though I'm not entirely certain what that means."

Yao Ling sighed and turned back towards the portal. "I suspect our reasons for being here are different, but I believe we are all here to help you. And we bring gifts," Yao Ling finished with a smile.

Bernard

Daleish Corner

"I recommend we set up here for now and assist the piper," Alice advised.

To which Bernard replied, "I'm no mere piper. I play the bagpipes."

With Alice eagerly conducting rituals, Bernard inquired if this or killing others was what was desired, but seeing she was set on continuing, began playing Irondale hymns upon the bagpipes. He was uncertain how this spotaneous ritualwork would go, such things being quite unpredictable. The abundance of artifacts certainly lent an expectation of success. Shared sentiments of unity helped further.

A lively jig soon followed, around the following chorus:

If you want to have a good time, join the Gardeners!

Join the Gardeners! Join the Gardeners!

If you want to catch the greenthumb, if you want to have fun, if you want to smell sweet flowers, join the Gardeners!

Green thumbs, hey! Green thumbs, ho!

Esdalot

The Square

Thalmarkin

Esdalot arrives alone, fiddling a thalkin tune some recognize as the Ballad of Enzo Solari.

Juggling what appears to be potatoes, a host of northern humanity next enters the square, finds an unoccupied area, and assembles what soon appears to be an oven or an altar, revealing the juggled potatoes as hot rocks.

They are followed by more northerners, and beasts of burden, carrying meats of every animal imaginable between here and Unger. More arrive, carrying firewood. Some meats are laid on top while a fire is built within a niche underneath.

Ceasing the fiddleplay, Esdalot begins to grill the meat, occasionally burning some arcane symbol into each piece of meat.

Maurice

Without any instruction or counsel from any realmmates, Maurice prepares to take his own initiative in serving Ar Agyr.

Luto

The Square

Nothoi

The slow, steady pounding of a drum echoes throughout Keffa. Increasing in sound, it's evidently approaching the square, but from what direction is uncertain. The ground trembles and it's accepted it's not a single drum, but a multitude. Most turn to the shared-columns of light, expecting a development.

Exiting a street onto the square, Luto is beating a drum as he enters the square along with his host of humanity and animals from their trek originating in Dyomoque. Playing a Nothoian spiritual, all animals and humans are stomping in time with the drums. The more astute observer realizes they are dancing in the pattern of arcane symbols.

Duncan Blackstone

Duncan smiled as Dancer regained consciousness as he reached to rub his back.

“Welcome back Master Rea, are you able to stand? we need to get out of here.”

Emilia Delamoire

The Square

Emilia awoke, leaning up against a hard wall and feeling faint. There was a healer near by, her left broken hand and slit wrist were bandaged, and her whole body ached.

She tried moving, but was immediately hit with a wave of dizziness and nausea as she did so, and collapsed back against the wall.

Looking around, she noted that the Blood Regent himself was near, but she couldn't spot the others. She didn't know what was happening in the Square with the Ritual she had put everything into.

"Get me quills and ink, I need messengers." Emilia ordered the Healer, who reluctantly left to find just that.

Emilia would be of no further use to the Ritual, and had put forth every ounce of what she had to give, and now it was in the hands of the Eternal Emperor.

Hopefully, they had given him enough, hopefully he had recognized her contributions.

As the healer returned, she began to unfurl the blank scrolls and writing letters and having them delivered via loyal Vordulian messengers.

Genesis Mcloud

The Square

Nova

Genesis watches as Avice leads the animals, still unsure of how such a thing is possible. Then again, after all she has seen happening over the past few days, she does not know what she can be sure about. Once she thought magic, monsters, undead and the like, all to be tall tales told by uneducated peasants. Now she has seen all of that and more, her sense of self confidence has been dented and damaged as a result.

As a wolf passes by her, following along with the caravan of fur and claws, Genesis reaches out and places a hand on its back, following down its spine and over the tail as it continues to march.

"Avice, I don't know how you have accomplished this, but from the moment I heard your pipe, and saw the animals follow I knew that there was something about you. I knew I had to follow. Now that we have reached our destination, I know I have to see you complete what you mean to accomplish. You have my sword and my protection."

Genesis, strengthened in her resolve, takes her place near Avice, and the circle of animals. She will do whatever is needed to see this done. She has set her mind to it, and once she has done that, nothing can stop her.

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

Unexpectedly, a surge of positive energy washed back over Timsen and renewed his spirit. The spark of hope he had spat out had returned, partially, and amplified by something else. Timsen tucked that bit of hope back into himself, like a child hiding a piece of candy for later. Smiling a little, Timsen re-focused on digging spiritually into the earth and easing the passage of whatever was coming.

Elshon Geg

The Square - Thal

Elshon appears next to Esdalot, cloaked in a black robe embroidered with fine silvery threads forming patterns which are difficult to make out from any distance. He unslings a bloodied sack from his shoulder, the contents of which have soaked through the back of the robes, and begins to hand Esdalot chunks of meat from it for the makeshift grill. "We offer this meat for MODROK, so that he may be sated and so spare us another day to complete our rituals!" Whatever IT was, they'd either welcome it or it would make for another grand sacrifice to appease the horrible elder god.

Summer Evening

Kristina Chamberlain

Temple

She fought back the fatigue, unwilling to show weakness to either woman, as each was deadly in her own way. "I don't know if you will have met, this is Moira Dubh- of Ar Agyr. She offers excellent insight into energy flows, something I have to admit I have seen and admired but never truly understood." She turned to Moira, "I am sure you know of Lady Pryde, by repute if naught else."

The wolf was eyeing her quizzically, then padded to the chamber edge and began licking in earnest at something she truly hoped was not a part of Gustav Kuriga, but strongly suspected it was so.

She had stood in silence, smile fixed for several seconds as her mind whirled through options of how to approach the situation she faced while retaining the appearance of control. Then swiftly abandoned such artifice.

She looked at Yao Ling, holding her gaze. "I could tell you a tale Lady Pryde, spin a line on how we have created this pathway beyond the veil, but you are no fool, and a liar is more a fool to herself. I too am no fool."

She took a breath, "The column... and I call it so deliberately, for it is not a portal, it has moved far beyond such simplicity," she looked to Moira who gently nodded her head in agreement. "It is a construct made up of trapped scroll and ritual magics as well as portal magics. It has become a conduit, pulling all magics cast in the area to its core. The ritual was a summoning, to call forth an atch magus that we may better learn the ways of Obeah, but examination shows that the ritual is incomplete. Within the web of magics there is a flux of changing states awaiting something... perhaps the final piece of the ritual to be cast to allow one form to arise ascendant and come to our call.... but as it waits and absorbs all that is beong hurled there is a danger that the net will fail and who knows what may happen."

"We need to keep control of this situation, to do that we must understand something completely new... well as far as I know... You are probably one of the more experienced people on the island with both magic and portals...I would know your thoughts..."

Vahanian Blint

Vahanian was surrounded by his soldiers, all bristling in anger and ready for a fight. However, none of his personal guard would dare defy the Grand Templar's orders. Not only were they trained not to do that, they had just witnessed him fight in single combat. None were willing to risk his ire.

His battle healer bandaged and treated his wounds. None were serious enough to be debilitating, but that didn't mean they were painless. He grabbed a damp towel from a servant and wiped his face. After his wounds had been tended and he felt as fresh as he was going to until this..event.. was over with. He began walking back towards the middle of the square, and Saoirse. As he walked across the square, he became more aware of the buzz of the people gathered. From within the crowd he heard a familiar voice cry out "Uncle!". His head whipped around looking for the source. He scanned the crowd frantically, searching, it was impossible, yet he was sure he'd heard her voice..

Yao Ling Pryde

Temple

Yao Ling glanced up at the column, studying it with all of her senses. This truly was an amazing work of magical construction, combining two sets of portal stones, and gods only knew how many scrolls and other rituals. It was possibly the most amazing she had ever been this close to. And something very few had ever contemplated. Most who had thought to bring something over from out there were calling Daimons.

But she could tell that Kristina was telling her the truth here. They were not calling Daimons. That didn't mean that Daimons wouldn't be coming through, but at least the intent was there. And in magic, intent was extremely important.

"Who initiated the ritual?" Yao Ling asked Kristina. "You are her? Did you find or develop the ritual? And was it completed to the best of your knowledge, or did you leave steps out of it?"

Open Dreams

You are walking alone across an open field under a blue sky, without a tree or building in sight.

Awakening well-rested and feeling hopeful for a brighter future, you conduct the day's business with a spring in your step.

Phelan Dragonborn

The square

Phelan had found shelter in a barn belonging to a sweet couple just outside town. The battles and constant plotting made his head hurt.

Something else was plaguing him now, however, these dreams! One night dark and foreboding the next night bright and hopeful. He didn't know what to make of them. His emperor was busy with keeping the peace as much as possible, the only other person he knew well and trusted was back in the Vales. A thought occurred to him, what of the beautiful woman; Yao Ling, would she be able to tell him what they meant?

Phelan spruced up his well worn clothes and gathered his pack. Someone might have need of the things he had collected. He headed for the square and the temple where he had last seen the beautiful Yao Ling.

As he neared the square, a wonderous black wolf approached him. It was not menacing as the wolves he encountered in the wild were. This one looked intelligent and kind, it seemed to want Phelan to follow him.

Soon he was standing outside a different temple, watching Yao Ling with another priestess, from the Heralds perhaps?

He waited patiently to speak to them not willing to interrupt, he was just a common man after all.

Moira

Temple

Moira bowed respectfully to the High Shugenja, "I am Moira your grace, a Musketeer. No other name or honour matters," She stood slightly to one side, supporting Kristina here and there with a slight nod of the head as the Priestess of Obeah explained the situation. She was impressed at the younger woman's ability to grasp the essential details given how quickly they'd been explained.

As a member of the Daishi order Moira knew the High Shugenja by reputation but aside from the occasional pleasantry during her promotion through the ranks she doubted she'd ever figured in Lady Yao Ling's thoughts. To live the life of a rootless adventurer was to be largely invisible to the ruling classes, serving in the shadows where the ambitions and moral ambiguities of court life had little bearing. Moira's younger self - the brash commander who'd forced her way to the front of Fontanese life at a time when that realm was the mightiest power the world would ever know - would have sneered at the life she now lived. Well, perhaps not sneered, but certainly she'd have considered it a poor use of talent.

Close to twelve Gregorian Years had passed since she'd first pitched up at the gates of Krimml, caparisoned in her then trademark black plate armour with five stalwart armsmen and a hunger for life: liberty; democracy; honour; duty; justice. Her mind had raced with new ideas, and oh how her quill had danced, the blade of a master eviscerating her intellectual foes with the same effortless devastation for which her long-hafted ax soon became famed. Sadly Fontan had proven a poor mistress during their long love affair, her rulers ever willing to prostitute their virtue for dreams of conquest. Fontan had been her one true love - even more so than dear Aeneas with whom she'd shared a night of passion, a single moment of tenderness in a long life of conflict - and when it broke her heart she knew no consolation...

Still, the truth was this life suited her, free to travel where she pleased and to deliver that uncommon justice which no Queen nor Supreme Justice was at liberty to mete for all the armies at their command. And here in Beluaterra she'd finally found a cause with no ambiguities. The defence of humanity.

"The Priestess speaks truly your grace," Moira picked up where Kristina finished, "this ritual the Obeah have embarked upon marries knowledge from several distinct traditions, the like of which have never been combined before. In essence they've created a cistern for holding magical energies with which to direct a portal according to their will, but the cistern has a finite capacity which is now being exceeded thanks to all the magic unleashed here in Keffa. And to compound the problem this magic is strongly tainted with Vordul rituals, a none to wholesome addition. If the cistern fails and all this energy pours into the fabric of the Higher Dimensions it could have devastating consequences."

She paused for a moment to allow Lady Pryde to fully digest her words.

"I set the second portal ring which was intended to prevent the portal here from opening, a trick I learned during the last Invasion, but I did not realise that the portal was being used for a very different purpose and not as a gateway to access the Netherworld. As a consequence we now have two portal beacons, for want of a better term, which are attempting to counteract each other but cannot because of the energy now contained in the cistern. And all the time more energy is being sucked into the cistern from Keffa. If we can divert that energy flow back here into the mortal realm we may be able to bring the situation back under control and allow the ritual to be concluded safely but to do that we need someone with the resolve and experience to channel so much power to a good purpose."

The implication was obvious: they needed Yao Ling's help or the destruction of Keffa might be the least of their worries.

Yao Ling Pryde

Temple

Yao Ling listened to the explanation with care. It was interesting and each step made sense.

But she thought Moira was wrong in her final point.

"There is a common refrain I've heard since before I entered this city," she said, her eyes glancing back and forth between Kristina and Moira to gauge their reactions. "It is coming. Rituals can welcome it. Or we can kill those performing the rituals. But it will take multiple people to complete them."

Yao Ling spread her arms out as if that made things clear. "Not one of us can do this. We all bring different knowledge and experience. Only together can we do this. And I posit that we need more than just us."

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

As dawn broke over the temple roof, Timsen felt both the warmth of the sun on his face and the inner warmth and comfort from the dream of hope. The dream had merged with his trance-state, morphing his mental digging metaphor into the open field. Timsen felt calm and rested, even as his physical body endured a second day of no water or food. With a renewed spirit on a new day, Timsen concentrated again on his efforts to ease the energies in the city and soothe the coming of something good.

8th October

Summer Day

Alice Schwarzherzig

The Daleish Corner

Alice conferred with a guard, and spoke.

"Bring the prisoners." She commanded. Her guards brought a single man, Selur, before Bernard and forced him to his knees. The man bore signs of having been tortured, and a device kept his mouth open.

"Where is the second?" Alice demanded.

"Y-y-your Grace... H-h-he escaped." The man stammered.

Alice nodded, and the Morgul Guard stepped forward, and shoved the man to the ground. He was shackled, and a similar device place around his face to keep his mouth open.

Alice looked at Bernard.

"I commend these damned souls to you and the song. Let their lives fuel our ritual." Alice spoke.

She turned to Selur and the guard.

"You have comitted crimes against the Arcane Republic of Irondale, and I sentence you both to die. Know that though your lives are forfeit, they serve a higher purpose. In death may you achieve redemption."

A crucible was wheeled out, full of molten iron. Funnels were placed in the condemned's mouths, and one by one, molten iron poured down the prisoners throats. The men half gurgled, half screamed, briefly, then shuddered, and fell limp. The adventurer Selur was dead, and so was the guard who allowed the adventurer Xenith to escape.

"Bury the bodies. They have paid for their crimes." Alice spoke, looking at the men, their vacant eyes wide open in a mixture of terror and agony.

Betty

Temple

The wolf padded over to Betty, licking his lips satisfactorily. He stopped to look up at her and waited until she pulled her attention from the others in the room.

Then the wolf turned and walked out of the room. He stopped at the entrance and looked at her.

Betty shrugged and followed the wolf out, up the stairs, and to the western gate they had used to enter the temple in the first place.

By the time she reached the gate, the wolf was nuzzling up against a black wolf of similar size.

Well, now she knew why the wolf had come up here. Though why it had asked her to follow made no sense.

Then she saw the man standing beyond the two wolves and smiled. Now she understood that as well.

"You!" she said to Phelan. "I see you found us. Would you like to come in?"

Rosko Nabarl

The Square

Rosko moved his infantry to surround Esdalot and his fire in their corner of the square. “We’ll not let anyone through that we don’t know” he says as he hands across some papers.

Eriol Blackdagger

The Temple

As the Blood Regent looks on at the various comings and goings, he stops and looks towards the Temple dome. "These people are fools." Eriol says with disdain. Turning to his captain he continues, "These egocentric imbeciles would struggle with each other for attention, duel in the streets, and fluff their feathers to show how important they are. I hope Daemons do come out and obliterate them all. Im sure they would appreciate sharpening their fangs on the bones of these "important people". I'll ignore these portents no longer. We go to strengthen our borders."

Scribbling a note, the Blood Regent hands it to one of his men, "See this gets to the newly elected Seneschal. Find His Eminence. He will be in command until the ritual is complete."

Mounting his horse with what he hoped was, a small piece of his friend Lord Gustav in a small reliquary, Eriol and his Regnal contingent make for the edge of the city.

Moira

Temple

"Aye, that is likely your eminence," Moira considered the irony of the situation. Her mission was to prevent a portal opening to the Daimon realm, the High Shugenja had devoted her whole life to fighting the Daimons, and Kristina sought aid in the High Firmament to essentially open a second front against the Daimons - though it was doubtful the Priestess understood her ritual in quite those terms... if ever there were three less likely agents to conclude a portal ritual she could not think of them.

And what was it the Jarboshi kept saying? Three must survive to perform the ritual and welcome It? Was the It the messenger Kristina was seeking to contact? That seemed damn unlikely given the provenance of that wicked brood. Were they the three? Or could they conclude the ritual and deny the three their triumph?

Were they indeed being played by forces beyond their control? Or were they serving the Hand's purpose? She supposed only time would tell.

"Lady Kristina and I will need to reenter the Flow to do our part so we will need a connection here in the mortal realm," her eye alighted on the guardsman still holding her weapons, somewhat bemused by what was happening around him, "and I think I know the perfect locus."

The sapphire eyes of Lannceann MacTiré sparkled in the light of the twin beacons, his wolf's head maw slavering in anticipation. There were many blades in the world borne for their prestige or their reputed prowess and Moira had borne many herself in the name of one noble or another, trading gold and oddments for their repair, her legend lending glory to theirs. But Lannceann MacTiré knew no other mistress. Heirs two had he in his own likeness, long since parted from him, and where the three passed so there Moira passed also, as bound to the blades as the blades were to her.

"This is Lannceann MacTiré, the glory of my youth and the strength of my enduring years," as she gestured towards the blade it seemed to shudder in its sheath, leaping forth effortlessly at her merest touch, "and where he resides so too always will you find a part of me." She presented the hilt to Lady Pryde.

This was old magic, familiar and yet easily scorned by the traders in scrolls and potions. A reminder of man's youth when the High Firmament had been as much his home as this fallen, closed off, bounded world.

Summer Evening

Yao Ling Pryde

Temple

Yao Ling examined the sword for several seconds, turning her head back and forth to see how the magic flowed around and through it.

She had seen a weapon similar to it long ago. Wielded by her cousin, a sword with a hilt in the shape of a dragon's head and a blade of fire.

A weapon of power, increasingly rare in these latter days when magic itself was failing.

They could be... temperamental... especially when someone they did not like attempted to wield them.

"Hello, Lannceann MacTiré," Yao Ling said, attempting to mimic Moira's strange words as close as possible. It would never do to insult a weapon by getting its name too wrong, after all. "I do hope you don't intend to bite me."

Bright Dreams

You wake up, blinded by the intensely bright sunlight of the day, trying to clear your eyes.

Just as your eyes adjust, you wake up again, realizing you have dreamt of awakening to the sunlight.

Moira

The Temple

"It seems wolves have an affinity for you Lady Pryde," the blade nestled comfortably in the High Shugenja's hands, "His bite is yours to command until we return."

Moira turned to Kristina, "Is there anything you need to bring into the Flow to complete the ritual?"

Yao Ling Pryde

The Temple

Yao Ling held the blade in her hand, turning it from side to side to examine it.

Then she heard Moira's question and looked back up.

"We have brought numerous scrolls with us, including a great many designed specifically to combat Daimon magics. They could be of some use to you if you wish them."

Dancer Rea

The Square

Idiot child. Dancer held his tongue, however. That idiot child was the one that pulled him to safety, after all.

"We are not leaving, Duncan." Dancer's eyes flicked to Anyte, and his voice softened. "Princess, we need to stop the bloodletting. Blood magic is and always has been the domain of the Lords, and having this much in one place, with two active Pillars, will destabilize the veil farther." Seeing confusion in several eyes, Dancer sighed. "It's not time yet." He stopped explaining, looking at Jheda, as well as the Rahien Sorei surrounding the group.

"We have two choices. We can try to stop the bloodletting, or we can try to finish.....whatever is happening here before those ignorant children destabilize the Veil farther."

Duncan Blackstone

The Square

Duncan helped Dancer onto his feet with a smile “Alright then Master, we aren’t leaving then.”

Duncan listened to Dancer and looked confused when Dancer spoke “S-stop the Lord’s entry, but this could be it Lord, this could be the push we need to bring them back.”

Duncan let Dancer explain and he nodded looking sad “Yes lord you are right, it’s too soon.”

Duncan’s gaze followed to Jheda and his men, Duncan turned his attention back to Dancer “Whatever we are doing, I am staying with you Lord, you are wounded, I would be a terrible servant if I left you now.”

Duncan was suddenly pulled back and tossed onto the stones.

Emilia Delamoire

The Square

Emilia was leaning against the wall, her small diminutive frame easy to miss, and the loss of blood taking away most of her angst. Duncan and Dancer walked close by, and she looked up with tired forest green eyes, addressing Dancer.

"Oh hello there Papa Bear..." she cracked a half smile.

"I did warn you to come up with a safe word... looks like the priest beater got the best of you back there."

The small woman sighed, looking toward the square, still littered with corpses but most of the people distracted on other affairs as the flies began to swarm on the open wounds that began to fester.

Valian Stone Daubeny

The Square

Valian stood shakily, he wiped the blood from his nose and looked, he saw Duncan, just taking with someone, like he didn’t just fight Valian.

Valian stormed over to Duncan and pulled him by the back of his collar, tossing him to the stone floor.

A few of his men ran over from their main group and joined him as Valian levelled his mace at Duncan “Duncan Blackstone Daubeny, you are charged with crimes against Obia’Syela and her people as well as heinous crimes against the Daubeny Family.”

Valian gritted his teeth and spat blood to the side of Duncan “You are accused of murder, heresy, kin slaying, arson, thievery, destruction of Obian Property, striking members of the clergy and above all Daimon worship, you are guilty of atleast five of these crimes by my own account and your sentence is death.”

Valian raised his mace high and Duncan looked genuinely afraid.

Emilia Delamoire

The Square

As Valian accused Duncan, Emilia listened and then barked out a wisp of laughter.

"Almost sounds Vordulian." she chided.

She breathed deeply, shuddering in exhale and watched. Imagining Papa Bear would now have to intervene and her fun was once again ruined by Obian filth.

Polli

The Square

Just After Saoirse's Charge (partial collaboration with Sackwell)

Polli had succumbed to her wounds, falling unconscious in a heap of bodies. Nobility had been arriving and engaging in smaller spats as Saoirse and Eriol conversed at impasse after Emilia had broken free of Saoirse. An astonished man was wandering the square asking people if they had seen the elephant while fowl squaked judgementally.

Almost simultaneously, Emilia poured the vial of Eriol's blood into Godfrey's goblet as a shout went out from the center of Vordul's ritual circle. Eriol's blood, the blood of Xlair's Blood Disciples, was a potent offering.

'Blood for the Blood God!' proclaimed Sackwell, getting everyone's attention, as he lay down in the middle of the ritual diagram.

'My life for the Blood God!' were the final words screamed at the top of his lungs, just before he unsheathed a small dagger and sliced his neck open without hesitation. His death wouldn't be as quick as it's cause, however; a macabre scene of Sackwell's gruesome final moments followed. An entire life was more potent an offering.

And then Emilia joined Sackwell in offering her lifeblood, but slicing her wrist rather than neck, slumping to the ground.

In the midst of the Blood Disciple's bloodvial being poured out, Sackwell's death, and Emilia's near death, Polli's movement wasn't immediately noticed, but her grievous wound found itself not so grievous after all, as she stirred back into consciousness.

Vordul's ritual had hung in the balance, vulnerable, but now it seemed to be gaining security once more, with the recent bloodofferings.

Kristina Chamberlain

The Temple

"I thought that the ritual was complete."

"Moira, everything is conjecture, we have put together ritals and magics in a way that... well I cannot know for sure, but I am not aware of anyone doing before." She looked around the ritual chamber, accolytes dropped their heads at her gaze, immediately finding something to occupy them other than the conversation between the three women.

"Seeing the flow as you showed it, I think perhaps we can stabilise it, channel some of the negative energies out through the other portal, but then I question what that achieves? The magic being thrown here is enough to have set the World sideways... the conduit has an immense capacity to absorb... what if we are sending raw magic through an active portal that it may devastate somewhere beyond our physical reach."

She turned her attention to Yao Ling, "You asked about the initial premise of the ritual. The Grand Mistress dreamed of the confluence of magics, scroll and portal, to select attributes from the runesnof the scrolls to summon an atch magus, there were no books to follow... At the outset, it became apparent that magics from scrolls have their own intent, they are constructs for a purpose.... I had to act quickly or Keffa would have been overrun by our own hand."

"In my past, I had been educated in the rituals of Dagda, the nine houses.... well eight and... I digress, I stopped the runes from unravelling, kept them captive until the portal held them. It was a stable column for many days. Ironically, it began to summon the earthbound to it. Something will come from it, I just wonder with all the additional energies it is now calling into itself just what."

"We all have heard the tales of these pipers, soothsayers, prohpets, call them what you will. I have asked repeatedly that the three known as Viviene, Avice and Dolores be brought here in hopes of closing the circle so to speak... I dont know what occurs outside, but it seems that brining them here is causing far more trouble than one would imagine." She was pacing again, the energies she was holding making it difficult to remain still for long. "It is unlikely we three are the cusp of finishing the ritual. But we need to give the pipers time to get here without something less controlled, breaking free of the net, without simply causing issue elsewhere."

She looked at the blade in Yao Lings grasp, looking at Moira she raised a brow. "Are you suggesting we move some of the magic and, i don't know... earth it through the blade.... is that even possible Yao Ling? Or do I misunderstand this entirely?"

Yao Ling Pryde

The Temple

Yao Ling let out a long breath as she considered Kristina's words.

"I have learned to never underestimate what magic is capable of," she finally said and looked at the portal again.

Then she laughed.

"You winged it. Absolutely amazing."

Kristina Chamberlain

Temple

"It was a... creative endeavour." She smiled ruefully at Yao Ling. "Perhaps more creative thinking will see this to right.... especially given that nobody in the square seems to be doing a damned thing about the Vordulists. 7000 faithful and barely a stone thrown.... amazing."

Dreams of Trash

You are wandering a trash heap, amongst the scavenging rag 'n bone beggars, as the sun is setting, casting orange across the sky.

Awakening quite tired, you feel miserly in all your dealings for the day.

Moira

Temple

"That indeed is what I'm considering," Moira's eyes were far off, lost momentarily in her own private thoughts. She was decidedly not the Dubhaine they needed... but sadly she was the one they'd have to make do with.

"Sorry... I mean, yes. Lady Kristina is right, we can't loose the magic into either portal. At best doing so would attract creatures from the High Firmament, at worst..." she lowered her voice so only the three of them could hear, "At worst we could establish what the Balancewalkers call a dark communion, which is to say a region of... let's say space and time to keep it simple though that really doesn't capture the subtleties of the Higher Realms. A region of space and time cut off entirely from the Balance would cease to flow at all, all that energy dissolving the boundaries between realities. It would be as if the Veil were inverted, drawing together that which it currently holds apart."

Brigdha would definitely have described that better. Elegantly. That was the difference between an adept and a Balancewalker, between a smith and a poet. Still, Moira knew enough to do the practical work needed and if necessary to improvise whatever Kristina needed when they reentered the Flow.

"High Shugenja, an unimaginable amount of power is going to be channeled to you and it will be tainted by the Vordul rituals. It will want to flow back into those rituals. Find it a better purpose."

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

As the third day dawned for Timsen on the roof of the temple, he barely registered the sun on his cheeks. He was deep, perhaps too deep, into his meditative trance trying to ease and channel the flow of power in the city to bring something (good, he pleads to himself) into the world. He had not stopped to sleep, drink or eat, and the toll was beginning to show more in his face.

Timsen's captain and his Slingers kept watch from down below, as far as they could come before the temple guards held them back, and they were worried. Too much chaos in this city for their comfort, and their leader exposed and vulnerable. Sure, some of them were scattered across roofs on the regular buildings, keeping watch from a distance, but that didn't ease much anxiety. They grumbled, they kept watch, they waited.

As the Vordulism ritual gained power again, Timsen could feel a shift in the flow of magic. The fresh influx of blood magic, and with enough amounts to probably mean a human sacrifice, could bode poorly for the whole ritual. Timsen was momentarily in doubt about whether to continue his trance, then quickly realized he had no choice. Even if he wanted, he could not pull back now. He was tied into the trance and to the entire ritual as a whole. His decision being made for him, Timsen spiritually smirked in good humour and continued his intention of easing the passage of whatever was coming. Even if was something tied to the blood magic, Timsen may still be able to ease its passing, and so perhaps save Keffa upon its arrival or least ease the consequences of its coming.

Find the good in the bad, as it were, and amplify it. Timsen could live, and die, for that.

Yao Ling Pryde

Temple

"I actually mean it," Yao Ling said. "Amazing. I saw the aftermath of the last time someone used magic on this scale in Keffa."

Yao Ling stamped her feet on the hard stone beneath them. "I think this is the base of the crater that was left behind when it blew a hole in... well... reality."

"So... the fact that this temple is still standing. Really... really amazing."

---

Yao Ling gave Moira a wry smile. "Finding a purpose is one thing I have always been good at."

Then she turned back to Kristina. "Though I do hope your god is not offended if I call on gods I'm a bit more familiar with while doing so."

She ruefully raised the icons of Daishi and Atlas in her hands. "I can assure you that no disrespect is meant by that."

10th October

Summer Day

Betty

Temple

Betty returned in time to hear the end of of the conversation about magic and power. She glanced towards the column of light and nodded in acceptance.

Then she began popping straps and taking her armor off. It was an amazing set of armor. Really the best she'd ever worn by a long shot. Possibly the best she'd ever touched. Armor fit for a true noble.

Once she had stripped down to her leathers, she stepped forward and hung the first piece onto her mistress.

"Wait," Yao Ling said in surprise and turned a questioning head her way. "What?"

"Hush," Betty said in a quelling tone. "You're going to need this a lot more than me if you're going to do all that."

Yao Ling pursed her lips, and nodded in acceptance.

Betty smiled began strapping each piece of armor onto her mistress. She smiled at the other two women as she did so.

"I can't tell you where I found this. But it was in bad shape when it came into my possession. I spent a lot of time with a lot of sages to get it fixed up. Yao Ling told me to wear it when we left the temple because she wanted me to be better protected from all the chaos out there." Betty shook her head. "It's as comfortable as it is pretty, let me tell you. Those sages knew what they were doing."

She locked the last straps in place and stepped away from the priest now wearing a glittering suit of metal armor.

Betty smiled and waved a hand at her mistress as she gazed at the other two women. "I present to you, the best suit of armor I have ever worn. The Armour of Righteousness. May it live up to its name today."

Godfrey Greybrook

Witnessing the death around him, the pain in his now absent ear became nullified as the sheer magical concentration was sending him from one trance to the next.

Why would the Emperor which this? There was so much magic here yet with each ritual disturbance and success, the end was not in sight.

Yet, what Godfrey did notice was the sheer amount of blood that he had shed for both the ritual and from his ear. He knew that he was treading a fine line between success and failure. Yet it must be done, and be done soon.

Hence, Godfrey for one last time allowed the blood to trickle into the Goblet, praying to the Eternal Emperor for one final guidance on this day so that he can carry out his word.

Summer Evening

Moira

Temple

"Then let's to our business," Moira clasped hands with Kristina, this time taking the time to synchronise her heart-being with that of the Obeah Priestess, smoothing her translation into the higher dimensions. To the others in the Temple chamber it seemed as if the two women became glass vessels, solid to the touch and yet translucent and lustrous and... empty.

For the Priestess the transition was much less jarring than their first journey, and finding herself with her feet firmly on the Path of Conviction she was surprised to find her perception of the abstract realm of the Flow merging with her astral sight as if the latter was overlaid but not quite the way she would have expected. She looked quizzically at Moira who shrugged her black pauldrons and smiled. The adventuress was clad in a suit of burnished black plate armour of a now archaic style, the unsheathed mirror of Lannceann MacTiré in her hand. There was a tragic nobility to the image. A remembrance beyond time of a lost order of chivalry. A lion in winter.

"Astral space exists closer to the mortal realms," the adventuress said by way of explanation, "and the dimensionality is... stretched here in the Flow. In general I recommend not using the sight here if you want to keep your lunch where it belongs but on this occasion it will be easier for us both if we can see what we're about."

She wasn't joking. Moira took in the spectacular ghostly spires of Keffa's astral bastions, casements and buttresses limned with cascades of maroon balefire and intermittent flashes of brighter hues, their angles strangely extruded as if the city were projected on the surface of a water droplet. Despite its size she had the distinct impression it would fit snuggly in the palm of her hand and even as a frequent visitor to the Flow she found the juxtaposition discomforting.

The blade in her hand howled softly and an answer echoed from the city beneath?... above?... from the city. Howls turned to whines as the blade recognised itself across the veil and the link essential to their plan was established.

Aibhlidhn Dubhaine

Square

The Queen of Ar Agyr's horse sauntered towards the Eastern Gate at the head of a column of Royal Fusileers, its rider dressed in the same practical wargear of plate pieces and leather, sword and bow. She'd been camped in the woods of Zwering for several days, close by to the city to lend aid if calamity struck and eager for news that Maurice had been located. None had come, not even after Lord Paridithous rode ahead, and her natural impatience had finally got the better of her. No progeny of Jarbosh had any business claiming to be Agyrian nobility and she'd settle this matter personally.

Captain Caedberga rode at her right hand, a veteran of the Invasion who'd personally slain daimons with blade and shaft. Caedberga lacked her Queen's charm but her loyalty and courage were legendary.

The Queen's squire Aelwyn rode at her rear, the banner of Ar Agyr proudly anchored in his stirrup and trailing behind him in the gentle summer breeze. He was a youngish man, though blooded in battle more times than his unscarred features would suggest.

Reia, Royal Equerry and former Paladin of Darton, rode at the Queen's left hand, unarmed and dressed in a sombre cloak over her court finery, grey braids barely visible beneath her hood. It was rare for the Equerry to be seen in public this way, her duties usually requiring more discretion.

The Queen raised her right hand as her left twitched her reins and brought her horse to a gentle halt. The column of fusileers followed suit, with minimal fuss deploying into three ranks just beyond the range of the walls. The walls however were not beyond the range of the fusileers, and with the strange light emanating from the city centre there'd be little hope of concealment for defenders with ill intent.

"Make the necessary announcements Aelwyn," Aibhlidhn studied the gate, wondering why the defences were so silent. Had evil already befallen and what lay before them was the corpse of a city?

Aelwyn thrust the haft of the standard into the rich Keffan soil and spurred his horse forward, advancing to within twenty yards of the gate. The bastions were deserted. He rode onwards into the eerily quiet streets beyond, long shadows stretching in the evening sunlight, continuing on until he heard the unmistakable sounds of armed men clashing in the direction of the central plaza. He swiftly returned with his report.

The riders conferred without dismounting. Caedberga - practical as ever - cautioned against entering until sunrise and urged the Queen to call up reinforcements from the camp in Zwering, by contrast Reia argued that if fighting was already underway then time was very much of the essence.

Aibhlidhn weighed the options. Entering a city blind was never a wise idea. But then again... there was too much at stake not to take action.

"The Obeah may not be our friends, but neither are they our enemies," she dismounted, drawing her fusil from its saddle holster, "We'll move house-to-house and see what's afoot."

Luto

The Square

Nothoi

Luto, having left the temple with Yao Ling, had initiated the ritual with much dancing. But when a messenger arrived for Luto, the drumming stopped and the dancing continued quietly. Nothoi's ritual stood vulnerable as Luto departed to meet Yao Ling at the other temple.

Maurice

The Square

Ar Agyr

Maurice had considered the Others and chosen. Searching for Luto in the Square as Maurice played his lute, he found and, singing, challenged Luto to a duel to the death. Luto accepted, stopping to send a messenger to Yao Ling and any other Nothoians present.

Kristina Chamberlain

Temple

She looked at the relics preferred by Yao Ling, one day her wisdom would allow her to understand the the faces of the Goddess were many, but the nature was truly just one. She made no comment, this was neither the time.... though perhaps most definitely the place.

"We need to cleanse the column, try and remove the taints of the more questionable magiks being hurled. Hopefully this will help the ritual resolve.... favourably."

Everything was in flux and she was a spent force exhausted beyond any normal measure, but she and her comrades were all she had. An adventurer whom she barely knew and a high priestess whom in any other circumstance would be a rival. And here she must trust them, body soul and mind.

"I used to be better at this," she sighed, "changing primal magic into something, I could have grown a tree or raised a rock or two... now, I can make a flame, but I fear that releasing the magics as fire would be a veritable inferno. worse still if I am.trying yo denature ritual magics... do you believe you can deal with the volumes I may be throwing your way Lady Pryde?"

Regardless of the answer she had no choice. She took Moira by the hand: "If you are both sure?"

Rituals

Most realms had by now made their decisions.

The Obian ritual symbols glowed the brightest, while those of Vordul , and the Sanguinis, Irondale, Shattered Vales glowed just a little less than the Obian ritual. Thalmarkins ritual glowed a little less than theirs, Nova a bit less than that, and Nothoi's was then dimmest of all the ritual symbols.

Still Dreams

You look up to an endless white sky. The air hangs still and not a sound or movement is made, an eerie, chilling sensation.

You awaken with a fright, realizing it was but a dream. But the deep feeling of emptiness does not depart, plaguing you emotionally.

Yao Ling Pryde

Temple

"I believe I can," Yao Ling said with a smile.

Then she looked for some place to put her icons. She found just the right places, and slipped the icons of Daishi and Atlas into perfect little slits in her armor.

It really WAS nice armor.

It had pockets.

Esdalot

The Square - Thalmarkin

Esdalot eagerly received Elshon's bloody meat gift and began adding them to the grill-altar to Mordok.

Surrounded by Rosko's men, the ritual felt secure. And tasty, with the smells wafting across the square of an inestimable variety of meats being grilled.

11th October

Summer Day

Duel

Luto meets his challenger Maurice for the agreed duel till death.

Maurice has decided to use the 'aggressive' strategy while Luto has chosen the 'defensive' strategy, giving Luto the advantage.

The duel goes as planned, then badly for Maurice. He suffers several slight wounds, then a final, fatal blow. The healers hurry, but they are too late.

Saoirse MacArbin

The Square

Saoirse turned as Eriol left. There might still be trouble there, but she had more immediate issues. She issued orders to the various troops in the area to see to the complete destruction of any Vordulian ritual implements or symbols still left in the area. The various captains in the area began working, and servants were summoned from the nearby palace to begin removing the bodies for proper cremation, and scrubbing the street. Soldiers found Godfrey and Polli amongst the mess, and both were seized while soldiers began escorting them out of the square toward the Vordulian encampment on the edge of the city.

Saoirse sighed in relief seeing the square clear of the blood ritual. While Godfrey and Polli might well have taken something small with them, the goblet that had been the main focus of their ritual was carefully carried away from the temple to be ritually washed away in the canal, and the whole area was being washed and consecrated by various underpriests from the temple. There might well be more conflict, but at least it would be more straightforward.

While this was all being organized, Tayla came up with and filled her in on the various correspondence and matters she had missed...Including the fact that a Mordok Priest was grilling what was likely people for the Thalmarkin "Other", and the fact that Rulers and dignitaries from half the continent were waiting.

She sent word to the rest of the realm, someone else would need to attend to the Mordokian, and she turned to announce, and have Tayla send messages, that those interested in a civil event would be welcome to join her in the palace. Hopefully she could keep a lid on matters while Kristina and Yxevarii and the rest were able to see to the ritual proper...

Luto

The Square

Nothoi-Ar Agyr Death Duel

Maurice charges aggressively, pushing Luto around and controlling the duel's tempo. Yet Luto lands several key cuts, though none major enough to stop Maurice. Around and around they fight, slight injuries not slowing Maurice's advances. Bloodied, but relentless both seem possessed of a particular desire to fight to the death without any mercy shown to the seriously injured.

And then, after raging bloody, it ends in a moment as Luto finally achieves a major wound to the inner thigh during one of Maurice's advances. Maurice dies in a painful, bloody, but relatively quick death. Luto hurries onward to meet Yao Ling.

Avice

The Square

Nova

Avice nods to Genesis Mcloud, "We have much work to do. Your protection is highly valued."

Avice continued playing a tune for a time.

Then, turning to Genesis again, "Would you join me in supplication to Obeah for It to come to Nova?"

Dancer Rea

"Stop him"

Despite the injury, Dancer's command rang across the assembled troops, the tone of a Duke that is used to being listened to. Jheda's men moved quickly, stopping the new noble in their tracks, and surrounding the arms men that came with him. From his position on the ground, blood still leaking from his back injury, Dancer growled at the newcomer.

"I don't even care who you are, leave now. That's my property you are threatening." Dancer turned his head to Jheda's men. "Get him out of here, and make a better shield wall. I'm sure the Margrave of our biggest city pays you better then letting some child burst though your 'protection.' "

The men were quick on their feet at least....word about the Executioner Duke had spread far. The child from OS was quickly expelled from the small group in the center of the small army Jheda had brought with him, and a healer was brought forward to tend to Dancer's wounds. Rolled onto his stomach as the healer worked, Dancer watched one of the Vordul children from between the feet of the new and improved wall of arms men, her stare unwavering from the group, her lips moving every so often. Dancer had never learned to read lips, but he was sure it was some prayer to their fallen child-king.

Several minutes passed, the slight sting of the needle sewing his flesh back together marking the progress of the healer. Finally, Dancer was able to stand up, very gingerly, and chewing some ikrif like cud. Duncan hurried over, and let Dancer lean on him for support, and closely dogged his footsteps. The Duke looked at his charge, a slight glint of....was it humor? in his eye.

"I'm not going to ask, Duncan. Come, we have to speak to the Grandmistress. I want you with me in case I need a hand to stay upright, Vahanian may not have cut too deep, but it is enough."

Dancer looked to Jheda, and Anyte.

"Stay behind the men, Princess. Margrave, as you were."

With that, Dancer made his way out of the men once again, this time with Duncan in tow to assist. He had to stop this bloodletting.......

After only a few dozen feet, he felt it. A targeted magical attack on his person. He gasped, trying to throw the magic off, but unlike the calming spell, this was targeted at him, and only him. Nearly tripping due to the sudden nausea, Dancer came to a halt. Sweat began to roll down his forehead and he could feel the pull of the spell, telling, no, commanding him to drop. He clapped a hand on Duncan's shoulder, his fingers digging into the younger man's flesh.

"We need to get back to the men, now."

Polli

The Square

Vordul Sanguinis

Polli is attempting to redraw the earlier scuffed out symbols, when she screams out in pain. The snap of bones breaking. More screaming. Polli's skin is ripped apart as bones are exposed. Successful magic has wounded Polli, yet again rendering the ritualwork vulnerable.

Godfrey makes another offering, holding the ritual energy just barely, his sixth sense tingling.

And yet Obian troops hold the square around Polli and Godfrey. The destruction of arcane symbols break the ritual, releasing the energy. The area still hums with Vordulian hymns as the released ritual-energy lingers, gradually dissipating, the glow fading from symbols the more they're washed away.

Wounded, Polli is unable to resist Saoirse's soldiers' escort, awakening healed outside the city walls.

Viviane

Outside the Temple Square

Viviane's Assassination and Healing

Viviane was entirely surprised, but instinctively pulled a dagger out, and deflected some blows, yet not nearly enough. It only took one deep stab to her side and she felt blackness approaching. Then slumped to the ground as the stranger-assassin made their escape.

The portal stones set by Serena had flickered in their glow when Viviane was stabbed in the street. Upon her healing, they had resumed their steady glow.

Awakening with the healers some time later, Viviane looked around groggily, asking where Sir Snuggles was and why there were so many worms flying around. Then fell back asleep.

The next she awoke, Viviane recognized Elizabeth sitting nearby. Still groggy, "Who stabbed me?"

Valian Stone Daubeny

Outside the Temple Square

Elizabeth looked happy when Viviane spoke, she rushed over to the Lady’s side and held out a small flask. “It’s wine, Captain Tomasa said to give it to you when you woke up”

Elizabeth thought for a moment “I don’t know Lady, he came in and out in an instant, no one could stop him, I was worried he killed you.”

Elizabeth smiled “I am glad you aren’t dead, so you need any help standing?”

Godfrey Greybrook

Godfrey saw that there were significant numbers of Obeah's faithful attempting to distrupt the ritual for the Eternal Emperor.

There were no signs... Has the Eternal Emperor chosen to forsake them this time? Had they not sacrificed enough?

When the soldiers came, Godfrey immediately took his ritual blade and declared that any step forward would see more blood on the street. While there was too many, he was not going to let them have the goblet.

"Your diety is evil and so are you! Your heralds spread destruction and false promises. Do you think your Obeah will ever bring you salvation?? She won't care if humanity destroys itself - her intervention only comes when it suits for she is a selfish diety."

While some of the soldiers did try and interfere, Godfrey rather pathetically attempted to gesture them away:

"Another step forward and I will make it my mission to see blood split in this city in the name of the Eternal Emperor! Do you want to be responsible for the death of your nobles?"

Emilia Delamoire

The Square

Emilia, seeing the troops descend on Polli and Godfrey was thankful to be a lone woman among hundreds.

Pulling up from the wall she steadied herself, still light headed from the blood loss.

She walked a few paces and crouched over a fallen Obian soldiers and relieved the corpse of his cloak bearing their colors and sigil.

Emilia tied the cloak over her own shoulders and pulled the cowl low. She then kept to the side alleys and less crowded streets to make her way out of the Square and depart Keffa.

Genesis Mcloud

The Square

Nova

Hearing Avice's words over the commotion happening elsewhere, Genesis turn and nods in return.

"Of course, I will join you right away."

A little apprehensive to leave themselves unguarded, yet feeling a bit at ease with the fact that none has attempted to interfere with them yet, Genesis moves to the center of the circle of animals. She removes her sword from her scabbard, and places it on the ground in front of her. Kneeling down herself, she removes her helmet, letting her midnight black hair fall to her shoulders. She places her helmet on the ground at her sword, and does the only thing she can think to do to aid Avice. Genesis begins praying.

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

The fourth day came and went for Timsen and he felt it not. Far down in the depths of his trance, Timsen had no perception of the physical world. Indeed, all he could feel were the emotions and magics of the city as every ritual came to fruition, or failed.

Timsen rode the flow of energies and used his willpower and intent of helping the voice of 'spring' into the world. Hope and life was strong in his thoughts as the Obian ritual magics seared the air.

Summer Evening

Do'Urden Sharpspeare

• Twack

"Well done, Your Grace. Bullseye" the servant as Do'Urden loaded up another arrow. "Thank you, Jamsel. One must keep one's skills sharp or lose those skills." Do'Urden smiled slightly. Jamsel was relatively new to his service, having only been with the Duke for a month or so. Jamsel was a small man, at 5 foot even. His sandy blond hair swaying in the wind.

Do'Urden took aim again. He was camped on the outskirts of Keffa. There was strange things happening here. So this archery practice was his was of keeping a sense of calm. Taking careful aim, he released.

• Twack

"You hit the target, Your Grace. But you are off center just a bit" Jamsel reported. 'Huh, I should adjust my grip slightly' Do'Urden thought. And as he did so, he saw his men at work in the camp. Over by the large tree was several men practicing their swordsmanship. On the other side of the camp the cooks were busy with the next meal. They had caught some rabbit the day before and were using it to make some Rabbit stew. Just thinking of the food got Do'Urden's mouth watering. 'Control yourself, you are a seasoned veteran and not a pimply faced boy out on his first campaign.' So the Duke prepared another arrow and aimed.

• Twack-whoosh

"Sorry, Your Grace, you missed," Jamsel sheepishly stated. Do'Urden just looked at the man. "Ok, that is enough for now. Collect the arrows and return them to my tent. I'm going to teach those young pups over there how to handle a sword." Bowing his head, Jamsel set off on his task. Do'Urden stalked off towards his men, mouth still watering over the stew. Now, however, his hunger was for something else. He may be getting old, but he was still fit and would prove it, even at the expense of adding some bruises to himself and his men.

Ehrich Weisz

A dusty wagon arrived very late to the proceedings in Keffa. Along the road the Duke had usually been enclosed within, all day long pouring over recent accounts and much older books of lore, but now at the final stages of the journey he seated himself up front and beheld the mysterious spectacle unfolding in Keffa for himself.

The obscure accounts, which varied wildly in tone from one day to the next, had done nothing to ease his concerns but the palpable magic energy originating from the column of light was an irresistible source of interest. As a practical student of arcane lore he hoped to try and distinguish between the mystical and the magical, but above all he was ever warry that daimonic energy did not seek to corrupt the situation and he kept a pair of banishment scrolls tucked carefully within his robes.

He recognised the livery of many distinguished houses within the busy city but thought first to make his way to his own Emperor and this odd Dame Dolores who had inspired this strange migration from the Vales. "I would give a golden goose to understand what was going on here," Ehrich mused to himself and busied himself taking copious notes of the strange proceedings.

Dreams of Timsen

Everyone experiences dreams related to Timsen. Those who have met him dream of past interactions while those who have not met him dream of reading his name in a report. Timsen himself dreams of playing with soil when a child.

Alice Schwarzherzig

The Daleish Corner

Alice looked on as the guards dragged out Inica, whose mouth was held open by a device strapped to her head. She was forced to her knees in front of Bernard.

"We give another life to the ritual." Alice spoke, turning to Inica.

"By the powers vested in me, I condemn you to die. May your soul find redemption in the beyond."

Alice motioned and a crucible full of molten iron was brought out once again. A funnel was place in Inica's mouth, and the iron poured into it. Inica made a noise... Part gurgling, part screaming, but for a moment. Her body twitched and thrashed violently against her bindings... And Inica was dead.

"Let our light shine Bernard." She spoke softly to the piper.

Jecht Tideweaver

The Square

Shattered Vales Corner

Jecht had been ever vigilant remaining with Dolores at the shrine she had made out of flowers. The woman sang more often than not and melodic voice had grown on the Emperor. He now wore traditional matching ceremonial plate mail, his guard insisting he no longer remain in the open bare chested. They grumbled something about keeping an arrow or a daimon's claw out of his heart. During the proceedings, Jecht had been present went the magical attack upon Dolores came, only for healing magicks to burst from around her and she emerged mostly unscathed. Despite his vigilant guard, she had nearly come to harm. This was a subject that had the Emperor fixated. He did not know how to protect her from the arcane. The Emperor immediately ordered spies and extra eyes and ears to be placed all over the city to listen for incoming danger.

As he was at the shrine, dreaming bright dreams, one of those who were sent to listen to the cities going ons at large came to the him.

"My lord Emperor, the men of Duke Ehrich have come to the city!" he quickly spat. Clearly out of breath from running.

Jecht's eyebrows raised. Perhaps his prayers to Veiled Goddess had not gone unanswered. With a wave of his hand he dismissed the lad.

"Duke Ulv, I leave you in command here. See to it the men remain ever vigilant and no harm comes to Dolores. Imperatrix Tara, Praetrix Arnulf, you both come with me to greet the Duke and we shall bring him here" ordered Jecht.

With a nod the Duke quickly took command and went about ensuring everyone remained in place. Jecht's Royal Chargers as well as the men under Tara and Arnulfs command quickly formed up and they went to the southern gate of the city. About three quarters of the way there and the bright banners of the crystal tree held by Duke Ehrich's retinue were in sight.

When the two parties met, Jecht greeted the older man with open arms. The younger man still showing reverence for his predecessor.

"Duke Ehrich, you come at a good time. I am glad you were able to join us. I know the workings of Liber Alchemical have been keeping you quite busy as of late. I still must make a trip to Iato to visit the guild myself. Come, allow me to escort you to the square in which the Vale has set up and bring you up to speed. I fear while we are secure physically, we have still been vulnerable to attack by magic. Of which there is quite a lot being slung around."

As the two men began to make their way back to the corner of the square where the Shattered Vales had set up their shrine, Jecht began confiding all the things that had transpired with his mentor.

Aibhlidhn Dubhaine

Aibhlidhn perched elegantly on the stone parapet of a large townhouse on the eastern perimeter of the city's main plaza, her deadly flintwood bow at rest in one hand as the other shielded her eyes from the dying glare of the westering sun. The Royal Fusileers had taken up positions in the neighbouring houses, waiting for some indication from their mistress as to what to do next.

The scene below was a riot of colour and movement with banners from across the continent arrayed loosely by realm. An embattled contingent from Vordul Sanguinis clustered about the detritus of what appeared to be a battle and possibly a religious ritual of some kind whilst to their north a large force of Thalmarkin knights, fronted by the one-time Daimon worshipper Dancer, seemed to be in dispute with them. The Queen was more interested in events around the Temple of Obeah where two overlaid columns of coruscating light thrust heavenwards with such intensity that even the highest clouds seemed powerless against them. It seemed the bulk of the Obian garrison were gathering there and she could make out a number of Nothoi banners. Doubtless she'd find some of the Emperor's companies from the Vales as well though none was clearly marked.

The Temple then was the place to make for.

Ehrich Weisz

The Square

Shattered Vales Corner

Ehrich was heartened first to receive a warm welcome from his comrades from the Vales, and then drew reassurance when Dolores accepted an offering he found it hard to understand that could be easily incorporated into a malign ritual.

Tired from the road and the overwhelming spectacle of the busy city, the Duke retired to make final studies before bed, dozing off with an old book for a pillow. Dreams of a vague acquaintance who he had corresponded with on only two occasions of note seemed a little strange and even more so when others of his entourage reported the same.

The Duke who strove to try and make order and sense from the fledgling magical sciences of alchemy and astrology ahead of the mysticism others favoured, finding himself so quickly subsumed into the fantastical was a little disturbed. Making some final observations to his diaries the Duke retired properly to bed. this time with a trusty garland of ivy and thyme to ward off any further fantastical visions and resolving himself to continue with practical investigations afresh come the morning.

Luto

Temple

Nothoi

Luto arrived at the Obian temple seeking Yao Ling. A member of the Daishi, he was told to wait while temple bureaucrats confirmed his request with their superiors.

Bernard

Daleish Corner

Gentle Bernard felt disturbed by Alice's contributions to Irondale's rituals, but he also knew such rituals were a team effort that took all types.

Their lives fueling the ritual, Bernard played solemnly for their deaths and non-consensual sacrifice. Not as influential as a consensual sacrifice, yet helpful all the same.

Feeling a heavy heart with such bloodshed, Bernard began to oversee the various human followers wheeling barrows of soil into the square from outside the city walls. He pulled out a bag of assorted seeds and began planting small gardens in the vicinity. After each plot was finished, he would play an irondalian tune on his bagpipes, blessing it with ritual song. Few noticed, but the plots formed a larger arcane symbol. The gardening comforted one's soul, and strengthened the ritual.

Presently, Alice brought another unwilling sacrifice. Bernard solemnly nodded and played another somber hymn to mark another life's passing, as Irondale's symbols glowed brighter.

Viviane

Outside the Temple Square

Viviane tries the wine. It was good. She tries more, before replying, "It happened so quickly, and my back was to whoever it was."

Viviane thinks a moment, "How did you find out the assassin was male, if they weren't identified?"

Viviane attempts to stand, but she realizes she probably needs water and food first.

Dolores

The Square

Shattered Vales

The shrine of Beluaterra's plants had grown considerable in size and the various human and animal followers were now praying to the Goddess, or singing praises, around the shrine. Inside the shrine with the nobility present, Dolores was playing the harp and singing.

12th October

Summer Day

Rituals

Viviane was still making her way to Obeah's temple, currently resting after assassination attempt. Even so, the original portal stones glow brightest of any ritual, though slightly dimmer than the day before.

Bernard was busy gardening for Irondale's ritual. The garden plots and arcane circle glow almost as brightly as the Obian stones, even more brightly than they had the previous day.

Dolores was playing the harp inside her shrine of foraged flora, which glowed about half as bright as the Obian and Irondalian rituals, yet brighter than the day previous.

Polli was recuperating outside the walls of Keffa, Vordul Sanguinis's ritual-energy lingering but gradually dissipating.

Esdalot was grilling any offered meats, the grill-altar glowing about half as bright as the Vales' shrine.

Nothoi's ritual was vulnerable with Luto having left to meet Yao Ling at the Obian temple. Even so, the animal and human dancers glowed brighter than they had before Luto had slain Maurice in single combat.

Avice was joining Genesis in prayer within the pyramid-shrine of animals, which glowed the least of all rituals.

Wren

In the mad dash toward the temple, Wren had lost sight of her friends and gradually slowed. The fear of dashing into that otherworldly light's presence alone was tight around her chest. What now?

The small, birdlike woman halts over to one side of the bustling plaza, mounts some steps and peers intently first ahead, then all around, seeking familiar faces.

Insanity abounds. There are fights, spells being cast, more people arriving. It seems as though people cover every flat surface in sight. Even the rooftops! Oh, she I know.

The raven-haired commander that can only be Ar Agyr's Queen--for whom she repaired an item very recently--is visible watching the action and flanked with a number of troops high above on a parapet.

With one last glance around, still not knowing where Nerta or her other friends have gotten to, Wren decides to watch the monarch of the realm that has granted her asylum and give aid to them where she can.

Alice Schwarzherzig

The Daleish Corner

The ritual glowing brightly, Alice watched Gentle Bernard tend the garden, and was awed by the quick growth. The solemn tunes, and the growing garden stirred her. She was saddened by the deaths she had ordered, but knew well and surely that without death, new life could not be. This cycle mirrored the philosophies of Irondale. Bernard's sorrowful tune continued, and Alice began to sing along.

Rest now, lie back and close your eyes,

Silence take you, quiet your final cries,

For this too shall pass,

This too shall pass...

Birds sing amongst the trees,

A wolf's cry upon the breeze,

Your head resteth upon the sand,

Become one now with the land,

Cut and bleed, dance and sing,

Drink and laugh while steel doth ring,

Dance the ballad of life,

Ere it end at the point of a knife,

Rest now, lie back and close your eyes,

Silence take you, quiet your final cries,

For this too shall pass,

All things shall pass...

Fear not the tune upon your breath,

For if life is but a dance,

Should not the tune be played by death?

Give me your hand, take a chance,

How sweet that life doth end,

For new things lie roun' the bend,

Without death cannot be seen,

Come see now, beckoned to Heen,

Rest now, lie back and close your eyes,

Silence take you, quiet your final cries...

Quiet your final cries...

For you too shall pass,

We all shall pass..."

Alice smiled. Her grandmother used to sing her that song. Her father didn't approve, thinking it too morbid for a child, but she had always found it comforting. She looked to Bernard.

"Such beauty you have wrought gardener. It is almost a shame it cannot last forever. There is comfort, and beauty in knowing though, that when this Garden eventually wilts away, it will allow for something else beautiful to come into this world. The cycle of life and death is a sadly beautiful thing like that, no?"

Duncan Blackstone

The Temple Square

Duncan stood up slowly, he grinned widely, his eyes manic as the blissful pain ran through his body. He could feel the Tenebris Cordis kick in and he felt his head clear as he reached to his left shoulder and pushed it, he felt it pop and crack back into place.

His eyes began to glow a bright crimson and Duncan reached to his belt and extracted a small vial and downed the black liquid.

Duncan could feel the potion taking affect, rippling across his body and enhancing his senses.

Duncan grinned and then cooed “Valian, Valian, Valian.”

Duncan’s smile became cruel and a manic match to his crazed eyes “You will have to hit me a lot harder then that to kill me.”

Duncan pulled out his two daggers and charged screaming “LET’S SEE IF YOU BETTER THEN YOUR PRECIOUS HERVIS!”

Duncan dodged the blows of Valian’s soldiers, he slashed and hacked as he danced his way forward, two fell before Haydrian and Valian could reacted, Haydrian was kicked in the stomach and had his head slammed into the fountain by Duncan in a blur of movement.

Duncan and Valian stood face to face now, Valian looked at his unit which was making its way to the temple with Elizabeth and Viviane.

Duncan was quick and Valian soon found himself struggling, he struck down at the Blackstone with his hammer but Duncan caught his hand and smiled as he brought his dagger below Valian’s wrist and cut up, slicing the hand clean from Valian’s arm.

Duncan kicked Valian and sent him to the floor, he raised his dagger and leapt at Valian swinging his dagger down at fallen knight.

Yao Ling Pryde

Yao Ling pursed her lips and looked to the column of light where the souls once again rested.

She held the sword in one hand and pilfered through her scrolls. She found the ones she wanted and smiled. This should do nicely.

Yao Ling rolled them out on a nearby table, ran her fingers over the words, and reached out for the magics flowing around them in the city.

She placed one mental hand on the column of light and the souls therein, another mental hand on the Obian ritual supporting it, and another mental hand on the Nothoi ritual in the temple of Daishi. She focused another mental hand on Timsen at the dome of the temple. Other mental hands held the icons of Daishi and Atlas, and their links to the various incantations in the temple, that resident in the amazing pockets of her armor.

She fingered the scrolls with her real hand, and waited for the column to turn green around her. Then she murmured the incantations as she focused on spreading joy, unity, and cooperation throughout all of her mental appendages linking the two temple complexes.

She finished the rituals, watched the scrolls glow golden, and released the magics to do her will in the world.

Gavin

The Square - Shattered Vales

Gavin slipped silently towards the group of learned Vales nobility. Almost reaching their inner circle before he was halted by their bodyguards. Grabbed by the scruff of his neck he was almost hauled off but managed to catch the attention of the old Emperor Ehrich for whom he had run errands in the past.

"My Lords and Ladys - I bring my own humble gifts for our ritual. I hope these rare mountain flowers will please the Goddess?" - and he presented the small but beautiful flowers to Dame Delores. "And maybe this scroll will have some benefit?" and he handed that over also.

Happy his part was done he bowed out and headed for the tavern.

Vahanian Blint

Vahanian watched Valian storm over to where Duncan was standing with Dancer and Anyte. Valian was shouting at Duncan, apparently the two were related. Vahanian considered letting the idiot boy get himself killed, but Kethan's words echoed in his head "It's a blood ritual." So Vahanian stormed over over with his soldiers, and whipped his blade out, catching the dagger that Duncan was aiming at Valian. He wrenched the dagger free from Duncan's grasp and leveled his own sword at him. "Back away." He growled. Duncan, grinned with glee and stepped back slowly, hands open and spread in mockery.

Vahanian reached down and grabbed Valian by the back of his collar and hauled him to his feet and away from the fight. He dragged him a good distance from Duncan and Dancer, ignoring the comments he was sure Emilia was throwing his way, from somewhere. His guards had their weapons drawn and deterred Dancer or Duncan from pursuing Vahanian.

He hurled him into the middle of his soldiers and leveled a stare at him. Valian, his blood hot and ready to continue the fight, surged forward trying to break free. Vahanian dodged out of the way of his flailing mace slapping Valian's hand with the flat of his blade, causing him to drop the mace, and punched Valian. "Think you fool!" Vahanian hissed. Valian looked stunned as he came to his senses and Vahanian's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, danger gleaming in his eye. "If it's death you want, then I will happily kill you. But if you want to live, especially for that child you dote on, then think, for once in your miserable, heathen life. These events are bigger than you and your petty family squabble." Vahanian sheathed his sword, but kept his hand tightly on it's hilt.

Valian was still breathing heavy and looked at Vahanian "He murdered them! He's responsible! He must pay!"

Vahanian shoved Valian back again and said "I don't care. Maybe he did, maybe he murdered them, maybe he danced and sang as they burned alive, maybe he slowly and sensually mutilated their bodies, maybe he even tied you down and made you watch as he raped each and everyone of them, and then killed them. It doesn't matter. Not today. Use your head, son. This-" he said gesturing to Keffa "-this is all bigger than you, or me, or family issues." There was a firmness in Vahanian's voice as he said "I got to your precious child once before, don't make me do it again." He saw the fear and the worry flicker through Valian's eyes. His voice softened ever so slightly as he said "If after this is all done, you still want to hunt him down and try to kill him, fine be my guest. I'll arm you and let you loose. But not today. Go after him again, before this is over, and I promise you, I will kill you."

Duncan Blackstone

Temple Square

Duncan allowed Valian to be dragged away he raised his hands mockingly at the Obian Duke “He is all your’s Duke, he’ll die sooner or later Stone, then she has nothing.”

Duncan waved with Valian’s cut off hand at the noble, who looked just about ready to charge...or faint, Duncan really could tell.

Duncan’s eyes lost their glow and the man appeared almost normal again as the Tenebris Cordis powered down and the potion started to wear off.

He turned and helped Dancer back up “Come on Lord, let’s get you to where you’re going.”

Fiorina Margaretener

Fiorina stoped weeping after a few days. Dried out and exhausted, whenever she closed her eyes she still could see her arrow, guided by a golden streak... right into the bowels of Gustav, the one-armed historian and former disciple of Xlair Silverblade. He was her Benefactor, Mentor, Father, Brother, Lover....

"GIVE ME BACK MY ARM YOU BASTARDS!" she heard him scream before the world went dark. Rumours say that Sir Gustav turned into several piles of goo but his lost arm still must be somewhere...

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

Timsen dreamed of Atamara in his youth and the bounds of the Cagilan Empire. He was walking the lands of his old family estate in Calis, playing in the soil and remembering the taste of the rich earth. Calis was a busy city, a trading city, so smells and sounds of far-away places was common. Timsen had felt the lure of travel early in his life, and often wandered off to play wherever he could. Those were good memories.

Timsen didn't so much as awake as transition to another mood. Memories of himself as a baby shifted into rising green power. Good or bad had changed into one thing, the Green. Timsen was okay with that.

Then came another burst of feeling, of mood. Joy. Sheer, almost overwhelming, pure ecstasy. Timsen's frail physical body grunted once, softly, which alerted his captain and all his Slingers immediately, as that was the first thing he had done in a few days. Spiritually, though, he was flying! Joy seemed to be a natural pairing with the Green, and they spun around each other like a double-helix. Timsen flowed with it. He had no choice.

Kristina Chamberlain

Temple

She looked up at the two women. There was still no sign of Viviene and far too much corrupting magiks flying and seeping into the column.

"It seems we are past having a choice. Let us see what we can achieve."

Summer Evening

Ryosuke Guile

Riding into the city of Keffa just as the sun sets, Ryosuke sits on his roan courser at the head of the finally completed Dawnguard.

Resplendent in the finest arms and armour that are available anywhere to man, the one-hundred man strong unit is crisp and clean in their march with not a speck of dust to be seen on their sable cloaks or their emerald tabards. Their formation shows their immaculate training at Beluaterra's Best Infantry recruitment center in Firbalt, and nothing escapes the predatorial gazes coming from behind their fox-spirit masks.

"Erich, you know the drill. Keep on my tail, and all foreigners at bay. You have the list of acceptables. Now, hop to!" the young Hierophant quietly orders his new Captain as he nudges his horse to move a bit quicker. With a quick clicking noise, the smartly dressed Captain of the Dawnguard along with the ninety-nine other men of the unit pick up their pace to match Ryosuke's as he bee-lines straight for the Temple Square.

Passing the reins of his trusty steed off to Grik when he arrives, Ryosuke waits but a moment as the men fall into rank around him and begin their procession towards the ritual area of Gardener Bernard and Ambassador Alice. A small gesture Ryosuke's his hand, and his men filter out to bolster the surrounding cordon line.

"Greetings, Ambassador Alice, and Bernard Greenthumb. I trust all has been safe in my absence? What is the status of things now?" the silver-masked ruler of Irondale asks softly in his lilting voice.

Sadona Vilanova

The Daleish Corner

Sadona entered the garden, and inhaled deeply, the scent of the flowers and plants filling her nose, driving out the harshness of the grill smoke. She wandered briefly, revelling in the beauty of the Garden, before finding Alice. The two exchanged whispered words, and Sadona approached Bernard, holding out a dagger for him.

"The Blood of a Piper, let it water the garden." Sadona spoke solmenly, as Bernard noticed the dagger was coated in blood. The blood of Esdalot. She had to break off before more damage could be done, but she had not been noticed in the crowd.

"Let the Gardens glow bright."

Aibhlidhn Dubhaine

Temple Square - Ar Agyr

The Agyrian Fusileers circled northwards through the streets surrounding the Temple square, a rotating swarm of disciplined squads providing cover as the Queen and her advisors made their way to the Temple of Obeah. Aibhidhn knew Lord Paridithous and his marksmen was somewhere in the city but as of yet she'd not seen his banner, Hopefully he'd have the good sense to also make for the centre of the incident.

"Do you think this is wise Ma'am?" Aelwyn had been nervous since realising the extent of the sorceries unleashed in the city.

"Come now lad, you're not scared of a few coloured lights are you," Captain Caedberga nudged him with her elbow, "wait until you see a real portal with daimons streaming from it."

Aelwyn was too young to remember the last Invasion.

"Leave the boy alone, he's right to be concerned," Aibhlidhn clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly, "but don't worry lad, we've faced worse than this and lived to tell the tale."

A pity the same couldn't be said for many of those who'd marched with them on those bloody campaigns.

Paridithous von Hammersmark

Lord Paridithous had been on the outskirts of the ongoing incidents. Having found a passable inn he had requisitioned the topmost floors for his men and posted sentries on the roof.

He had been in the middle of playing cards with his captain when one of the sentries comes running down from his post. "The Queen mi'lord! I've spotted the Queen's banners! She makes for the temple district!"

Paridithous had literally no clue what was happening in the city, and figured inserting himself into the Chaos would only heighten it. His Queen though.. she would know what to do. He gave the orders to his captain, who swiftly started yelling at the men.

"Double time you ingrates, we're leaving! Light load, bring your weapons and armor and nothing else. You, scout! Run to the Queen and report that we will shortly be falling in line behind her."

A flurry of activity erupted as the Avian Assault Squad swiftly made their preparations to leave.

Moira

The Temple

Moira raised her left arm and let her fingers trail through the turbulent energies of the Flow, leaving complex tangles of movement in their wake as the the two travellers once more followed the Path of Conviction towards the twin columns of etheric brilliance. At first the Flow resisted but with each step her fingers seemed to cut ever easier through the storm, harvesting the primal energy of the higher dimensions and channelling it through her body to the luminous blade thence to its twin in the mortal realm.

The thrill of being so fully exposed to the catastrophe was verging on pure ecstacy and it took all of Moira's self-control not to surrender herself to it. This was the raw thought-stuff of creation, boiling with infinite possibilities and untainted by the base considerations of flesh and form. Many an inexperienced traveller had made the mistake of listening to its silent promises of power, losing themselves eternally in that raging maelstrom of psychic violence. It would be so easy... To just let go of her mortal form and claim the power of a god!

No!!! That was not her heart-self. That was the facies of the maelstrom hungering for fresh thoughts, untapped possibilities to consume as surely as they would warp and remould flesh and spirit to their inconstant desires!

"Let the Hand's will be done," Moira muttered the familiar prayer, eyes fixed on the stones ahead of her, reasserting her commitment to the oath she had sworn long ago. To mete justice without fear or favour. The moment passed and she relaxed into her role as conduit.

The streams of sorcerous energy emanating from Keffa up-below were mixing with the eddies emanating from her fingers, mixing and swirling with the power she was drawing from the Flow, and as they did so the city's spires were increasingly limned with a warm green lustre. There was a power there, burrowing itself deep into the earth, awakening memories of a lost idyll, older even than lost Fontan, raising memories of a distant childhood amidst the glorious domes of Cagil. Memories of four siblings whose destinies unbeknownst to them lay far from the land of their birth...

Aelanta Peregrine

Aelanta was back in Keffa, a regiment of young female warriors in her tow. Lightly armoured, each carrying a pack of vicious javelins and short spears for melee. The amazons wore high helmets crested with bronze beaks and falcon wings to honour the sigil of house Peregrine. Smaller wings were attached to their leather sandals. Not very practical, but definitely eye-catching.

The crowds parted as the women made their way to the temple square. Aelanta new her way in the city well. She treaded this cobblestone on so many occasions. So many pivotal points of her life were linked to these streets. And it looked like another one was right behind the corner. "We stand with you, Your Majesty." Reported Aelanta, as she and her warriors caught up with Queen Aibhlidhn and her royal guard.

Come what may. There was no fear, no doubts. This time at least Aelanta knew she stood for what she truly believed in. She stood against all that was occult and unclean. She stood with the humanity.

Aaron

"Your humble servant pray before Daishi and Priest Yao Ling.

Lo, there do we see our fathers. Lo, there do we see our mothers. Lo, there do we see our sisters and our brothers. The line of our people back to the beginning. They do call to us to take our places Where the brave live forever."

Kristina Chamberlain

Temple

It had been a matter of hours but the seething energies had continued to grow, bulging ominously at the constraints of the net she had created. Moira seemed fully at home, blade flashing with a level of abandon she knew was far more in her own mind than in Moiras actions.

The blood magiks and the dark arcana of the Cultists were palpable stains weighing heavily, but as she reached out to call to them, the waves of nausea and displacement that followed gave her pause that she would be challenged to control their exit. Yao Ling had great experience with portals and magic, but Kristina was weary not to send an errant casting while they were in the infancy of yet another bastardised use of magics.

Instead she pulled on the cooler blue tinged threads, she was unsure of the tradition they belonged too but they had a feel of rushing water and for the briefest moment she felt she could smell the scents of the arbour of the White Tree.

Her plan, for what it was worth, had been to denature the magics to their most basic primal forms and... and do what.... send raw magic at Yao Ling and hope not to set a plague of monsters or simply vaporise the poor woman.

She sank to her knees, the weight of the energies she had already absorbed coupled with the blue energies she was attempting to channel away from the conduit increasing the pressure on what she knew in reality was only a shadow of her actual self, but at this time felt as heavy as stone.

She extended a finger of the primal energy to bond with the blue lights. The golden primal flames were completely amalgous, their purpose was to be defined and essentially tagging the blue threads she attempted to nature the primal fire, allowing the flow of the energies to coalesce into something more tangible. Fire and stone were not options, and the energies were such that their physicality removed the possibility of wind... so water it was, a wave over her feet, rising swiftly until she could feel its coldness at her chest.

Beginning to panic she tried to focus on the image of Yao Ling in the temple, releasing the waters with a silent apology to the high priestess. It could be a light mist, or a dangerous deluge, she had no way of knowing, but she prayed that Yao Ling would have a plan of how to deal with it regardless.

Dreams of Flowers

You are walking through fields of sunflowers, marigolds, daffodils, and goldenrod.

Awakening from another dream, you feel eager for the day.

13th October

Summer Day

Wren

Temple Square - Ar Agyr

As she watched, the Queen's retinue formed up and began to purposefully navigate the plaza, heading directly toward the columns.

They will do right.

The little woman waited and timed her foray into the seething throng of people just as the retinue passed her vantage. She began to follow, closely as foam in their wake, toward the pulsing, eerie lights.

I hope Nerta is there...

Jheda Orobar

The Square

Thalmarkin corner

The meat on the grill was singing its delicious sizzling song, smoke full of promise rose up and crawled across the square like a snake looking for prey. Jheda turned his head in the direction of the fire when the smell hit his nose. For a moment, he forgot what he was doing. The secretion of saliva in his mouth switched to overdrive, making him drool a little. The growling sound escaping from his stomach scared a few people nearby, and reminded him he hadn't eaten all day. He saw a few nobles from Thalmarkin, probably as hungry as him, around Esdalot, who seemed to be the one doing the cooking. Their troops were organised in a defensive circle, as if they feared someone would steal their food.

After asking those with him if they wanted to join him, no one could or should make important decisions on an empty stomach after all, he made his way to the fire. Being recognised as Thalmarkin's Judge, he was granted passage without any trouble. Jheda ordered his own men to reinforce the circle around them, giving the explicit order no one was to be given passage without his permission. Behind the grill, Esdalot seemed to be in some kind of trance. Jheda approached him, looking at the food in admiration.

"Esdalot, I didn't know you did this. You should have told me sooner. You see, I'm a bit of a grill master myself." Jheda reached for two documents. "Here, two of my family's most secret, and sacred possessions. The first one's a recipe for a dry rub, the second for a marinade. I have everything you need right here," he said, pointing at a satchel filled with jars and vials. "I never leave home without this. If you use this right, even the Gods beyond the Veil will salivate."

Jheda handed everything over, hoping this would turn out to be the gorging of a lifetime. The wet saliva spot on his chest grew bigger and bigger.

Yao Ling Pryde

The Temple

Yao Ling frowned and looked away from her incantations as a rushing sound from the column of light caught her attention.

The spray caught her totally be surprise and drenched her in a second.

Water. It was spewing out water. Water.

Yao Ling blinked. She'd been prepared for magic but... water? What was she supposed to do with water? More importantly, what COULD she do with water? She was in a giant hole. She was at the bottom of a crater with a temple built on top of it. And it was filling up with water.

What was she supposed to do with water?

Neptune. Of course. Neptune. He did water.

Yao Ling fumbled through her pockets and grabbed the icon of Atlas. Atlas and Neptune fought on the same side. Usually. Sometimes. When they weren't fighting each other. Ah, it was close enough.

"Neptune, hear me!" Yao Ling shouted over the roar of water as she held the wolf sword in one hand, the icon of Atlas in the other, and called on the power they both represented. Then she bent the magic surrounding her into a flow that shot through the chamber door, fell up the stairs, and pumped out the temple's western gate into the square beyond.

Considering all the stuff that had happened in the square recently, she could see it getting a good cleaning. She could visualize it. She could imagine it rather vividly in fact.

Nearby Arrest!

Within Keffa, Wren was arrested by Scarlett Rose, Countess of Fikman.

Summer Evening

Moira

Moira had been so lost in carefree childhood memories that for a moment she didn't notice Kristina stumbling to her knees. It was a novice's mistake, to let the facies suck at her concentration like that, and she cursed her foolishness. Kneeling she tapped the Priestess on the shoulder and tasted a little of the energy the younger woman had harvested, cold and wet and blue as the deep oceans.

"You don't have the strength to do this Kristina, not in this place," the former knight spoke gently, calming her panic the way a jockey might a thoroughbred racehorse, steadying the Priestess with her left arm as she helped her to her feet, "But you do have the strength to complete the ritual."

That was what mattered. Moira could channel the excess energy through the thirsting maw of Lannceann MacTíre but only Kristina could complete the complex web of enchantments necessary to activate the ritual and unmake the fold.

Viviane

The Temple Square

Valian felt his rage subside only slightly, he hated them, all of them, Duncan, Vahanian, this whole bloody city.

Valian nodded “I will tend to the Lady Viviane then, he cast one final glare at the grinning Duncan who waved Valian’s own dismembered hand at him with an evil grin.

Valian turned slowly, limping, ‘think, think, use my head, or I will lose it’ he thought to himself

Valian stopped “If I die, will you look after her?”

He looked back to Blint, his eyes pleading for an answer before sighing and walking back to his unit.

Tomasa was waiting, Haydrian had been taken to a healer and the unit was ready to move.

Valian nodded to the healer with his unit which bandaged the wound and gave him a healing draught.

He turned almost groggily to Vivane “Lady Emberhallow, let’s get you to the Temple before any other sh*te happens.”

Outside the Temple Square...Temple Square

Viviane had eaten a bowl of grits and had a glass of water. Feeling better, she had stood and her and Elizabeth were ready to continue the walk to the Temple with Valian as their escort.

Ehrich Weisz

Keffa

The square quarter of the Vales

Ehrich spent the early hours of the day trying to determine the nature and temperament of the harpist Dolores but as ever found her inscrutable. He turned to meditating on the nature of the shrine she had built and prayed it represented only good tidings. This branch of study was far from his favoured practical area of arcane study and was too close to mysticism, and he found himself wishing he had packed a text on druidism of the ancient times but alas the need had been to travel light.

After a morning that bordered on idleness he turned his attention to busy preparations for a tribute to Dolores' ritual, a hastily arranged replication of the Maypole celebrations popular in the Shattered Vales springtime. The ritual mainly celebrated crops prospering but that often brought associations with fertility rituals. Dusting off a neglected scroll from his collection he let out an unexpected short laugh, recalling the first time he had unknowingly unleashed this scrolls energies. At least our Obian friends might benefit from the population boost and perhaps it might confound those with violent intent dominating their hearts.

The Duke picked out the most good looking young village folk to lead a ritual of dance and song in praise of natural growth and regeneration amongst the people of the Vales assembled.

Dolores

The Square

Shattered Vales

Delores had been receiving scrolls and letters from Vale nobility. One upon singing received her support of breaking out in song. Another upon horses particularly excited her, and she declared the author and benefactor most blessed with Divine insight.

Delores was grateful for the scroll, but far more excited for the rare mountain flowers, hugging Gavin more affectionately than typical for noble-adventurer relations and proclaiming him blessed with Divine insight, then hurrying to place the flowers in an honoured niche of the constructed flora-shrine.

Rufus had also brought a gift. To which Delores replied with discussion on various silly hats, questions of the red monk and the forgotten monastery, and hearty encouragement towards ritual-chanting.

She pondered Rufus' last question a moment, "Neither new or reborn. Born to us. Not new, but new to us. Not reborn, yet born again."

Beginning to feel tired, a wave of energy filled Dolores, refreshing her. She began to play upon her harp and sing once more, about dancing with a girl named Lola. Some of the animals and humans who had followed her to Keffa began to dance.

Elshon Geg

The Square

Thalmarkin corner

Elshon smiled at Jheda. "What a great contribution! I say we start the marinade at once!"

"Just in time!" he added as a MORDOK acolyte approached the Thalmarkin crowd, rolling a cask in front of him. Behind him another acolyte approached wheeling a small cart filled with cups.

"It seems a servant of MORDOK has brought the refreshments! With Esdalot manning the grill we shall throw the greatest bachanalian boucherie this island has ever seen! Everyone come and drink! Like the ever hungering MODROK who shall never be sated until all of existence has passes through his gullet, I hope you brought your appetites!"

Egil

Keffa

The square - quarter of the Vales

Egil sat in a shady part of the square, the part occupied by the familiar faces from the Shattered Vales. He was in a bad mood, having chased wizards and sages around Keffa and it's surrounding regions over the last days with little to no outcome. Whilst taking a mouthfoul from his pouch of wine, Egil observed Dolores get really excited and happy about some flower brought to her by Gavin.

"Those sages are not interested in the flowers anyway", Egil murmured as he took to his feet, searched his bag for flowers and walked in the direction of Dolores and the ritual.

He found four Rare woodland flowers, and feeling slightly tipsy, his feet started dancing as he approached the harpist and presented her with the flowers.

Jecht Tideweaver

The Square - Shattered Vales Corner

With the recent spike dancing and singing the shrine built in the corner of the square held by the Vales was becoming positively festive.

Much to the chagrin of his guard, Jecht once again freed himself from his heavy ceremonial chestplate in favor of a loose frilled white shirt.

Sprinting to the middle of the square, the Emperor began to dancing with partner after partner. Man, woman, animal, commoner, soldier, nobility it did not matter. As he danced he would clap and join in occasionally with the familiar parts of the song.

Aside from his unamused military commanders and those charged to keep a careful watch, many of "off duty" soldiers began to join their Emperor and Dolores in dance and song.

Though the Emperor joined in the entertaining songs and dance, he would still occasionally glance around alertly and never strayed far from his armor and lance.

Arjan de Zueww

Arjan wasn't sure it was the wine or the strange smoke that surrounded Keffa these days but he felt full of the joys of Spring and he felt like dancing and singing! Taking off his armour he joined the others dancing round the Vales' shrine. There were maidens dancing too, throwing petals in the air, and Arjan felt the years and worries melt away, before long he was skipping round the Maypole in just his loincloth.

Valian Stone Daubeny

Temple Square

Valian nodded to Viviane and held his hand up high, he clenched it into a fist and shouted “Company, form up and follow me.”

The unit escorted Viviane and Elizabeth to the Temple, they were quickly let inside, Valian ran through the halls of the Temple til he and his men halted, he saw the Prelate facing off against another woman, with another woman by her side.

He held his hand for his men and Viviane and Elizabeth to stop, Valian walked over “Lady Prelate, I have brought Lady Viviane, do you need help?”

Valian Stone Daubeny

The Temple

Elizabeth could feel a struggle, to songs of magic conflicting, something was wrong and Valian was taking her straight to the trouble, she could see the bright light, shooting up in a pillar as they entered the room, she heard Valian speak.

Elizabeth felt lightheaded as she got so close to the pillar, the song, was so...

Elizabeth’s mind wandered, she could feel the power from the pillar, power to create or to destroy.

She closed her eyes and saw a distant figuring glowing gold, she had never seen the figure before but she felt it was familiar.

She heard a distant voice speak “Liz...be strong.”

Elizabeth’s eyes continually flickered from teal to gold, as she felt the magic of the room wash over and through her.

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

Tatiana had dared the temple guards with her act of defiance, leaping from an adjacent rooftop to the edge of the temple dome. Yelling, the temple guards had briefly chased her from the ground below and started to accost other Slingers hanging around the temple entrance before explanations were shared. The explanations were believed when Daishi followers, also out front awaiting their leader from within the temple, supported the claims. Indeed, Duke Timsen Quasath was on the roof with permission, and had been there alone for 5 days now. His Captain, Tatiana, had broken protocol because of her loyalty and service to Timsen. She would not let him die on a roof from exposure or thirst, nor would her squad. 'That's a stupid way to die', was made official by Timsen's Slingers after a night of debate. Sacrificing himself for something greater, sure, but not keeling over from lack of water. So, Tatiana had switched to lighter gear and tied some waterskins close before making the incredible leap over Keffan streets.

Timsen, unaware of any of this, remained deep in his meditative trance, unaware as well of how much the trance had helped slow his body's deterioration He was enjoying the currents and swells of the moods and magics now, caught up in the convergence of powers.

Tatiana carefully tilted back Timsen's sunburnt head, thanking her gods that he had kept his hat on this whole time, and trickled some water down his throat. A mix of broth and water slowly followed throughout the day.

Timsen felt rejuvenated and relaxed as he floated in the magic. Truly refreshed. Truly unburdened.

Tatiana swore loudly as a mess was made.

Jacinda

Temple Square

Jacinda had lost sight of Nerta in the press, but had finally spotted Wren near the Queen herself, before a troop under banners of white and black with a golden running horse swept her friend up. She fingered the hilt of the longsword, but there were so many soldiers...

She winced, and instead made a dash for the Queen's guard. Maybe...Maybe they had done enough favours...She pulled out the token that showed her a member of the Academy, and waved down one of the retinue, frantically showing it to him.

"Please, I've done work for the Queen before, I'm a member of the Academy, you've heard of that, right? Someone's just arrested my friend, think is was a Daleswoman, just...Can you tell her steward that Wren was just arrested? Look, I've got gold, I've got..."

Her eyes widened as it occurred to her what she had that might get even a Queen's attention.

"Look, please, if it'll get the message through, give her this!"

She pulled a beautiful leather scrollcase from her pack, opened it just enough for the soldier's eyes to widen, before snapping it shut and pushing it over.

"I need to help my friend, please!"

Saoirse MacArbin

The Palace

Invitations had gone out to every noble in the city, both written and with dedicated messengers in the violet of the Grandmistress, inviting all and sundry to the palace. None were excluded from this, even those who might have been spilling blood in the streets not long ago.

To those who arrived, they were led deep into the palace proper, which still shone with its newness, and had a grandiosity about it that belied the rather small city surrounding it. And at the end of their destination, all were given soft slippers in the place of their boots or other footwear, with entry into this final room being withheld until only slippers were worn. Finally, they would be bowed in, announced, and a respectful pause given while the guest took in the room.

The entirety of Beluaterra was laid out upon the floor in beautiful marquetry, while the light of the two pillars shone into the room through glorious stained glass depicting the First Pilgrimage to Rines of the Heraldrim. The interplay of the shifting colours, the moonlight, the lamplight, and the stained glass combined to create an effect almost similar to drunkenness, with the sensation feeling almost palpable.

Saoirse waited within, in an elegant gown in her House colours, standing on the broad mountain range that began with Ren Madragas, and gave the last instruction herself to those introduced to the hall.

"All of Beluaterra lies before you, and you are welcome to any place in the room, save one: Wherever the banner of your realm holds sway, your feet should not touch. Welcome, and enjoy the evening!"

14th October

Summer Day

Cranberry Dreams

As you awake, you recall you dreamt of cranberries and the phrase "Nature, red in tooth and claw". This phrase lingers in your mind all day.

Fiorina Margaretener

"Nature red in tooth and claw." Fiorina thought to herself while walking through Keffa and somehow had the feeling she'll never leave...

Alice Schwarzherzig

The Daleish Corner

Alice, amidst the garden watched as the horrible wounds Bernard suffered rapidly closed and healed. She placed a cool, damp cloth on his forehead and as he awoke, she offered him some water.

"Rest now, gardener. Your work is not yet finished." She spoke softly to him.

"Our song is not yet finished, so I will carry the tune." She spoke, and handed him a waterskin.

"Drink. Wine, dilluted with pomegranite juice. It will help with the pain, and help you regain your strength." Alice said, leaving the piper. She began to water the plants of the garden, singing as she went, a quiet tune, almost a lullaby.

Wolves asleep amidst the trees,

Bats all a swaying in the breeze,

But one soul lies anxious wide awake,

Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths,

For your dolly Polli sleep has flown,

Don't dare let her tremble alone,

For the Dalefolk, heartless, cold,

Paid in coin of gold,

We come we'll go leave naught behind,

But heartache and woe,

Deep, deep woe,

Birds are silent for the night,

Cows turned in as daylight dies,

But one soul lies anxious wide awake,

Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths,

My dear dolly Polli shut your eyes,

Lie still, lie silent, utter no cries,

As the Dalefolk, brave and bold,

Paid in coin of gold,

We'll chop and slice you,

Cut and dice you,

Eat you up whole,

Eat you whole

Avice

The Square

Nova

Together in prayer, Avice and Genesis beseech the Goddess for It to come to Nova. Concluding their prayers, with songs echoing on the breeze, Avice begins to play the pipe once again, a Novan ode to the New Light of the Goddess.

Esdalot

The Square

Thalmarkin Grill

Guarded by many Thalmarkin soldiers, Esdalot is grilling when Jheda Orobar arrives. Inspecting the recipes, Esdalot nods in approval. Intending to examine the vials next, first he decides it is time to add more meat to the grill-altar as Elshon Geg is commanding the casks rolled up for the party.

Some followers help lift the slab of meat to the grill, when a man hiding beneath the meat jumps up and attacks Esdalot with a dagger. Inexplicably, an assassin had successfully infiltrated, concealed beneath bloody slabs of meat brought for the ritual.

Esdalot parries the dagger with his grilling fork, but to no avail, the dagger eventually cuts him too deeply, and he falls collapsed to the ground, wounded, Thalmarkin's ritual left vulnerable. Fortunately, Jheda the Grillmaster had arrived just in time.

Bernard

The Square

Irondale Gardens, Before Ryosuke's and Sadona's Arrivals

Bernard's eyes grew wide at Alice Schwarzherzig, then grew morose again, yet with a glint of hope.

With reflection, "A cycle indeed. You are blessed with Divine Insight to mention it now. Many forget the cycle between life and death though, do you know of them too?" Bernard's voice grew hopeful towards the end.

Bernard whispered quietly to himself, "Beauty...beauty", lost in thought.

"Reality is beautiful indeed, Ambassador," Bernard finally says. He begins playing a peaceful tune on the bagpipes.

Ehrich Weisz

Keffa

The palace invitation

A dedicated scholar could often go a year without attending a single party and now Ehrich found himself attending two nearly successively. After the high spirits of the Vales' Maypole celebrations Ehrich re fastened his neck tie and top button, which he had loosened in a moment of excess only overshadowed by the old warrior Arjan..

The new palace was bound to be a more refined affair and he sipped wine in a restrained manner. The host appeared to be encouraging guests to mix outside their own realms. This was easy with good friends in Obia, not least the esteemed Grandmistress Saoirse herself who he greeted warmly when opportunity allowed. But it was also a chance to put names to faces with others known from the diplomatic circuit from Thalmarkin, Ar Agyr, Irondale and beyond (though the later regime appeared much changed from his day). Nova and Nothoi appeared to be fairly sparsely represented at this moment, but the chance to consult the venerable Yao Ling was always to be looked forward to. Even the Vorduls had interesting persons still to be greeted.. only the other night he had dreamed inexplicably of Duke Timsen the solitary Daishi of Vordul.

Uncertain who would be in attendance, Duke Ehrich tried to mix in good humour, with a keen ear for any learned opinions on what might be expected to happen next. He also wistfully hoped it might be a chance to meet with his oldest but somewhat estranged friend Kethan, who he was at pains to extend his best wishes to before any from the Obian delegation.

Alice Schwarzherzig

The Square

Irondale Gardens, Before Ryosuke's and Sadona's Arrivals

Alice closed her eyes as Bernard played. She sat down, listening to the bagpipes.

"I know of them, Gentle Bernard, but only a fool claims their knowledge to be complete." She spoke softly.

"Perhaps you could teach me more. We are born, we live, we die, and often enough, we rise. What comes between life and death? Why do we rise again, only to bring more death?" She mused, admiring a flower.

"Are we perennials? We sprout and blossom, and then recede into the ground only to do it all over again? Or are we like annuals? We are planted, we grow, we blossom, and then wither and die, never to bloom again, except maybe as an undead weed, spreading our kind and killing the other flowers?"

Ehrich Weisz

The Temple

Modestly attired, alone and unarmed Ehrich paid a respectful visit to the temple site. He had come to the city first and foremost to chronicle the event (and for his own ambitions to learn what more he could of arcane and raw magic power). He approached the Obian guards respectfully and as they were about to turn him aside he produced a letter of permission to behold the beam of light at closer quarters from the Grandmistress Saoirse no less; a personal friend he assured them proudly. As one not of the Obeah faith he was not sure how far that extended but he contented himself with the role of most civil tourist and was respectfully guided as close as permitted to reflect upon the portal lights in profound silence. He had only briefly seen the flashing lights of a failed portal once before, and that day the golden colour had seemed most important in preventing untoward entities corrupting the ritual so he meditated on the golden light first, then the red which has featured in the latest dreams, before focusing on the green which he hoped favoured his comrades' current ritual. Making sure there were no signs forbidding the taking of pictures he lastly took out a sketch book and pastels to try and capture some impression of the awesome spectacle.

Gavin

The Square - Shattered Vales Quarter

Gavin had awoken from his dream filled sleep in a pile of comfortable leaves under a mighty oak tree. For once filled with purpose, other than where he might obtain his next drink, he headed over to the Vales nobility again. This time he was surprised to get a better welcome and rather than being punched or at least being looked like like a piece of dung, he was allowed to wander to the shrine of flowers. Seeing the smiling face of Dame Delores he sheepishly approached her. "If I may be so bold, I have brought more gifts for the shrine", he said. The lady nodded eagerly and Gavin searched his pack until he found a set of mighty eagle claws and a huge wild boar tooth. "Our goddess liked the flowers so maybe she'll like these?" he shrugged "the only red I have is beast man blood and that doesn't seem right?"

Bernard

The Square

Irondale Garden

Sadona approaches with a bloody dagger. It must be the blood of one of the Others, Bernard thinks. A piper, Sadona says. Ah, so it must be Avice, Bernard thinks. She was the only one playing the pipe that he had heard.

Taking the bloody dagger, still dripping, Bernard sprinkles the crimson drops throughout the garden, fertilizing the soil. When the droplets fail to come, he uses it as a spade.

Joining Alice to discuss from where her song lyrics originate, Ryosuke joins them with hearty greeting.

Bernard answers, 'Yes, things have been quite safe, we've planted and were just staaaAAAAAAARRR!!" Bernard begins screaming as bones burst out of his skin and he collapses wounded, Irondale's ritual vulnerable.

Fortunately, Bernard heals as magically as he was wounded, limiting the effectiveness of the ritual-interruption and allowing the ritual to quickly recover from the vulnerability, waking in Alice's care.

Rituals

Obia's stones glowed brightest, though had not changed any. Irondale's garden glowed second brightest, having grown brighter than before. The Vales' shrine glowed third brightest, having grown brighter than before. Vordul's ritual-energy was still dissipating. Thalmarkin's grill-altar had continued to glow brighter than before. Nothoi's vulnerable pyramid of animals had gotten brighter, some said. It seemed a matter of slight degree some could see and others could not. Nova's was the least bright and had not changed any.

Kristina Chamberlain

Temple

Disembodied as she was the cold rush of fatigue still had her nauseated as what she had hoped would be a rainshower, was a deluge flooding from the column and thanks to Yao Ling down the steps of the temple.

Wretched she felt the warmth of Moiras words as she worked to soothe her. Standing unsteadily again, she felt waves of drspair as she saw the stains of the blood rituals in the conduit.

"But, Moira, if I release the conduit as it is... there are no garuantees that..." she stopped, the enormity of the very human hubris and folly of the conduit crashing like awakening from a nightmare and realising it was real. They had undertaken this ritual based in faith and her understanding from an ancient foreign text. It was a work of faith that had become an exercise of blind hope. Faith had to be the key, to seeing this become what it should be, not the actions of these three women. The ritual must be completed and she must simply pray that the outcomes were as they should be.

She had always been a woman of deep faith. Her dismay was an arrogant and human frailty, and something she must learn from, rather than shy away from. The realisation was like a weight lifted from her chest and she felt a lightness akin to euphoria. The Goddess knew all that would happen, She knew the crisis of faiths that would result from this effort, and She knew they would prevail.

She gripped Moira's hand, "You, are right Moira... I am sorry."

Reaching out she began to pluck at the silvery strings, feeling the waves and resonances like the music of a harp. She thought of Elizabeth Daubney, she heard the songs of music far more clearly than most accolytes, though it was seldom that human hands controlled how those songs were played. As she plucked at the edges she felt a wave of euphoria once again as she knew instinctively that there were three of them now, herself, the Lady Viviane and Elizabeth. She turned again to Moira.

"You do us great service, Moira. I will be in your debt for this."

Turning back to the net she plucked at the strings singing the song of invocation:

Beloved Obeah, of the silvered Moon,

Mistress of mysteries, Keeper of the Veil,

We call upon thee with voices three,

Maiden, Mother, Crone,

Beloved Mother of the Whitend woods,

Grandest of Magi, enthroned in stars.

We call upon thee, with voices three,

Descend from your throne in our secret delight.

Beloved Obeah, Spinner of fates,

Strongest custodian, keeper of gates,

We call upon thee with voices three,

Grant us your wisdom and open our eyes.

Mother of Magic, grant us your grace,

Weaver of dreams, and flame of destiny,

We call upon thee, with voices three,

Maiden, Mother, Crone."

She allowed a brief glance to Moira, her blade cutting and absorbing the untamed spells that sought to corrupt the flow. Buoyed by the presence of friends so strong in both spirit and spirituality, she reached for the last thread and gave the conduit release...

Valian Stone Daubeny

Temple

Valian approached, he kept his hand raised and his soldiers did not advance “PRELATE WHAT IS HAPPENING?” He shouted as he rushed into the room.

He wasn’t certain about the scene he was watching unfurl but he would not sit idle in it.

Rufus

The Square - Shattered Vales Corner

Rufus sobbed at the kindness and interest Dolores extended to an eccentric (and possibly fratricidal) common monk. He danced and chanted with glee at the celebration until he collapsed exhausted.

On top of the old - new – born not reborn riddle sending him cross eyed – his dreams fixated on the phrase "Nature red in tooth and claw". The crafty Gavin was first to react and made good offerings. Teeth and claws he muttered – digging through his own pockets and producing a monsters claw and dragons tooth as humble offerings for the altar. Something red he seemed to struggle with too until it dawned on him - Rufus the red monk – red of hair – robes- and burn marks – he was as red as a man can be!

He prostrated himself at the base of the organic shrine – entangling himself in briars brambles and roses – imagining they were growing around him as he rolled into the thorns - bleeding. Let your plants drink deep of my reddest blood to boost our ritual!

A friend of mine grows his very own brambles

They twist all around him 'til he can't move

Beautiful – quivering - chivalrous shambles

What is my friend trying to prove?

And there he remained quietly chanting –envisaging becoming one with the plants

Rosko Nabarl

The Square

Thalmarkin Grill

The assassin may have managed to get inside the ring of soldiers without being noticed under a hunk of meat, but they were certainly noticed now and quickly apprehended.

Rosko sent some of his healers to assist Esdalot whilst he looked at the assassin.

”Judgement is clear here, you are guilty of attempted murder, perhaps murder itself, time will tell on that. The punishment would be the same though, and as we have a ritual going on, and a priest amongst us, your execution may as well serve a better purpose, to have done something of use with it before it is given away.”

Betty

The Temple

Betty led Luto and his troupe of dancing humans and animals around to the western gate of the Obian temple.

She waved at the guard standing at the top of the steps and smiled as she strode up them with a carefree stride that she really hoped hid the butterflies in her stomach.

Yao Ling had permission to be here. She was grandfathered in, and the guard absolutely remembered her. She could see that in the way he followed her progress.

But she really wasn't certain how she would going to convince him to let all these other people in.

So she just smiled and said "Hey."

The guard looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and then looked over at the people behind her with a doubtful look.

"You wouldn't believe the day I've had," Betty added with a shrug.

And that was when the temple threw up on her.

Betty squawked in outraged shock as the cold water spouted out of the temple gate hard enough to blow her clean off her feet.

She slid down the stairs hard enough to jar her teeth, and was pretty sure she saw stars. She shook her head, blinked the water out of her eyes, and looked around her. The dancing troupe was just as soaked as her, though they hadn't gotten the full blast of water. And the blast of water had already slowed down to something far more gentle. Then she saw the guard moaning next to the gate. He'd been blown off his feet as well.

Betty scrambled up the stairs to check him out, and was relieved to see he didn't appear to have broken anything permanent. Good.

Then she turned to Luto and waved towards the open gate. "Well? What are you waiting for? The coast's clear. Get in there and help!"

Luto aimed a questioning look towards the open gate and Betty started rattling off directions. The stairs. The corners. The portal chamber. All the highlights. Then she saw something that brought her words to a halt. She chuckled, shook her head, and pointed at the rather uncommon sight.

"Or you can just follow the dancing mice. They know the way."

Luto blinked in her general direction.

"Trust me. I've already followed them once today."

Luto looked at her.

Betty waved at the guard. "I'll be along quickly. Just gonna make sure he's okay."

Luto looked at her.

"What? He's a nice guy."

Luto sighed and turned into the temple.

Betty turned her attention to the guard. She checked his breathing. His pulse. Pulled his eyes open. Let them shut again. Checked all of his limbs to make certain they were good.

And when he wouldn't respond to her gentle attempts to wake him, she pulled out a packet of smelling salts. She broke them open to see they were soaked too. She sighed and just rubbed them under his nose.

They crumbled in her fingers, but the strong smell still woke him with a start.

"Hey," Betty said as he spluttered beneath her. "You wouldn't believe the day I've had."

Then she grabbed him firmly and pulled him to his feet.

"It's not every day a temple throws up on me, you know."

He looked a bit confused, then glanced down at the slow river still coming out of the temple. He frowned, as if a memory was returning.

Betty really hoped he wasn't remembering there had been more of her before the temple threw up on them all.

"Look, I need to get back down there," Betty said with a wave towards the gate and the stairs beyond. "You keep watch here, keep all the bad guys out, and I'll be back later, okay?" she finished with her very best smile. And a pose that emphasized her very drenched self.

He smiled back and nodded in agreement.

"Seeya," Betty said and stepped back into the temple.

Alice Schwarzherzig

The Daleish Corner - after Ryosuke and Sadona's arrival

Alice continued watering the gardens and singing. The lyrics stopped making sense, but in time it became clear the words were an incantation. A puff of air rose up over Alice and made its way to Bernard, reinvigorating him.

Alice continued her work, thoroughly enjoying the greenery. She had spent a long time in the deserts around Heen and the city itself, so such a lush garden was a treat for her. She sang some more and once again a puff of air rose up, making its way to Bernard, its energies bringing life to the Gardener.

Yao Ling Pryde

The Temple

Yao Ling looked around her at the dripping, glistening walls in the basement of the temple. Water still flowed out of the portal, though it was a far gentler flow now than it had been a first.

Water still dripped off her beautiful armor. The guards looked just as wet as she.

And the magical flow continued to shoot a lesser amount of water out of the room. But at least it was no longer flooding.

The guards looked at her with questioning gazes.

"What?" Yao Ling said as she attempted her best innocent pose. "I call this an absolute win."

Valian Stone Daubeny

Temple

Valian didn’t get an answer he did see water rush forward and jumped to the side, pressing his back against the wall “EVERYONE GRAB ONTO SOMETHING NOW!”

The unit all grabbed onto the pillars or hid in alcoves in the hallway.

Valian and Captain Tomasa held onto to Elizabeth and Viviane respectively and when the water stopped flowing Valian let Elizabeth go and sighed, his armour drilling with water, he stepped back into the room.

He looked as much confused as he did annoyed at his sudden soaked armour and the equally soaked room.

He walked into the room, his feet splashing on the wet floor.

“Why In Obeah’s name did this room just flood?”

Vahanian Blint

The Palace

Vahanian had been given enough time to quick wash his face and change his clothes before the Grandmistress's gathering. Though he loathed parties, they were a security nightmare, he would have to make an appearance.

Vahanian stalked around the edge of the grand ballroom like a wolf hunting prey. The Grandmistress's aides had repeatedly insisted on Vahanian giving up his boots in favor of slippers. He had threatened and cursed at each and everyone of them. After nearly 30 minutes of the back and forth the aides relinquished their argument after Vahanian had promised to stick to the outer edge of the room, unless an emergency erupted. He, had however, conceded enough to change into his nicest boots, a pair that the Holy Oracle had ordered made for him many years ago and presented as a gift during his brief stint as a priest of the faith. They were nearly identical to the slippers, with one major difference. He wouldn't slide around the room like he was ice skating.

As he moved around the room, watching those assembled file in and mingle, his eyes flicked to the fringes of the room and the rafters. Templar guards, mixed with Saiorse's honor-guard stood as sentinels and peacekeepers, as well as archers in the rafters, should their need arise. Vahanian had invested heavily in the reconstruction of Keffa and her palace, and in fact had given the guildmasters and craftsmen quite a headache at all his demands to upgrade and increase security.

His eyes caught Saoirse and she smiled at him until she glanced at his feet. Obviously noticing the difference in footwear her smile faded and was replaced with a reprimanding look. Vahanian gave her a wolfish grin and jerked his head towards the line of nobles streaming in, before he bowed his head to her and returned to his patrol. He was sure he'd catch one hell of a reprimanding later, but that would be worth it, it would mean she was alive and safe enough to reprimand him.

He stifled a chuckle as some nobles started to slip and slide across the map room floor. A few chuckles erupted among the growing crowd as well as some childish shrieks of laughter. He heard a familiar laugh and could have sworn he caught the faintest scent.. He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes scanning the crowd with intensity. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. It was impossible, wasn't it?

Baldwin, his captain, slid next to Vahanian and said in a low tone. "Your Grace, are you alright?" Vahanian looked at him, concern and confusion written on his face as he shook his head to clear it and said "I thought I heard...Nevermind. Yes. I'm fine. What is it?" Baldwin looked at him with concern and said "Something is happening in the Temple, I'm not sure what." Vahanian nodded, rubbing his arm where the portal shards were embedded beneath the skin and said "Yes, I feel it too.." Baldwin continued "Suri has made contact. She's arrived in the realm, and is scouting the outer regions." Vahanian nodded. "Recall her to the city. I need to speak with her."

Baldwin bowed and left while Vahanian continued to roam the perimeter of the map room and study the growing crowd.

Yao Ling Pryde

The Temple

"Why in Obeah's name did this room just flood?"

Yao Ling spun to take the man in and tried to remember when he'd entered the room. There was way too much going on for her to keep track of everything. She didn't know him. But he obviously belonged here, or the guards would have confronted him.

"Sorry," Yao Ling said and slipped the icon of Atlas back into her glistening and very clean armor as she held her magic wolf sword high. "That was me. Kinda."

She waved a hand at Kristina and Moira, frozen as they were before the column of light. "There's way too much free magic roaming around this portal right now. Blood magic. Death magic. Undead magic. People have been throwing everything at it in an attempt to destabilize it. We're trying to drain it off before it explodes all over us. Yay."

The sword had gone cold in her hand as she sent the water out, but now it was getting warm again. Moira was sending more energy her way, and she had to find something to do with it.

"On the plus side, there's no more blood and guts in here! And the smell! Nothing smells as good as mountain fresh water you know! Or otherworld fresh. Wherever this came from."

She was babbling. Yao Ling put a cork in it and looked at the sword again. It was getting hot now. She really needed to dissipate this magic. Heat. Yeah. She was cold right now. Shivering in fact. Heat would do wonders. She slipped her hand in her armor, found the cowled icon of Daishi, and visualized one of Daishi's companions.

"Salamander, hear me now," she whispered under her breath and sent heat energy radiating into the room and beyond.

She was just in time as another figure entered the room through another entrance. The temple guards moved to intercept him, and Yao Ling licked her lips. Why now? Why had he picked this moment to answer her call? But she couldn't stop now.

The show much go on.

"Luto!" Yao Ling shouted in a bright and shiny voice, as if his arrival was the best thing in all the worlds. "Kristina was HOPING you'd get here in time!"

The guards stopped and looked her way in confusion. They couldn't remember Kristina talking about this man, but they hadn't really heard everything the three women had been talking about as they'd been conspiring in front of the column.

Yao Ling gave them her very best smile, as if she had nothing to hide in all the worlds. Oh gods. She was going to have so much explaining to do when Kristina woke up.

Then she saw the line of mice doing the cha cha as they entered the room. Followed by more dancers of both human and animal kind. And musicians too. Yao Ling belatedly realized she'd been hearing music for a bit. How long? She couldn't remember. Everything had been a bit surreal since the water came through. Since way before that actually. The magic here was... truly intoxicating.

Her mind was wandering. She put a cork in that, too, and just went with the flow.

"And everyone else, TOO!" Yao Ling shouted in her very best joyful tone. Oh gods. Kristina was going to be so... "Kristina will be so HAPPY you all made it!"

The sword was getting hot again. What went best with dancing? And music? Light. Yeah. Light would work.

Yao Ling released the figure of Daishi in her pocket and reached for Atlas again.

"Flashman, help me in my hour of need," she whispered with all of her fervent faith.

And then she radiated multicolored light throughout the room and beyond. In time to the music and dancing. With a smile. Because why not?

The show must go on.

Valian Stone Daubeny

Temple

Valian’s unit moved into the room and Valian turned to the temple guards “The Riot Guard will take over protecting the column, you are dismissed.”

One of the Temple guard began to speak up but Valian slammed the man across the face with his gauntlet “I SAID Stand Down”

The Temple Guard left after that as the fifty two soldiers of the Ossmat Riot Guard moved into the room, setting up and closing the door behind them, barring it and forming defences.

Valian walked over to the noblewoman who claimed to flood the room “Very well Lady, I fear I don’t know your name, I am Sir Valian Stone, I assume you are here at the Prelate’s behest, you say the magic is destabilising the pillar?”

Valian looked solemnly at the pillar of otherworldly light “What do you need to make this work?”

Valian looked at Elizabeth who sat down near one of the walls, he noted the flickering gold in her eyes, he felt sad for her, the magic around here must surely be weighing heavily on the poor girl’s soul.

Ehrich Weisz

The Square

The Shattered Vales Quarter

After an early morning tour of the temple, Ehrich was ushered out by increasingly agitated temple curates. Probably there was some private ceremony due, but as he left he thought he heard commotion and running water; perhaps some form of plumbing problem? The newly built city had offered the Obian's the chance to incorporate some of the most modern architectural innovations after all..

Ehrich had already had the chance to behold with wonder the vivid colours of the beam of light closer than before so he had much to ponder when he returned to the Vales' encampment and he set himself to making copious notes in his journal. When writing up Dolores' most recent address he considered her cryptic words,

"Neither new or reborn. Born to us. Not new, but new to us. Not reborn, yet born again."

More mysticism with understanding beyond his reach. The Duke tried to attribute various interpretations but all seemed imperfect. Overall it was unclear whether the beam of light was influencing those gathered, or if their competing interests risked polluting its essence. Ehrich resolved to try and find a positive interpretation for his next offering and sent his chief scout out with very specific instructions on what to gather from the wilderness. The scout returned late in the day with a handful of encased butterfly chrysalis carefully gathered from varied colourful species. These were the latest offering to Dolores and accompanying the chrysalis he offered a scroll representing their protective phase of change, hoping the emergent bright colours might help their natural shrine thrive and represent positive and vibrant change.

Anyte Luitolf

After everything that had happened in the square, Anyte was glad to finally get an invitation to a real event. While she was no stranger to blood or death, they were not her purpose here. The Grandmistress had invited Anyte personally to Obia only for chaos to be reigning in the streets when she arrived. Thankfully, hopefully, all of this was behind them as Anyte and her matrons approached the newly build palace. The last thing that was needed now was for it to all reerrupt inside.

Anyte marveled at the palace before entering. It was far larger than she would have expected for such a city, and she found herself wondering where Obia would have gotten all the gold for it. Statues and monuments she had seen before, but something on this scale, and so new, was somewhat inspiring. As they approached the entrance, Anyte turned to Allova, the lighter haired and eyed of her companions.

"Allova, do me a favor. Go and find our fellow Kin and inform them that if they are coming to this meeting, they should meet somewhere and come together and to be civil. If they don't, then don't fight in the middle of the street like Dancer. He and I will need to talk when we get back to the mountains."

"Of course mistress, but what about you?" Allova asked.

"Worry not, Isemay will accompany me inside. Besides, I doubt I am in any real danger here."

As Allova went to complete her task, Anyte and her dark-haired companion Isemay started to make their way down the long hall that lead deeper into the palace. It wasn't before too long that they were announced to the few people that had arrived before her, and told the rules. They were not allowed to stand anywhere "their banner held sway". The question was, did they mean personal or realm banner? Anyte didn't ask, but instead kept quiet and slowly made her way to where Avengmil was on the map.

For Jorn.

15th October

Summer Day

Gray Dreams

You dream not in colour, but in shades of black and white. When you awaken, you feel weary.

Yao Ling Pryde

Yao Ling scanned the commotion in the chamber, studying the newcomer's methods. Watching him remove the previous guards from the room, even as he did nothing to interrupt the rituals taking place here. This was a smart man. A dangerous man. One who could do great damage to everything she was trying to do here, if he decided to. And one who was far more immune to bluffs than the previous temple guards had been.

Yao Ling suddenly wanted Kristina to wake up sooner rather than later. She glanced at Luto as he directed the ritual dancers and musicians, then scanned to see that Betty had made it in before the entrances were closed off.

She smiled at the mice doing the can can on a table. Because of course they were. What was a dangerous situation without a bit of whimsy thrown in for good measure.

The gods truly were filled with humor.

The newcomer walked over to her with a solemn expression. “Very well Lady, I fear I don’t know your name, I am Sir Valian Stone, I assume you are here at the Prelate’s behest, you say the magic is destabilizing the pillar?”

Valian turned to the pillar of otherworldly light “What do you need to make this work?”

Then his gaze turned to a young woman sitting down near one of the walls, where she could avoid the dancers and musicians.

Yao Ling focused on her. She wasn't taking part in any of the rituals at all, and gold flecks flickered in her eyes. Magic flowed through and around her. And one of the mice was looking at her.

Yao Ling blinked, and scanned the room for more mice. There. Another. Still. Looking. Yao Ling followed its gaze towards another woman. Yao Ling replayed the last few seconds in her mind. Viviane. The newcomer had called her Lady Viviane while Yao Ling had been busy playing water weaver.

"Her," Yao Ling said with a wave of her free hand in Viviane's direction. Then she pointed out Luto and the girl against the wall. "And them. And I think that piper who's been following me around."

Yao Ling shrugged in Valian's direction. "He has an uncanny ability to disappear and reappear at the oddest moments, you understand."

The sword was growing hot again and she looked over towards where Kristina and Moira still stood, silent and still. She could feel the ritual closing through her link with Moira's sword.

"It's coming," Yao Ling whispered. "We must welcome it well, or all will suffer. Gods forbid it comes through cranky because we just pulled it out of a particularly enjoyable game of pee knuckle."

Then she smiled and burned off more magic by sending another pulse of rainbow light through the temple.

Because the show must go on...

Valian Stone Daubeny

Temple

Valian’s right hand instinctively went to his mace on his belt as the woman said she would need Elizabeth “My niece? Most certainly not.”

Elizabeth looked up, her young eyes lighting up with curiosity, she stood and walked over and curtsied to the woman “Elizabeth Stone Daubeny, at your service, what is needed of me?”

The girl was young, in her preteens easily maybe 9-8. Valian looked at Elizabeth in shock “Liz, no.” He all but hissed.

As the rainbow light pulses past Elizabeth, she wobbled on her legs and her eyes began to glow gold, the glow lasted only a few seconds before Elizabeth straightened and gave the woman and her uncle a smile.

Yao Ling Pryde

"Hello Elizabeth," Yao Ling said with a smile. "I am Yao Ling Pryde, and I am very pleased to meet you. And to be honest, just between you and me, I have no idea what is needed of you. If I'd planned this, I never would have called on dancers and musicians for instance. Or dancing mice."

She laughed softly at that bit.

"I'm just going with the flow and helping where I can. Something tells me you can too. And I hope you know how that is."

Valian Stone Daubeny

Temple

Elizabeth smiled and nodded “I think I could help, maybe...”

Valian spoke up “No I protest my niece will have no part of this.”

Elizabeth stood on her toes and looked Valian as close to his eyes as she could “If I can help, then I will and you can’t stop me this time Uncle.” Elizabeth’s voice resonated as if she spoke with two voices.

Her eyes were teary but her expression was stern and clearly she would not stand down.

Valian sighed and nodded, Elizabeth smiled “Miss Pryde could I have a scroll? I wish to use it in my prayer.”

Esotheria

Esotheria has spent her days ear glued to the grapevine waiting for more outrageous tales, her private games of Pee Knuckle so far unsattisfactory.

Yao Ling Pryde

Temple

“Of course,” Yao Ling said in a friendly tone, and pulled a scroll out for the girl.

When the girl had taken it, she stepped back and leaned in closer to Valian.

“How does she do that?” Yao Ling asked in a very serious tone.

Valian Stone Daubeny

Temple

Valian raised an eyebrow to Yao and quietly asked “Do what?”

Elizabeth ran up to the pillar sloshing through the lightly running water.

She knelt down before the pillar and opened the scroll, she began to read the incantation, her voice sounded like a song as her voice resonated through the room, her eyes fully glowing gold.

Rufus

The Square - The Shattered Vales shrine - tangled in a thorn bush

Still lying on his back amongst the thorns the hermit monk had a great view of the skies. Plenty of black ravens around like from the dream !- but with no white to off set them ? - The monk rummaged his pockets for a hangful of corn and started cooing like a dove so that their white would keep the grey in balance. Wrapped in the brambles a Singing Bush cooing for doves seemed odd to bystanders - all that was missing was an Invisible Swordsman - or was he.. When he turned his head to try and look he felt fresh blood trickle down his neck

Summer Evening

Xenith

Xenith staggers into the square, a mug of ale in his right hand. Taking a swig, he takes a deep breath, to make sure his voice is loud enough to be heard over all of the commotion.

"ALICE!!!!! ALICE SWARZH...…. or whatever the devil you gods forsaken family name is. You are scum! The filth of the earth. A dog! You think you are big and bad while you hide behind your men, imprison me, and rob me and take my fingers and torture me. I may be lowborn, and a peasant, but I am more of person that you will ever be. I hope the crows eat your cursed eyes out of your head while you scream."

A man reaches from the crowd and tries to pull Xenith back in amongst the people, be he just shrugs him off and continues.

"Let go of me blast it, Im not done!" Xenith turns his attention back to yelling. "You thought you could have the last laugh by executing me, but the jokes on you, you pile of pig intestines. I escaped your dungeons, Im alive! And not only that, I think I accidentally killed your mother the other day when I was clearing out a hive of monsters."

Xenith bellows a laugh, amused by him own joke. The same man from before grabs Xenith's arm and begins pulling him into the crowd.

Xenith yells, "You get it, because your mother was laying with beasts!"

He continues to laugh as he is being pulled into the crowd.

"Alright alright Im coming" Xenith says, and he and his companion disappear into the crowd.

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

Seven days. Timsen had been meditating and spiritually digging into the earth for a full week now. Timsen would be stunned to learn that fact, for he had no concept of time in his state. Tatiana, his loyal captain, was well aware of her leader's state and condition. She had kept vigil over Timsen since leaping to his side on the temple roof almost two days ago. Water and broth for Timsen, and regular fare for Tatiana, she heaved up by rope when needed. Blankets, wood and rope made a decent shelter around and over Timsen. The Obian temple guards and the Slingers amiably passed the time gambling and carousing when off duty. It was much quieter now.

Tatiana had watched from the roof as nobles and their entourages slowly filtered out from the square, the temple area and the streets, congregating towards the brightly lit palace. Left behind were the hardcore participants and their various realm and/or religious rituals. The blood, offal and waste had been mostly cleaned up in the streets and in general the chaos had faded away. Tatiana could actually appreciate more of the city now, and enjoyed the rooftop view.

Timsen rode the currents of power in Keffa and simultaneously channeled them down, using the double helix shape of the Joy and the Green like an auger in the earth.

Yao Ling Pryde

The Temple

Yao Ling looked at Valian for a long moment. Then she shrugged. If he didn't want to talk about it, then he didn't want to talk about it.

And if he didn't want to talk about it because he didn't want to think about it, forcing him to think about it right now, would do no good to anybody.

So she smiled.

"I hope she likes ponies. Because I just gave her a scroll of magic steeds. And unlike most kids her age, she might actually be able to pull it off."

Valian Stone Daubeny

Temple

Valian looked at Yao Ling as she smiled, he gave a small smile back, she looked nice enough, Valian turned his gaze back to Elizabeth, he nodded in her direction.

“I have no clue how she does it, all I know is what she has told me, she can her magic as some sort of music, able to understand its best and melody and the emotion behind the magic, I think she sees something when she does, visions of something, something that frightens her more often then not.”

Valian looked up towards the pillar, his hand on his mace “She feels the magic in the air around her, she is almost like a conduit for it, she is sensitive to it and it has a noticeable effect on her, namely the strange voice and her glowing eyes, I hear it’s not that different to her Uncle, Marcus Daubeny, I am told he ruled Obia’Syela for a short while, a couple months or so.”

Elizabeth’s voice rose in volume, she was singing the incantation and the air around her felt tingly.

She could hear some of the adults talking but she focused her mind on the music, it was please t if a bit cacophonous, she tried to direct it to sound more calm by adding her voice to the cacophonous chorus.

Valian Stone Daubeny

Temple

Elizabeth sang the incantation of the scroll but the cacophony of the Pillar drowned out her voice.

The scroll pulsed with a gold light and the magic fizzled around before stopping.

Elizabeth mouthed the incantation and then said “AH, I misspoke this word.”

Elizabeth sung the Incantation again but this time she felt something was wrong, the cacophony turned back against her voice and she felt the magic fail.

Elizabeth dropped the scroll and clutches her head as pain overwhelmed her, she let out a scream of pain as golden lightning arced off her as she fell to her knees.

She heard Valian scream “LIZ!!!”

Valian ran forward to help her but was thrown back from her when he got close.”

The screaming and magic only lasted a minute before Elizabeth stopped and she lay on the floor crying.

Valian got back up and ran back over towards her.

Yao Ling Pryde

Temple

"It took me a lifetime to learn to feel magic like that," Yao Ling said slowly. Then she looked at the pillar of light. "That thing is a whirlpool of magic. Intertwined and flowing. Bright. Beautiful. I don't know how Kristina managed to focus that much magic in one place and then NOT have it go off instantly. But its stable in a way I've never seen. And if I can see that, I can guarantee that wherever it goes, there will be others who can see it too."

Yao Ling turned back to Valian and let out a long breath. It was time to be clear. "I never would have tried something like this. And I don't know what's coming through that thing when it opens. But every bit of blood magic and murder committed out there has affected this thing. Gustav nearly destabilized it when he walked right into it. And each of those things sent a ringing bell through... here... there... possibly places in between. Calling things to it. Things that like our blood. Things that we really wouldn't want coming through, especially not in the middle of a city. The last time a portal like this manifested in Keffa, it blew a hole in the city. We're standing in it right now. If this thing were to blow now, it might be worse."

Yao Ling shook her head, and then waved the hot sword in her hand towards Luto and his troupe of dancers and musicians. "I'm seeking to calm it. To bring joy and love and fun to this. To celebrate it. To spread welcome and warmth and life. To call to something out there that wants that instead."

The sword pulsed in her hand as it received another breath of magic from Moira and Yao Ling couldn't safely hold it any more. She had to let it go. So she let out another pulse of radiant, multicolored light throughout the temple and beyond.

16th October

Summer Day

Yxevarii Auru'in

As the chaos dies down somewhat, Yxevarii hurries toward Grand Mistress Saoirse - ignoring everything and everyone else between them.

"My child, where are the Hand and Seed? We must join Kristina in securing the Nexus, before these outlander fools bring ruin to us all! If you're unsure, then give me the Hand and I will channel It in your stead..."

The Grand Inquisitor looks to Saoirse inquisitively, her gaze blade-sharp and mind set on results.

Ehrich Weisz

The Square

The Shattered Vales Corner

After a couple of days of introverted study, finally something constructive to do arrived, an Imperial request no less. Gathering his reagents and favoured alchemical instruments he set about the casting of a favoured magical scroll and sent our positive energy to try and mend and unite the collective spirit his Emperor had been fostering. First the energies were difficult to harness, but resolving himself to the task eventually the healing energy flowed.

Yao Ling Pryde

Temple

Yao Ling watched the magical steeds rise up from the scroll and strike out at the child who tried to summon them. They lashed out in anger and desperation, striking her down with hooves of lightning.

Yao Ling had rarely seen a summon go so wrong, and wondered why these steeds were so desperate to not do what the girl had wanted. Or was it that there was something else they wanted to do?

Yao Ling still did not know why she had brought that scroll to Keffa. "Because it was there" was the easy answer. But she'd always had a feeling it had a reason for being here. She'd thought in the moment that it might be this girl. Perhaps she was wrong. But the desperation with which they fought the summoning suggested that she was still right in part. They were here for a reason.

Yao Ling reached into her pocket and held the icon of Atlas in one hand. Then she stepped in with the wolf sword in her other hand and broke the enchantment rising above the girl with a single, swift slice.

The magical steeds whinnied in defiance, wheeled around, and charged into the column of light.

Interesting. So they had not been here to take someone away from Keffa. Very interesting indeed.

The sword burned her hand and she released another flash of rainbow light into the temple and beyond.

Because no matter what happened, the show must go on.

Then she blinked, shook herself out of the magical trance, and moved to the crying child and the uncle already comforting her.

She harnessed the feelings of love and joy coming from the ritual behind her, tightened her grip on the icon of Atlas, and whispered a prayer.

"Shugenja, comfort them."

Then she focused that love and joy on the man and child before her as the column continued to glow beyond them.

Antonia Fitz Roberts

The Chancellery

Antonia had long since got bored with all this ritual nonsense. She had wanted nothing to do with it in the first place, but as a resident of the city and a government member to boot she had considered it her duty to at least have a gander. Her suspicions had been confirmed, it was nothing but distracting nonsense from her daily duties. So she had quietly left the square, spent some days converting more Daishi to the one true faith and had then decided to reorganize the realm's bureaucracy. She was currently sitting in her office overseeing the busy ants of the civil servants, all of whom had been banned from looking out the window at the ongoing nonsense outside

She leaned back in her chair, picking up a report about mill output in the South. Someone had to take responsibility for the day to day running of the realm whilst the rest of the government leaders were pratting about. Who would have ever thought it would be Antonia? Clearly living next to all those civil servants in the Old Grand Basilica had rubbed off on her

17th October

Summer Day

Saoirse MacArbin

The Palace

Saoirse rolled her eyes as Vahanian resumed his obvious patrol, stalking around the outskirts like a hungry panther, if panthers wore boots. But, that would either keep the violence contained, or at worst, one-sided.

"Ehrich! It is so good to see you, especially at a time like this. How are you finding the ducal life?"

She gave him a firm armclasp, as silly as that might seem with a long-sleeve tucked into her glove, and a warm smile as she took in the older man.

Anyte's arrival caught her notice while she listened to her old friend, and after conversing for a few minutes and extracting a promise for more of his time later, she moved south. Skirting along the borders of the Vales in the roguelands to the east, before making her way to the old Obian lands, she eventually arrived in Avengmil, giving a deep nod to the woman who matched the descriptions she had been given of the one-time Obian.

"Duchess, I am glad you joined us. You are welcome here."

She gave a rather somber smile, her unnaturally stiff left glove glasped in her right hand before her.

Yao Ling Pryde

The Temple

The ritual continued to close. Had closed? Was closing soon? It was hard to tell exactly what was going on inside the portal that may be. Was? Would be? Would something come through? Or would it collapse? Or would it just close with a wink and go away? There were so many variables. So many competing wishes, intentions, and rituals spread throughout the city. Would something even choose to come through if it sensed so many competing agendas?

The ritual behind her continued to pour out love and fun and life with dancing and music. It wasn’t the only ritual doing that. She felt others pushing similar feelings into the magical flow around Keffa and smiled. If they had anything to say about it, life would go on when this thing opened.

The sword grew hot in her hand again, and Yao Ling burned the magic off with another lightshow. Because just like life, the show must go on.

Then Yao Ling shook her head and looked around the chamber where the column of light resided. She caught Luto’s eyes. Then Betty’s. She let out a long breath. It was time.

Yao Ling reached into her scroll bag and pulled out the one scroll she'd been holding onto for years. The one she's never burned no matter how bad the situation. She'd almost used it once. She'd been ready to. She'd had it in her hands and she'd even opened it. But it hadn't been needed in the end.

Her life had been enough that time.

Today she unrolled it on the table next to the mice doing the macarana.

Her fingers ran over the familiar scroll and she mouthed the words she had long since memorized against the day they would be needed. The day she had to ask the gods for a miracle. She focused on the feelings and emotions she wanted to promote above all others, and prayed that they would spread throughout the city.

Peace.

Love.

Life.

Joy.

Celebration.

Fun.

Summer Evening

Kristina Chamberlain

Temple

Magic raw and powerful raged and revelled at its release, forming and unforming before her eyes. Moira continued to swing her sword in glowing arcs collecting and dissecting from the edges if the conduit.

For herself, even picking at the loosest threads sent waves of nausea through her and instead she found herself protecting her psyche and Moiras in what she imagined to be invisible walls, but in reality was more of a second skin, repelling the darker forces that continued to assault as they tried to overwhelm the Obeahn flames. Still though she felt like a boat in rapids, barely afloat and unable to navigate the flow of magics now running free within th column.

It was exhilarating and mortifying in equal measure. She praised Obeah that she yet persisted but would be lieing if she denied that she was petrified that once again she was facing her death.

She considered briefly undertaking some scrollwork, Yao Ling had given her a scroll of teleportation, but in a maelstrom within a crucible the outcomes were even less garuanteed than in - better circumstances.

Above the howl she began to hear the song if invocation again being sung. The words innocent and clear cutting through the tumult and for a moment she could feel the child at her side, holding her hand, the word 'Maiden' echoing, stilling the maelstrom.

Then she was in a field, a rolling pasture near the farm stead at Dale, clear as day, but as it stood in her memories over sixty years hence. Elizabeth Daubney stood, as she had, her hand stroking the flanks of a bay mare. Kristina's eyes narrowed, Vanda had been Catherine's horse, docile and beautiful. No wonder she let Elizabeth cozen her. She reached out her own hand, and as happens in dreams she was by the horse, smelling its sweet grassy breath and feeling the silk of her mane.

Elizabeth smiled at her, singing the song of invocation in her pitch perfect sweet voice. Then her face changed, tortured and screaming.... and she was out if reach, moving further away.

Though she hadn't ridden in many years, she grasped Vanda's mane and pulled herself up onto her back. The horse turned and looked at her with an intellect far beyond bestial and leapt forward, dashing at a speed that should have unseated her but feeling as steady as if she were plodding to market. Pastures changed through regions and cities the spires of Oligarch and the Mountains of Dwilight, to Rines and Zwering, finally to Keffa, the horse slowed to a cantor, she remained on its back but was looking at herself, standing sentinel with Moira, by the column. She dismounted touching her head to the horses broad now increasingly otherworldly face.

Then she felt herself falling, dropping to her knees in amongst the puddles on the floor, her dress soaked to her skin and the ritual chamber now teaming with.... by Obeah, with far more tha. Should be there. Picking up a mouse she could swear was shimmying, she looked to Valian and Yao Ling: "What, by Obeah, is going on?!"

Valian Stone Daubeny

Temple

Valian turned to his head to Kristina as she spoke, he finished covering Elizabeth in his cloak and left her where she was.

Valian’s face was tear stricken as he turned his gaze to Captain Tomasa and nodded.

The captain shouted “Company, present arms!” The fifty two men and women of the Riot Guard all stood and held shield and glaives together in salute.

Valian walked slowly over to Kristina “Yao Ling has been draining the wild and dark magic festering in the pillar, the Vales Piper came here too, I brought Viviane and my men, the room is secure and we await your order.”

Eliazbeth’s crying had ceased a moment earlier, she seemed to be asleep, though she shifted on the floor in the cloak and her face showed the look of one suffering a nightmare.

Valian looked at her with fear and sorrow evident on his face “She wanted to help you, GODS DAMMIT IT, SHE WANTED TO HELP YOU AND THE REST OF YOUR FOLLOWERS WITH THEIR DAMMED PILLAR, I LET HER AND NOW WHAT, FOR ALL I KNOW SHE WILL BE ASLEEP FOREVER, LOCKED IN WHATEVER NIGHTMARE PLAGUES HER NOW!”

Valian stopped screamed and lowered his head in shame as he let out a sob, he fell to his knees, covering his face as he let out several sobs, he choked out his words between sobs. “My *sob* niece *sob* I failed her.” Valian then stopped his sobbing and stood up m, he shook his head and wiped his tears.

She wasn’t dead and this wasn’t over and all Valian could think about was keeping everyone in this room safe.

“Forgive my outburst Prelate, Elizabeth will be fine, she is strong, if I could humbly ask you tend to her for a moment, I shall leave you to all these magical matters, I am unfit for it, I shall command my men.”

Rosko Nabarl

Rosko watched his healers attending to the assaulted noble Esdalot. He was not impressed. This city was the disgrace he had imagined and, with the letters and behaviours he had seen, it was clear that those who lived here were mostly deluded.

He turned to his men. “We were told that this ritual was for Mordok. We have chosen to believe we have been told true. With that, you all know what Mordok gains from most. I leave it to you to make any choice you may wish to on this matter.”

Rosko watches as his troops contemplate and talk amongst themselves, before noticing that one has made the decision first...

Closer Dreams

You are approaching the beam of light, reaching out a hand to touch the light...

You wake with a start, wondering...

Murmuring Light

Both when dreaming and when awake, you keep hearing the phrase, "lky lcj ywtl ib?"

Luto

The Temple

Snapshots

Kristina's involvement with magic, that which lead to the water directed at Yao Ling, had been a mixture of blessings and curses deeply intertwined, mediocre at best, favoring and judging Kristina all at once, pliable and resistant.

However, Yao Ling's receipt of water brought more blessing to Yao Ling as she worked with what she had been given.

---

The light-column had sprayed a deluge of water from all heights into and over the Obeahan temple. The temple was quite cleansed. And the portal? It had succumbed to a Nothoian blue, but then receded back to the constant cycling pattern of yellow, red, black, green. Everyone who got wet from the sudden wave felt a blessed increase in Divine confidence.

---

Many were astonished to observe such wild, exotic creatures dancing into Obeah's temple. Someone was overheard complaining the flamingos weren't doing the flamenco.

---

Luto entered the cavernous basement where the stones had been set and greeted Yao Ling, mentioning her blessings in Divine Insight. Viviane had meanwhile also entered with Valian and Elizabeth and then began mentioning various folks were blessed by the Divine deluge in degree of their wetness.

---

"Magic strengthens pillar, but also increases pillar's instability." Luto explained.

Viviane

The Temple

Through the magic with the steeds, blessings bounced around the room as chaotic as the magical beasts.

As Kristina awoke, Viviane went to her side and assured her of blessings of Divine insight.

Viviane started to question who Valian meant by Vales's piper, when Avice, piper of Nova, made her presence known by sending out a challenge to Luto.

Avice

The Temple

Avice had been left by her Novan supporters and left to her initiative in doing what was best for Nova. The few Novan supporters there had been had even instructed her to help Others because Nova didn't deserve It. But she had her duty to Nova.

And in her best judgment, there were too many Others. So she had left her ritual, a pyramid of animals, vulnerable and exposed as Luto had done before the deluge. Welcomed into the temple as a noble believer, she had little difficulty accessing the room, especially as Kristina had invited her. Finding Luto, she rang out a challenge for a duel to the death, "There are too many of us, and you must go that I may rise!"

Luto

The Temple

Luto sighed, readying himself mentally for another bloody fight to the bitter, deadly end, and turned to Yao Ling for instruction on what approach to take to the duel.

18th October

Summer Day

Soren Navaar

Outside the Temple

Soren arrived at the temple with his men to little fanfare, not that he expected any. Agyrian soldiers were in position near the temple, and his men milled into a formation beside them. Protocol dictated that he meet up with his Queen and report in in person Those dreams though... Something in his gut told him he needed to focus on something else that was bothering him instead. His last dreams had him almost touching the beam of light.

Logic declared Lady Aelanta was correct. He should wait here, but something wanted to draw him into the temple. He had put his name on the Heralds roster once before, perhaps he would consider it again, if it meant he could slip back inside. He shook his head. The first time, no one noticed his name, nor did they say a word when he left. To do so twice would only draw the ire of these people. Forcing his feet to carry him, he found where his countrymen were gathered. Queen Aibhlidhn, Lady Aelanta, and Duke Paridithous, names he knew, now putting faces to them.

"Greetings in person, from Seven Rivers," he said with a stiff bow, trying to gauge the moods of his compatriots. He still carried his quarterstaff openly, anything for protection these days, but he carried a proper spear on his back. "Are any of you having trouble sleeping? Between the dreams, and the light show, I understand it is still difficult," he said with a smile.

Esdalot

The Square

Thalmarkin Grill

A suspect had been captured and executed for the assault upon Esdalot, before Esdalot had healed and resumed grilling.

Presently, a soldier of Rosko's climbs atop the slabs of meat, lays down, takes a large fork, and then repetitively stabs his chest in a frenzy of blood and yelling until he collapses in exhaustion. Another flings himself upon the grill, then decides to dance and sing a shrill song of screams, before finally calming down into a nice grilled sacrifice. A third mounts a metal spike upon the grill and leaps upon it. Their creativity knows no bounds as others swallow coals, bash their skulls upon the altar, and strangle themselves with their own belts. About four dozen soldiers of Rosko's unit suicide themselves in offering to Mordok's grill in an attempt to outdo the former in style.

Sadona Vilanova

The Daleish Corner

Sadona appeared in the gardens once more, and approached Bernard. Her blade was stained to the hilt with dark blood and bile. She offers the dagger to Bernard.

"Blood of Polli, then Blood of Esdalot. Now Royal blood." Sadona whispered to Bernard, as she handed him the dagger.

"Let life beget life gardener. The most beautiful plants sprout amidst tears and blood."

Yao Ling Pryde

Yao Ling heard the challenge and turned to see the challenger facing up to Luto with fell intent.

Sometimes Yao Ling thought and thought and thought. Looking for the best response to something.

Sometimes she acted on instinct, following the urgings of magic and soul.

This time she acted.

"No!" she shouted and leaped back towards the confrontation. She placed the hot wolf sword between them, flat edge towards each. "No more bloodshed!"

Then Yao Ling stared directly at the other woman and waved toward Kristina and Valian.

"Or do you intend to destroy EVERYTHING the Obians have worked for!"

Then she allowed just a small glow to emanate from the sword in her hand. Not enough to release all of the magic contained in it. Not now.

Betty

Betty moved to placed herself on Luto's other side just in time to see the glowing sword slide between Luto and the woman who challenged him.

Betty's eyes followed the sword, up the arm, and took in the entirety of the glittering Armour of Righteousness her mistress wore as she tried to end the confrontation. It glowed in the light of the sword, and Betty smiled despite the gravity of the situation.

Yao Ling filled it well.

Then she turned her attention back to the challenger and waited to see what she had to do next.

Her mistress was right.

Bloodshed had to be averted.

But there were other ways to stop a fight and she ran her mind through her options.

Bernard

The Square

Irondale Gardens, Before Ryosuke's and Sadona's Arrivals

Bernard simply smiled at Alice as he tended a blue hydrangea and slowly repeated, "Life. Decay. Death. Rebirth."

Bernard

Irondale Garden

Bernard had recovered from the magical attack to resume gardening, planting, pruning, watering, talking to, singing to, playing the bagpipes for the plants. While gardening, he had felt the magical healing of a fountain of youth, refreshing him from any experienced fatigue.

Alice had also joined in tending the garden and at some point Bernard had gone to her and proclaimed her blessed by Divine insight.

Alas, it was just afterwards Bernard fell to the ground in a fit of screaming as another magical attack had struck. Fortunately, he lay wounded only a short time, soon finding himself healed as magically as he had been wounded. The attempt to wound him had hurt Irondale's ritual as before, but also as before, that damage was limited by the prompt healing magics. This time being less prompt, it had been a bit more damaging.

As Sadona approached with another dagger, Bernard solemnly took it, sprinkling it's dropping contents to fertilize the garden, then using it as a digging spade. It did not nourish nearly as strongly as one of the Others' blood, but it did not hurt either. Bernard prayed to the Daishi as he conducted the blood-garden ritual with the bloody dagger-spade. The Garden did not experience the same growth from this blood as it had the Others' blood.

Dolores

Shattered Vales Forage-Shrine

As Ehrich initiated the maypole celebrations, Dolores went and laid her hands upon him, proclaiming him especially blessed in Divine insight.

Turning to Egil, Dolores gladly received the four rare woodland flowers with glee proclamations of blessing in Divine insight.

Arjan in his loincloth provided an especially blessed sight and Dolores sang out how especially blessed in Divine insight Arjan was.

Gavin bringing the eagle claw and wild boar teeth brought more smiles to Dolores and another assurance of Gavin's blessed Divine insight from her. She assured him that a beastman's blood could help, for it to share common category with other items that had brought blessings from It.

Rufus was next with the monster claw and dragon tooth. These were gratefully received, but did not elicit the same excitement as the other offerings to Shattered Vales' shrine. Still, Delores informed Rufus of his mixed, incomplete blessings in Divine insight. She grew more excited when he began chanting and as his other offerings were offered, assuring him of full blessings.

Ehrich had brought more offerings in the form of a collection of varied butterfly chrisalys and scrolls, a most suspicious offering which only elicited further assurances of Ehrich's blessings.

Rufus' most recent ritualwork with the corn and cooing as a dove resulted in two simultaneous events of the sunlight spotlighting him and rain exclusively falling upon him, a most blessed and auspicious omen.

Delores took the offerings inside to lay them within honoured niches and began playing her harp for the dancers outside, singing of Lola and each blessed contributor to the Shrine.

Summer Evening

Training Match

Geralt Admyr, Knight of Unger meets his challenger Esdalot for the agreed training match.

Esdalot has decided to use the 'neutral' strategy while Geralt has chosen the 'defensive' strategy, giving Esdalot the advantage.

After a series of blows, Esdalot wins the training match.

Sadona Vilanova

The Daleish Corner

Sadona watched as Bernard worked, noting that the Garden grew less from this offering. She nodded, and made eye contact with Bernard.

"I understand." She said, her voice barely more than a whisper. Sadona left, vanishing from sight. Four hours later she returned to Bernard, another dagger in hand, blood and bile dripping from it, the blade drenched to the hilt.

"Blood of an Other. Blood of Avice." she spoke. "From pain and death... Life and beauty."

Ehrich Weisz

The Square

The Shattered Vales Quarter

Ehrich reviewed the reaction to his realmsmen's various creative offerings with some satisfaction. There was some reassurance too that the High Priestess Yao Ling, who did not lack wisdom in arcane matters, appeared to be undertaking some collaboration with the Obian's and other friends to attempt to keep the beam of light stable and free from corruption. But there were many worrying signs of secretive work by blade and magic too.

Even the shrine the Vales had been enhancing was of a mystical nature. Dolores seemed enthused by natural energies which seemed benign enough, though when she sang out to a girl called Lola they were unsure what this meant. Ehrich took a drink of a local spiced beverage, ch-cherry coca, as he thought upon it.

With comrades from the Liber Alchemical already assisting him, and the dangerous climax of the ceremonies seeming close, he decided to make his final contribution from his area of alchemical expertise. He bid an attendant present their final offering, a shield forged and imbued with powers by those of his guild. "Let this shield protect humanity in this vulnerable moment," he beseeched Dolores and whatever powers she channelled. The Librarian/Duke thus offered up the valued artefact the Ornate Aegis of Luz de Bia. He hoped one of the commoner aspirants from his guild might further bless it with a bubbling potion or other alchemical extract from their paraphernalia in the hope the current realms of mankind might prosper longer than that now forsaken realm. With that final offering he joined a circle of his realmsmen in quiet campfire songs to keep vigil over whatever the dawn might bring.

Gavin

Temple Square - Vales Quarter

"I hear you Grand Master Librarian Ehrich, one bubbling potion from our very own alchemy school coming up", shouted Gavin eagerly running towards the shrine. However his foot caught on a vine and he tripped sending the glass bottle pirouetting into the air. Gavin closed his eyes, wincing as the precious vial plummeted down to earth but fortuitously the old scholar Ehrich's reflexes were still sharp and he shot out an arm, catching it inches above the ground. Casting Gavin a stern stare he proceeded to pour the bubbling green liquid in a circle around the Ornate Aegis of Luz de Bia at the base of the Vales Shrine.

Rituals

The Shattered Vales' Shrine had grown brighter and brighter until it had become the brightest ritual of all. Though there was much argument over whether Obia'Syela's ritual was brighter or not, so imperceptible was the difference, even as the Obian ritual had grown in brightness.

Irondale's had grown brighter too and was just barely less bright than the Vales and Obian rituals.

Much, much, much more dim were the rituals of Nothoi, Vordul's residual ritual-energy, Thalmarkin's grill-altar, and Nova's ritual. Nothoi's and Thalmarkin's rituals had grown brighter than previous.

Ryosuke Guile

The Daleish Corner

Watching Bernard and Alice maintaining the garden while Sadona repeatedly vanished into the crowd, only to reappear later with more offerings, the young Hierophant of Irondale starts to feel a twinge of shame. With a grimace hidden behind his silver filigree mask, Ryosuke removes the Buckler of the Stars from his arm and offers it to Bernard as material for the ritual.

"I know not how you wish to utilise such an artefact, be it through the starlight itself or through the usage of the materials. It has been with me for most of my life, and has a good portion of my own essence within. Use it for bettering our chances, my Gardener friend."

Skade

The Daleish Corner

Skade made her way into the garden, her purpose clear and her mind at ease. The beautiful plant life was soothing to her, and she made her way to Bernard. She knelt before him.

"Lord Gardener, I bring a gift for your gardens." She spoke softly.

"I offer myself and all my belongings. Take my very life. May my life fertilize this blessed soil and beauty spring forth." She produced a knife she has found, previously used in a murder.

"Will I blossom?" She asked as she pressed the blade to her throat.

Yxevarii Auru'in

With a sigh and a smile, Grand Inquisitor Yxevarii retires - dispatching a missive containing two of her most prized possessions.

Scrolls of Teleportation. Sadly, she used the scroll of Miracle, and a few others, during the summoning ritual. They would've come in handy right about now.

Elshon Geg

The Square

Thalmarkin Grill

Elshon watches Rosko's men jump on the grill one after another. It was horrible but glorious all in the same. Surely MORDOK would taste a miniscule morsel which might please him. It was all they could do in the face of the grand oblivion.

He slides up next to the recovering Esdalot, the holiest Grill Master, watching as MORDOK'S marinade gets tossed on the grill. "This is a fine start Griller. A fine start. If you need more meat we have a horde of believers. You need only say the word."

The smell of marinated pork filled the square and Elshon licked his grinning lips.

Yxevarii Auru'in

Inquisitor Yxevarii observes Elshon Geg from the outskirts near the cookout, a chill riding up her spine as he licks his lips. One after another, actual human beings throw themselves onto the massive bonfire grill as if sacrificing themselves to some eldrich god. As someone walks up and sticks a fork into an earlier self-immolated human corpse, she reacts as expected.

"Alright, that's about enough of this... Inhumanity. Agents, move in." On her command, a number of Inquisitors saunter toward the grill, while un-uniformed agents casually mingle unseen among the crowd. Yxevarii walks straight up to Elshon, stops a few feet away to scrunch her lips, and lifts her chin as if to ask,

"What in the hell are you doing?!"

Yxevarii Auru'in

Earlier that day

"We never saw them coming.

The bane of generations - an ancient scourge borne upon the howling wind.

Harbingers of a plague given form; their bleak silhouettes carved unto memory.

Souls of black without conscious spark.

...Or so we believed.

A fell wind blew that night - that blasphemous wail of dark lament.

Profane mutterings born of an eldritch macrocosm far beyond Man's perception.

Shambling hordes scattered beyond leagues; devoid of cause nor destination...

By the naive nature of callous Men, we mistook them for naught but mindless wanderers.

How could we be so wrong?

Putrid maws called out unto the darkness in a tongue Man cannot fathom - and something answered the call.

Like a plague of locusts they coalesced. A leviathan horde descended from the pits of oblivion to cleave our ranks asunder.

Despite the best training and preparation money can buy, our defensive positions were overwhelmed without warning.

How does one defeat an enemy who feels no pain; which never tires; that knows no fear?

We never stood a chance.

First they ambushed our scouts. Then they probed our response - unveiling vulnerabilities we were too blind to notice.

The flood broke upon our flanks like a tsunami - consuming the front-lines like loose grains of sand.

They were too swift, too vast a force to reform our lines. There was no second charge.

What few men survived will forever relive that night in their darkest nightmares."

Suddenly, Yxevarii's eyes snap open as she gasps for breath. Glimmers of memory - of carving out the future borders of a dreamed-up colony long before Nova came to be...

Of leading the Enlightened into battle at Prophet's command, and finally, of torture at the hand of her daemon worshipper captives that fateful Ardmorian evening so many years ago.

As the nightmare abates, she awakens to face her first day as a retiree. The smell of charred meat lingers in the air - alongside the faint crackle of latent magicks.

"Son of a BITCH..."

Dreams of Arrival

You are observing the beam of light, taking notes, when a tendril of light pulses towards you, reaching out...

You awaken with a start, expecting something.

Elshon Geg

Elshon winked at Esdalot as he penned the letter to the pernicious Obian.

19th October

Summer Day

Saoirse MacArbin

Grandmistress, Past and Present (Before events at the Palace)

Saoirse took her blade back from her new captain, who had just finished cleaning it, before turning to Yxevarii.

"All of this magic is far beyond me, if you can help the Prelate then take it all and do whatever you can."

She grimaced, looking toward the palace.

"I am going to try and distract as many as I can with an event. It probably won't work, but anything we can do to get people to stop actively interfering..."

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

Ten days of meditation of the roof of the temple had taken their toll on Timsen. His body was thin and his muscles emaciated, though not nearly as bad as it could be after his captain Tatiana started to exercise his limbs along with keeping him hydrated. Timsen's breathing remained strong and without pause, as both his spirit and heart worked like an engine.

His soul smiling, Timsen was deep in the earth and could feel the warmth and pressure of the earth as a welcoming presence. The spiritual cavern he was in was connected through the dug tunnel to the power of the city above. It was ready to be many things as the situation demanded, all of them led by the purpose to be helpful, welcoming, calm and protecting.

Avice

The Temple

Moments after issuing the challenge to Luto, Avice was assaulted by an assassin and fell, wounded. In the square, Nova's animal-pyramid fizzled, the pyramid of beasts collapsing thunderously, the vulnerable ritual having been broken.

Viviane

Temple Basement

With a thunderous clap, Viviane banged her cymbals and began playing an Obian tune for the dancers. Chanting arcane words, she began Obia'Syela's ritual to welcome It. With the song's completion, she set the cymbals aside and began drawing images of animal-unions in chalk throughout the basement.

Ichabod Poe

Arrival of the warrior priest

Ichabod had paused his priestly duties to take up the mantle of warrior to combat the hordes of bloodless and monsters that had began to form.

For now that duty was done but a calling from Keffa had made him venture east to see what needed to be done.

He had entered the city. His skin which is tattooed with the Litanies of Xlair Silverblade tingled as the power that had built up in the area hung in the sky like birds of prey waiting to feast.

"I need to find Polli" he mutters.

Esdalot

Thalmarkin Grill-Altar

Nodding to Elshon, "The more meat, the merrier."

Yao Ling Pryde

The Temple

Yao Ling watched the assassin appear. She watched him stab the challenger in the back. She watched the assassin fade back away again.

And then the world seemed to start again and she watched the wounded body fall to the floor at her feet, blood pooling on her back from the multiple stab wounds.

Yao Ling blinked at the realization that it could have been her. That assassin had been... so fast. Daishi help her... even looking right at them... Yao Ling couldn't have moved fast enough to parry even one of those attacks. The chill went clear to her bones.

For the first time in a long time, Yao Ling felt old again...

"Mistress?"

Yao Ling jerked and turned towards Betty, part of her mind realizing that this wasn't the first time Betty had called to her. Yao Ling blinked, and then looked down at the bleeding body. The sight of the blood cleared her mind just enough to act.

"Bind her wounds," Yao Ling ordered. "Don't let her bleed on the floor."

"Yes, Mistress," Betty answered and went to work.

"I don't want to clean this place up again," Yao Ling muttered as she looked around at the various nobles and soldiers in the room. "And please, could somebody take her away before she wakes up? I really don't want her interrupting all of this."

Then she realized that her hand was hurting. She looked at the glowing sword sword and realized that she'd been holding onto the energy in case she needed to use it. It was actually starting to sparkle as the magic spitted and flickered off it. If there was a limit to what this sword could absorb, it was getting close to it.

Yao Ling could work with that. She absorbed just enough to warm her chilled bones, smiled, and held the sword high.

This time, instead of a light show, she thought maybe fireworks over the city would do.

Welcome whatever was coming in style.

Everyone knew after all, that the show must go on...

Polli

Arrival of the Warrior Priest

Just down the street from Ichabod, Polli was paying a messenger for delivery of a death duel challenge to Esdalot, having had to take her own initiative after receiving no instruction from Vordul Sanguinis, post ritual collapse.

Isidor Thrane

Isidor had been fasting and reciting prayers for several days...

“Obeah guide us. Obeah teach us. Obeah protect us. Obeah deliver us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”

Summer Evening

Yxevarii Auru'in

Grandmistress, Past and Present, Before Events at the Palace

Yxevarii bows to Grandmistress Saoirse and nods solemnly.

"Aye, its a veritable sh*tshow of cosmic proportions. Here's to hoping we can prevent anyone from destabilizing the damn thing. I'd much rather avoid Keffa being a smoking crater. Bloody fools smell profit and, without knowing what exactly they're even signing up for, run like mad to waylay it... You'd think folks would've learned not to tamper with active portals by now.

A sarcastic snort and grimace later, the priestess regains her composure, anger ebbing back to cultured apathy.

"Anyway, I'll put these to good use in your stead. Best of luck and godspeed, my dear."

Sadona Vilanova

The Daleish Corner

Sadona returned to the gardens, having avoided the patrols and the doubled guards. She approached Bernard yet again, secretly enjoying the tinge of horror on his face as she once again offered him a dagger dripping blood.

"Another Other, our dear sweet Dolly Polli."

Yxevarii Auru'in

So long after her marshalling days came to a bloody end at the hand of daemon worshipping torturers, Yxevarii is all muscle and pent-up rage.

With her black cloak and usual ranger's leathers hidden beneath, she could pass for a common adventurer with ease.

Her thoughts dwell on the contents of the last missive they sent. That in which they cited Mordok's Grill, and open admission of ritualistic interference in an attempt to subvert the Teacher.

Anger spills forth. Anger at their deception. Anger at their deflection. Anger at their blatant disrespect. Anger at their blasphemy. Anger at their apathy toward the value of human life.

How could they so casually stand by as their worshippers place their lives in their hands, dying in conflagration for their benefit? What manner of madman could do such a thing?

Her thoughts turn to memories of the blasphemous psychopath Renodin, whose path of destruction stains Obia'syela to this day. Memories of similar deflection, of sarcasm and vile lies resurface.

The fire burns higher, flaring as another soul is released from its mortal coil. So too does the fire within her burn. As Esdalot faces the grill, Yxevarii sees an opportunity and takes it.

As a duo of cloaked agents cause a ruckus on the other end, Yxevarii continues to walk casually toward Esdalot's general area. When eyes turn away, toward the supposed drunken exchange of heated words...

Yxevarii launches into a full sprint, cleaving the final few steps apart as she attempts to dropkick Esdalot directly into the grillfire.

Kristina Chamberlain

The Column called out to her, sounds and music aside, the mumbled phrases repeated themselves so close to her ear that they were more than whispered sounds, something... someone... was attempting to cross. The disorientation of the magics pulled her back again, and in the flows of the rituals she felt herself pulled taut, Obia'Syela and The Shattered Vales, two daughters of the JeVondairs, she felt the legacies of wild Selenia and haughty Rania once again so intimately connected but at war and pulling her to their sides. She was Prelate of a faith that spanned both lands, her allegiance to the Holy land was married to the faith as a whole bringing her to question whether her loyalty should lie with Church or State... the noise... the magic...it was so confusing, but in the end, in Obia'Syela, Church was State. She could barely concentrate as the clash of the cymbals pulled her from her taut introspection.

The sound resonated around the room despite the menagerie of the circus Yao Ling had conspired to create in the ritual chamber. She stretched her arms wide, damp folds of her dress hanging heavily from her limbs. The coiling magics she had held almost too long in her core found purchase as she breathed the runes into the reverberations of Viviane's percussion. "cbp cta pnkc zs..." setting them free from her lips was such a relief, she turned back to the column, addressing it with a beckoning wave and growling, "Morwy apnbp"

She laughed, seeing everything. The animals had paused in their dance looking at her. A flash of coloured lights as Yao Ling released further energies from her sword. She felt grim satisfaction at the faint nauseating smell of the blood magics dissipating in a harmless rainbow. The craven wolves managed to look embarrassed as they disengaged from their conga, red eyes once more showing hunger as they looked at the kicking mice. Fearless she grabbed the pack masters maw, turning his eyes to hers. "My poor hungry howlers, the Thals have made you a feast of hot flesh... go feed on their burnt offerings."

The pack exchanged meaningful glances as they sniffed the air, all noses resolving in a direction that saw them salivating in the depths of hunger. As one the pack leapt, dodging soldiers and nobles alike as they melted into cracks and crevices in pursuit of the smoking Thal barbecue.

Next she crossed to Elizabeth, reaching down she took the girl by her hand, helping her to her feet. "You have done well Elizabeth, you called me back and now you must help us," she indicated Viviane, "to bring the ritual to Obia'Syela."

She looked meaningfully at Vivianne: "Morwy apnbp...?" Vivianne seemed to give half a smile. Kristina turned back to Elizabeth, once again singing the prayer of Invocation.

Beloved Obeah, of the silvered Moon,

Mistress of mysteries...

Valian Stone Daubeny

Crossbows at Dawn

Valian sighed as a soldier reported to him what the Thalmarkin Piper was saying.

He felt his blood boil “Send him a challenge, I will head out in a minute, bring two crossbows.”

Valian turned to Elizabeth and Kristina “Look after yourself Liz.”

He left with his soldier as he made his way down towards the grill.

Elizabeth gave Kristina a pained smile “I am glad I could help you Mistress.” Elizabeth looked nervous “What do you need me to do?”

20th October

Summer Day

Ehrich Weisz

The Square

Ehrich had been studying late into the night, switching between reading a book from the unrestricted section of the Keffa academy library, "The Fall of Riombara," which seemed pertinent with troubles emerging again from that area. He also studied a rarer pamphlet that had been shipped to him referencing a now long forgotten scroll, "A spell to see what my enemy is doing," which also seemed strangely apt but which lacked even a clear outline of how the spell once worked.

A kindly servant had eventually managed to guide the weary Duke to his bed, but Ehrich was awoken early with news from an Imperial herald. Switching his nightcap for a fashionably buckled capotain, he emerged into the square to attempt some healing magic in vain attempt to demonstrate that there were still such things as gentlemen magicians of practical magic.

Yao Ling Pryde

The Temple

Yao Ling walked away from Luto and his merry band of musicians and dancers, squelching her way in still-wet armor across the temple chamber to where Kristina and Elizabeth stood.

"It's good to see you back," Yao Ling said with an eye towards both of them. Then she raised the wolf sword in her hand and aimed a look at where Moira still stood like a statue.

"But I have to ask where Moira is."

Rufus

The Square - The Shattered Vales corner

Still praising Dolores from within his hedgerow nest - Rufus was more restricted in his offerings. The light and rain gave him encouragement and he suffered the pangs of hunger without complaint - foraging on berries and scraps from the occasional villager. He awoke with dismay one day to see an exotic bird pecking away the last reserves of his berries - but a feather dislodged when it took to flight leaving a Coloured Feather which he offered up to Dolores in praise.

With plenty of time to meditate and wonder - the wayward monk heard many tales of high nobles attacking each other. The bushes and plants have no desire to harm man - he thought. Consider the lilies! When one of the travelling wizards came by they had no kind offerings - but Dolores and her shrine were keeping him safe so perhaps she could utilise the energy in his last darker scroll

Aaron

The Square - The Shattered Vales corner

Aaron feels unsure about touching something so strange but he walks over to Shattered Vales corner nevertheless. It is like something is pulling his hands there.

At the corner, Aaron looks over his items. Then he kneels down in prayer as he offers the following items to Dolores.

2 pieces of Honey.

Your humble servant hopes these few items will help.

Kristina Chamberlain

Temple

"I don't know how to explain it Yao Ling, but I almost feel like I am still there... it feels like I am pulled taut in so many directions...."

Her eyes followed Yao Lings to Moira: "She is a glorious warrior in the flow, she almost seems more assured... and more 'Moira' there than she did here. She stands cutting away at foes we cannot see in a way I simply could not. There are few living who know the Flow better than her and perhaps it is a folly but I feel she is more than capable of managing herself there."

She pulled Elizabeth closer to her side. "I don't know why, but I feel it was Elizabeth brought me home..."

She scanned the room. "Now Yao Ling... do not think me unappreciative of your efforts in helping stabilise the column.... but dancing mice?"

---

She knelt at Elizabeth's side.

"You have already done so much my pet... I know you called me back to myself, and without you who knows if I would have found my way home." She nodded toward Viviane. "You brought Viviane here to us... exactly where she should be.... and it makes me think. Viviane said the ritual needs three. The song of invocation also speaks of three. The crone and the mother," she cast her hand non-comittally between herself and Lady Viviane: "and..."

Elizabeth gripped her hand tightly, bright eyes filling with purposeful pride. "The Maiden!" the girl offered with barely contained excitement.

Kristina nodded, "Will you sing the invocation with me?"

She began the song again...

Aibhlidhn Dubhaine

Outside the Temple - Ar Agyr Defensive Perimeter

"No need for formalities Sir Soren, we're not at Court," the Queen grasped the young knight's shoulders, his pulse involuntarily racing as her amber eyes held his gaze, her tone conspiratorial and just for his ears, "you're a warrior of Ar Agyr now. A bear-rider and a sword brother."

Age had thus far done little to dim Aibhlidhn's vitality or handsome looks and the legend of her career was widely celebrated, the youth who abandoned her estates in Sirion to pledge herself in the fight against the Daimon Lords, rising through the ranks of her adoptive homeland to first Generalship and then the very throne itself. The effect on poor Soren was overwhelming. House Dubhaine stood amongst a handful of Great Families known to all the world, and even amongst that martial lineage there were none who could compare for sheer élan to Aibhlidhn, Countess of Tepmona, Duchess of Havilmark and Queen of the Five Duchies of Ar Agyr, daughter of General Aednadh of Sirion, granddaughter of Minister of Defence Rhidhana of Fontan, and great-granddaughter of the fabled Supreme Justice Moira whose disappearance remained to this day one of the world's great mysteries.

To stand in such a presence, to experience the effortless authority of ancient aristocracy and the impeccable good grace of unbesmirched chivalry, to be embraced as worthy by one in whose defence a thousand warriors would willingly lay down their lives...

The spell was broken as the Queen released her grip and smiled, "No need to look so alarmed, I'm flesh and blood just like you. Otherwise I wouldn't need this damn armour," she rapped her knuckles on her corselet.

"Dreams you say? Dreams indeed. Today we stand at the nexus of many realities, and time seems to run differently for all who are gathered here. You speak of sleep disrupted, but I dream with my waking mind, and others? Well, I think we have more pressing matters to consider."

Yao Ling Pryde

Kristina pulled Elizabeth closer to her side. "I don't know why, but I feel it was Elizabeth brought me home..."

Yao Ling smiled and nodded. "Elizabeth summoned some magical steeds, though they fought her terribly and inflicted much pain on her." Yao Ling raised the wolf sword with a shrug. "So I released them from the scroll and they entered the flow. I'm assuming one found you..."

Kristina scanned the room. "Now Yao Ling... do not think me unappreciative of your efforts in helping stabilise the column.... but dancing mice?"

Yao Ling gave her a sheepish grin. "Honestly, the mice lead me here in the first place. Though it would seem my friend Luto taught them to dance."

Yao Ling turned to wave a hand at his menagerie of musicians and dancers, both human and animal. "Luto has some great power and knowledge of what is going on, so I asked him to come help stabilize this. He brought... all of them with him."

Yao Ling leaned in closer and said the rest in a softer tone. "I may have suggested that you knew he and his people were coming to get them past the temple guard..."

---

After Kristina began signing again, Yao Ling squelched back to Luto and leaned in towards him. "Find a song that harmonizes with them." Then she leaned in closer and finished in a softer voice. "And is still Nothoian."

She ended with a soft smile and flicked the sword to release the magic burning out of it with another flick of her wrist.

Because the show must go, no matter what.

Valian Stone Daubeny

Temple

Elizabeth looked shocked at Kristina’s words “Mistress? But I can’t I am not strong enough.”

Elizabeth sobbed and buried her head into her arms “I can’t control it, all I am going to do is mess this up or... hurt someone.”

Elizabeth whispered the last of her words, tears flowed from her still golden eyes.

Summer Evening

Duel

Luto meets his challenger Avice for the agreed duel till death.

Avice has decided to use the 'aggressive' strategy while Luto has chosen the 'defensive' strategy, giving Luto the advantage.

The duel goes as planned, then badly for Avice. She suffers several slight wounds, then a final, fatal blow. The healers hurry, but they are too late.

Ehrich Weisz

The Square, The Vales Quarter.

The unprecedented gathering of sages and wizards presented many opportunities to acquire texts of arcane lore, and the aspirants of the Liber Alchemical remained busy to good effect. As the pillar of light and rituals still shone brightly, Duke Ehrich offered Dolores another tribute of precious learning in the form of miraculous scroll.

With many dignitaries headed to the temple, Ehrich assembled with the troops of the Vales to maintain their vigil with Dolores and keep careful watch at the site of their shrine.

Moira

There was a sour taste to the ether as Kristina uttered her incantation, the unmistakable taint of worship offered willingly to things which in Moira's opinion had no right to be worshipped, and somewhere in the High Firmament a presence stirred, a slumbering mother of diverse askewances. It's true name was lost in the mists of time, an ancient and malevolent presence, one amongst many intelligences incomprehensible to human reason and lacking any easily discerned form. Its unassuageable ache to be loved beyond all love, desired beyond all desire, justified beyond all justification, feared beyond all fear.

The priestess seemed oblivious, too lost perhaps in the coruscating web of her ritual workings, the dark shadows of spilt blood now almost entirely flensed from the still burgeoning astral mesh by Moira's careful sword work, leaving a pulsating hypnotic kaleidoscope of power flowing freely into the Obian portal. For good or ill the ritual was complete and the die cast...

Thunderous hooves struck sparks from the Path of Conviction and Moira leapt aside just in time to catch the fleeting image of a bay mare, limned in golden flame. The spectral figure crashed headlong into Kristina and she was gone, replaced by a young girl screaming in terror, arms wrapped about her head as if to ward off violent blows.

The adventuress dropped the stern form of the Knight of the Balance and left her sword to bob and weave in the air behind her as she approached the girl. It was unclear from her poorly projected form if she were a child or perhaps a young woman approaching marriageable age but it was certain from the sweet savour which surrounded her that she was an innocent as such things are accounted amongst men. An innocent perhaps, but already the faint shadow of Obeah lay upon her thoughts. Moira wasn't a religious woman and it grieved her heart that this girl would only know reality through so narrow a lens.

Since her arrival in Beluaterra during the last Invasion she'd aligned herself with the Daishi not because of their spiritual beliefs but because they were the staunchest enemies of the Nether Lords and the facies they worshipped the least corrupting, interested more in their own battles than in plundering the soulstuff of fragile mankind. Their intense dislike for the Nether Lords was legendary and Moira considered that ample recommendation.

"Hush hush now darling," she knelt beside the girl, stroking her hair gently as she drew her into a motherly embrace. It was not the first time the adventuress had comforted a young girl in the midst of psychic violence, raising as she did three daughters in the Zuma wastes.

The girl gripped on for dear life, silently mouthing words amidst deep sobs of terror.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," she rocked the girl gently back and forth in her arms, humming an old Cagilian lullaby as she did so and letting her own connection to the Flow surround them like a womb. It was clear this was the first time the girl had 'breached the veil' as Kristina had so obscurely phrased it, a jarring experience for an untrained mind. Moira lifted the girl's chin and smiled.

"I'm going to send you home," Moira kissed the girl's forehead, "and when you awake you won't be afraid. Do you understand?"

The small head and fragile features bobbed up and down in agreement, "When I awake I won't be afraid."

"That's a good girl. My name is Moira and if you ever need help you'll know how to contact me."

"My name's Elizabeth," the girl replied.

"Then journey safely Elizabeth," and she was gone, returned to her mortal body.

Now to wait. If Kristina and her companions could control the pure energies now pouring into the Obian portal, then all well and good. And if not Moira still had the Agyrian portal at her disposal. She stretched her neck from side to side, and as she did so the cunningly wrought black carapace of the Knight of the Balance reappeared, Lannceann MacTíre settling into one hand and a vicious black battle axe into the other.

"LET THE HAND'S WILL BE DONE!" her voice carried along the rotating pillars of light, echoing across the many realities they crossed. And far above in the High Firmament the arms of a balance scale swung wildly in the Hand of Fate.

Magical Healing

You suddenly feel an unknown force entering your body, filling you with new energy. You feel strangely refreshed.

Soren Navaar

Outside the Temple - Ar Agyr Defensive Perimeter

Soren gave a nod. He at least was able to play a stunned noble when he could. Aibhlidhn's reputation preceded her, but Soren had his own history, not that he cared to announce it. Soren Navaar, Great Grandson of Soren Calanar, Defender of Beluaterra, Daimon Slayer, champion of two invasions, Ruler of the lands of Melhed that Ar Agyr now sits upon, my claim is probably older than yours, Queen Dubhaine, and later defender of Reeds, grandson of Felix Calanar, Duke of Cairn Nothoi, Nephew to names across several continents. He fought the urge to say anything. The family fell apart in the last generations, and now it was up to the Navaars to restore it, even if they all didn't know it.

Magic, dreams... Magic dreams that put him into a stupor in the day, dreams of that pillar of light. He liked the simple judgment, but like anything with magic, there always felt like more involved, and portal stones and pipers were just the beginning. He found a seat nearby and rested his staff from the ground to his shoulder, quietly preparing for his next batch of letters. Too many things were happening, and he had no idea how to stay on top of it all. He looked up at his Queen. "As you say, my Queen. I'll have my men begin patrolling as soon as possible. My recent slew of letters indicate some infiltrators in the region attacking people. We should see if we can help capture them, lest we end up in the middle of a war, or without a unit that could make a difference."

Aibhlidhn Dubhaine

Outside the Temple - Ar Agyr Defensive Perimeter

"To be honest I'm more concerned about sorcerers than infiltrators Sir Soren as I've received news from the Irondale delegation of a sustained attack on them in recent days. However if your men are up to some policing then by all means have a word with the city authorities and see if you can assist," the Queen gestured towards an officer of the Temple Guard who was descending the steps to the plaza.

"Captain Caedberga."

The Captain of her bodyguard stood smartly to attention, "Yes Ma'am."

"We've received an invite to the Palace from Grandmistress Saoirse. In our absence take command of the perimeter."

"Very good Ma'am," the Captain saluted and set about her duties with practiced efficiency, bellowing an order here for a trooper to smarten up or sharing a good natured joke with a nervous young recruit there.

Aibhlidhn next turned to Aelwyn, "The invite includes my household. There's a woman nearby by the name of Wren whose insight I value. She tends to be rather bashful but see if you can find her before I leave for the Palace."

She could picture the gentle, bird-like antiquarian's reaction to the burly young warrior even as she issued the order.

"And make sure you don't scare her! Good agents are damn hard to find."

Kristina Chamberlain

She hugged the girl close. "You've already saved me, my poppet."she tousled the girls hair. "All I want you to do, is sing with me... like you do every day, sing for Obeah to guide her home like you did for me..." The clash of battle brought her eyes up as she pushed the girl behind her skirts.

The battle was brief leaving a Herald dead at the hands of the Nothoian. Her anger flared.

"The Temple is a place of peace! And you have brought violence and death, Yao Ling... and before the eyes of a child!" The guards looked on sheepishly. "What are you waiting for, clqp him in irons and take him for the High Templars consideration!" She scanned the room as they rushed to do her bidding. "And get these animals out of here!"

She sighed, tiredness regaining her composure. "Now Goodwife Viviane, and my precious one." She looked to her companions, "let us finish this for Obeah and Obia'Syela..."

Valian Stone Daubeny

Temple

Elizabeth found herself uncaring for the bloodshed before her, she could feel the Herald’s pain as his fire was extinguished it didn’t hurt but she could comprehend what the man felt.

She had grown used to this, she had grown used to feeling the pain of others.

Elizabeth looked to the pillar, she could help, she could help the people who looked after her.

Elizabeth slowly removed herself from Kristina’s he and held onto Kristina’s hand as she gave a nervous but sincere smile “Yes Mistress, I will sing with you, for Obeah.”

Captain Tomasa and nearly 48 Riot Guard formed up, locking shield together and lowering glaives forward, they formed a wall across the roll separating the Prelate, Child and Piper from the others in the room, if any wanted to get to them they would have to get through three rows of men and women all armed with shield an glaive.

Elizabeth looked determined “I am ready Mistress.”

Betty

The attack came without warning.

One moment the woman who had challenged Luto was on the floor, unconscious from the wounds that had felled her.

Betty had let her attention wander, following the discussion between Yao Ling and Kristina. Then movement caught her attention.

The woman charged Luto again. She attacked without warning, killing blow after killing blow sweeping in towards the man, but Luto moved back and flowed into a response that intercepted her blade in a quick series of clashes.

She charged Luto and suddenly froze in place, pinioned on his sword like a bull that had met its matador. The woman fell to the ground, emitted a death rattle, and blood began to pool out of her clothing.

Betty jumped into action as Luto turned back to his ritual, working to staunch the bleeding yet again to keep this woman from further disrupting the rituals.

Yao Ling Pryde

Yao Ling turned in time to see the swift clash of swords and sighed. She'd asked them to take that woman away after she had challenged Luto the first time. They hadn't, she had healed faster than anyone had a right to from wounds that deep, and now she was on the attack again. But Luto dealt with her swiftly and she fell to the floor, dead. Or dying. It didn't really matter now. The woman had chosen her path. Death. Despite Yao Ling's warning about disrupting the rituals here. She saw Betty jumping to action to staunch the wounds again.

Maybe the damage could be limited.

Then Kristina responded. "The Temple is a place of peace! And you have brought violence and death, Yao Ling... and before the eyes of a child!"

Yao Ling turned back to Kristina. "SHE brought death here, not me," Yao Ling said with a wave towards the dead challenger. "I bring only life and hope with me."

Kristina Chamberlain

With irritation she noted Betty moving to defend her countryman as the guards approached to take him to Vahanian.

"Don't make me arrest you too Betty... he's brought bloodshed and chaos to my temple. He will see the judgement of the Templar... and the Inquisitor if Vahanian sees fit."

The guards easily restrained Luto and led him from the temple.

Kristina Chamberlain

Temple

"Really Yao Ling? Really?" She shot the woman an incredulous look. "I am supposed to have the corpse he has left behind arrested? - in the temple of your Holy City... you would happily play the blame game before taking action? - he should not have been here at all. But he comes, a foreigner bearing arms and ill intent in my Temple, killing a member of the faithful? They were both wrong, but you defend the indefensible."

Wren

Outside the Temple - Ar Agyr Defensive Perimeter

Since returning to Keffa, the Wren had been on alert: taking extra caution with her movements and staying well away from anyone resembling a guard from any nation. The resulting efforts to find anyone she recognized were beyond fruitless. The tiny woman sat now in the shadow of a pillar, now hugged the market tents, now peered out of the empty window frame of a dilapidated building away from the square... and saw only strangers.

The columns of light flared in the distance and flickered as she watched. The little Foederati felt the feathers under her hair prickle out with a shiver, watching the lights. She had to get back there, had to find the Queen of the North who was so kind. There may still be time to help...

"You there, are you the one they call Wren?"

Wren leapt up at the strong voice, adrenaline blasting through her senses. Door there, door there, window here. She instantly found all the escape routes and felt them blazed across her trembling awareness as she crouched back into a defensive position and peered slowly toward the door.

A muscular warrior--a squire by the look of her official badging and proud stance--stood firmly in the open doorway not yet across the threshold.

Wren held her position, heart hammering, eyes wide, and thought quickly. This one knew her name. The accent sounded northern. Then the warrior woman took a step into the house and Wren reacted with a quick hop backward.

"Only if the Wren is not in trouble!" she piped.

22nd October

Summer Day

Yao Ling Pryde

Yao Ling turned in time to see the swift clash of swords and sighed. She'd asked them to take that woman away after she had challenged Luto the first time. They hadn't, she had healed faster than anyone had a right to from wounds that deep, and now she was on the attack again. But Luto dealt with her swiftly and she fell to the floor, dead. Or dying. It didn't really matter now. The woman had chosen her path. Death. Despite Yao Ling's warning about disrupting the rituals here. She saw Betty jumping to action to staunch the wounds again.

Maybe the damage could be limited.

Then Kristina responded. "The Temple is a place of peace! And you have brought violence and death, Yao Ling... and before the eyes of a child!"

Yao Ling turned back to Kristina. "SHE brought death here, not me," Yao Ling said with a wave towards the dead challenger. "I bring only life and hope with me."

"Really Yao Ling? Really?" Kristina asked with an incredulous look towards Yao Ling. "I am supposed to have the corpse he has left behind arrested? - in the temple of your Holy City... you would happily play the blame game before taking action? - he should not have been here at all. But he comes, a foreigner bearing arms and ill intent in my Temple, killing a member of the faithful? They were both wrong, but you defend the indefensible."

Yao Ling let out a long breath. They should have arrested the woman when she first assaulted Luto, when she was still alive. But like that woman, they had chosen their path. To distrust foreigners or those they saw as unfaithful.

Kristina turned to the guards who looked upon the scene sheepishly. "What are you waiting for, clap him in irons and take him for the High Templar's consideration!"

Kristina scanned the room as they rushed to do her bidding, and noted with an irritated look Betty moving to defend her countryman as the guards approached to take him to Vahanian.

"Don't make me arrest you too Betty..." Kristina said. "He's brought bloodshed and chaos to my temple. He will see the judgment of the Templar... and the Inquisitor if Vahanian sees fit."

Yao Ling waved Betty back. The younger woman looked rebellious for a moment, and Yao Ling's eyes flashed. Now was not the time for this. Betty backed down and Yao Ling turned to murmur a few words towards Luto.

"And get these animals out of here!" Kristina continued as the guards restrained Luto easily and led him from the chamber.

Meanwhile, what Valian had called his “Riot Guard” of approximately fifty men formed up between Yao Ling and where Kristina and her new companions were presumably strategizing the next step of their ritual. The Riot Guard locked shields together and lowered their glaives forward, forming a three-tiered wall across the chamber. They left no doubt that if any wanted to get to Kristina, they would have to brave shield and glaive.

Yao Ling let out another slow breath. Foreigners, unfaithful, and animals. That really did cover the entire range of people in this temple right now. Well. Yao Ling came when asked. And she left when asked. It truly was the best way to get along with others.

"I will see the animals out," Yao Ling said with the calm smile she had perfected over a lifetime of dealing with others. "May your Goddess see you well."

And with that final blessing, Yao Ling waved a hand to draw in the musicians and dancers Luto had brought to help the Obians, and moved to follow Luto and his guards out of the chamber.

The Daishi temple would be best. It is where they had all started, until the Obians and responded to her offers of aid with requests of aid. Yes. The Daishi temple would be best for now.

Soren Navaar

Outside the Temple - Ar Agyr Defensive Perimeter

Wren? Soren remembered the name from a letter he sent recently to the local adventurers of Ar Agyr. It was also a name he saw in letters to the Agyrian Academy. He paused his conversation with his captain and walked over to where the older adventurer had gone. A young Patrician to the appearance, but a bit on the plain side. If it weren't for his eyes, he might be able to blend in with a crowd if he wanted to. Despite being the youngest of his brothers, Soren's gaze carried the weight of a lineage that gave him strength, and built its own presence when he needed it to. Instead of using that gaze, the young noble simply walked up towards the Adventurer with a smile.

"Wren is not in trouble if I can say anything about it," he chimed back. Notably he did not have much of an accent due to his travels.

The woman was jumpy, not that he could blame her. Coming to this city was risky business for nobles. He couldn't imagine how some of the common folk felt. He stayed back to a point that even his quarterstaff would not reach without some advancement. "Soren Navaar, Knight of Seven Rivers," he introduced himself. "I wrote to the local adventurers the other day, and I must say it's a pleasure to meet another member of the Agyrian Academy in person."

Resting his staff against his shoulder, he gave a friendly nod. "Be at ease."

Vahanian Blint

The Palace

Vahanian had been watching the comings and goings of the guests to the map room for the better part of two hours. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd slowly made his way around the perimeter of the room, hunting for threats. So far no incident had been made among the gathered nobility. Several times he'd felt a flux in the magic that nearly knocked him off his feet. His arm seared in agony like never before. He felt another surge just at the edge of his senses, it was gathering like a tsunami's wave off the coast of his mind, he grabbed a nearby column to steady himself as it struck.

His vision went blinding white and then black. He heard the faintest sound of music, slowly and steadily growing louder, as if he were approaching it. He felt the occasional bump and rolling sensation of a carriage beneath him, and the familiar calm and jovial demeanor he got during the briefest of moments of privacy between himself and the Holy Oracle.

He saw her magical staff, the one he'd custom ordered and designed with the finest Obian craftsmen. The carriage came to a rolling halt. He stepped out and offered his hand to the Oracle, shooing away the waiting servants and courtiers with a mere look. As Duke and Grand Templar it was his right to see to her security, as one of her oldest friends, it was his privileged to be her escort into the party for her nameday. He guided her through the throng of assembled nobles and party-goers, the pair of them seemed to glide across the room with a simple, yet powerful elegance. Vahanian led Rania to her seat, milking this experience for all it was worth, before taking his own seat at her right hand. The music picked up once more, and there was an exchange of words, just beyond his hearing between himself and Rania. He saw her grin as plain as day before he turned and was struck with the full force of a 17 year old child hurtling through the air in an attempt to surprise him with a hug. Stheno clung to him with a furious excitement, presenting her recommendations from nobles across the continent for her to be named a full blooded noble.

She dragged Vahanian to the dance floor and the two, surrogate father and surrogate daughter, danced with one another to the amazement of the crowd. In that moment, only two people existed, Vahanian and Stheno. A girl he'd raised and protected for nearly her entire life. She was closer to him than some of his blood relatives and he loved her more fiercely than he thought possible. The dance ended with Vahanian holding Stheno in a complex and acrobatic dip. He looked down at her smiling face and watched the light and life leave her eyes. His joy evaporated in a moment. The dance floor beneath his feet melted away and he was left kneeling on the marble of the Solarium, heart torn asunder, warring within himself between concern for the unconscious Rania and the lifeless and motionless Stheno. Kethan squeezed his shoulder and spoke words Vahanian didn't hear. Marcus stooped to pick Stheno and Vahanian nearly killed him on the spot. No one would care for her the way he had, no one was capable of loving her the way he had. He scooped her up, so tiny in his arms, and carried her to the Oracle's chambers. The Oracle's personal honor guard fell in around him, one of them carried Rania. Rania was cared for by the healers and Vahanian stood Stheno's vigil, alone. His throat was raw, he felt more drained than if he'd just endured a week long endless battle. His vision went red and his hand was wrapped around the throat of one of the shrouded matrons. Those responsible for the burial of a noble in Rines. A dagger was in his hand and he was ready to kill. He wanted to kill. He wanted to bathe the city in blood to bring her back. Fury and grief mixed inside him like oil and fire, feeding one another and spreading rapidly. His whole body shook in rage and sorrow.

"Your Grace" Baldwin's voice sounded. Vahanian's vision blurred mixed between the memory and the present. He grabbed Baldwin by the front of his tunic and slammed him into the pillar, his other hand on the hilt of his sword. "Touch her and die." He whispered through gritted teeth. Genuine fear shot through Baldwin's eyes as he whispered urgently. "My Lord, are you alright?" Vahanian's vision cleared and he felt the rage and grief rapidly decline. He released Baldwin and shook his head, "Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry Baldwin.." Vahanian did nothing to reassure Baldwin with that statement, instead he seemed to stumble for a step or two before returning to his patrol. His mind whirling at the experience he'd just had.

Summer Evening

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

13 days, almost two full weeks, had passed since Timsen began his meditation on the temple roof. Tatiana had been fighting off despair for the last day, as her liege's breath grew shallower and ragged. She kept up his hydration with water and broth, but Timsen was so thin his skin stretched taut on his bones. Tatiana also kept up his exercises, working his muscles so they didn't completely atrophy. Her concern about the impact of his meditation on his swordfighting vanished some time ago, replaced with pure concern over Timsen's life. The spirit of the Slingers was also tested, as two weeks of doing nothing made the soldiers restless, and their morale weakened by their absent leader. Tatiana offered them words of encouragement from above, which helped, but soon the Slingers would show cracks. Tatiana sighed and stroked Timsen's head tenderly.

Timsen's spirit was lost in the rhythm of the magic and power, essentially becoming another living conduit for the earth below to channel into the world above. Strong, nurturing, protective earth. Timsen was lost in the rituals to the point where his sense of self was eroding. He was fading into the background of the world, merging with the essence of the world and in danger of being lost forever. Unfortunately, Timsen didn't care or consider the consequences at this point, in fact he couldn't have now if he tried. He was in this ride to the end. And the end was coming. One way or another.

The power flowed up through the tunnel in the earth and Timsen flowed with it.

Gavin

Temple Square - Shattered Vales

Gavin had been sat on a branch in a mighty oak tree all day pondering whether he should make a final donation to the Shattered Vales Shrine. The wilderness was calling him, he didn't like staying in one place too long but he felt a calling also to the Shrine to make a large symbolic gesture. As night fell he clambered down from his tree and marched purposefully to the Shrine where he stopped to root through his rucksack of precious collectables. Everyone seemed pleased that he had donated the beautiful rare mountain flowers so he produced two more bunches from his sack: one from the mountains and one from the woods. These he laid out in a delicate nest before digging right to the bottom of his sack to produce two parcels wrapped in velvet cloth. Carefully unwrapping them he revealed his most precious finds, two mysterious smooth portal stones. He placed them in the flower nests... "take these precious gifts Mother Goddess and bring my people health and happiness." He bowed low and retreated back to his tree to see what dreams awaited him.

23rd October

Summer Day

Yao Ling Pryde

Yao Ling led the menagerie of dancers and musicians, animal and human alike, out of the temple gate, careful to keep her letter from Kristina at easy hand. Kristina had said it would get her past any questions on the way in, and it had. It should get her back out as well. As long as she moved quickly enough to stay ahead of any possible word that the letter may be abrogated. Not that it was. Kristina had not gone to that length in her hearing. But it did not mean the other priestess would not on second thought. And so Yao Ling made certain to move her group as quickly as possible so as to say ahead of that second thought.

She got them out to the steps of the western gate in time to see Luto being led away towards what she assumed was their jail. Or hall of justice. Or whatever passed for it here. That man had been nothing but trouble since he had first appeared. And she really wished he hadn't brought his whole menagerie with him when he answered her call. But that couldn't be helped now. It was the past. And it did not take away from the fact that it was unfair to arrest a man for successfully defending himself from being murdered. Her unvoiced answer to Kristina's questions was that of COURSE she would find blame before taking action. One must ALWAYS know where blame lay before taking an action that could not be untaken. Yao Ling had learned that lesson long ago. Kristina was young. Perhaps she would learn it before she did something that could not be undone.

Yao Ling turned to look up at the column of light coming out of the temple and sighed. Of course, that is why she was here. Kristina had already done something that could not be undone by any work of man. And it was still undecided how that work would be completed. Until that happened, until it was done, Yao Ling had work to do. She turned to the musicians with her best confident smile as the sword grew hot in her hand once more.

"Play Nothoi The Fair," she ordered and the musicians blinked for a moment. Their leader, their shepherd, had been arrested. They were cast adrift, uncertain of what came next. Yao Ling smiled and gave them a "hurry up" gesture. They gulped and stumbled into the music. It was a bit more ragged than she would have liked at first, but Luto had found good musicians when he collected them, and they found their rhythm quickly.

Yao Ling glanced to the side to see that Betty had rhythm as well. And one of the temple guards appeared to be very pleased with it. And Betty seemed to be pleased to be pleasing him with it.

Yao Ling sighed, turned to the dancers with a more mischievous smile, and began the first steps of the traditional dance that went to 'Nothoi The Fair.'

And just like the musicians, the dancers were very good. They found the rhythm too, and the whole menagerie of animals and humans struck out from the Obian temple with an easy grace. Even Betty and the wolf she seemed to have collected, though they tarried a few seconds longer with the guard.

Yao Ling wondered if she wanted to know the story there. Then shrugged and decided she really didn't need to as she charted a course through the square towards the comforting walls of the Daishi temple. She idly wondered what the others in the square would think of this procession.

A woman arrayed in gleaming bright armor, even more gleaming now after getting a good wash of otherworldly water, dancing across the square. Holding a glowing sword in one hand. Followed by a menagerie of dancing and musicing (musiking? music playing?) animals and humans. It must be quite a show.

Yao Ling smiled at the thought and raised the burning hot wolf sword above her. Fireworks sprouted from the hilt, burning off the energy of the portal to create a fantastic light show above the dancing menagerie as they made their way to the temple of Daishi.

Because until the end of days and the breaking of the world, no matter what else happened, the show must go on...

Life must go on...

Summer Evening

Aibhlidhn Dubhaine

Outside the Temple - Ar Agyr Defensive Perimeter

"Indeed Mistress Wren," Alewyn raised his hands to show they were empty, "Sir Soren speaks truly. If you are at risk it is not from us."

He stepped slowly into the building so as not to further startle her.

"I am Aelwyn, Squire to Her Majesty Queen Aibhlidhn, and she requests your company. Her Majesty is to attend on the Grandmistress and feels your presence as part of her entourage would be advantageous. Why I cannot say but Her Majesty always has her reasons."

Wren

Outside the Temple - Ar Agyr Defensive Perimeter

"Wren is not in trouble if I can say anything about it," [...] He stayed back to a point that even his quarterstaff would not reach without some advancement. "Soren Navaar, Knight of Seven Rivers," he introduced himself. "I wrote to the local adventurers the other day, and I must say it's a pleasure to meet another member of the Agyrian Academy in person."

Resting his staff against his shoulder, he gave a friendly nod. "Be at ease."

Wren maintained her crouch, breath coming fast but quietly and senses on high alert as she watched first one, then another unfamiliar figure enter the room slowly.

"Indeed Mistress Wren," Alewyn raised his hands to show they were empty, "Sir Soren speaks truly. If you are at risk it is not from us."

"I am Aelwyn, Squire to Her Majesty Queen Aibhlidhn, and she requests your company. Her Majesty is to attend on the Grandmistress and feels your presence as part of her entourage would be advantageous. Why I cannot say but Her Majesty always has her reasons."

At the woman's words Wren blink-blinked and glanced around for proof to corroborate her statement. Badging in the colours of the Queen of Ar Agyr's retinue was indeed evident on the woman's uniform. And the man had mentioned the Academy... Wren rose to standing slowly, making sure to keep her hands peacefully at her sides and looking quickly between the two much taller warriors. They seemed honest, their words rang true.

Aware of her lowly rank among these warriors, Wren pulled a deep bow as Nerta had showed her to do.

"The Wren is at the service of her Queen of the North. How can I help?"

Soren Navaar

Outside the Temple - Ar Agyr Defensive Perimeter

Soren motioned for Wren to follow the squire and followed along quietly, inviting himself to the meeting. A thousand things ran through his mind all at once, bombarded with possibilities. Still, he was concerned for the situation, and he was in a unique position to be of some use. He had not lied about his reasoning to leave Obia'Syela, but he was still in contact with the Grandmistress, and on good terms with the realm despite having left them, not that he publicized those facts. He did wish he had his spear on him, but staff and sword were acceptable. He could get away with more carrying a staff anyway. It was usually considered a peasant's weapon, not something a noble would do much with.

Worried about his adventurer companion, he flashed her a friendly smile. "Looks like we're going to go stand before a couple of rulers, Wren," he said cheerfully. "You are going to be fine. I'll see to it, as long as it's within my ability."

24th October

Summer Evening

Yao Ling Pryde

A Daishi marching tune reached out to Yao Ling as she led her menagerie of human and animal musicians and dancers across the square. She smiled and motioned for her musicians to match the music coming out of the Daishi temple and they managed the shift quickly and easily. They truly were good at their job. The dancers showed they were just as good by flowing into the new tune with gusto.

The wolf sword began to burn again as she stepped into a Daishi temple that looked far different than the one she had left. Daishi temples had a bit of a reputation for being dark and dank. Surrounded by thick walls and generally built low to the ground, they looked more like fortresses than the towering structures other religions Yao Ling had seen preferred. There was no dome here to match the Obian temple for instance. There was a steeple with a statue of the cowled, armored god Daishi atop it, but people would have trouble sitting atop it as Timsen was doing now across the square. Well, his cowl was rather flat, so she supposed one could sit on him if one wanted. But she wasn’t sure he would approve of a mortal bum sitting atop his image.

Yao Ling looked down from that steeple to once again see everything that had changed since she left the temple mere... Hours? Minutes? Days? Time was sometimes a bit fluid when dealing with concentrations of magic the like of which the Obians had called here. However long she had been gone, the courtyard of the Daishi temple was now a giant party. Bright lights and flowery decorations filled it, and music and cheer and fun radiated off every wall. Luto had left most of his ritual behind when he followed her request to come help her support the ritual in the Obian temple. She’d thought he’d brought a lot of people with him. Now, seeing the full ritual of dancers and singers and musicians in front of her, she realized just how much he had left behind.

It was odd to see raccoons beating on drums. The goat tap dancing team on one of the stages was surreal. And it was a bit mind altering to see wolves and sheep dancing together like they were the best of friends. Humans and animals alike were simply having fun, and her little menagerie melted into the existing ritual without a second thought.

Yao Ling let out a long breath, glanced over at Betty, and chuckled.

“Once more into the breach, dear friend?” she asked.

“Always,” Betty answered and dove into the madness beyond the temple gate without hesitation.

Yao Ling shook her head and stepped past the temple guards defending the gate. It was odd, really. It felt so good to be back inside her temple. It was like an old friend, even if the friend had changed so much. She nodded and allowed the life and joy and fun bouncing around inside to fill her. Then she turned around to look at the dome of the Obian temple were Timsen sat, doing whatever it was he had been doing for so long.

The wolf sword burned in her hand, and she knew exactly what to do with the energy filling it. It came from the portal. It should go to someone else who was supporting it. She aimed the sword at Timsen, infused the life and fun and joy of the party ritual around her into the magic that inhabited it, and focused on sending it to Timsen.

Ryosuke Guile

The Daleish Corner

Making his continual patrols around the perimeter of the garden and checking in with all one hundred of the fighting men of the Dawnguard, Ryosuke is pleased with the focus his men are showing. After a few quiet words with his Captain at the end of his inspection, the young Hierophant watches as several of his soldiers slip away.

Knowing that the mission they are on will succeed, Ryosuke turns to the immaculately tended greensward that Bernard and Keeper Alice have brought into existence. Enjoying the blossoms, buds, and blooms of such multitudinous variety and colour, he begins to hum a small tune. Stepping forward, carefully so as to not damage the work being done by his fellow Dalefolk, Ryosuke arrives before Bernard and gently removes a scroll from within his long emerald robe.

"For you, as with the others, good Gardener. Let our garden thrive." Ryosuke says in his soft, lilting voice as he passes it over to Bernard and then drifts back to his continual circling and pacing, waiting for news of the success of his men.

Birthing Dreams

You dream of childbirth. Your own? You are uncertain.

Murmuring Light

Over the last week, many different phrases have been heard coming from within the column of light.

Wiknsu wljxl

Ugilqs ujhvj

Chp venj bqke?

Kwe al odbpd?

Yes ihtuoo zs?

Alice Schwarzherzig

The Daleish Corner

Alice smiled contentedly, her days spent in the garden had been mostly happy, save for a few periods when Bernard was wounded by foul magics, which were thankfully healed quickly. Alice loved tending the garden, the soil between her fingers, and the sound of Bernard's bagpipes made her quite content.

She recieved another set of scrolls, and made her way to Bernard, and presented them.

"I was thinking Gentle Bernard..." she spoke.

"If life and death are a cycle, and the taking of a life strengthens the ritual..." She leaned in close to Bernard, whispering in his ear...

"Perhaps creating a life could also strengthen it." She spoke, trailing a finger down Bernard's cheek.

Bernard

Bernard nodded with a smirk, and looking around to ensure no one was watching, took Alice's hand, leading her to a discreet, secretive corner of the garden where they would not be seen.

25th October

Summer Day

Rituals

The ritualwork of the Vales, Irondale, Obia, and Nothoi continued to grow brighter, with Vales having increased the most, Irondale secondmost, Obia third most, and Nothoi fourth most.

Vordul Sanguinis's ritual energy continued to fade.

Polli and Esdalot prepared to fight each other to the death, as Maurice and Luto, and Avice and Luto, had already done.

The brightest ritual was the Vales, considerably brighter than secondmost Obia'Syela and thirdmost Irondale. Fourth, far behind, was Nothoi. Thalmarkin's ritual was a dim glow in comparison.

Dolores, Viviane, Bernard, and Esdalot continued their ritualwork, while Luto waited in an Obian jail, and Polli prepared to kill or be killed.

Good omens of completion began to be seen throughout Keffa as the portal came to rest upon green, no longer rotating colours every 21 minutes. The murmuring voices grew louder.

Amkym sd gvxi? Tg e rgesg cjz? Yks ihtuoo zs? Nzh vnb xov?

Ehrich Weisz

The Square

The Vales Corner

Duke Ehrich had been reading about the place of mirrors in magical lore, windows to other perceptions and so forth. The later part of the week became devoted to trying to decipher meaning from the voices that murmured from the pillar of light. He consulted the Dame Dolores, "Can you make sense of these voices Dolores? How can we answer them if we cannot understand?"

He consulted books and friends for any insight they could offer. For now it seemed the best they could do was continue their ritual which seemed to be fairing well, and invited the commoners to continue their appeals of welcome and goodwill. Hoping their meaning might be understood more simply. Eventually the Duke could not resist returning to his books in search of greater understanding.

Fiorina Margaretener

A young Lady was preaching on the marketsquare:

This rituals have gone on for too long. Vast majority is not interested anymore in joining the even more exclusive clubs from allready VERY exclusive clubs.

Boredom will kill many of us before anything else. Spread out and tell them to go on with their rituals and for the sake of the majority of all realms, please stop clapping each others on the shoulder and get down to some work!

Summer Evening

Duel

Esdalot meets his challenger Polli for the agreed duel till death.

Polli has decided to use the 'aggressive' strategy while Esdalot has chosen the 'neutral' strategy, giving Polli the advantage.

The duel goes as planned, then badly for Esdalot. He suffers several slight wounds, then a final, fatal blow. The healers hurry, but they are too late.

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

Timsen was lucky, in the past few hours his condition had stabilized to something resembling normal breathing. Over the last day, Tatiana had called for healers to be brought to the temple roof, with the permission of the temple guards. Timsen's breathing had become very ragged, even stopping occasionally for a few seconds. The healers had done good work and kept his lungs moving, pumping by hand when they had to. Then something had obviously changed when Timsen's breathing returned to normal and relaxed. Perhaps the Lights becoming perma-Green was part of it, but Tatiana was grateful regardless and she fell into a deep sleep herself.

Spiritually, Timsen had no sense of self. He was with the Green. And it was Good.

Request from Aibhlidhn Dubhaine

Good Gentlefolk,

Whilst my bannerman could certainly have chosen his words more diplomatically I think the intent of them was very clear. He wasn't calling for anyone to be murdered, but rather implying that these rituals will unleash a being or beings likely to commit murder and that therefore perhaps those who are performing said rituals should have the decency to place themselves where for good or ill the consequences of their decisions will affect them first.

Currently you'll note that it's we Agyrians who are holding the perimeter of the Temple of Obeah and that it's we who will be the first - along with the Temple Guard - to put steel to any daemonic abomination which emerges. We do this because we have always put ourselves front and centre when threats from the Nether have arisen, and because as best I can tell everyone else sees only an opportunity for some kind of benefit.

I've made the Agyrian position clear from the beginning. If a blessing does somehow come from the working of sorceries beyond the understanding of any of those here present then good for whoever receives that blessing. We make no claim to that blessing. But if all goes to hell we will not stand idly by and let Keffa become the bridgehead for a new Invasion.

If you must all dabble in rituals and sorcery then at least also have the decency to send some of your troops to stand alongside my warriors.

Aibhlidhn Dubhaine

Queen of Ar Agyr

Royal of Ar Agyr

Duchess of Havilmark

Countess of Tepmona

Favourable Omens

Moira, Timsen, Saoirse, Alice, Ehrich, and Jecht discovered lost unique items.

Favourable Omens

The wizards and sages who had gathered within Keffa had come to Dolores, Viviane, Bernard, and Luto, convincing them and any with them, for the four mysterious nobles of Jarbosh to go with them.

Eventually the four returned, bearing unique items.

A Vial of Divine Floodwaters for Yao Ling. A mace named Porcupine for Valian Stone. A Prayerbook of Obeah for Kristina. A sword named Purifier for Vahanian.

Rumoured lost in the city was a sword meant for Emilia named Bloodlaw and an article of clothing, Arjan's Loincloth.

And then the four returned to the wizards and sages once more.

Favourable Omens

Various characters, Alice, Ehrich, Arjan, Gavin, Rufus, Yao Ling, who had been declared blessed, find themselves unusually fortunate to discover caches of abandoned gold no one else claims.

Yao Ling Pryde

I will fight with you, good Aibhldihn, should the time come to do so.

I have brought many weapons with me designed for combat against the Daimons, and will burn them all if need be if what comes through wishes our doom or subjegation.

I will stand with you should the time come.

Though I prey to the gods that it will not.

Moira

The Flow - Between the High Firmament and Mortal Lands

"Sheath your sword, Knight of the Balance," the columns of light had slowly settled into a warm green glow and from her high vantage point Moira was able to see the realms of Beluaterra laid out like a somewhat water-stained parchment beneath the now abating storm of the Flow, each realm a different colour somehow indicative of its character, "your debt is redeemed."

Moira was surprised to find herself doing as requested, the warm, calm voice possessing a power she had never before experienced.

"I am no Knight," she replied, "I forsook that right many decades ago. If indeed I ever truly possessed it."

"And yet Knight I name you, Moira of House Dubhaine," a figure stood before the two columns, a man of radiant countenance too bright for her eyes to clearly see, unarmed and modestly dressed yet with such authority as no King of the Mortal Realms could ever bear. Wisdom sat on His brow, born of timeless ages, and Grace was in His bearing.

She fell to her knees, head bowing and heart pumping fiercely. She had never felt such dread in her whole existence and yet at the same time she knew the danger was not because this man was her enemy but because He was Just and Absolute, the source of all Justice. Her dread was mixed with an overwhelming joy and euphoria, inseparable and unrelenting.

"I... I... I am not worthy," she stammered, "I have never been worthy."

"No indeed, you have never been worthy Knight of the Balance. And yet when you were called you did not hesitate. And when you were tested you did not falter," the figure moved towards her and her soul leapt with elation as He did so. Was this...?

"Are you...?" she could barely mouth the question.

"Mine is the Hand you have served so loyally all these years Moira," his voice was gentle as the summer ocean and yet at the same time as strong and irresistable as storm winds in the high mountain passes.

"Then you know my crimes Lord, and all the tragedy which I have sown," tears rolled down her cheeks as she remembered each and every time her justice had fallen short, "My Path of Convictions is a Path of Failure."

"All fall short Moira when called to account for my Balance weighs true and none are without fault," His hand rested gently on her head.

"Then how can I be worthy of forgiveness?" her face writhed with the anguish of a lifetime, released without reservation in that singular moment.

"I raised you up Moira and gave you power, as I have so many others. Like them you could have stood in that power and built a Path to Perdition," as she heard His words she seemed to look down beyond the lands of Battlemastera, down into a deep abyss beyond, and there she saw tracks unnumbered pressing ever onwards into the barren darkness, "Do you know how rare it is that a mortal willingly sets aside power?"

She shook her head, "No Lord."

"A Prince may hand his crown to another yet still will demand to be called a Prince. That is the way of the world below," there was sorrow in His voice and Moira's heart broke for the depth of it, "You alone of those I have raised up willingly set that power aside to do my will."

"I was not worthy of power Lord, I could not bear what it allowed me to do."

"And yet your Path of Conviction speaks of power well used Moira. How many innocents have slept soundly at night because you did not?"

"I do not know Lord. I only did what needed to be done."

"Arise Knight of the Balance, and be burdened no more."

Moira had not realised the weight upon her until it was gone. For more than four decades she'd wandered the world without station or wealth or privilege, rootless and dependent on the charity of others. The sword within whose steel she once boastfully claimed no other power could rule instead serving the most powerless and desperate. Only now did she understand the lesson.

Standing she found herself alone, her armour gone and in its place a mantle of simple cloth wrapped about her.

"Your work has just begun," the voice permeated the Flow in all directions, and high above, beyond the Highest Firmament, the Balance hung lopsided, "Moira, Knight of the Balance."

Yao Ling Pryde

The flow of magic in the wolf sword cut off and Yao Ling frowned for a moment.

Then she looked back to the portal column raising above the Obian temble and let out a long breath.

She lowered the sword and put a hand on the vial of holy water inside her shining armor.

Matters were coming to a conclusion, and her part in this was almost done.

Almost, but not entirely.

She turned to the dancing, singing, and music playing animals and humans filling the temple of Daishi and raised the vial of holy water and the sword once again.

"A happy song!" she shouted to them. "Joyful and fun!"

The musicians paused for a few seconds, conferring with each other, and then jumped into a new song that Yao Ling recognized in an instant.

So did the singers, and they started belting out "Joy to the world" even as the musicians settled down into the new tune.

Yao Ling turned back to the solid green column of light and prayed to the gods that the song would turn out true.

Portal Stones Explode

Lightning flies from the column of light towards any portal stones in Keffa, destroying them in bursts of explosions. Adventurers holding such stones are wounded by these explosions in proportion to how many portal stones they possess.

Letter from Valian Stone Daubeny

Queen Dubhaine,

The Ossmat Riot Guard stand with you in defence of Keffa should it come to such a thing, the Riot Guard have secured the inner Temple and guard the ritual, should something go wrong we will send word to you and the other defenders, we will try to hold back anything foul that comes out of the pillar as long as we can, hopefully long enough to evacuate the temple of none combatants.

For Obeah,

Valian Stone Daubeny

Knight of Ossmat

Family Wealth Boost

Being able to establish new and varied contacts across the continent with all the myriad of guests, each character's family is able to benefit from these contacts to expand the family's wealth with new economic ventures.

Letter from Ulv Schancke

The Army of the Vales stand ready and will make every effort to return any appearing Daemons.

Ulv Schancke

Duke of The Diamond Shard

Margrave of Ete City

Valian Stone Daubeny

Temple

Valian entered the Temple room, wielding his new mace Porcupine, he watched in horror as lightning shot out of the pillar but then missed the three praying before the pillar.

He watched the lightning shoot out the windows and hole in the roof.

He ran up to the rest of his unit which turned and formed a shield wall facing the pillar.

Valian pushed past the unit and came up standing behind Elizabeth looking determinedly into the pillar, ready to protect his niece and realm from anything that night come out of the pillar.

Just my Luck

Duncan dressed in a stylish black and orange suit, he gave Dancer a grin, his brown eyes glinting the chandelier light of the fancy store, Duncan whispered “Thank you my lord, I like the suit, it’s been a while since I looked this noble.”

Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck Duncan’s pocket and exploded, he fell to the ground in pain as his eyes flickered red.

He felt the Cordis Tenebris kick in and felt his wound already starting to seal up, he gave Dancer a pained smile “Sorry Lord, I might miss this one.”

Duncan’s mind slipped into a familiar darkness as his vision failed him and he fell unconscious.

Report from Ryosuke Guile

Irondale’s hosts stand ready within the Temple Grounds in case things go awry. The Dawnguard will be on the front line to restrain and beat back any for that might try to enter our world.

Vox Noctis,

Ryosuke Guile

Hierophant, Defence Minister of Irondale

Royal of Irondale

Duke of Prisma Noctis

Margrave of Firbalt

Pompatus, Goniolater, and Kastoranthropist

When the four, Dolores, Viviane, Bernard, and Luto, reappeared, it was in the Temple Square with the wizards and sages. Surrounding the four, the wizards and sages lay hands upon four, chanting melodically.

​​​​​​Completing their arcane ritual, the wizards turned their attention to Viviane. Each wizard offered a symbolic item of their lineage to Viviane, then stepped back to form a half circle behind her. When the last wizard completed the half circle, they announced in perfect unison, "the Pompatus of Obia'Syela!"

Meanwhile, the sages had turned their attention to Bernard. Each sage ripped a portion of their clothing and laid it within Bernard's right hand. The first sage then took his left hand, with the others taking the left-hand of the leftmost sage. When the last sage held the last hand, they announced in perfect unison, "the Goniolater of Irondale!"

This sage-ritual repeated for Luto, with the announcement, "the Kastoranthropist of Nothoi!"

Dolores stood, watching, as these rituals proceeded. Each of the three then filed past Dolores, pausing beside her before walking on. A somber look of understanding passed between them. And then they left the square to disappear, as the other sages and wizards were doing, the three having now become new wizards and sages.

Dolores looked to the temple where the light-columns resided and headed towards her final calling.

Betty

Betty had seen and met many strange things in her time in Keffa.

Dancing mice. Raccoons playing the drums. The wolf that now stood at her side.

But the sight that would forever stay where her till the end of her days was the chorus line of parrots doing the cha cha and singing "Joy to the world."

She was watching them when the crack of lightning flew through the open gate and struck her without warning.

"Ow!" Betty shouted, which felt surreal. She would have thought that a lightning bolt would have left her unable to speak.

"Ow!" she repeated as a second bolt slammed into her.

But it didn't actually hurt that much. Not as much as she would have thought a lightning bolt should have. There wasn't really anything enjoyable about it, but she wasn't injured. She thought. Which was really surreal.

That's when she saw the smoke coming out of her leathers. Out of a certain part of her leathers. Oh no.

She reached into the pocket and pulled the small sack where she kept them out. She opened it and the smoke escaped up into the sky. She groped her fingers around the bottom of the sack and looked up in time to see Yao Ling looking at her.

"They're gone," Betty reported. The two portal stones she'd carried into Keffa had evaporated into smoke.

Yao Ling nodded with the same calm look she reserved for every strange thing that happened around her. Then the older woman in a young woman's body turned to the silent menagerie filling the Daishi temple and bestowed a radiant smile on them.

"Rejoice!" Yao Ling shouted. "The portal stones are gone! The balance of nature and magic is restored!"

The crowd cheered with joy and the dance party expanded to unheard of heights.

Betty walked up to Yao Ling's side and looked across the square to the solid green column of light. She slipped the scorched sack back into her leathers and sighed.

"Do you really think this is good?" she asked and fingered the scorch mark on the outside of her leathers.

"Gods if I know," Yao Ling whispered. "But I hope so. I certainly hope so."

Jecht Tideweaver

Jecht was in an exterior temple when the portal stones exploded. He was in an outer chamber chatting with some dignitaries and fellow Heralds when it happened. As folks began to scramble a solider ran up to him.

"My Emperor, the Dame Dolores walks toward the beam of light in the sky! She is alone. Are we to stop her?!" panted the man out of breath.

"Take me." Jecht commanded.

Leading his sovereign to the site, Dolores had departed from her counterparts. The soldiers of the Vale had never abandoned their post, having kept a secure perimeter around the woman ready to strike down any foe who would cause her harm. They now looked to their Emperor, prepared to stop the woman if ordered.

Jecht looked towards the woman as she walked towards her fate. Hoping to make eye contact one last time. One last reassurance that this was meant to be, not a fate thrust upon her.

Timsen Quasath

Temple Dome

Timsen came back to his sense of self when, spiritually, a heavy vest of chain main hit him in the chest. He felt like he was underwater and the weight of the chainmail was dragging him, but the feeling was falling upwards. Timsen broke the surface of the spiritual world and returned to the city above as the power of the portals exploded.

Timsen's real eyes snapped open under the temporary shelter on the roof of the Obian temple then quickly snapped shut again from the relative brightness. Smiling against taunt skin, he croaked, "I'm back. Been a while, huh." Tatiana sagged with relief and let the healers tend to him, simply nodding acknowledgement of his return before yelling to the Slingers below that the Duke was back.

Trying to move and feeling a heavy weight against his chest, Timsen peers down and asks in disbelief, "When did I get chain mail?"

It Arrives

As Dolores nears the column of light, crystals throughout Keffa and surrounding regions begin trembling with crescendoing intensity.

Meanwhile, within the temple, the circle of portal stones also tremble a great deal. Approaching, Dolores kneels next to the column, close to the stones, praying and waiting. As she does, the column of light recedes from view, the second stones upon the temple dome extinguishing entirely, as the magical light retracts into the circle between the original stones.

And then explodes upward and outward, through any mundane material, and spreading throughout Keffa, it's surrounding regions, and towards the domains of Keffa's guests. Simultaneously, all crystals within Keffa and surrounding regions shatter. As this dies down, Dolores assures those present that this has helped ease the learning of spellcasting in those regions. She also mentions the arrival of seasons upon Beluaterra, with tomorrow as the first day of spring.

What is left between the stone circle is a view downward into darkness, appearing as if a vertical cave, but too dark to be certain. Rumours spread of a portal having opened to....some dark depths.

When a hand thrusts forth from below, Dolores is ready and reaches out to clasp it strongly. And when she does, is instantly turned to stone, leaving a sturdy handhold for whatever It was down there to pull itself up with.

A second hand grabbed the now-statue of Dolores. Up came someone, pulling his weight through the open portal. The circle of stones had been placed so closely together that It barely fit and it seemed the stones, in fact they were, were gradually squeezing shut. Stretching and straining, the Someone was doing their best to squeeze through.

Valian Stone Daubeny

The End?

Valian and the Riot Guard stood shoulder to shoulder shields raised, they stood before the door to the pillar.

Valian waited, he wondered if he should just let this be, he felt a small amount of pride for Vivane as she was proclaimed Pompatus but Valian couldn’t stand down, he wouldn’t stand down.

He nodded to his troops and they lowered their glaives “On our oath no one gets to the pillar without my say so, we will not give up, FOR OBEAH!”

Nyx Harte

Nyx cackles in the corner and slides her blade into a nearby peasant. Gleefully watching the blood spray outward onto he street.

She watched the cluster of nobles, eager for more. Blood all looked the same but it something about the river of noble blood that turned her on the most.

There was only so much of it in each noble body. Gold was replaceable. Troops were replaceable. But a finger? An Ear? Soft cheeks? Those could not be replaced.

She twirled her curved obsidian blade as she jumped from shadow to shadow. In terms of mischief and outrage, the small blade dancing in her hands was the most effective and controversial to wield.

Nyx slid through the throng of bodies packing the streets, sliding up against some of the most prominent faces on the continent. Like a panther in the jungle picking out its next victim.

Roleplaying Event

A hand offered, is a hand often taken, and this was no exception. First with one, the contact solidying that offered, then another both connected to arms in white sleeves. A semi-practiced movement later through a smaller than preferred gateway and an older gentleman had found himself someplace else, or rather someone else had found themselves here.

Before addressing those he found himself with, he kneeled down to reach through and grab his coat through the portal and then hummed a small tune that ended with branches reaching through the portal and pulling it closed.

Standing back up, those gathered had a clear view of this gentleman, which was the only way it seemed proper to describe him. Grayed hair, a trimmed beard and mustache, a white button up shirt, no tie, a dark brown sweater vest, and matching solid brown tweed coat and pants.

After taking a moment to put his coat on, smooth out the sleeves, and look around, "Ramwwevobbb," he spoke, a harsh otherworldly language.

"Mf eui ripn pdqvgvx O pjfp nfgymww. E yl ujh ntzbaenfbf, Arcturius. L razb kdw hwqk gysp rhmf bsz hnosi lcjh hhlowi so c zjxaqlkw bf dvsk qaorhcbn tqgum. T na clua okl nle isw apncp ucgyqggnvh rqaouoeyovvb fucjwy tm E bnnv rtxtiuvj esruznx xwijr gtrq evca ldro Z vui cmqgjxh ynhb dcmagvhvklcj."

26th October

Spring Day

Returned to Active Duty

The healers say your condition is improving.

You are recovering from your wounds, and able to act and send messages, though you can't do as much as usual in a day. You have returned to active duty. You are in Keffa.

A New Season

The season has turned and it is now Spring.

Valian Stone Daubeny

The End? Nope just a Old Guy

Valian and his men approached with weapons raised, he looked curiously at the gentleman “By Obeah what is he saying?” He heard Captain Tomasa mumble beside him.

Valian approaches slowly, ready to strike if needed.

Yao Ling Pryde

Yao Ling watched Luto, Viviane, and the two others come together, surrounded by the various sages and wizards that had filled Keffa recently.

"I knew it," Yao Ling whispered. "I knew they couldn't hold him."

"Did you?" Betty asked. "Really?"

"Well," Yao Ling said with a shrug. "Possibly it was a hope."

"Or a fear?" Betty asked.

"Or a fear," Yao Ling admitted.

They watched the ritual that seemed simple, but there were undercurrents far more complex, and then the various sages and wizards began to leave. As did Luto, Viviane, and one of the others, each going their separate ways. Leaving one of their number behind.

Yao Ling called Luto over, and he approached her with the same enigmatic smile he had always maintained.

"It's good to see you again," Yao Ling said as he approached easy conversation range.

His smile grew more amused. "I think that may be one of the less likely things you have said recently."

"You haven't HEARD half of the things I've said recently," Yao Ling returned and chuckled. "Though in truth, I AM actually happy you still live."

"Thank you," Luto said. "Though I must inform you that Luto is dead."

Yao Ling cocked her head to the side and examined hin carefully. "Are you telling me you are someone different?"

Luto smiled. "I go now to take up the life of a sage as the Kastoranthropist of Nothoi."

"I understand," Yao Ling said with a slow nod.

"I think that statement is also unlikely," Luto, or the Kastoranthropist of Nothoi, said with a smile.

"Perhaps," Yao Ling admitted. Then she aimed a sly smile at him. "But time and space are not as simple as some make them out to be. And if I learn to understand in the future, or did so in the past, than my statement will not have been incorrect."

The new sage cleared his throat, suspiciously sounding like he was covering up a snort of amusement. Then he turned to look at the menagerie celebrating behind her in the temple.

"They are good people," he said simply.

"Even the animals?" Yao Ling asked after following his gaze.

"Especially the animals," he said. Then he aimed a direct look at her. "Good day, Yao Ling."

"Good day, Kastro..than..ro," Yao Ling tried to say, but the tongue twister got the better of her. "Kastor..ant..po..."

Yao Ling cleared her throat. "Good day, Kastor."

The new Kastoranthropist of Nothoi chuckled and turned to leave the square of Keffa behind. Yao Ling assumed they would meet again, in another time and space. But for now he had left, and she looked out in time to see the last person they had left behind entering the Obian temple. So she would be the welcoming committee. Interesting.

Yao Ling stood in the gateway and watched the column of light as the people continued to party behind her. She was still watching when the few crystals in the temple of Daishi began to vibrate in their casings. Most people in the temple didn't notice, because there weren't many of them. But Yao Ling aimed a careful look at the ones near her and took a step back. That was when the green column of light sucked its way back into the temple, extinguishing the magical light that had lit Keffa for so long. And a moment later, it exploded back out, blowing through her with one final pulse that lit everything and then disappeared as quickly as it came. Just as every crystal in sight exploded.

Everyone in the temple noticed that, and the party came to a halt behind her.

Yao Ling turned to look at their uncertain faces. They had all seen great and terrible things of late, and it was obvious that it was getting a bit much for them.

"I do believe it is coming," Yao Ling said in her calmest of tones. Then she gave them her best radiant smile. "Let's welcome it with song and dance."

The musicians nodded in understanding and took up their instruments again. The singers and dancers followed, and the party was quickly back into full swing again, louder than ever. They really were good at what they did. She was going to have to take them home after this, assuming they all survived the next few minutes.

With that cheerful thought, Yao Ling turned back to the Obian temple...

Rufus

The Statue of Dolores

Rumours spread rapidly of the new mysterious visitor – and of the fate of Dolores. This disturbed Rufus from his vigil amongst the blossoming shrine. Forlornly he crafted a garland of flowers and leaves from the most beautiful plants and set out to the hectic temple. Most others were now either flocking to and fixated on the newcomer - or departing to seek items of lore. So Rufus quietly sought to make his way to adorn the statue of Dolores with the garland from her own shrine - as a final offering of thanks and farewell.

Ryosuke Guile

The Daleish Corner

Having concluded his lengthy departure letter and sealed it with the Golden Fox of Guile, Ryosuke stands from his temporary writing desk in the back of the Daleish Garden and sighs while looking over the beautiful space that Bernard and Alice had made. With a slow shake of his head, the young Hierophant walks carefully between the mounds and rows of the garden as he makes his way towards Captain Erich.

"It would seem Our informant was mistaken. Bring him in for... questioning." the Hierophant says as softly as a phantom as he passes the vigilant Dawnguard captain.

A quick salute, fist clasped by open palm, and Erich disappears alongside a couple of other Dawnguards. Sweeping his emerald and sable robe back, Ryosuke looks around one last time at the mass of humanity that has remained until the end of the pillar events and very subtly nods his head before stepping forth briskly towards his stabled mount, and the road that will take him home.

Emilia Delamoire

Emilia walked slowly toward Keffa, her bare feet bloody from the brambles and rocks she endured walking through the woods of Zwering. Her arms are crossed over her chest, barely keeping herself decent as the red dress she wears is in tatters, the back having been ripped to shreds, along with the skin beneath by the multiple strikes from the whip. Nearly a dozen lacerations line her thin back, with the blood having ran down her back and stained the canvas of her back in Crimson, and stained her ruby red dress into a deep red.

Her platinum blonde hair is disheveled, her face bruised, and the crushed coal she used for shadow in streaks down her face from the tears.

She staggers slightly, falling to one knee, but seeing Keffa close, hoping to find the Priestess of Ossmat she had met.. the only person who had shown her a sliver of kindness.

"Would they arrest her? turn her away? torture her more? kill her?" all these thoughts loomed in Emilia's head as she struggled back to her feet and began to walk again.

As she neared the town guard, they came out to her with a look of concern, to which she collapsed on the ground before them, unable to take another step.

"Priestess Yxevarii.. please.. I seek the Priestess named Yxevarii" Emilia begged at the gates of Keffa, tears coming to her eyes as she gave herself over to fate, wanting to escape the pain.

Elshon Geg

Thalmarkin Corner

Elshon watched as Esdalot fell in combat. Had he ate too much meat? He was called The Hunter, and not The Dueler for a reason Elshon supposed. Some grand actions happened elsewhere, but Elshon began preparing for the trip back to Thalmarkin.

An acolyte who was flipping items on the Grill asked Elshon, "What should we do with the meat?"

"Leave them and let the Grill burn out" remarked Elshon as he began to pack his things.

Moira

The Temple

Moira pulled the mantle close about her shoulders as if to stave off the cold and stood silently in awe as the two columns of portal energy converged. Such a sight was incredibly rare and she had not ever hoped to see it, especially not here in the Flow where its colours held a splendour and purity beyond anything mortal eye could discern.

Whatever sorcery Kristina had unleashed was finally running its course and far down below the astral and etheric realms the power of two portals was focused towards a single point at the heart of Keffa's cratered Temple. A high pitched whine accompanied their final collapse as a shaft of perfect light punched a hole clear through the fabric of mundane reality and briefly opened the way to somewhere utterly alien. The surging maelstrom raging beyond the Path of Conviction was on the instant dispelled and for a long moment she considered remaining here in the Flow, resting for a time from her labours, but the sense of ease she felt had infused her with a newfound zest for life.

She put her hand on the hilt of Lannceann MacTíre, "Time to call your brother home old friend, we have work to do."

The very next sight which met her eyes was a strangely garbed man clambering over a fallen statue before reaching behind him to produce an entirely consistent but equally unusual jacket.

She was pleased to realise the mantle was still wrapped about her shoulders, a battered, faded tartan of the kind worn by outlanders.

"You're a very long way from home my friend," she replied to the seemingly random string of vowels and consonants concealed behind his thick accent.

Timsen Quasath

Daishi Temple

The healers had forbade any travel yet for the Duke Timsen, only tolerating a short move to the Daishi temple from the dome of the Obian temple. The healers clucked like mother hens around Timsen and kept most other staff away. The scribe, Timoth, was allowed access to the Duke so he could send off letters, and his Captain Tatiana refused to leave Timsen's side. Timsen kept shooing the physicians away, sure he was fatigued but there was so much to do!

Timsen quickly heard the stories of the gentleman who had appeared from a hole in the earth. Not missing the connection, Timsen sent out Slingers to keep a watch on this visitor and report any news. Emerging from the earth, all proper and looking refined, Timsen took heart from the description. This was a good turn. As soon as he could leave relatively on his own power, Timsen would pay a visit...if the gentleman was still around.

Spring Evening

Wren

The sky above is a crystalline blue, and the city square calming to a more familiar level of clamor. The Wren looks about with wide eyes.

We have survived. No Daimons have come.

She turns back to the circle of Ar Agyrians and their Queen and bows deeply, waiting to be acknowledged.

Arrival

It, he, had arrived. It seemed he wanted to teach something, but he could not be understood. Nature had been the key to the welcoming rituals and the Vale's success, but something else would be key for interacting with him.

Ehrich Weisz

The Temple

Still possessing a letter of admittance from Grandmistress Saoirse, Duke Ehrich gathered up his books and manuscripts to make his way to the temple to behold the new mysterious visitor. The sacrifice Dolores had made implied the importance of the visitor could not be understated.

Simple introductions were challenging enough, and the petrified reminder of Dolores' statue made Ehrich inclined towards a respectful bow rather than handshake. The old wiseman's speech defied understanding, but the name Arcturius stood out from his other mutterings. It made sense that the proceeding words were a form of introduction so Ehrich attempted to imitate in broken terms, "E yl ujh "Librarian", Ehrich of the Shattered Vales." He attempted to punctuate his introduction with emphasis on the emblems of his Librorium guild and the flag of his realm. But running out of inspiration he was forced to concede, "I am sorry, I cannot understand your meaning. What is "ntzbaenfbf?" He implored, trying to stress the context of a question.

Hoping Arcturius might recognise more proper names he attempted to extend a welcome, "The Shattered Vales welcomed Dolores. The Shattered Vales now welcomes Arcturius."

Reaching an impasse, Ehrich attempted to gauge whether the old man would be animated by any from a range of various topics which he tried to represent with symbols or gestures. The scribes from the Vales recorded a radiant star on Arcturius's coat of arms. Ehrich displayed the crescent moon of his own coat of arms and motioned to the havens outside of the temple dome to appeal to the celestial courses, and the passing of seasons as the visitors arrival had coincided. Aware that the oldman had employed raw magic through music, Ehrich took out his prized artefact, the Doomed Flute of Madness. It was near impossible to produce a stable tune from the flute but he tried to gauge whether music might engage the stranger. Likewise he then presented the wide range of texts he had accumulated, including the book Dolores had bestowed to him and the many magic scrolls remaining in his collection. Having arrived from the earth, and caused considerable disruption to all crystaline elements Ehrich finally attempted to interest the visitor in some basic demonstrations of earthly alchemical compounds. As he proceeded through these attempts at simple communication, he watched carefully for signs of engagement and tried to exchange the meaning of these simple topics. The stars, music, library, magic and the elements of the earth.

Within his demonstration of magical lore, Ehrich's enthusiasm and desire to impress enticed him to invoke a simple ritual,

You carefully work the ritual inscribed on your scroll of Ecstasy.

You carefully perform the ritual described on the scroll, and when it finishes, you wait expectantly for something to happen. Nothing seems to. Disappointed, you clean up the area where you performed the ritual and start to head home, when you pass a comely peasant, and feel a sudden stirring of lust. By the time you have made it back, you have heard—and seen—many unmistakable signs that the scroll is working.

You have improved your spellcasting skill.

Gavin

Spotting the strange old man Arcturious, Gavin decided to introduce himself. "Meee Gaav-inn" he said slowly, nodding eagerly. "Meee give you giiffttt" and he beamed an even bigger smile. "Weee make these (and he frantically gestured hammering), for you" (he said pointing to the man). In a piece of green cloth were his humble gifts; an expensive well crafted toy, an ornate amulet and a beautiful crystal globe.

Aibhlidhn Dubhaine

"Mistress Wren!" the Queen seemed genuinely pleased to see the nervous young woman, "I'm glad you were able to make it. I had intended to make straight for the Palace and discuss events with the Grandmistress but it seems events progress faster than anticipated. Something has happened inside the Temple of Obeah and I would be remiss not to investigate. Will you accompany me? I value your opinion in these matters."