Leviathan's Scourge

[Herskerstad]

OOC thread - viewtopic.php?f=31&t=342638

A journey inquires in normality a fixed destination or at the very least an exodus from the past, and in this pilgrimage both trials, tribulations, adventure, losses and revelations that will stick with us on this permanent voyage. It is my hope as a GM that this experience will endow those who invest in it fruits that will serve both to ignite their imagination and forbearance that will endure in use beyond this event. With that, I welcome you to Leviathan’s scourge.

GM’s advice.

Start scouting, building to the primitive degree that you can, and most importantly contact other tribes so you can develop also on your own. You may get TG’s or posts from the GM that will highlight dilemmas that you may be required to resolve and you should look at the rules in regards to the ADECMIL modifier, but other than that, have fun!

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“I should think in sober providence of our surroundings as well as our kindred intent that one would be right to inquire who truly is the monster and the hunter.” - ???

Vitali was a world which seemed drowned in snow, yet whom beast and men alike often did travel rarely in solitary, but rather in packs. Monsters which migrated, beasts which birched, scourges which settled and horrors which made homes where true life had once settled. A harsh world which put seemed to be on a great decline until the first light had made itself known to a few, which now carried the hope of such desolate region, yet as a path it would be harsh, for where sentient rightfully would make enemies of the monsters, the wandering Mangrel, often referred to as Mongrel would know such truth better than most. Yet Dante was on a purpose of itself, and to him it was akin to the chief of purposes each years as he travelled across the land, hills, sea and forests of the world, making a note to himself of all his discoveries, but braving towards the ever extraordinary silloute of an area which humbled all other in size, it was the great mountain of the end which it’s glorious form, different to all other mountains, stretched far up in defiance of the heavens themselves. At the feet of this behemoth of nature, one could, but gaze at the majesty of it.

It was still in great contrast to the mighty anatomy of the mountains that he would endeavour to take climb at this time of year. He would climb, nay, rise, as if taking flight and brave said walls up on what some would consider a perilous climb given his sickly disposition, each step a risk which he fate towards the great apex in which the landscape would wholesomely embrace him. At the final step there was the zenith which formed something of a cradle and would gift the journeyman with a sight that triumphed most of the horizon. It was by this that he endeavoured annually for it was custom of him to appear and watch the birds migrate at this chosen appointment of the seasons towards the horizon which would within moments see first light break. The wind was strong, but carried with it remnants from no less than the continents themselves. For while he permanently travelled, the yearly calculation of his journeys would be in this platform that seemed to subjugated the entire world. The time of his reflection was nigh on this one moment where he could witness true beauty, as the birds took to the air and set course towards the brave beyond, their wings silhouetted in the breaking light which became ever more bright.

As the first light of dawn was about to breach the angelic curtain of night as he sat down, and wrote the following in which he had observed through his travels.

“For the light striketh at first light after the darkness on a tribe most strong, which the appointed hour reach towards her emitting beauty in which they would rely, made harsh of the nature and enlightened by the moon to whom dreams radiate knowledge yet unknown. Their freezing blood is heaven’s red as they leave deep, red footprints on the ever-thickening heritage of the blizzard. Siphoning the energy of that which the eye can notice and what goes beyond. Fostered on the pearls of snow their character rise and with light ablaze they grow. The wind ferries the message and the lore settles itself in mystical union with the figures themselves. Trustworthy in their demeanor yet holds a maelstrom of merit in their approach, never to be taken lightly nor to easily betray their sacred duty, they will carry their culture and tidings towards civilization as the light makes pilgrimage from Leviathan to Zenith as the their seed has been planted and their fate embarked on the voyage of enlightenment, yet, not all truths are the destinations in which hope would charter, a light in the darkness, Tarsonis rise.

Still the light would also touch on the beings of wisdom, elevating her council into the celestial realm of transcended understandings which neither the mind nor eye would stand privy to. In such mystical radiance would the Nilal surge fourth to commune with forces that would to other be unknown, known as magic. This marriage of reason to that with transcended nature would produce fruits in their ever delegate rationale and be a blessing to those who bless them, and bring down destructions of multiple dimensions on those who seek them woe. The light thus in her splendor and majesty elevated a higher being too thus be guide this force. Behold as the very stars themselves in their solitary isolation would beam their radiance in witness to the advancement of these creatures.

Yet the light in her celestial beauty would not always shy away from the darkness of intent, and born from this unholy union were reprobate creatures of the dark. Which in the ally of said obsidian nature would pry with a devious patience and be have their endeavours be crowned by guile as well as ferocious strength. The Arachnae, risen from the ashes would surge in terrifying splendour to colonize from darkness into the reaches of the day. Yet such creatures were not without companions. The Rattus, as fierce as they are numerous, colluding with the might of the Sator whom in their scaled splendor could frighten any mortal man had made a pact upon this perverted light that would see them prosper together, no doubt at the expense of that which stood not prepared. Daybreak would strike, and their nature would fear it no longer as the Rhû Nór would not be limited to the underground anymore.

However to all the light will not share, as evident in the ever illusive Khal’s. Fiercely independent and collective only unto their own kin, they beheld to forge a great power of tradition which would be the cradle for their order. To whom trespassing is equated to sacrilege and which all travelers should approach with outmost reverence least they ignite an inferno that shalt not lay evidence to a trace. For while the light is untamed, they may forge it’s obedience through the ages on which the earth itself will lay record in the great infinity of time which neither snow nor time will fade. As the sun strikes its zenith these elect will reflect the glory of the beyond they yet do not know, as their determined heart and resolved mind put down the seeds of their civilization.

When the sun strike at its zenith there is no greater worship of its radiance than by the fair-skinned people of Tyril, for here there is spectacle and regenerated reverence for each gift the light gives. In perfect harmony various communes gathered to feast on the gifts that the magnanimous spectacle had to give out and there are no other creatures more attached to the world and its glory, even in such desperate times they cultivate everything into a great festival in which the light itself is the high priestess worthy of all reverence and holy for all that is created. Yet through such advantage they gain a more intimate touch to the merciless land they harbor and will follow such perfect radiance towards a brave new dawn, worshiping the light reflected in the glories of the azure water.

Yet on the closing of the dawn the people of Firax make summons encircled around the great flame. For fire and the emitted, ruby volumes of light that course through their veins give fuel to their purpose. Such flare gives purpose that will expand and stand fiercely towards any opposition that the harshest cold could perpetrate against such a fiery collection of individuals, who know what is their sustainer and that which grants them power, and the vapors from this great fire, itself a haven of the light, will trail and paint the heavens themselves with their purpose, as they now arise to challenge even the stars themselves.

However the cycle is predestined to continue again and again, as when the last light strikes over the seas near Serat, it’s volumetric brilliance entrapping spreading towards the horizon and gleaming on the azure brilliance of the sea as a new light comes over the world, in which pale eyes glow in the dim surroundings. Commandeering early crafts that brave the seas towards new horizons and wisely making an approach of food with not the hostility found above the waters, but the bountiful harvest in the deep ocean. Relying on the courageous winds to spirit them towards the events that is to come as the horizon reveals itself towards the dusk of fate. “

He breathed out a long breath, and simply told himself. “I will stand the ground that I hath been giveth until the fated hour. The new seeds have been sown, and their trees will develop in their own nature be them twisted or straight, and the fruits weather of virtue or vice shall be that which feeds the world.”

[Tutukerala]

I guess I start then



Chap
The days of this age are extremely busy for all the tribesmen. As the Grand Chief I must prepare the tribe for the blizzard season. I sent out a letter to all the villages, ordering that they come to Kochi. I with the Council of Chiefs approved a plan to hibernate during this extreme weather. The plan was that all villages would move in the capital. We have proper medicines and of course a way to keep warm. I want all my brethren here. We have also decided to build up military camps, to protect the city. And tent making is going at a boom. We need the fur and skin of the Chacka Bear. Their elastic skin is invincible for tents and their fur can keep the tent warm. We killed many, but the thing is the females cannot keep up with the supply. I will give them rest soon, but we must finish this. The meat of the Bear is extremely good, especially with our limited amount of spices we could use. But we need the plants we consume and we use as medicines. I said we could make a large tent and sort of make, a farm out of it. I will get some mages to put some spells, to keep it growing. Our horses all died, it is extremely difficult to go hunting. I said we could steal the horses of the garbage people's villages, the ones we made slaves of. They put up no fight. Actually they might die out leaving us, to scavenge their homes. I with the help of others set apart space for the villages. We also started making fires around the city. Though we will survive, I am not sure at what cost.

3rd day of Exdous 200 years after the reign of the First Grand Chief

[Fernanza]

Here I go then

I have been assigned to manage the resources and most operations of my tribe

I first start by making sure we have a nice surplus of food. That might make things easier in the long run. I also sent scouts to the surrounding areas and some scout ships to the sea

Commanders of the military also asked me for some improvements in the military. Maybe if I could improve the design of the bow...

[Setinel]

After 5 weeks the Khal tribes have finally decided where to settle.

We're located south in a very mountainous terrain.

The tribe leaders have begun buildin sepsrate villages apart from each other. The cold is brutal here. We've managed to make several large insulated tents. The rest are smaller family sized.

We've begun looking into the construction of larger more durable buildings, and are attempting to make a value system of sorts in exchange for goods and services.

[Firstaria]

Yet on the closing of the dawn the people of Firax make summons encircled around the great flame. For fire and the emitted, ruby volumes of light that course through their veins give fuel to their purpose. Such flare gives purpose that will expand and stand fiercely towards any opposition that the harshest cold could perpetrate against such a fiery collection of individuals, who know what is their sustain and that which grants them power, and the vapors from this great fire, itself a haven of the light, will trail and paint the heavens themselves with their purpose, as they now arise to challenge even the stars themselves.

Firax Aruk-Weil Settlement

Kait Minos was around the Aruk flame with his people, gathered to discuss about the birth of the settlement and the new mansion they all had.

" My people, we have found a place hidden by the abyss of the Ruk, a land we can call home, where the Aruk shows his might and prepares to the assault that his opponent will do. I'm proud to be your Aruk-Weil, and as such I demand from you the joy of having found an home, but not the solace that it should bring. We are surrounded by the abyss and the howling Ruk, but in the chaos of the fighing forces of destruction, a path is forged for us to cross.

A group of chosen, who will carry the might of the Aruk, will cross the abyss where the cold Ruk have created treacherous passages, and will go North in search of traces. if another Aruk tribes, other than the Aruk-Firax, exist, it must be found so that we can unite against the beasts that haunt us. Also, we will need to find trees and rocks, to build our defences and our tools, using our Firax blood too to prepare ourselves to defend this Aruk source. Once we will be ready, we will also hunt the beasts of Ruk, and their flesh will be burned to sustain our being, so that we will be ready when the Aruk will call us to fight for it. So the Aruk-Weil spoke. "

The other tribesmen shouted in fiercely accordance with the words of their leader. The Firax had an home now. It was their job to make sure the Ruk would not claim it, and with it their lives.

[Furry Alairia and Algeria]

Alaabast-Liruga Settlement
Midday

Jessixa was inside her stone house. She laid on her bed, and was thinking to herself.Thinking about the Babahlese to herself. She thought about the last time they attacked, how they massacred the people. How the villagers were almost defenseless, until a stranger cam, with a group of men, and made the Babahlese flee. He was the only one that helped Alaabast and Ligura when no one else did. She still thinks about him, and where he could possibly be.

A bell started to ring furiously outside. The scouts have come back with their swords dripping in blood while they exposed some gashes of their own. Furiously, the settlers rushed over in a attempt to heal them. The scout leader, Tenma Jusin, started to speak in a raspy, saddened tone.

"We encountered some Babahlese on the way here. For a normal armed man, it would have usually been no big deal, but they managed to ambush and corner us, and through valor, we successfully escaped. Such is a phyrric victory, and we have little people to spare in order to defend. We need fortifications up around the settlement in order to hold back the Babahlese. Only then will we be able to escape during their attack. We cannot stay much longer. Everyone, pack your things. We must move to Borganian territory, post haste!"

Jessixa and other settles started to panic, however Jessixa was not about to let the Babahlese get her. She was determined to defend Alaabast-Liruga. She went to a large block of wood and stood on it, and soon she started to speak.

"Men and women, we must not back down from the Babahlese. We must defend against them! We need to in order to find a weakpoint in the Babahlese army. We need to start planning a defense. Send the remaining scout troops to Alaabast-Cahdapia, and then we'll get a sizable force in order told hold the Babahlese. We also need the villagers to drop their hoes and rakes and start grabbing hammers and spears. We need to defend this village, and I know I will, with the bow and arrow.

The settlers and scouts cheered in unison, and they all got to work as soon as possible. The scouts started heading to Alaabast-Cahdapia, while the villagers started to craft weapons out of wood and stone, while Jessica took her well-crafted longbow and her group of arrows, and secured them.

She walked back outside, and found wooden and stone structures that were becoming built and lain out by excess villager militia. Meanwhile, other villagers started to train with their own access of weaponry, such as bows and spears. The villagers were rigorously sweating while they impaled hay targets.

Sunset started to approach, and a scout that was to be sent from Alaabast-Cahdapia had arrived back after deferring orders and spied on the Babahlese attack.

"Sir, I found something much much more interesting about the attacking Babahlese. We found out their movement trajectory. They lack a number of horses, and only have swords to combat. If we can, we should be able to create archers and peltasts to hold back the Babahlese. If we can do that, we may be able to hold off the first Babahlese wave and allow for the Alaabastian-Cahdapian military reinforcements to come through the back, and be able to sneak them to the sides and back of the Babahlese camp, and entrap their flanks!"

"That's...actually not a very bad plan. Hurry up, post haste, and continue spying on the Babahlese movement. I shall tell the trainers that they are training Archers and Horsemen."

"Yes sir!"

And with that, the scout left, and ran off into the forests in order to continue spying on the Babahlese.

Sunset was over, and night had fallen. Torches on the sides of buildings were lit, and people were exhausted from training all day. Jessixa was still up, and walked the streets alone. She walked full circles around the village, but at the third time, something in the forest caught her eye. Something red.

Jessixa walked over to it, not knowing what it was. Was it a Babahlese? Was it a gleaming red jewel? Was it the eyes of a demon? What it could possibly be was a mystery. As she walked over, she heard moaning, and saw a horrific scene. The scout dangling from the treetops nearly dead from a bludgeoning. She screamed loud enough, and looked around, and made the scout drop down onto his pack to the ground. She picked the scout up, and carried him back home with her strength, and entered her home. She laid the scout onto her spare bed on the first floor, and undressed her whitish garments. A long dress and a small shirt, and washed them, and left them on the window to dry. She then laid her head on the pillow, and closed her eyes, and soon reality faded away. She was in her own dream world, one where she never knew what she was doing.

[Setinel]

Unphantomable storms have recently come high above, tents have been reported to suffer all from minor damage to completely be taken by the wind and the people suffer greatly from attrition as food and water is scarce. In regards to this, an adviser enters in and lays down the following with a startled tone. " I fear that harsh winds are upon us and the people have taken to despair, the storm shows no signs of letting up and the situation needs to be rectified. We could either send out scouts and hope that they find a better location inside the mountains should caves be able to better support us, or we could try to look for ways to better fortify the tents and make them resistant to these great winds. While this last option would be costly, it could prove our only chance should none of the latter work. We could migrate to the bottom of the mountains, yet, in doing so, we could be threatened by the nearby creatures that are quite hostile. How should we approach?"


Vex streemed a line of profanity, to the shock of the council around him, and the horrified family's around them in the tent.
He sighed, and the tent wet silent. The only noise was the occasional crackle of the fire, and the breathing of much larger than normal Khal in the very back of the tent.
"What do you think?" He aske the advisors aroun the table. "There's no way we'll migrate out of the storm," he paused as the others nodded in agreement. But before he could start again, another councilmen spoke up. "The Khal face any challenge. But this will be a tough fought battle against an unpredictable force."
Vex nodded. "We can scout the caves, but they would make for horrendous conditions, and there's no chance they exist."
"And of course the chances that these tents could be improved is a bit of a risk."
The smallest councilmen spoke. Not strong, but smart, and cunning. "I say we look to fortify the tents. I'm not sure how many Carn have died, but I don't doubt they will. Their fur could be used to make the tents heavier. That is out goal yes? Stronger, heavier. Make the tents of layers."
Vex stood, taking his staff, and pulling up his hood. "Very well. Any objections?"
No one spoke. Silence fell over the encampment once again.
"Then it's settled. We'll look to fortify the tents. Back to your homes. Until then, neighbors will have to share. Dismissed."
The council dispersed throughout the tent for their spreads villages, hoping the outcome wouldn't be as grim as it had the potential to become.

[Herskerstad]

Alaabast-Liruga Settlement
Midday

Jessixa was inside her stone house. She laid on her bed, and was thinking to herself.Thinking about the Babahlese to herself. She thought about the last time they attacked, how they massacred the people. How the villagers were almost defenseless, until a stranger cam, with a group of men, and made the Babahlese flee. He was the only one that helped Alaabast and Ligura when no one else did. She still thinks about him, and where he could possibly be.

A bell started to ring furiously outside. The scouts have come back with their swords dripping in blood while they exposed some gashes of their own. Furiously, the settlers rushed over in a attempt to heal them. The scout leader, Tenma Jusin, started to speak in a raspy, saddened tone.

"We encountered some Babahlese on the way here. For a normal armed man, it would have usually been no big deal, but they managed to ambush and corner us, and through valor, we successfully escaped. Such is a phyrric victory, and we have little people to spare in order to defend. We need fortifications up around the settlement in order to hold back the Babahlese. Only then will we be able to escape during their attack. We cannot stay much longer. Everyone, pack your things. We must move to Borganian territory, post haste!"

Jessixa and other settles started to panic, however Jessixa was not about to let the Babahlese get her. She was determined to defend Alaabast-Liruga. She went to a large block of wood and stood on it, and soon she started to speak.

"Men and women, we must not back down from the Babahlese. We must defend against them! We need to in order to find a weakpoint in the Babahlese army. We need to start planning a defense. Send the remaining scout troops to Alaabast-Cahdapia, and then we'll get a sizable force in order told hold the Babahlese. We also need the villagers to drop their hoes and rakes and start grabbing hammers and spears. We need to defend this village, and I know I will, with the bow and arrow.

The settlers and scouts cheered in unison, and they all got to work as soon as possible. The scouts started heading to Alaabast-Cahdapia, while the villagers started to craft weapons out of wood and stone, while Jessica took her well-crafted longbow and her group of arrows, and secured them.

She walked back outside, and found wooden and stone structures that were becoming built and lain out by excess villager militia. Meanwhile, other villagers started to train with their own access of weaponry, such as bows and spears. The villagers were rigorously sweating while they impaled hay targets.

Sunset started to approach, and a scout that was to be sent from Alaabast-Cahdapia had arrived back after deferring orders and spied on the Babahlese attack.

"Sir, I found something much much more interesting about the attacking Babahlese. We found out their movement trajectory. They lack a number of horses, and only have swords to combat. If we can, we should be able to create archers and peltasts to hold back the Babahlese. If we can do that, we may be able to hold off the first Babahlese wave and allow for the Alaabastian-Cahdapian military reinforcements to come through the back, and be able to sneak them to the sides and back of the Babahlese camp, and entrap their flanks!"

"That's...actually not a very bad plan. Hurry up, post haste, and continue spying on the Babahlese movement. I shall tell the trainers that they are training Archers and Horsemen."

"Yes sir!"

And with that, the scout left, and ran off into the forests in order to continue spying on the Babahlese.

Sunset was over, and night had fallen. Torches on the sides of buildings were lit, and people were exhausted from training all day. Jessixa was still up, and walked the streets alone. She walked full circles around the village, but at the third time, something in the forest caught her eye. Something red.

Jessixa walked over to it, not knowing what it was. Was it a Babahlese? Was it a gleaming red jewel? Was it the eyes of a demon? What it could possibly be was a mystery. As she walked over, she heard moaning, and saw a horrific scene. The scout dangling from the treetops nearly dead from a bludgeoning. She screamed loud enough, and looked around, and made the scout drop down onto his pack to the ground. She picked the scout up, and carried him back home with her strength, and entered her home. She laid the scout onto her spare bed on the first floor, and undressed her whitish garments. A long dress and a small shirt, and washed them, and left them on the window to dry. She then laid her head on the pillow, and closed her eyes, and soon reality faded away. She was in her own dream world, one where she never knew what she was doing.

Alaabast-Liruga

‘A shadow quenched the light which had radiated over the village, yet it carried with it a melancholy tone rather than any level of ferocity. The stars still in unison with the moon that was settling into the azure background. There was a sense of solemn hollow over the village, as even the lesser trees seem to prostrate towards the dissipating light, and while the hearts of the populace burned with worry of that which was beyond, little attention was paid to that which had already by the graces of the shadow made itself into the village. Dante had seen the onset of that most sacred hour in which the sun itself would barely grace the moon on the onset of first light, and he was all too familiar with this angelic scene which would depart volumetric lights that pierced even the most solemn of minds. For he had with time acquainted himself with the darkness and how so many species would subconsciously avoid deeper exploration of it, allowing him to get closer from the exterior of the village to the interior, for he was very much a slave to curiosity on how beings reacted to light if any reactions at all. For the lunar blessings coupled with the glory of the sun was a sign either of a kindred sharing, or a warning of strife to come. Or at least, that was his theory, which would either by pure incident or sage observation manifest itself at a higher plane of consciousness.’

‘First light dawned with a great sound of the horizon, and the sun herself seemed to crown the settling moon forming something akin to a hollow eye which now was firmly fixed on the village. The light itself growing ever stronger as it divined its way towards the village, yet, this was no benevolent light as It burned all that it caught on towards, within a few seconds setting both home and creature ablaze, yet evil news emerged on the horizon as shadows approached quite defiant to this light, as if made of a lesser iron they approached the outskirts of the town itself while her inhabitants suffered in silence and dread, until they for a single moment stood still and revealed their red, glowing eyes. Within a second they forced themselves with an astounding speed into the village, killing all that was in the most brutal way, impervious to the light they made a great slaughter which was not simply methodical, but had a distinct tone of personal malice in the dispensation of their. Not a single tree was spared the fate of being burned, nor was a single person spared the various gruesome ways that they were dispatched off by these agents of malice. A door was kicked in, and Jessixa could see something which resembled a mix between an iron bird an a human barge in, not a hint of mercy, but the most terrifying was the aura it emitted, nearly as if steel had been spiritualized in intent while possessing an emissary of plain hatred which could only summon a feeling, nay, a desire for death.’

‘Indeed, the very ground itself gave way until what remained of the village was floating above a great hollow divide. The stench of blood was so thick it made a mist and only the stars bore witnesses to this spectacle, and only silver rain was the respite upon the dead in the village. Yet, there was an unknown apparition which had in the shadows itself unknown by others been at the center of this spectacles, and while the beasts themselves made a retreat into oblivion when this shade became ever more evident. Indeed, all that was left was this being and the remains of a child slain, which on angels wings made exodus from said existence. A noise was heard from the living shadow which asphyxiated hope itself.’

“Betrayer, oh traitor, does thou seek respite and take flight from both cause held dear and old friend? I would see you remain.”

‘The shadow spent less than a moment to levitate up to this creature and with a force that transcended the physical and intermarried the realms beyond, slowly tore off said wings with a grim certainty and knowledge of what was being done. A scream, nay, more something equivalent to a gasp was being heard despite its ironborne sound as life, or something akin to it, was pressed back into the being, the entire realm and existence seemed trapped in a quagmire of malice the fall was made from heaven down, down, straight towards Jessixa, before it collided and a brief moment of darkness ensued. Yet, the town was whole, not a casualty had been sustained, and all was at it had been before with a lone exception. Which was a less than conscious Dante laying collapsed just outside the home of Jessixa, no longer quite as hidden. Muttering things which would be unintelligible.’

[Tutukerala]

Chap

The move has gone well. As planned all the villages moved in. We got the tents made. Having such a surplus in time I decided to send some soldiers and mages to destroy the garbage people's villages and steal anything of value. So far we are self reliant needing no outside intervention. So I have decided to send military recruits to one of hidden territories. There lies a military camp, we shall train our Army and our Navy there. They only problem we have encountered our these forgieners coming into our tribal lands. So we shall wipe them out.

[Furry Alairia and Algeria]

Alaabast-Liruga Settlement
Midday

Jessixa was inside her stone house. She laid on her bed, and was thinking to herself.Thinking about the Babahlese to herself. She thought about the last time they attacked, how they massacred the people. How the villagers were almost defenseless, until a stranger cam, with a group of men, and made the Babahlese flee. He was the only one that helped Alaabast and Ligura when no one else did. She still thinks about him, and where he could possibly be.

A bell started to ring furiously outside. The scouts have come back with their swords dripping in blood while they exposed some gashes of their own. Furiously, the settlers rushed over in a attempt to heal them. The scout leader, Tenma Jusin, started to speak in a raspy, saddened tone.

"We encountered some Babahlese on the way here. For a normal armed man, it would have usually been no big deal, but they managed to ambush and corner us, and through valor, we successfully escaped. Such is a phyrric victory, and we have little people to spare in order to defend. We need fortifications up around the settlement in order to hold back the Babahlese. Only then will we be able to escape during their attack. We cannot stay much longer. Everyone, pack your things. We must move to Borganian territory, post haste!"

Jessixa and other settles started to panic, however Jessixa was not about to let the Babahlese get her. She was determined to defend Alaabast-Liruga. She went to a large block of wood and stood on it, and soon she started to speak.

"Men and women, we must not back down from the Babahlese. We must defend against them! We need to in order to find a weakpoint in the Babahlese army. We need to start planning a defense. Send the remaining scout troops to Alaabast-Cahdapia, and then we'll get a sizable force in order told hold the Babahlese. We also need the villagers to drop their hoes and rakes and start grabbing hammers and spears. We need to defend this village, and I know I will, with the bow and arrow.

The settlers and scouts cheered in unison, and they all got to work as soon as possible. The scouts started heading to Alaabast-Cahdapia, while the villagers started to craft weapons out of wood and stone, while Jessica took her well-crafted longbow and her group of arrows, and secured them.

She walked back outside, and found wooden and stone structures that were becoming built and lain out by excess villager militia. Meanwhile, other villagers started to train with their own access of weaponry, such as bows and spears. The villagers were rigorously sweating while they impaled hay targets.

Sunset started to approach, and a scout that was to be sent from Alaabast-Cahdapia had arrived back after deferring orders and spied on the Babahlese attack.

"Sir, I found something much much more interesting about the attacking Babahlese. We found out their movement trajectory. They lack a number of horses, and only have swords to combat. If we can, we should be able to create archers and peltasts to hold back the Babahlese. If we can do that, we may be able to hold off the first Babahlese wave and allow for the Alaabastian-Cahdapian military reinforcements to come through the back, and be able to sneak them to the sides and back of the Babahlese camp, and entrap their flanks!"

"That's...actually not a very bad plan. Hurry up, post haste, and continue spying on the Babahlese movement. I shall tell the trainers that they are training Archers and Horsemen."

"Yes sir!"

And with that, the scout left, and ran off into the forests in order to continue spying on the Babahlese.

Sunset was over, and night had fallen. Torches on the sides of buildings were lit, and people were exhausted from training all day. Jessixa was still up, and walked the streets alone. She walked full circles around the village, but at the third time, something in the forest caught her eye. Something red.

Jessixa walked over to it, not knowing what it was. Was it a Babahlese? Was it a gleaming red jewel? Was it the eyes of a demon? What it could possibly be was a mystery. As she walked over, she heard moaning, and saw a horrific scene. The scout dangling from the treetops nearly dead from a bludgeoning. She screamed loud enough, and looked around, and made the scout drop down onto his pack to the ground. She picked the scout up, and carried him back home with her strength, and entered her home. She laid the scout onto her spare bed on the first floor, and undressed her whitish garments. A long dress and a small shirt, and washed them, and left them on the window to dry. She then laid her head on the pillow, and closed her eyes, and soon reality faded away. She was in her own dream world, one where she never knew what she was doing.

Alaabast-Liruga

‘A shadow quenched the light which had radiated over the village, yet it carried with it a melancholy tone rather than any level of ferocity. The stars still in unison with the moon that was settling into the azure background. There was a sense of solemn hollow over the village, as even the lesser trees seem to prostrate towards the dissipating light, and while the hearts of the populace burned with worry of that which was beyond, little attention was paid to that which had already by the graces of the shadow made itself into the village. Dante had seen the onset of that most sacred hour in which the sun itself would barely grace the moon on the onset of first light, and he was all too familiar with this angelic scene which would depart volumetric lights that pierced even the most solemn of minds. For he had with time acquainted himself with the darkness and how so many species would subconsciously avoid deeper exploration of it, allowing him to get closer from the exterior of the village to the interior, for he was very much a slave to curiosity on how beings reacted to light if any reactions at all. For the lunar blessings coupled with the glory of the sun was a sign either of a kindred sharing, or a warning of strife to come. Or at least, that was his theory, which would either by pure incident or sage observation manifest itself at a higher plane of consciousness.’

‘First light dawned with a great sound of the horizon, and the sun herself seemed to crown the settling moon forming something akin to a hollow eye which now was firmly fixed on the village. The light itself growing ever stronger as it divined its way towards the village, yet, this was no benevolent light as It burned all that it caught on towards, within a few seconds setting both home and creature ablaze, yet evil news emerged on the horizon as shadows approached quite defiant to this light, as if made of a lesser iron they approached the outskirts of the town itself while her inhabitants suffered in silence and dread, until they for a single moment stood still and revealed their red, glowing eyes. Within a second they forced themselves with an astounding speed into the village, killing all that was in the most brutal way, impervious to the light they made a great slaughter which was not simply methodical, but had a distinct tone of personal malice in the dispensation of their. Not a single tree was spared the fate of being burned, nor was a single person spared the various gruesome ways that they were dispatched off by these agents of malice. A door was kicked in, and Jessixa could see something which resembled a mix between an iron bird an a human barge in, not a hint of mercy, but the most terrifying was the aura it emitted, nearly as if steel had been spiritualized in intent while possessing an emissary of plain hatred which could only summon a feeling, nay, a desire for death.’

‘Indeed, the very ground itself gave way until what remained of the village was floating above a great hollow divide. The stench of blood was so thick it made a mist and only the stars bore witnesses to this spectacle, and only silver rain was the respite upon the dead in the village. Yet, there was an unknown apparition which had in the shadows itself unknown by others been at the center of this spectacles, and while the beasts themselves made a retreat into oblivion when this shade became ever more evident. Indeed, all that was left was this being and the remains of a child slain, which on angels wings made exodus from said existence. A noise was heard from the living shadow which asphyxiated hope itself.’

“Betrayer, oh traitor, does thou seek respite and take flight from both cause held dear and old friend? I would see you remain.”

‘The shadow spent less than a moment to levitate up to this creature and with a force that transcended the physical and intermarried the realms beyond, slowly tore off said wings with a grim certainty and knowledge of what was being done. A scream, nay, more something equivalent to a gasp was being heard despite its ironborne sound as life, or something akin to it, was pressed back into the being, the entire realm and existence seemed trapped in a quagmire of malice the fall was made from heaven down, down, straight towards Jessixa, before it collided and a brief moment of darkness ensued. Yet, the town was whole, not a casualty had been sustained, and all was at it had been before with a lone exception. Which was a less than conscious Dante laying collapsed just outside the home of Jessixa, no longer quite as hidden. Muttering things which would be unintelligible.’

Alaabast-Liruga
Nightfall

Jessixa lay asleep in her bed, with the scout deep in his own conscious. Jessixa was in her mind, with a blank canvas in front of her. She was deep in her sleep, only dreaming to her confinements of her sub-conciousness. She always wondered to herself what she could do in her life and in this world. Now she was worrying about what may come of this. She looked upon the future, only to see the Babahlese destroy Alaabast-Liruga. Screams and pain cries of people and the cackling of Satan's fires, and to hear the chuckles while she stood their dead and being chopped into bits. She screamed and jolted her back upwards. She then heard a "Thump" coming from outside. Hastily, she grabbed her bow and arrows, and went downstairs without much to wear. There she screamed, as a man who she initially thought was dead, laid there, looking lifeless. The scout woke up in a hurry, and some nearby villagers started to turn on their oil powered lights, and looked outside. Many of which though of the annoying noise.

"Help! Help! There's a dead man! Help!

A man rushed out and touched the man, only to realize he was breathing.

"Ma'am, the man is not dead, albeit he seems to be sleeping. I'll take whoevet you're having inside your house, and you can take the man."

"Thank you kind sir. There is a scout here. Take good care of him."

"I will."

Jessixa went back into her house, and put down her bow and arrows. She then picked the scout and gave him a baiser on the cheek. She then handed the scout to the man, and picked up the man, who was murmuring something that she could not understand. She thought to herself and murmured to herself quietly, while she laid the man onto her bed. She saw his appeal, and gave him a baiser on the forehead, something Alaabastians do out of a sign of extreme respect, and is more better than that of a baiser on the cheek. She then exited the room, went downstairs and found herself in the spare bed, where she laid and rested.

Somewhere outside of Alaabast-Liruga
Midnight

"We've been out here for days Artemidoros. How long more do we have to march until we reach this magical Babahlese settlement?"

Said a tired hoplite. 6 days since Artemidoros and his men have departed from Alaabast-Cahdaphia, and the night was upon them once more. The time would reach the next dawn in only a matter hours, and Artemidoros and his men were no where near civilization, or so they thought. They went on with iron spears and silver shields. They were tired and cold at the weather of Alaabast-Liruga's environment, and with nothing but trees and blood thirsty wolves surrounding them. Artemidoros then heard the hoplite, and took a rebuttal.

"Hoplite, of this I am sure of, were are a step away from me permanently shutting you up by leaving you behind. Had I not been here, you would have most likely been attacked and killed by the wolves surrounded by us. If we come across a settlement within the nigh of sunset of aftertime, we shall turn back in a instant. Per contra, should we find a settlement, we shall either sojourn or we shall flee on the premises of the populace's opinion. Now if I hear another gripe, we shall leave you here to die. Do I make myself clear hoplite, or must I continue to object to your logic?"

"Uh, no sir, I just think tha-"

"Stop right there. I had already told you that I wish not to listen to your incessant blabbering"

Artemidoros pulled out a iron sword, and held it a underhand position, before walking up to the hoplite.

"The message was not conveyed in a sense you knew, was it Ricardo? I shall speak it again, and you shall understand before I silence you. I am not going to entertain you by listening to your complaints. If we reach a spot, you may speak and whine to others. You will not due to the fact that other do not wish to listen to you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-Yes sir..."

Ricardo started to tremble on his toes. Never had he felt so much terror in his life. Although he heard a familiar voice. Another one from his group of hoplites.

"I apologize Artemidoros, but I shall have to object to your logic."

"Oh Kallisto. Always bringing a objection to my logic. Next I suppose you could bring us wine from the blood of the wolves that surrounds us?"

"I dare say Artemidoros, you've gone a bit too far off with your own ego. We've been here since the nigh of the Alaabastian hunt of Cahdapia, and yet we have yet to even find a soul or a momentous amount of humanity within these very forests. All we've found is the tranquility the animals that surround us with and the bloodlust the wolves harbor. If you would be so kind as to be quiet and to let Ricardo speak his own plate of complaints and grievances. It is only fair since practically the only unaccompanied and unfathomable thought that you have done is to led us out here to die.'

"Kallisto, your objection has been sustained. I have little except the last portion to object to, however if all you seek to to let Ricardo to speak what is on his consciousness, then I shall allow so and sheath my sword.

Artemidoros sheathed his iron sword, and bowed in Kallisto's direction, and looked at Ricardo, and giving him a short hug before apologizing.

"You will have to forgive me Ricardo. The time is nigh, and my consciousness has been running loose with the problems we have been experimenting. Forgive me, for I am in your debt of forgiveness, and shall hold myself guilty for threatening to cause bloodshed amongst our own troops."

"I shall forgive you my leader, for you did what you thought was best, and you heard Kallisto out, and that is how a leader is to do."

"Well Artemidoros and Ricardo, the rest of the hoplites are advancing, yet the three of us are standing back. We need to keep our strength up if we are to remain a good group."

"Alright Kallisto. Let us advance Ricardo."

"Yes sir!"

The three started to continue marching, and the 7 soldiers marched in a two lined column

Alaabast-Liruga
Dawn
Artemidoros

"And what I have I told you Ricardo? Did I not tell you?"

"Yes sir, Per contra, we should find someone to talk to. Maybe a farmer or a leader of some sort. I bet they will have one at the town center." Ricardo stated.

"Artemidoros, something feels...off about this village. I feel a large prescense of darkness about to swallow this village, and that if we don't do something about it, this village will be completely overtaken with the darkness I tell you about" Kallisto said.

"Alright. Kallisto and Ricardo, you go and investigate this village, however to not delight and delude yourselves with power. You will not order around the villagers unless necessary to ask for information. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes Artemidoros!"

"Yes Sir!"

The Hoplites went off, and Artemidoros went to the center, while the Hoplites went to search for villagers. Artemidoros was greeted by an array of different villagers, all wearing the same color. Red. Red dresses and red little decorations on pants and shirts. Artemidoros looked until he found a large wooden structure with barrels of water and large piles of food. He also found tree beds, mostly made of hay, that had two people. Someone that was labeled "Scout" and another one without a label. Artemidoros didn't recognize him or notice anything peculiar about him. The scout donned a orange outfit, while the mysterious man donned a tattered purple outfit, but couldn't make much of it out. He could have sworn the man murmur a bit. But it was inaudible. He was then greeted by a strange woman.

"Hello there. From the looks of you, I'm guessing you're an outsider?"

"Well, yes lady. My name is Artemidoros Gahariet. And your name is?"

"My name is Jessixa Burke of Alaabastians."

"Of Alaabastians? How did you get such a name?"

"I am a Alaabastian, and am descended from a line of rulers of settlements. I am the last in that line."

"Interesting. Well, I have a question for you. My group of soldiers have been sensing a large presence of darkness, and it is about to befall this settlement. I would like to settle down here for a bit while my soldiers scout the area. Is this okay with the leader?"

"Fortunate for you, I am the leader of this wonderful village."

"Oh my, my apologies madam. Truly sorry, I should be talking with true respect to you."

"Tis no big deal Mr. Gahariet. I'd appreciate if you could talk to Nikandros over near the man clad in a purple suit."

"Yes Madam Burke of Alaabastians."

"Please Mr. Gahariet, call me Jessixa."

Jessixa giggled a little, and Artemidoros went over to Nikandros. He was short and only had a little hair strand that grew on the back of his head that was wrapped to be a ponytail. Artemidoros started to talk to him, before Nikolas ran away. Little know to Artemidoros, Jessixa was attempting to kill him, and so a knife jabbed his armor, and pierced it, however did not piece his back. Artemidoros shoved Jessixa off his back, and took the knife out of his armor, and threw it at Jessixa. Jessixa dodged, and picked up the knife, and soon the two were pitted against each other.

Alaabast-Liruga
Dawn
Jessixa

Another day blossomed over Alaabast-Liruga, and Jessixa had a bit of a back pain. She cracked her back a bit by stretching, and her neck by pulling her hair back. Her long silky hair flew with her footsteps, and she went upstairs. After entering the door, she noticed that the man was still murmuring a bit, albeit he was sound asleep, and his voice became more inaudible.

"Hey, get up."

No use. The man was in a deep sleep. Maybe he'd snap out of it, if a loud noise were present. She lifted him by his legs and arms, and started heading downstairs and out the door, to the town center. She thought to herself about the man. Who was he? How'd he get here? Where was he coming from? All of these questions were unanswerable. She looked over and saw the same man from last night. He laid the scout on the hay bed. She walked towards him and he noticed.

Hello there. What's your name?"

"My name is Nikandros. What is your name?"

"Jessixa Burke of Alaabastians. I am the leader of this village."

"So, do you know of either of these two?"

"All I know of is that the man in your hands is a scout. I have no idea who this man even is. He's been in a deep sleep murmuring inaudible things. I wonder what he's saying."

"Probably nothing important."

"I shall take that as a answer, however I need to go check on the wall builders."

"No need to Ms. Burke."

That voice was familiar. Jessixa turned around to a dark corner of the town center and found a man. She knew him. Gustavia Joylee, a Pure Cahdapian.

"Gustavia? How long has it been?"

"Oh, I don't know. Quite a long time, has it not been Jessixa?"

"Well, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Cahdapia?"

"Far from it. I've been traveling to both Cahdapia and Borgania, back and forth, before I heard the Babahlese were back, so I decided to pay a visit back."

"Been a long time."

"I know. I was sent by some Cahdapian donkey that thought I could fight."

"Obviously he was wrong."

"No doubt about it, but I think I can still be of help strategically."

"That shall be put to the test."

"Well I can answer your test now. First off, the scouts have reported back. Their sparing us some peltasts and archers, and a large portion of hoplites, but that's all she wrote. Second, the walls are halfway complete. For villagers like these, you have to give a lot of credit. Third off, the Babahlese have changed their direction. You'll have a tough time now."

"What are you talking about Gustavia?"

"They've split up into three different armies to surround the village. A head on charge with hoplites would result in flank exposure and complete bloodshed for the hoplites."

"Alright. Thank you for that tidbit."

"Also, you may want some villagers to start hacking down the close forests. Not only will they provide wood, but they'll allow for arrows to reach the ground. If you keep the forests, then you risk have a terrible accuracy."

"I'll have you tell the men over at the woodcutters camp."

"Gotcha."

And with that, Gustavia left his corner, and went into the woodcutters camp, near Jessixa's house. She continued to treat for the man, and soon enough, the man's eyes opened up, but he was completely weak and silenced. Jessixa finally dropped a tear, as she knew he was alive. She was deathly afraid he was going to never awake from his sleep. She tried to talk to him.

"Umm...hello? Are you awake? Talk to me...please?"

No response was given to her. She felt as if she had to wait a bit more longer. She turned around to the road, to see a man walking down it. She looked at him, and found something interesting. His teeth. At that moment, her greed overtook her, and darkness fulfilled her. However she masked it, through her disguise of a smile. She then walked up to the man, when she greeted him.

"Hello there. From the looks of you, I'm guessing you're an outsider?"

"Well, yes lady. My name is Artemidoros Gahariet. And your name is?"

"My name is Jessixa Burke of Alaabastians."

"Of Alaabastians? How did you get such a name?"

"I am a Alaabastian, and am descended from a line of rulers of settlements. I am the last in that line."

"Interesting. Well, I have a question for you. My group of soldiers have been sensing a large presence of darkness, and it is about to befall this settlement. I would like to settle down here for a bit while my soldiers scout the area. Is this okay with the leader?"

"Fortunate for you, I am the leader of this wonderful village."

"Oh my, my apologies madam. Truly sorry, I should be talking with true respect to you."

"Tis no big deal Mr. Gahariet. I'd appreciate if you could talk to Nikandros over near the man clad in a purple suit."

"Yes Madam Burke of Alaabastians."

"Please Mr. Gahariet, call me Jessixa."

At that moment, Artemidoros went over to Nikandros, and started to chat with him. Jessixa searched frantically for a knife, and found one. A model of Borgania, with a flower engraved on the wooden handle. The iron blade was sharp, and cleaned nicely, with Jessixa looking at herself at the handle. She then approached Artemidoros, and saw Nikandros run. She then jumped on Artemidoros, and stabbed his back in an attempt to kill hum. She heard the knife penetrate the armor of his, and she then flew back, and fell down, hitting the ground. She then saw the knife going straight at her, and with only little more than seconds to spare, she rolled over, the knife hitting a inch away from her head. She then wrestled the knife out of the ground, and got up, holding the knife, and was pitted against Artemidoros. She looked at him in the eyes, regretting her decision and sweating bullets from her head.

[Herskerstad]

Yet on the closing of the dawn the people of Firax make summons encircled around the great flame. For fire and the emitted, ruby volumes of light that course through their veins give fuel to their purpose. Such flare gives purpose that will expand and stand fiercely towards any opposition that the harshest cold could perpetrate against such a fiery collection of individuals, who know what is their sustain and that which grants them power, and the vapors from this great fire, itself a haven of the light, will trail and paint the heavens themselves with their purpose, as they now arise to challenge even the stars themselves.

Firax Aruk-Weil Settlement

Kait Minos was around the Aruk flame with his people, gathered to discuss about the birth of the settlement and the new mansion they all had.

" My people, we have found a place hidden by the abyss of the Ruk, a land we can call home, where the Aruk shows his might and prepares to the assault that his opponent will do. I'm proud to be your Aruk-Weil, and as such I demand from you the joy of having found an home, but not the solace that it should bring. We are surrounded by the abyss and the howling Ruk, but in the chaos of the fighing forces of destruction, a path is forged for us to cross.

A group of chosen, who will carry the might of the Aruk, will cross the abyss where the cold Ruk have created treacherous passages, and will go North in search of traces. if another Aruk tribes, other than the Aruk-Firax, exist, it must be found so that we can unite against the beasts that haunt us. Also, we will need to find trees and rocks, to build our defences and our tools, using our Firax blood too to prepare ourselves to defend this Aruk source. Once we will be ready, we will also hunt the beasts of Ruk, and their flesh will be burned to sustain our being, so that we will be ready when the Aruk will call us to fight for it. So the Aruk-Weil spoke. "

The other tribesmen shouted in fiercely accordance with the words of their leader. The Firax had an home now. It was their job to make sure the Ruk would not claim it, and with it their lives.

“And witness, bones turn to ash! “ – Provost Winter

Firax Aruk-Weil Settlement - Outskirts

It was the nature for predators to either lure or force prey into consuming darkness for nothing so disarmed even strong creatures as manifest darkness which should desperation fail turn eternal. Mankind has no proud record of walking through the valley of the shadow of death given the established fear of the unknown is as old as time itself, yet, despite such inherent fragility this has not prevented some conquistadors of their own fears to surrender to such and set on a journey, sometimes their last. Yet, there never was a mere human who conquered darkness, and no creatures would be more aware of this than Arachnae which were gifted naturally with knowledge of such, still, there was one darkness who’s fear stood even incarnate in their own hearts. This would be the now emerging terror of the shadow of death and that which laid beyond, gently, temporarily, blinding both the physical and mind’s eye of those who were in close proximity to the quiet force of shoes to gravel, making a path towards from an Arachne lair to the surface.

A gentle mist of condensed air escaped his mouth as he made closer from the abyss to the surface, and a gentle smile crowned his mouth. Those who would have witnessed his figure now that light embraced him would have seen no more than a human, but accompanied by a hesitation equivalent to that a creature would face of total obliteration, or that which was beyond. Yet, there was also a strange attraction which while not making the creatures flee in full terror, would keep them at some lengths distance. The snow now graced the feet of this man who was emerging at no haste towards a realm where no human should be uninvited. It was a day of particular worth for Walerian Snow as the moon had blotted the sun at sunrise, while not moved to any sentimentality equivalent to the understanding of sacredness, he did carry significant memories of equivalent days and a very human ambition for kindred days to come. Yet, he beckoned those that surrounded him to come closer, to which retreat felt more dangerous than approach, and despite this the terror seemed distant and light, but it was as the wind blowing as it would in a greater or lesser gust continue so as to keep the pyre of fear lit. Nevertheless, he would not fail in drawing fourth a gathering, and he chuckled lightly before he continued to speak in a method that communicated to the most primal instincts of creation.

“The first snow that heralds the eternal winter, yet what makes such the primordial flake to whom which all others have no choice, but to follow? Be it the herald of a blizzard that shall glaciate the world or a single flake which prophesize the season to come? For are they not of one purpose ultimately, one nature, yet one of many in true equilibrium in their destined path? Does the snow when of one purpose not ultimately of their own go towards their own path, yet carried by the very wind that sustain their existence, that is to say nature bound to carry with the same. For should a leader desire to perdition a group to violence, would not the rest act, however organized or in the fashion of a mob follow driven on the crimson wings of the original intent? It is not the loss of personality which follows the intoxication in such a synergy of purpose, but a heightened unity of purpose just like the winds that is carried with the primordial snowflake. Despite the altering characteristics between each unit, their nature subjugates them to a common purpose. Despite their nature carrying them to different destinations their patterns, however altered, stand the same when enjoined in such a purposeful union. This nature makes the collective stronger than the combined individuals, and the stronger the unity, the flakes form ice be it a drop or a glacier, and through intent it spirits itself on such to its target enjoining to the great legacy of hatred, which is the ice above, in, and under this earth. Yet all of this, ultimately is the heritage to the single, primordial flake!”

With a single movement of his hands, he removed some of the snow which had cradled on his coat while resting a single snow flake on his finger, now extended for all to see.

“My name is Walerian Snow, but you may refer to me as Provost Winter. I come seeking the first among you who stands worthy to carry the next blizzard to that will pierce the ages themselves, the rest are of no concern to me.”

[Firstaria]

Firax Aruk-Weil Settlement - Outskirts

The Aruk-Firax who saw Valerian during their patrolling immediately surrounded the man, who showed them affinity with the cold Ruk and asked about a blizzard. He would had faced the assaults of the Firax for that show, proud warriors; but the man's intimidating presence convinced them that he was far more dangerous than he looked, and decided to bring him in front of the entire council, seeking strenght in numbers and proximity to the power of the Aruk.

Needless to say, the Aruk-Weil, Kait Minos, was not impressed by the words of the man. He was indeed intimidating, but the faith and the strong will of the leader made him have no fear of the emissary of the cold Ruk.

" So, man of winter, who speaks the treacherous words of the Ruk; you speak of a man who could bring a blizzard, yet you search him where the Aruk-Firax live, where the Aruk stands strong! I should send you back from the dark Ruk you came from, but a wise man know to heard the warnings of his enemy. So speak, but be quick and clear. We have no time for riddles, if we have to be ready to stand the menaces to my people!"

[Herskerstad]

At that moment, Artemidoros went over to Nikandros, and started to chat with him. Jessixa searched frantically for a knife, and found one. A model of Borgania, with a flower engraved on the wooden handle. The iron blade was sharp, and cleaned nicely, with Jessixa looking at herself at the handle. She then approached Artemidoros, and saw Nikandros run. She then jumped on Artemidoros, and stabbed his back in an attempt to kill hum. She heard the knife penetrate the armor of his, and she then flew back, and fell down, hitting the ground. She then saw the knife going straight at her, and with only little more than seconds to spare, she rolled over, the knife hitting a inch away from her head. She then wrestled the knife out of the ground, and got up, holding the knife, and was pitted against Artemidoros. She looked at him in the eyes, regretting her decision and sweating bullets from her head.

Alaabast-Liruga

The great transmigration of two lights had caused an effect greater than which he had experienced for a long time, so much that he did not manage to however and gently inspect the radiance of another being’s future, but instead through the great projection forced a collision of their souls. A force that had impaired some vision be it from the future, or the past, or even an odd fusion between which was not beyond such rare events, for said realm did not imbue the laws of chronology the same way a natural experience would translate it, more like floating fragments that hovered in their own peculiar light and gravity, ever so often crossing, colliding, and sometimes even conjuring new events. He did not manage to distance himself from his person and thus got absorbed gradually, until he himself asphyxiated in the flux and stood helpless, until the cycle would ‘eject’ him by granting him the mental equivalent of a physical death. Something which to him while significant in pain and traumatizing despite experience still had an element of embarrassment, as should the host be aware then his presence will be identify. Yet, the dread of the situation, fall into the currents of ethereal transmigration, asphyxiation and subsequent obliteration stood greatly secondary to one single event, an echo distinct from the past, which awakened in him something that peeled away strings to the very core of his character, a pain which manifested itself as omnipresent to the being and piercing of dimensions, be it of spirit, physical and mental just from the mere mention of a moment in his past, while his body would appear lifeless in such observation, the effects were so tremendous that he was engaged in a state that even his detached mind was overwhelmed to the point of rambling. A skilful ear however would hear 3 utterances repeated incessantly among the ineligible matters to which only he held primacy in interpreting.

“Alfred . . . . . Frost . . . . . Red Phoenix”

Yet, as his consciousness gradually migrated back into his body which prior to such would seem all, but lifeless, he could in his innermost mind hear, but not quite yet comprehend that his physical self was being discovered.

"Help! Help! There's a dead man! Help!

The entire scene was an essential blur and a form of consciousness rebirth was taking place. Dante had been here before, but at the early stages of this it would take some time before events would be translated consciously into things he could react to, for now this chain was degenerated and needed time to rehabilitate, the physical feeling while not yet into the ability to consciously interpret this information was among the first things to reappear as the process would be different each time such an event failed, but it would not take too long before his mind would become conscious of the events that had occurred as if it had been a long-faded memory. He felt without an ability to register such him being carried and laid to rest and the care given to him would speed his recovery, as at this point he would at best look like someone with shock and at worst be interpreted as someone with severe head trauma. Some time had passed and eventually this was the catalyst which made him regain consciousness, but not yet the ability to translate such externally.

"Hey, get up."

While he could not speak or reply in any kind of noticeable movements just yet, he could now think in a structured and conscious way.

‘ Ohhhhhh, my head, feels like it is about to shatter, yes, it will not get any better than this, I remember . . . and my mind will force me to remember, while at the apex of exhaustion is the only respite in which I will gain. I did not know that the light would . . . Or was it her soul? It matters not, but did she see me as I fell? Betrayal . . . . Is betrayal of evil indeed betrayal or is it repentance? Alfred . . . Frost . . . Red Phoenix . . . My purpose is yet to be completed and only I can now prevent true disaster, but kindred hearts may help. . . . Tis will take a long time, and her path ultimately is her own, but maybe she will. . . . No, I must desist in seeking another to grant aid as such will endanger them beyond that which a creature should ever have to endure. . . . I should however repay the kindness in some fashion, tis a rare trait these days. ‘

Some time passed and Dante, now somewhat at an expert on recovering from the ethereal plane spent his time in a form of donned meditation. It was a process of to a degree re-learning the essentials of one’s own body as every movement of any limb had to be re-introduced into memory, starting from the toes and moving up to the head. It would take some time for it all to ‘click’ to which he could take to actual movement, but Dante, inflicted with a disease most dread had such re-experienced as if it was there all over again, and had his eyes functioned the pain of such would be so overwhelming that the body could not respond in anything, but a significant nausea. It was inherent from the bone to the soul and permeated nearly everything including his conscience, nevertheless this was the plight he had to carry. Sometime later Jessixa returned and once again attempted to make inquiry.

"Umm...hello? Are you awake? Talk to me...please?"

His pupils, now barely moveable, could make out the figure which was unmistakable from the dream. He had done it again and his mind gained the weight of even further depression.

‘ . . . It’s unmistakable, she has connected in some way. I neither want to inform, but nor can I let her be in perpetual ignorance of any such. . . I fear all she knows will be destroyed in association to me. Such woe hold my soul down for it would be better if she was destroyed should such be, my soul can only pray that the destruction granted is of truly my past and not something which will be hers in association to me, or a flux of a fantastical dream, no . . . As long as she inquires not to Frost it will not go beyond what others must carry . . . Existence . . . . quench this asphyxiation of my soul! Spill not my woes over to others that have already their own lot . . . Afford me a moment . . . heavy minutes, hours pass.‘

Jessixa near this point was observed looking at someone, and a rather herodian smile was conjured which despite not being obvious at first, still did fire a certain doubt into Dante, for it was the smile of pretention and ill intent merged into a sacrilegious union. She then departed out the door.

‘ I’ve not had enough time to fully reintegrate, but just to be certain . . . This is going to hurt... ‘

Lifting his left foot he planted it to the ground, and in a leap of faith placed invested into the most humble leap of balance, but the connection invoked a pain which shot through the nerve centre as if it was the exact reverse pain of having ones arms and legs taken out of socket, and his spine broken. There would be a mighty scream had he had any air to do so with, and the only good news was that such a pain was relatively brief and only forced a violent sweat. He gasped for air, repeatedly, but the body calmed quickly, he was now fully restored to his normal, miserable state. The smell of mercury was back and he could again feel what was of his human nature not exactly correspond to the parts of him that was more beastly. Be that as it may, the worst was past, and he now took to the door to which he saw the confrontation, and ceased the opportunity outright to seize attention in a hope to diffuse the situation.

“ Physical manifestation of ones intent, poorly considered, makes for divine comedy!"

He forced a beaming smile, and granted that his cloth did not cover the mouth, showed an array of teeth while in different stages of the nature of man and beast, but in an odd harmony despite the lack of symmetry. He had the body of a child yet the composure of someone far beyond his stature, infused in both a natural kind of curiosity and in to a certain degree an interaction that stood cute. Subconsciously he always leaned more of the weight on his feet towards the toes rather than the heel, and in leaning his weight he walked and as such masked quite well his human origins as it was decidedly exploratory in its presence. Somehow, he had managed to shift the focus to himself, yet now he would have to press such momentum to which he made his path close to Jessixa, the tension was still high and pandemonium could be on the horizon should things not alter. He approached leaning in peculiarly close in a youthful gaze, observing to confirm the sweat he thought apparent. He pulled out and in his somewhat high-pitched voice confirmed the following with a beaming smile.

“Is this my rescuer from the dread of night? I must apologise sincerely, I intend not to be a bother and have been known to take leave of my senses. Yet, your eyes, I can see that you’ve gotten yourself into a conundrum of your own doing, and what a poor guest I would make if not to aid you and correct the situation, even if it means at this point I likely have to correct you. For you should not challenge the hand of fate which may encroach its freezing fingers around your soul, and thus squeeze your life out. I do not doubt your vigour, but you are here at a disadvantage of your own creation, what sparked such I will not presume knowledge of, but taken leave of the ambitions yourself do you find yourself just remotely clever? Cast aside your weapon before you cast aside your life and those you hold dear. You will still have an advocate, but in doing so I can only restrain myself to truth and this has no echo of remote justification, but just as you have imperilled a life, you too must face the peril of your own to have a remote chance of getting even, subject yourself to justice and hope for righteousness, that such may be given, not simply out of self interest for you must make a lasting concession, but under the weight of your wrongdoing which now have endangered us all so that you may answer."

Looking only to her he further answered with a single devious blink in one of his eyes. Then, with a polite bow he turned around to face Artemidoros. He took a while to consider just how to present as despite everything, his human nature would be somewhat apparent to not be pure which is a different charge from being among the depraved, yet he was also well versed with humans who had even communicated with babahl’s and survived, so he mimicked the sign of respect they had passed down which was holding his hands up to each side of his head, which this thumbs resting on the sides and his fingers held together to symbolize larger ears, and bowed while somewhat pushing the figures out as a sign of respect to a force greater than oneself. Despite recent trauma Dante was excellent on both flare and theatrics as there was no pain evident, he added a great deal of charming ethos to his actions and pathos to his words, chosen very in this case he continued with somewhat more of a serious tone.

“ I am afraid that you have me on a disadvantage, for this person saved me from the cold nights which would otherwise likely consume me. I hold neither the stature nor fortitude of someone like yourself. My freezing blood is heaven’s red and thus requires some warmth, and it is not often such charity is gifted on travellers to these paths which is the result of chaos and lawlessness, lack of traditions which sometimes gnaws itself to opportunism, false smiles, but such is not merely down to lack of character although it is indicative of something wrong, but ignorance of a greater perspective which is manifest into the lack of traditions and laws which though the blade can be imposed. For in this age of chaos, without laws what will one be able to rule with the sword beyond that in ones eyesight, and how too should one protect themselves from the knife which may be beyond view, next time, it may be sharper. Protect yourself instead not through removing the temporal threat, but the lasting threat, and impose laws and traditions which justifies force when breeched, so that none may have an excuse, but show also benevolence to the ignorance of those who have in ignorance erred so that you may not merely gain the control, but their reverence, so that your presence may remain long after you depart an area. Neither I nor her, as she’s made evident through the language of sweat doubt your formidable force, nor would anyone think you weak if you were to crown this moment through laws and traditions. For if you take to violence, the village may go in, and that which makes someone the ruler of a string of plundered villages is a ruler that is weak and furthermore a tyrant himself, but should they remain in sworn loyalty and pragmatic administration, yours will thus be both fair and strong which will manifest itself not merely in the minds of your subject, but those you may have dealings with later. If you levy thus such righteous forgiveness to her I will promise you in the future to show things which your eyes have never seen before, for should other occur, the only thing that will remain is vanity, hardness and emptiness.”

He once again bowed, this time in a near regal bow, eagerly awaiting his response.

[Shnercropolis]

Bisgir

The world was happy and peaceful. Badar smiled as he looked up at the sky. It was blue and welcoming, not a cloud to be seen. More importantly, it was warm. He could feel his body rushing with energy. He looked down at his hands, saw they were clear-skinned and unqrinkled. He smiled from ear to ear. He heard laughter far away, in a green field nestled between two grand buildings. Colorful banners and flowers were everywhere. It was a celebration day.

In the field were two young maidens, both of them beautiful; and jovial. They seemed to invite Badar over, to have fun and enjoy the festivities. He laughed and ran to meet them. Birds chirped and horns blew. The magnificent cityscape below seemed to beam with promise and happiness.

The vision faded. There was a flash of almost unbearable light, and the world was dark and cold. Slowly, a new vision came. The sky was overcast and dreary, and the cold winter winds howled. Badar saw a white expanse greater than any he'd ever seen, an ice cap spreading from horizon to horizon. Nothing moved on that desolate plane, too cold and inhospitable for any plant or animal to inhabit for any length of time.

Badar the Elder woke up.

He was experienced enough now to know that this dream held little significance. It showed nothing new, there was no revelations to be had about the First Light or about how the Scourge had ruined the world. Those were the two chief mysteries to Badar, but somewhere deep down he knew he was never destined to know for sure what they were. He was doomed to forever guess, to make assumptions based on the vaguest facts. The First Light may have given him many insights, but the deep past -- from before he had been touched -- would always remain a mystery.

He opened his eyes. His hut was dark and musty, with thin shafts of dim light emanating from the slotlike windows near the roof. A few dust motes danced in the light. Badar sat for awhile staring at the motes, ruminating on nothing in particular. He found that avoiding conscious thought often led to insights, although it was impossible to put those insights into structured thought and thus benefit from them. The conscious and unconscious were separate but equal.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Badar felt a compulsion to move. His unconscious had finished its mysterious musings and ceded to his more basic instincts, who alerted him that he needed to urinate. Badar sat up and pushed off his sleeping covers, feeling his muscles come back to life. In his old age he could feel the clicks and clacks of his tendons, each of them failing just enough to be a nuisance and not enough to be a problem. He was happy he would never age another day, he dreaded what his body would become if he were to age another year.

Putting on his parka and taking up his walking stick, Badar shuffled outside to meet the cold morning air. The air stung his face but not unpleasantly, and certainly not so bad as it could have been for that time of day and year. He predicted a warm day as he peed into the dirt.

Bisgir was a stone town built on a shelf of a great mountain of the same name. It was at the end of a long mountain range, which stretched far away into an ice cap to the north. Sn the south lay a snowy waste called Esgir, named so because it was the traditional camping spot of the Egar. After a few leagues the waste climbed onto another mountain peak, Oz Mozul, and the mountain range resumed southwards. To the east and west was nothing, although it was known that many many leagues to the east the snow turned to sea and life was plentiful, and the Egar caught their fish. Badar had seen that place in his visions before; a series of rocky bluffs before a cold, dark sea, where fish and seals flourished and seabirds flew. It was so full of life. The region around Bisgir was nearly lifeless; only foul beings of the wastes lived there permanently, and they were not nearly as beautiful as the birds which inhabited that rocky coast.

Presently the wastelands were inhabited by more than the occaisional snow demon, though. The Egar caravan could be seen approaching their campsite from the east, a long line of black dots which were sleds full of fish. The Egar themselves were invisible in the snow.

Badar stoond and watched the procession for a long time, once more ruminating on nothing in particular. Some townsfolk walked past him on their own business, unrulled by the weathered old man staring into the horizon. They all knew who he was, and they knew it was best not to disturb him and they had better things to do anyway.

The sun inched higher, and finally Badar the Elder decided it was time to go to the King's court. He turned back to the town and shuffled towards the largest building. The town itself was actually quite large, and there was little room to spare on the shelf nowadays. There was talk of erecting a new town further north, on a different cave entrance a few leagues away.

He stepped into the court. It was a large hall, perhaps 20 feet by 50 feet, and well-heated with large fireplaces. The King sat on his throne, a blocky chair carved out of stone. To his right sat Badar the Younger, tall and splendid in his seal furs. Furs were priceless commodities traded exclusively with the Egar. The King and Y'ishnet were some of the very few who had the privelege to wear it; most people had to make do with clothing sewn from the fibrous Oleanga fungus.

Badar shuffled over to sit in his stool. He wore no such finery.

The day was, for the most part, uneventful. Afew complaints and property disputes between the townsfolk. A formal greeting party from the Egar, and a trade negotiation afterwards. Badar sat and observed, unneeded for these negotiaitons. The King was old and wise enough these days to need little guidance in such matters.

Suddenly Badar saw a vision, unbidden. His mind flew away from the court, out over the icy wastes to the West. Leagues and leagues he was taken, until he came to a stone village not unlike Bisgir. Something told him it was imperative to go there, that it was essential. His mind was restored back to his body and immediately he announced his vision.

"I have seen a prophesy." Instantly the throne room went silent, the current matter of a farming squabble forgotten entirely. Badar resumed.

"There is another place... another place with sentient beings. They are like us but they are not human. Like our village they are small and isolated, with no outside contact. They lie many many leagues to the west, far beyond the horizon. We have to go there, and make contact. We must."

After a long silence, Y'ishnael spoke up. "I will go. I will take the best warriors with me." The King nodded. "Round up the necessary people and supplies. I want the party to leave by daybreak tomorrow."

Y'ishnael strode out of the room, excited beyond belief. Finally, some adventure! Badar looked proudly upon his son.

[Herskerstad]

Firax Aruk-Weil Settlement - Outskirts

The Aruk-Firax who saw Valerian during their patrolling immediately surrounded the man, who showed them affinity with the cold Ruk and asked about a blizzard. He would had faced the assaults of the Firax for that show, proud warriors; but the man's intimidating presence convinced them that he was far more dangerous than he looked, and decided to bring him in front of the entire council, seeking strenght in numbers and proximity to the power of the Aruk.

Needless to say, the Aruk-Weil, Kait Minos, was not impressed by the words of the man. He was indeed intimidating, but the faith and the strong will of the leader made him have no fear of the emissary of the cold Ruk.

" So, man of winter, who speaks the treacherous words of the Ruk; you speak of a man who could bring a blizzard, yet you search him where the Aruk-Firax live, where the Aruk stands strong! I should send you back from the dark Ruk you came from, but a wise man know to heard the warnings of his enemy. So speak, but be quick and clear. We have no time for riddles, if we have to be ready to stand the menaces to my people!"

Firax Aruk-Weil Settlement - Outskirts

Provost Winter could not help, but chuckle a smile. There was an eerie calmness on how he accost any gravity of danger that would seem evident to the human mind. His breath was calm, but so in a very concentrated manner, yet there was no doubt that while his eyes lay towards the ground as his head rested downwards that he in some manner observed everything, yet he was not exalted in outmost terror as some held firm against his influence despite the draught of a most terrible aura. Yet it expanded as if held by wings when Winter held his hands out nearly in an embracing fashion. Indeed, most would feel a sense of paranoia, fear, misery and guilt that would see them shirk further and further back be it from an invisible power or just by the mere presence of winter, thus it was hard to tell as the times neither allowed for much reflection as would it be hard to break from the schizophrenic binding present from this man’s radiance. Indeed, it would have it so that most creature would for any of the above afflictions be depressed away from the scene and scatter away, little would it be known that this was the path Winter had laid before them, now that continually more and more worthy beings remained.

At this point a lone creature had made its way beyond the fleeing creatures, a lone rabbit with a snow-white fur, which had conducted a reverse retreat in the confusion of the withdrawing creatures towards the source, while immune to the aura it made it’s way closer to a source of calm, which was near Provost himself, for standing as if he was a static eagle the bunny identified no present threat and nearly a sense of safety, as he stood cradled in a half circle with more intimidating-looking creatures. This creature had not made Provost Winter react externally until with one swift, and deadly accurate strike he had flung his walking cane and before even the rabbit could react, and thus pierced it from the scapula through the cervicas, effectively holding what remained of the life of the rabbit sealed by the still inserted cane. Short of a very audible shriek there was only a twisted cooing sound which remained, and Provost lifted him up in an equally disturbing, yet oddly embracing move, resting it against his bosom before he continued speaking in a very slow, yet disturbingly sincere tone as the rabbit’s voice continued, however trapped, to fade away. It held the tone of a song, however unmusical that in its solitude stood relevant only to the bunny, yet which extended to those who witnessed as there was not an insincere moment which made it all the more macabre.

“Witness ever closely its penitential hymn, the last infirm gasp from this cruel world it has been. Let the winter set in, let the pain go by . . . as to heal it’s broken spirit, and calm its shattered kind.
Behold this bridge to mercy, an injudicious place, paving ways to which we neither earned the mercy nor the grace. Let the suffering settle, let the world pass by . . . as to mend its suffering seeing, and rest it’s broken mind.
Attest therefor its ending, this quiet fading shape. For darkness takes over when light herself does vain. . . Watch the sorrow falter, watch the soul now rest come onset of the winter, and beginnings of the end. “

He then removed the cane with one swift moment, and what had started as a shriek, degenerated into a sense cooing and then diminished into panting now stood forever silenced, the little blood that had been spilt had long since frozen to the point it was hardly liquid enough to make any kind of puddle, and Provost Winter with a kind of reverential bow did bend his knees and rest it quite calmly on the snow, not a motion to be made, to which he then turned around, rather informally a nothing had occurred, and continued.

“There is, but one thing I truly hate in this world, and that is lies regardless of their forms, and there is nothing more sacred than a vow to take, as you can find I will never make threats, but always bestow promises. Yet I have no desire to impose any harm with one exception which is why I have made my approach, I mince no words, I desire not to freely help, but to use you for an expressed purpose. You see, your kind is especially well suited for the darkness and as it may happen, there is a job which well suits this task. I expect not despite whatever similarities or lack thereof of our own selves that you would endeavour to such through charity, which is why, if you do your job well enough, you will be rewarded.”

He paused for a moment, and lifted his head up. There was not an empty expression on his face, but rather, a very calm, very subtle smile as he revealed the following.

“ There is a depraved individual, through more than merely so in his physical stature, which I seek to advocate indirect harm to as much as it can be helped. Death is indeed an underestimated mercy as shown, yet this being is to have none such grace, only to twist and suffer as much as can be imposed on him through proxy by those he loves or indeed even interacts with, as he must be reminded that he is to walk alone. Which is why, I, in no uncertain terms, want you to drag anyone which he seems to have made contact with and who’s either done good to him, or has had him do good to them into the darkest pit and have them tortured in whichever until there rest no figment of a mind left. I request that you outright do not kill them nor harm a hair on Dante himself whom you should not yet trouble yourself with. Just, utilize darkness, keep hidden from him, and find out what he is doing, then quietly slip those whom he cares for away when he is not looking. The rest is up to the darkness itself, and depending on how well you do this, you will be rewarded in either Power, Wealth, or Rule, the latter being an advancement to your very kind. "

He turned away and took a few steps back to where he came from, but not before stopping at one point and said the following.

“The name of the person I want you to harm through Proxy, is Dante. A human mangrel. Seek hypocrisy and you’ll eventually cross paths with him.“

[Firstaria]

Firax Aruk-Weil Settlement - Outskirts

Kait Minos did not react. Not a muscle moved, not ab eyebrow raised, as Provost Winter showed both his powers and made his request. The other Firax were scared, confused at what they assisted, but he remained still, still as a bastion for his people, showing a determination and a courage he maybe was even faking, but were necessary to be the Aruk-Wiel.

Only when Provost left, he spoke to his warriors.

"We were wrong. We need to find this Dante." Causing even more panic than the man itself, as at the beginning Provost's words seemed to have touched their leader. But it was none than a mere impression, as he continued.
" We gave many names to the Ruk, but only now we see that all it's manifestations are the same entity, the same scrouge. And that scrouge today took the form of man, the Ruk came at our doors to ask for us to bow to it's darkness."

The warriors were shocked, as the Aruk-Weil words made sense. A man controlling the cold winter, with such power, professing that the Firax should smile at the serenity of the cold death and search into darkness to find power? Those were definitely the treacherous, horrible ways of the Ruk.

" Send the scouts at the four corners of this world, and tell everyone to gather resources and keep bringing power to the Aruk flame and build more defences. The time we knew would come has manifested: but we will defy the Ruk that riles this lands, we will find his enemies, and if Aruk, we will guide them, use them, learn from them to resist and fight the Ruk. You have witness his power, now I ask you not to falter. Because we might suffer, but we will live in the heat of the Aruk, and there is where the Firax will stand! Valete Liberi. As now we know, Winter has come upon us!"

And so, the settlment sprung to life. The Firax, guided by Kait, would remember this day forever as the day the Ruk came to ask them to bow, to become its agents of destruction. But the Fira refused, and with those words Minos gave them their place in the world. Valete Liberi; be strong, childs of the Aruk, as the night was colder and darker than they could even imagine...

[Herskerstad]

First Mechanical post for round 1.

OOC: Copy your updated ADECMIL to your OOC, currently on auto by the GM with some changes due to events. Leaning HEAVILY towards a few of you sending out scouts and emissaries to interact with other players.

IC:


The Nilal ADECMIL – 3,1,3

‘Prospects had seemed fairly prominent as no other tribe had so well adapted to the harsh conditions imposed by the winter. Yet disaster had reared its ugly face as game had steadily decreased and now a collective famine holds over the land, eradicating any semblance of trade and economic development, yet the people had turned towards leadership in such a position and told of lands of Bisgir which could give better ideas of how to garner in greater quantities to subsist on, yet woodworks were improving steadily. ‘

The Khal Collective ADECMIL – 1.4.2


‘Storms had ravaged the living spaces far upon the hill and decimated the inhabitants confidence in the council, such woe and wretched conditions had little mercy as aside from their general devastation they shook the foundations of the leadership, yet, all was not without fruits as the creatures had found several methods of stabilizing their living spaces, and now, come the settling of the storm, indeed, fortifying and establishing something equivalent to a lifeline of resources including a most precious source of water, a freshwater source that was most bountiful found at the bowels of a great mountain and it’s caves which would grant shelter, furthermore, strong leather tents now had far less likely chances of being shredded by the wind nor find itself absorbed by the gale. This confidence in self had led to something equivalent to safety in economy. Yet, with such prosperity more could be achieved and perhaps re-establish the authority of the administration, and with such a scout from the Aruk-Firax tribes who sought an individual could be a good place to start diplomatic ties’

The Aruk-Firax Tribes - ADECMIL 4,2,1.

‘Having been visited by the strange man known as Provost Winter there had been a significant fear through the troops, which had scattered and disorganized, yet, for those which had stood fast there were no doubt as to the authority of the administration. Scouts had been sent out and encountered successfully the Khal Collective, there had been no sight yet of this ‘Dante’.

Borganian and Cahdapian – ADECMIL 2,2,3

‘Temporary fortifications had begun as warning signs showed themselves to be prominent, yet, there had been internal turmoil which threatened to disrupt a significant part of the nearby community which still had gained outside intervention. ‘

Bisgir - ADECMIL 2,3,1

‘The clouds had gathered on the horizon and a silvery winter had occurred. One was not certain of what was to come, but a sign of something great was on the far reaches, approaching ever so slowly with the cold breath of winter at his back. Provost Winter was approaching’

[Herskerstad]

‘In the far wilds of a forest, two sounds roamed the forest. One of beast, and one of Provost Frost himself.’

“These frogs . . . They can’t help themselves but go ribbiting can they? It matters not the season nor the environment, and there stand no necessity to their sounds as it appertains no greater knowledge or transmission of such. Encountered by fear or calm they merely utter said at a different phase . . .”

‘He picked the frog up by its hind legs and dangled it at a considerable elevation above the ground, he had applied enough pressure to induce a level panic to the frog which was predictably attempting to struggle away despite the dangers of the drop, and the keen eyes of Frost made themselves observe all the motions, but his gaze in truth extended far beyond such as this event unfolded. With small shifts in motions he continued, speaking to himself in a low tone.’

“When it is too cold, they hibernate, they lie subject to the powers that control them. Most of the knowledge they rely on is primal and existent within their nature, for do they advance? Nay. They merely leap from one place to another absent goal. Oblivious to other factors which if they had true knowledge would also grant them further caution, such as the wind. They thus continue ribbitting, jumping, hibernating, either to be swallowed up by beast or the earth. Yet why do they so repeat such when it communicates nothing, and makes evident little more than what they lack even to the very end?”

He placed the poor creature back on the snow and predictably, it continued making noises and quickly ran away without much of a destination in mind. Frost laughed as he replied - “They are much alike mankind in that regard!” He then stood up as the volumetric light of the moon embraced him, it was a good night. A twisted purpose had enriched itself in his heart and stood the only thing he was truly captivated by. Yet despite this there was no real judgement in his tone, for above all he liked to observe. For wildlife he was as good as invisible, but to those whom he intended to grab the attention of he never failed. And with such, made his way towards his intended destination.

“Will I force the complete acquiescence of a soul? Or will it’s yielding be too precious for me to execute? This symphony is autonomous and may it forever remain so, this precious, precious crescendo which ascends existence itself to its apex, may it infinitely abide in its unceasing glory!”

He then continued on, reaching his destination come morning.

Mount Bisgir

‘The first light dawned over the great mountain and christened it with a golden aura as the migrating birds spirited by. The light trapped the shadows of the snow so embroiled on the souls of those who laboured in this majestic place. He, as in Provost Winter had approached the expanse and path which seemed the most relevant to the entry, yet, his way of entry made it nearly seem as if his path was pre-determined. It was either an extraordinary wanderer’s ability or a more transcendent implication. He walked holding his hands more or less together, his chin depressed his head forward somewhat intently and his hat did make it hard to divine something of an intent smile, yet his approach yielded little formality, even though a great sky had donned the sky, it’s piercing rays vanquishing volumetric rays of light which made this seem something of a herald and he did openly enjoy the opportunity to use such a beckoning to spread his memorandum. He made it close to the greater town itself and came within the range of its inhabitants, and immediately something felt wrong, as if an invisible aura of the abyss had come blowing on his back which stood entirely contrary to his rather serene demeanour. The sensation itself would effort most into their homes and thoroughly confuse any guard, for how could they defend against that which they held no understanding of? He simply had stopped nearly in the middle of town, and it was clear that this was as good as any formal request to speak to the one in charge.

. . . Yet the strangest thing was that this darkness felt largely akin to the first light in essence.

[Furry Alairia and Algeria]

Lifting his left foot he planted it to the ground, and in a leap of faith placed invested into the most humble leap of balance, but the connection invoked a pain which shot through the nerve centre as if it was the exact reverse pain of having ones arms and legs taken out of socket, and his spine broken. There would be a mighty scream had he had any air to do so with, and the only good news was that such a pain was relatively brief and only forced a violent sweat. He gasped for air, repeatedly, but the body calmed quickly, he was now fully restored to his normal, miserable state. The smell of mercury was back and he could again feel what was of his human nature not exactly correspond to the parts of him that was more beastly. Be that as it may, the worst was past, and he now took to the door to which he saw the confrontation, and ceased the opportunity outright to seize attention in a hope to diffuse the situation.

“ Physical manifestation of ones intent, poorly considered, makes for divine comedy!"

He forced a beaming smile, and granted that his cloth did not cover the mouth, showed an array of teeth while in different stages of the nature of man and beast, but in an odd harmony despite the lack of symmetry. He had the body of a child yet the composure of someone far beyond his stature, infused in both a natural kind of curiosity and in to a certain degree an interaction that stood cute. Subconsciously he always leaned more of the weight on his feet towards the toes rather than the heel, and in leaning his weight he walked and as such masked quite well his human origins as it was decidedly exploratory in its presence. Somehow, he had managed to shift the focus to himself, yet now he would have to press such momentum to which he made his path close to Jessixa, the tension was still high and pandemonium could be on the horizon should things not alter. He approached leaning in peculiarly close in a youthful gaze, observing to confirm the sweat he thought apparent. He pulled out and in his somewhat high-pitched voice confirmed the following with a beaming smile.



Looking only to her he further answered with a single devious blink in one of his eyes. Then, with a polite bow he turned around to face Artemidoros. He took a while to consider just how to present as despite everything, his human nature would be somewhat apparent to not be pure which is a different charge from being among the depraved, yet he was also well versed with humans who had even communicated with babahl’s and survived, so he mimicked the sign of respect they had passed down which was holding his hands up to each side of his head, which this thumbs resting on the sides and his fingers held together to symbolize larger ears, and bowed while somewhat pushing the figures out as a sign of respect to a force greater than oneself. Despite recent trauma Dante was excellent on both flare and theatrics as there was no pain evident, he added a great deal of charming ethos to his actions and pathos to his words, chosen very in this case he continued with somewhat more of a serious tone.

“ I am afraid that you have me on a disadvantage, for this person saved me from the cold nights which would otherwise likely consume me. I hold neither the stature nor fortitude of someone like yourself. My freezing blood is heaven’s red and thus requires some warmth, and it is not often such charity is gifted on travellers to these paths which is the result of chaos and lawlessness, lack of traditions which sometimes gnaws itself to opportunism, false smiles, but such is not merely down to lack of character although it is indicative of something wrong, but ignorance of a greater perspective which is manifest into the lack of traditions and laws which though the blade can be imposed. For in this age of chaos, without laws what will one be able to rule with the sword beyond that in ones eyesight, and how too should one protect themselves from the knife which may be beyond view, next time, it may be sharper. Protect yourself instead not through removing the temporal threat, but the lasting threat, and impose laws and traditions which justifies force when breeched, so that none may have an excuse, but show also benevolence to the ignorance of those who have in ignorance erred so that you may not merely gain the control, but their reverence, so that your presence may remain long after you depart an area. Neither I nor her, as she’s made evident through the language of sweat doubt your formidable force, nor would anyone think you weak if you were to crown this moment through laws and traditions. For if you take to violence, the village may go in, and that which makes someone the ruler of a string of plundered villages is a ruler that is weak and furthermore a tyrant himself, but should they remain in sworn loyalty and pragmatic administration, yours will thus be both fair and strong which will manifest itself not merely in the minds of your subject, but those you may have dealings with later. If you levy thus such righteous forgiveness to her I will promise you in the future to show things which your eyes have never seen before, for should other occur, the only thing that will remain is vanity, hardness and emptiness.”

He once again bowed, this time in a near regal bow, eagerly awaiting his response.

Jessixa looked away from Artemidoros, still keeping her small blade focused on Artemidoros. The man in the purple dress stood up, and firmly planted his feet onto the ground. Jessixa was amazed he could walk, however just then Artemidoros started to swing his double bladed cane at her violently. One could hear the swishes and whirl of the blade. Artemidoros's mindset had one thing in mind, kill Jessixa. No matter what. Jessixa looked at him, nearly on the brink of tears and regretting her decision. Artemidoros then knocked her on the ground, and attempted to jab Jessixa, poking holes into the ground next to her. She back and crawled away, then quickly leaped at Artemidoros, before she was thrown back near the old man. She laid there, before getting back up, blade still in hand. Then the man yelled.

“Physical manifestation of ones intent, poorly considered, makes for divine comedy!"

Jessixa looked at him, and Artemidoros did too, and stopped twirling his blade at a violent speed. Jessixa was approached by the man, and he started to speak in a low voice, and Jessixa striked up a quick meaningful conversation, while the man looked at Artemidoros, telling him to hold.

“Is this my rescuer from the dread of night?"

"Yes, I guess you can say that, albeit I barely saved you, more or less housed you."

"I must apologise sincerely, I intend not to be a bother and have been known to take leave of my senses."

"I am waiting for that leave now."

"Yet, your eyes, I can see that you’ve gotten yourself into a conundrum of your own doing, and what a poor guest I would make if not to aid you and correct the situation, even if it means at this point I likely have to correct you."

"Are you really here to help me? I am in debt for doing that. I've made a dreadful mistake at challenging this man."

"For you should not challenge the hand of fate which may encroach its freezing fingers around your soul, and thus squeeze your life out."

"Aye. My life is now in a precarious situation in which the precariousness had made a turn for the worst."

"I do not doubt your vigour, but you are here at a disadvantage of your own creation"

"That much I know, however I doubt putting myself in this position of danger without a kinesthesia of repercussions."

"What sparked such I will not presume knowledge of, but taken leave of the ambitions yourself do you find yourself just remotely clever?"

...

...

...

"...No. I do not feel myself at a position where I can remain clever. I must concede. It is impossible for me to cast myself as a resourceful woman. Even in this situation".

"Cast aside your weapon before you cast aside your life and those you hold dear."

...

"You're right. Please, take this knife. It's mine. I engraved this with the Cahdaphian flower. Please, keep it. It is yours. I shall give and concede your point."

"You will still have an advocate, but in doing so I can only restrain myself to truth and this has no echo of remote justification, but just as you have imperilled a life"

...

"I know when I have imperiled a life, and I myself cannot find justification in this. Only greed. I cannot concede with this greed.

"You too must face the peril of your own to have a remote chance of getting even, subject yourself to justice and hope for righteousness"

"And , that such may be given, not simply out of self interest for you must make a lasting concession, but under the weight of your wrongdoing which now have endangered us all so that you may answer."

At this point, Jessixa was on her knees, and crying tears while telling herself, "Why, I shouldn't have". Artemidoros started to approach Jessixa, and start to swing his swords, before being blocked by Dante, after Dante picked up a wooden cane and blocked Artemidoros's attack.

“I am afraid that you have me on a disadvantage, for this person saved me from the cold nights which would otherwise likely consume me."

"So this is the woman who saved you? She has my honor engaved in her, however that shall not stop me from killing her."

"I hold neither the stature nor fortitude of someone like yourself."

"really? You look fine, but continue."

"My freezing blood is heaven’s red and thus requires some warmth, and it is not often such charity is gifted on travellers to these paths which is the result of chaos and lawlessness, lack of traditions which sometimes gnaws itself to opportunism, false smiles, but such is not merely down to lack of character although it is indicative of something wrong, but ignorance of a greater perspective which is manifest into the lack of traditions and laws which though the blade can be imposed."

"Objection!"

...

...

"Well, what is it you seek to object?"

"The fact that you name us travelers as causers of chaos and lawlessness, however you have managed to indict us as such people. Can you show anything that indicts us of being, in the least, as you so put it, 'it is not often such charity is gifted on travellers to these paths which is the result of chaos and lawlessness, lack of traditions.' old man?"

"Well, I-"

The man paused for a brief moment, when another man walked up.

"Gustavia? How's it looking?"

"Well, the defenses are looking good, but we have some people who aren't even from this village lurking around this village."

Dante looked at Artemidoros with a glare, while Artemidoros looked at him, sweating.

"Well, Artemidoros, care to explain this nice little contradiction?"

"I...I...I..."

"Admit it."

...

...

"I admit that we may have come here, on account of the Babahlese. I concede that point...for now."

"For in this age of chaos, without laws what will one be able to rule with the sword beyond that in ones eyesight, and how too should one protect themselves from the knife which may be beyond view, next time, it may be sharper."

"You, my persona, are now eternally place on the top of the list. Expect little respect from me, should I find something that may cause a objection."

"Protect yourself instead not through removing the temporal threat, but the lasting threat, and impose laws and traditions which justifies force when breeched, so that none may have an excuse, but show also benevolence to the ignorance of those who have in ignorance erred so that you may not merely gain the control, but their reverence, so that your presence may remain long after you depart an area. Neither I nor her, as she’s made evident through the language of sweat doubt your formidable force, nor would anyone think you weak if you were to crown this moment through laws and traditions. For if you take to violence, the village may go in, and that which makes someone the ruler of a string of plundered villages is a ruler that is weak and furthermore a tyrant himself, but should they remain in sworn loyalty and pragmatic administration, yours will thus be both fair and strong which will manifest itself not merely in the minds of your subject, but those you may have dealings with later. If you levy thus such righteous forgiveness to her I will promise you in the future to show things which your eyes have never seen before, for should other occur, the only thing that will remain is vanity, hardness and emptiness.”

"So far in I have found nothing to object to. I thank you for your wisdom and for your ability to restrain me. Had I not been restrained, I would have caused a bloodshed upon this woman. I apologize for that, and I shall remember to restrain myself in times of danger, such as this."