Turn Back The Clock (IC)

[Novas Arcanum]

Honestly, Éléonore was not surprised. Of course, something like this would happen the great Taxarif would be fooled by some crafty elves; you'd think an Archwizard would be capable enough to notice the fine print in a spell. Yet here he was withering away to nothing forced to abuse his poor cabal mages once more. Instead, he found himself trapped in the parrot, she would've laughed but her noble upbringing meant her face would remain calm and stalwart. She found his arrogance to be insufferable and unsophisticated, but she dallied no more and took account of their surroundings. They were in a forest, the gnome took a bite of the leaves, but she wasn't surprised that the pink haired one do would something so disgusting.

The sorceress stood silently gathering her magic; perhaps a spell could pinpoint precisely where they were. She whispered a spell
"locus revelare" and raised her hand it glowed with green arcane power.With luck she would soon know where exactly she was.

[Constaniana]

Well said, dragon-man, Alejandro thought. He uttered a hurried prayer to his ancestors and saints for protection and guidance, staying out of the way of the tall folk while they filed through the portal. Finally with a flourish of his cape and rapier he leaped into the magic doorway. He frowned when he saw the environment they were in. He was hoping they would have wound up in the capital of Thedusta, where it might be easier to gather news of someone working on an unstoppable army. Maybe they were in the same physical location, but before the kingdom was founded? There was no handy sundial telling when the squad were. Furthermore there was the problem all the trees would pose to his fighting style. He could get to higher ground to drop down on his foes, but he was worried about his vulture-cape getting snagged on all the bloody branches. Maybe having the high ground wouldn't make him as powerful here as back home. The sound of Taxarif brought him out of his tactical reverie, and Don Corabarsqi noticed the bird that seemed as out of place in this biome as he was.

"Taxarif? You are a bird now? Can you still cast the magic to return us to the present when the time here is fulfilled?" the Zaldunmendir asked, trying to keep his calm.

[Ameriganastan]

Well said, dragon-man, Alejandro thought. He uttered a hurried prayer to his ancestors and saints for protection and guidance, staying out of the way of the tall folk while they filed through the portal. Finally with a flourish of his cape and rapier he leaped into the magic doorway. He frowned when he saw the environment they were in. He was hoping they would have wound up in the capital of Thedusta, where it might be easier to gather news of someone working on an unstoppable army. Maybe they were in the same physical location, but before the kingdom was founded? There was no handy sundial telling when the squad were. Furthermore there was the problem all the trees would pose to his fighting style. He could get to higher ground to drop down on his foes, but he was worried about his vulture-cape getting snagged on all the bloody branches. Maybe having the high ground wouldn't make him as powerful here as back home. The sound of Taxarif brought him out of his tactical reverie, and Don Corabarsqi noticed the bird that seemed as out of place in this biome as he was.

"Taxarif? You are a bird now? Can you still cast the magic to return us to the present when the time here is fulfilled?" the Zaldunmendir asked, trying to keep his calm.

"Of course I can. I'm Taxarif Havenwhisper. My current...avian form cannot limit the might of my magic. I've had worse forms anyway."

He gave his wings a test, fluttering up and landing on a nearby branch.

"I guess I should explain this first. Mighty as I am, I'm just as susceptible to age and injury as any mortal man. So when my body starts wearing a bit thin, I journey to a seedy part of the city, find a fit person of the criminal persuasion, and...borrow their body. That body you met me in once belonged to a raider named Fredrick. He was my...I want to say 7th body? Getting hard to keep track. Anyway, I'm sure my powers remain as they usually do. Observe."

He pointed a wing at a nearby tree.

"I COMMAND THE GREAT FORCES OF THUNDER TO REND THIS TREE ASUNDER!"

What that incantation produced was a tiny spark.

"...Okay, we might have a problem here."

[Olthar]

Nadia turned around to witness the exchange between the bird and the caped halfling. She missed the first part, but she quickly figured out what had happened. Somehow, the wizard had unintentionally turned himself into a bird and lost his magic. This was a big problem, but not for the likes of the great Nadia Tibbles, articifer extraordinaire.

"You just wait right there Birdy-Man!" the gnome declared confidently, "I have just the thing to help you!"

Reaching into her tool belt, Nadia dug around for a few moments before pulling out what appeared to be a rolled up piece of fabric. She tossed it in front of her, and it unraveled into an almost impossibly thin black disk. Upon landing on the ground, the earth under it spontaneously fell down, creating a twenty foot wide, ten foot deep hole. Inside the hole was a large work bench filled with papers, tools, scraps of miscellaneous things, and half-finished projects. Around the outside edge, there was a multitude of shelves stocked full with a wide assortment of various items and possibly pure garbage.

Nadia climbed down the ladder into the hole and began digging around on one of the shelves full of bottles with a variety of bizarre liquids. After several minutes, she pulled out one that swirled with gold and deep purple and held it up towards Taxarif.

"Here you go! This will absolutely help you," she paused for a moment, thinking, "Or it will turn your blood into liquid fire and melt your insides. I don't actually remember which one it is. Either way, it's really powerful! See? All the strongest potions have this gold color in it! It's not really gold, though; it's actually dragon urine. That's why it's so strong. Dragon urine makes any potion ten times more powerful and only has a 21.8% chance of changing it to have a completely random, unpredictable effect! I'm pretty sure this one won't, though. I mean, I haven't tested it, but it should totally work right! Wanna try it?"

Nadia held out the potion towards Taxarif in anticipation.

[Esternial]

As his body and soul was cast into the currents of time, Arryn caught glimpses of other timestreams, other realities that all gathered in a infinite mealstrom with countless branches, a relentless torrent of time.

Eventually his feet once again felt solid ground, but Arryn could feel a disturbance stirring inside him. He hailed from another time, another reality - a branch that will hopefully wither and die with their efforts - and it seemed to confuse the holy entity that fueled his divine power. Only momentarily, it seemed, as soon the disturbance faded away, as if an irregularity - a crease - had been ironed away.

While he tried to get his bearings, his fellow volunteers passed through the portal, as did the archmage - though in a slightly different form. An immediate solution to his problem eluded him, but as he pondered a question rose to the surface.

"If we succeed in our efforts, archmage, how will time respond to our continued presence in this world?"

It dawned on him that they had all passed through the portal with very little hesitation. He, blinded by righteous indignation towards the forces of evil, failed to consider the dangers of toying with the fragility of time. The others, some of them mage even, did not question the archmage's idea much either. After all, it was the only one they had left.

"Archmagde, given your current form and overall uselessness perhaps we could enlist the help from your twin of this time period?"

[Ameriganastan]

Nadia turned around to witness the exchange between the bird and the caped halfling. She missed the first part, but she quickly figured out what had happened. Somehow, the wizard had unintentionally turned himself into a bird and lost his magic. This was a big problem, but not for the likes of the great Nadia Tibbles, articifer extraordinaire.

"You just wait right there Birdy-Man!" the gnome declared confidently, "I have just the thing to help you!"

Reaching into her tool belt, Nadia dug around for a few moments before pulling out what appeared to be a rolled up piece of fabric. She tossed it in front of her, and it unraveled into an almost impossibly thin black disk. Upon landing on the ground, the earth under it spontaneously fell down, creating a twenty foot wide, ten foot deep hole. Inside the hole was a large work bench filled with papers, tools, scraps of miscellaneous things, and half-finished projects. Around the outside edge, there was a multitude of shelves stocked full with a wide assortment of various items and possibly pure garbage.

Nadia climbed down the ladder into the hole and began digging around on one of the shelves full of bottles with a variety of bizarre liquids. After several minutes, she pulled out one that swirled with gold and deep purple and held it up towards Taxarif.

"Here you go! This will absolutely help you," she paused for a moment, thinking, "Or it will turn your blood into liquid fire and melt your insides. I don't actually remember which one it is. Either way, it's really powerful! See? All the strongest potions have this gold color in it! It's not really gold, though; it's actually dragon urine. That's why it's so strong. Dragon urine makes any potion ten times more powerful and only has a 21.8% chance of changing it to have a completely random, unpredictable effect! I'm pretty sure this one won't, though. I mean, I haven't tested it, but it should totally work right! Wanna try it?"

Nadia held out the potion towards Taxarif in anticipation.

"...Yeah, I wouldn't drink that lunatic concoction if it was offered to me by the Gods themselves."

I'm not even going to question how or why she had dragon urine on her person. This is why I don't associate with Gnomes.

As his body and soul was cast into the currents of time, Arryn caught glimpses of other timestreams, other realities that all gathered in a infinite mealstrom with countless branches, a relentless torrent of time.

Eventually his feet once again felt solid ground, but Arryn could feel a disturbance stirring inside him. He hailed from another time, another reality - a branch that will hopefully wither and die with their efforts - and it seemed to confuse the holy entity that fueled his divine power. Only momentarily, it seemed, as soon the disturbance faded away, as if an irregularity - a crease - had been ironed away.

While he tried to get his bearings, his fellow volunteers passed through the portal, as did the archmage - though in a slightly different form. An immediate solution to his problem eluded him, but as he pondered a question rose to the surface.

"If we succeed in our efforts, archmage, how will time respond to our continued presence in this world?"

It dawned on him that they had all passed through the portal with very little hesitation. He, blinded by righteous indignation towards the forces of evil, failed to consider the dangers of toying with the fragility of time. The others, some of them mage even, did not question the archmage's idea much either. After all, it was the only one they had left.

"Archmagde, given your current form and overall uselessness perhaps we could enlist the help from your twin of this time period?"

"Absolutely not! I told you before we came through that we can't interact with our past selves. There's no telling the havoc that could cause. Hell, it could bring about something worse than the Corpse Lord. As for your first question...you're not going to like the answer. If we succeed in this quest, then the Corpse Lord will never rise to power. If he never rises to power, then we never had a need to travel back in time. The timeline we originate from will never come to be. In other words..."

He looked around, trying to find a nice way to put it.

"Well, if the timeline we come from never existed, then neither would these versions of us who hail from it. To put it simply, there's a very high chance we will simply be erased from time if we are successful. We will never come to be, and our past selves will continue on an entirely new chronological path."

[Canis Rex]

Garren initially thought this forest they landed in was probably one of the better places they could have started. It looked like somewhere he and his clan would have camped when they still moved around a lot. But then things just got dimmer as they went.
Their mage had somehow gotten himself stuck inside a bird's body(things like that being the exact reasons the former raider never got into magic himself), the issue appearing to diminish his powers, one of their group pulling more crazy magic, and now the idea being raised that the very possible outcome for all of them after this quest was to be erased from existence. For a moment it crossed his mind that might not be so bad. The him before all of this was much happier with his life. And after he had only felt alternating episodes of sorrow and rage, scraping by on whatever it took to make it to the next day or town, from thieving to murder.
He raised his hand, staring at it and trying to imagine what being erased would feel like, what not existing would be. It was understandably difficult. But that exact sacrifice would allow his loved ones to live again as well as be one last defiance to the Corpse Lord that he could not keep him mired in grief after vengeance was taken because he would be gone as well. Maybe it would even feel as if nothing happened at all, like waking from a sleep.
"If that's the price." Garren speaks for the first time since they jumped timelines. "I think we can afford it."

[Esternial]

The dragonkin Paladin frowned as he heard the archmage's answer, but he suspected as much. He knew little of the intricacies of time, but those that messed with it rarely came out of it unscathed. One rogue mage he had hunted down for months had made that abundantly clear - the man had dabbled with temporal magic and gone completely crazy because of it. If ceasing to exist was the price they paid, it was a merciful one.

"So, how do we proceed, arch-bird?"

[Olthar]

Nadia Tibbles looked at Taxarif, then the potion, then back at the mage. She shrugged her shoulders and then placed the bottle back on the shelf.

"Your loss," she declared as she climbed back up out of the hole, "Nothing ventured; nothing gained. Can't win if you don't take risks, and it sounds like saving the future will cost us ours, anyways."

The gnome grabbed the edge of the hole and pulled it up out of the ground. The lab and everything disappeared in a flash, and the black fabric reappeared. Nadia began rolling it back up while waiting for the others to come up with a plan of action or at least a direction.

[Ameriganastan]

Garren initially thought this forest they landed in was probably one of the better places they could have started. It looked like somewhere he and his clan would have camped when they still moved around a lot. But then things just got dimmer as they went.
Their mage had somehow gotten himself stuck inside a bird's body(things like that being the exact reasons the former raider never got into magic himself), the issue appearing to diminish his powers, one of their group pulling more crazy magic, and now the idea being raised that the very possible outcome for all of them after this quest was to be erased from existence. For a moment it crossed his mind that might not be so bad. The him before all of this was much happier with his life. And after he had only felt alternating episodes of sorrow and rage, scraping by on whatever it took to make it to the next day or town, from thieving to murder.
He raised his hand, staring at it and trying to imagine what being erased would feel like, what not existing would be. It was understandably difficult. But that exact sacrifice would allow his loved ones to live again as well as be one last defiance to the Corpse Lord that he could not keep him mired in grief after vengeance was taken because he would be gone as well. Maybe it would even feel as if nothing happened at all, like waking from a sleep.
"If that's the price." Garren speaks for the first time since they jumped timelines. "I think we can afford it."

"Hmm. You surprise me, young raider. I expected you to be furious. You must be one of the good ones. Shame the rest of your ilk aren't as agreeable."

The dragonkin Paladin frowned as he heard the archmage's answer, but he suspected as much. He knew little of the intricacies of time, but those that messed with it rarely came out of it unscathed. One rogue mage he had hunted down for months had made that abundantly clear - the man had dabbled with temporal magic and gone completely crazy because of it. If ceasing to exist was the price they paid, it was a merciful one.

"So, how do we proceed, arch-bird?"

"Well first off, we need to ascertain exactly where we have exited. I believe our royal enchantress over there is divining the answer as we speak."

Indeed, her spell would reveal their exiting point as Taxarif finished speaking.

"And we are...my goodness, quite a ways away. We're near the border of Rugan and the Forested Realms. Guess that explains all the foliage. Well, we have the where. Now we need to figure out the when. There should be a village near here named Ustur. That will be our first destination. And where we will figure out how far back we've been sent. I sadly had no time to figure out the machinations for a precise time, so our destination was quite random."

Nadia Tibbles looked at Taxarif, then the potion, then back at the mage. She shrugged her shoulders and then placed the bottle back on the shelf.

"Your loss," she declared as she climbed back up out of the hole, "Nothing ventured; nothing gained. Can't win if you don't take risks, and it sounds like saving the future will cost us ours, anyways."

The gnome grabbed the edge of the hole and pulled it up out of the ground. The lab and everything disappeared in a flash, and the black fabric reappeared. Nadia began rolling it back up while waiting for the others to come up with a plan of action or at least a direction.

"Yes, our futures may be lost. But I'll kindly preserve my present by not imbibing that mixture of yours. Besides, I'm the great Taxarif Havenwhisper. I can figure out a solution to my current situation. Cause I'm amazing."

He glided down from his branch and landed on one of her pigtails.

"Though I will commandeer your ample follicles for a traveling perch. Very comfy by the way. Now, let us make haste for Ustur. Giddy-up!"

[Novas Arcanum]

Lady Orléans would soon divine the location of where they were at. With Taxarif the parrot lacking in the magic department it seemed the team would have to rely on her magicks for the time being. It appeared that they were near the Forested Realms and Rugan lands steeped in the mysteries.She had only read tiny tidbits of the area in her Arcane Library in Royale Bordeaux and knew next to nothing of the Southerners and their ways of living. Merci! I know little of this land it's culture or customs I pray that the people here are not savages . She thought to herself.

"if there are no more questions to be asked then I suggest we carry onwards to Ustur" The sorceress having divined their location soon held her hand as she sensed the location of Ustur. She felt life energy flowing from the town and soon walked towards it.

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

Vukubcane immediately smiled with some glee as he heard where they were. He had suspected as much, judging from the familiar lay of the land. These were the forests where he grew up. The scent was familiar, so familiar… The last time he had seen them, these forests had burned with an orange glow, casting light against the distant clouds as they moved beyond sight. The birds, the beasts, the insects, the plants, all gone. Now, they were back. Vukubcane smiled a broad smile, both seeing his homeland again and making his task a lot easier. If they found the spear, it would not take him long to get it to the Blood Cults and urge them to victory. They could even sacrifice his companions to give hope to a good and bloody campaign. If they travelled to the Empire of the Moon, he could swap in his mismatch of companions for an actual company of blood screamers. Now, that was a company to have.

“How about…” he said carefully “We head to the Forested Realms. My people are fierce warriors, but very hospitable. They will welcome you with open arms! That would give us… a base of operations!”

“After we visit Ustur, of course, oh Wizard”

Perhaps his people knew how to give him a body. By the end of this, they would have bodies to spare.

[Constaniana]

Taxarif's revelation of their probable fates once the quest was finished sounded better than being torn to shreds by a horde of skeletons like far too many of his kin had already suffered. At least there would be some version of Alejandro Don Corabarsqi still out there in the tomorrow the team would drill a path to. Maybe the son of a shepherd would have a different name or some other unpredictable ripple effect like that, but there was nothing to complain about on a rational level. Giving one's life to complete the mission was something any good soldier was willing to do, but it felt a bit funny to think that completing the mission guaranteed his termination. Duty and vengeance would drive the soldier forward until the time came. Maybe in those last fleeting moments as he was unraveled into the mists of time he would partake in some self-pity or fear.

"Lead on, Calaichi woman," said Alejandro, leaping down from tree to plod on the ground for now. He still drew his rapier and buckler just in case some beast attacked.

[Esternial]

The Forested Realms. Arryn had passed through these lands on occasion and wasn't very fond of them. The wild animals alone were a challenge for any unseasoned traveller, but the blood bands that lurked in these jungles were fierceless and more dangerous than any wild animal. They were wild zealots dedicated solely to shedding blood - others' or their own. So, when Vukubcane suggested they travel into the Forested Realms, Arryn didn't believed a word of it. He had experienced the Forested Realms' hospitality first-hand and wasn't keen on facing it again. Glancing at Vukubcane, he couldn't help but distrust the man. His apparrel, the way he carried himself.

A filthy savage.

He felt his hand tighten around the hilt, but restrained himself. The nature of his intention were still unclear to him, but whether they were pure or not, Arryn wasn't going to follow along.

"We shall do no such thing. Those lands are teeming with blood cultists, and I haven't travelled back in time to fight some filthy savages. We will press on for Ustur." He boomed, lifting his sword and resting it on his shoulder. He looked at the enchantress, waiting for her to plot their route.

[Ameriganastan]

Vukubcane immediately smiled with some glee as he heard where they were. He had suspected as much, judging from the familiar lay of the land. These were the forests where he grew up. The scent was familiar, so familiar… The last time he had seen them, these forests had burned with an orange glow, casting light against the distant clouds as they moved beyond sight. The birds, the beasts, the insects, the plants, all gone. Now, they were back. Vukubcane smiled a broad smile, both seeing his homeland again and making his task a lot easier. If they found the spear, it would not take him long to get it to the Blood Cults and urge them to victory. They could even sacrifice his companions to give hope to a good and bloody campaign. If they travelled to the Empire of the Moon, he could swap in his mismatch of companions for an actual company of blood screamers. Now, that was a company to have.

“How about…” he said carefully “We head to the Forested Realms. My people are fierce warriors, but very hospitable. They will welcome you with open arms! That would give us… a base of operations!”

“After we visit Ustur, of course, oh Wizard”

Perhaps his people knew how to give him a body. By the end of this, they would have bodies to spare.

"Hmm. Not a terrible idea. We are a small band and I don't know what trials await us on our hunt for the Corpse Lord or his weapon. He may very well have a small army for protection."

Taxarif was many things. Powerful. Old. A baker of a mean rhubarb tart. But he was also trusting. A little too trusting at times. Hence his utter obliviousness at the Elf's obvious ill intentions.

"Very well young Elf. If we have traveled back in time far enough, we may seek your peoples help."

The Forested Realms. Arryn had passed through these lands on occasion and wasn't very fond of them. The wild animals alone were a challenge for any unseasoned traveller, but the blood bands that lurked in these jungles were fierceless and more dangerous than any wild animal. They were wild zealots dedicated solely to shedding blood - others' or their own. So, when Vukubcane suggested they travel into the Forested Realms, Arryn didn't believed a word of it. He had experienced the Forested Realms' hospitality first-hand and wasn't keen on facing it again. Glancing at Vukubcane, he couldn't help but distrust the man. His apparrel, the way he carried himself.

A filthy savage.

He felt his hand tighten around the hilt, but restrained himself. The nature of his intention were still unclear to him, but whether they were pure or not, Arryn wasn't going to follow along.

"We shall do no such thing. Those lands are teeming with blood cultists, and I haven't traveled back in time to fight some filthy savages. We will press on for Ustur." He boomed, lifting his sword and resting it on his shoulder. He looked at the enchantress, waiting for her to plot their route.

"Steady your temper my scaly accomplice. I too have experienced the...hospitable nature of the residents of the land. A primordial of nature once rose from this very forest. And I sought the help of our rangers kind for assistance."

He grimaced slightly recalling the event.

"My reward was a projectile in the patella for intruding on their land. Only when the beast was breathing down their necks did they agree to help. So I'm sure they'll assist us once they hear our story."

[Olthar]

Nadia was just finishing putting away her portable hole when Taxarif landed on her head. She wasn't sure why he chose her head; it hadn't been washed in months. Surely, the princess witch would have made a better perch. Maybe birds can't smell? The gnome didn't actually know much about animals. Regardless, she didn't much care.

"Do the forest people have any fire jelly slime?" she asked to no one in particular, "I could really use some more of that to restock my supplies."

The gnome saw that the princess witch was walking away from the group and seemed to know where she was going. Nadia began following her, hoping to find some fire jellies. She, of course, had no idea where fire jellies actually lived.

[Novas Arcanum]

Madame Orléans was many things. Éléonore was a powerful sorceress, a patron of the arts and literature, a noble of the landed gentry. She was however not a fool, while she lacked any evidence Éléonore still believed the blood elf was up to something, something sinister and she would not tolerate whatever foul deed that savage was planning. She knew how barbaric and primitive the blood elves where,that they committed all sorts of atrocities and that their bloodlust knew no bounds. She knew that no blood elf was to be trusted under any circumstances whatsoever. Indeed hell would freeze over before the Calaisien would heed the words of that barbarian.

"Imbécile!" She shouted at Vukabane in Calaisien which was a surprising turn from her usual quiet demeanor. "I know not what you plot but we shall do no such thing! I know of the foul things your kind of done, you have sacrificed the heroic and noble Chevaliers in the name of your savage gods, your hatred and disdain of humans knows no bounds, and I know that whatever you are plotting is not for the good of the fellowship!"

"Taxarif I mean no disrespect, but we shall head to Urstur and nowhere else especially the Forested Realms! I say this not out of spite but for the survival of the fellowship!" The Madame said with utmost confidence and zeal. She proceeded to raise her hands, and a magical stream of light appeared out of thin air that would guide them to Urstur.

"Come now we haven't got all day!" She then proceeded to follow the light.

[Canis Rex]

One side of Garren's mouth turned upwards at the insinuation he was any kind of good. First time for that. He and his entire clan had known they weren't good people and had done objectively bad things. Hell, they still weren't above jumping any stray travelers that got too close, right up until the very end. They only had to stop traveling and setting up ambushes because there just came to be too many people and they couldn't accommodate that much moving and supplies consumption anymore on the run.
His father had raised him in it, his sons were too young to know how wrong of a person their parent was, and even his wife had never said he was good. She simply looked over and forgave his trespasses so long as he proved he was working for their life. It took years to earn that trust given how she came into the clan.
The humor was quickly lost on a suggestion from the apparent blood elf. He would have laughed if the situation weren't so serious. He had experience in those tricks to.
"That's the exact kind of thing we spread to lure people in." The ex-raider replied. "I'd admire it any other time. We'll follow as you wish, mage, just know when you're walking into a fight. And we will be there." He left it at that, pointing himself in the direction the very fancy member of their group had indicated with her light and following on to Urstur.

[Novas Arcanum]

"Do not underestimate me, Garren, I have been in many fights in my lifetime, all who have crossed and betrayed me have ended up dead or begging for death".She paused for effect."I am as deadly as I am precise do not forget that".She then proceeded to walk ahead following the pathway she had created. Honestly, she was tired of the others underestimating her. She was the Royal Enchantress of one of the largest and most powerful nations on the planet. She knew the fellows she traveled with where provincial but she believed that they would be at least somewhat knowledgeable and respectable of the title she carried to her name. It did not matter as usual she would to prove to herself that she was more than a lady, that she could be as fierce as any sword-wielding warrior.

[Esternial]

"Steady your temper my scaly accomplice. I too have experienced the...hospitable nature of the residents of the land. A primordial of nature once rose from this very forest. And I sought the help of our rangers kind for assistance."

He grimaced slightly recalling the event.

"My reward was a projectile in the patella for intruding on their land. Only when the beast was breathing down their necks did they agree to help. So I'm sure they'll assist us once they hear our story."

The dragonkin scoffed, barely noticeable plumes of smoke blowing from his nostrils as he listened to the archmages' words, meant to quench his concerns - he found they did not do much of the sort. Taxarif's current track record didn't reassure him at all. The old had a tendency to be naive, and Taxarif was very, very old.

"I'm sure they'll help us to an early grave." Arryn retorted. From first impressions, there were few people here he'd trust for any kind of guidance in this group, but fortunately Madame Orléans seemed to have a healthy dose of criticism, even though she was quite posh and cocky. Either way, if his first impressions were correct, they'll no doubt face a serious uphill battle just getting everyone to Ustur. As he followed their magical prissy pathfinder and her path of light, Arryn gazed around him - weary of potential threats and wondering if he could fashion a bird cage out of some twigs.

[Ameriganastan]

"Such a distrusting group you lot are. You're going to have to learn to rely on each other if we want to succeed. Take our royal enchantress here."

He departed from his gnome perch and came to rest on her shoulder.

"I've known her naught but an hour or so at most. But I trust her directions will lead us exactly where we need to go. Why I guarantee once we clear the heavy forest, we'll arrive safe and sound in Ustur."

Lo and behold, the party arrived in a large clearing exiting into a flat plain...a flat plain teeming with about 15 very nasty looking people in robes...who also happened to each be carrying a rather severe looking ceremonial dagger.

"...Uh...hello, gentleman. Sorry to intrude on...whatever it is you're on your way to do. I'm sure we can resolve this situation without any violence."

The did not appear to be the case, as they descended upon the group.

"...Okay, I know I spoke of the dangers of interfering with time...but screw that. Kill these guys."

[Esternial]

It was inevitable that they would run into some kind of trouble, but Arryn had hoped it wouldn't be so soon. It couldn't be helped. Pushing his shoulder upward, Arryn gave the heavy blade resting on just enough momentum to forward and slam into the ground in front of him. A few of the robes figures nearby seemed to be reconsidering their decision, comparing their dimensionally challenged daggers with Arryn's longer and broader sword. At the same time, though, they realised their shortcoming in reach could be compensated by speed. It helped ease their doubts.

Just at that moment, though, Arryn took a deep breath and proclaimed the following to all:

"You will all perish before the splendid radiance of the Light!" He bellowed, tensing up his muscles and dragging the sword along the ground to his side, carving a crescent-shaped trench in the soil. A few reconsidered, but given their identical appearance they seemed very vulnerable to peer pressure.

Two brave souls approached Arryn, one hoping to dodge the Paladin's swings while the other would attempt to backstab their foe.

Arryn roared furiously, letting go of the hilt of his blade and throwing his shield against the comparatively weaker skull of his nearest opponent. The man abruptly fell to the ground. Realising he had a lot less time than he anticipated, the second abandoned all attempts at subtlety and went in for a direct attack. With a sly flourish he struck, but before he could reach the dragonkin had grabbed hold of his head. Angered and afraid, he lashed out with his dagger, slicing Arryn's arm. In response, Arryn unceremoniously punched him in the stomach with his free arm, causing him to lose his grip and drop the dagger.

"FEEL THE POWER OF THE LIGHT!"

As it retained its strong hold on the robed figure's head, Arryn's hand began to glow dimly. The man screeched in agony as a pure white light erupted from his eyes and mouth. Anyone nearby would begin to detect the faint smell of burnt flesh as the screams died down. Once the light had subsided, the man's eyes had been completely scorched, leaving two black holes in their stead. His mouth was similarly burnt, his tongue baked several stages past well-done.

The man that had made an intimate encounter with Arryn's shield looked up from the comfy dirt he had settled on and couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated.

Meanwhile, Arryn let out a glorious laugh and grabbed hold of his sword once more. Anybody that worked with him in the past would have been able to warn the others about this. He was zealous, confident and very very dedicated.

[Olthar]

The gnome articifer skipped along happily, swatting aside shrubs and vines with a large wrench. Though she was a curious sort with a singularly scientific mind, she did not care at all for plants and nature. She found such things too boring to hold her attention and passed by them without a second glance. She was also not a fan of the outdoors, in general, with all its nasty and creepy bugs. Spiders look a lot bigger when you're only three and a half feet tall.

Nadia Tibbles had hoped that the clearing up ahead would be her relief, and she raced for it, bursting out of the underbrush. When she saw the robed individuals, she was just about to greet them. However, she quickly realized that they must be doing some sort of religious thing and decided not to bother them. She was going to leave it at that, but then Taxarif bothered them and they began brandishing their daggers menacingly.

For most of her life, Nadia had never once engaged in any form of combat, but the undead apocalypse changed that. She had tried to avoid the hordes of the dead as best she could, but she couldn't always do that. She was forced to discover another side of herself in order to survive, and she learned what burning flesh smelled like. Nevertheless, she didn't enjoy it, and she certainly didn't want to kill living people.

Nadia quickly pulled out her wand of fireballs and held it out in front of her, but her hands were shaking. She slowly inched backwards towards the forest, but the individuals in robes kept approaching.

"S-stay back!" she shouted, her voice quivering.

The cultists ignored her desperate plea and began charging her, knives at the ready. Tears began streaming down Nadia's face, and she closed her eyes tightly. She screamed, and small orange sphere launched from the tip of her wand. It flew towards the approaching enemies and exploded in a brilliant flash of light and heat. The three cultists were knocked backwards several feet and fell on the ground, scorch marks all over their robes and the familiar smell of burning flesh wafting off of them.

[Novas Arcanum]

Madame Orléans said nothing as she cast her spells at the barbaric cultists. She raised her hands and summoned powerful and electrifying bolts of arcane energy and shot it with breathtaking precision at the fools who dared to oppose her. They convoluted and writhed in pain as the blasts hit them shocked that a lady possesses such deadly power. Whenever the cultists came too close for comfort she raised her hands and summoned gusts of wind knocking them to their feet.

She felt no mercy, as she cut them down, bolt after bolt of electricity coursing through her veins and launching from her fingertips. She was wholly committed to destroying the threat, but for just a second she took notice of the dragonkin, and how impressive he was, such a great member of the team he would prove to be as he sliced the cultists with zeal swinging his greatsword with ease. The gnome also surprised her as well, but in a good way as she too charged into the battle with such vigor that it shocked the Calaisien.

In the meantime, the sorceress continued fighting with deadly persistence, but she slowly found her energy draining. Being a mage she required arcana to cast spells, for now, she would fight, but she prayed that the fight would come to an end, the longer it took, the more tired she would become. Still, she was highly trained in the arcane arts and would never allow herself to collapse from exhaustion. She had a lot of fight left within her and would kill as many cultists as she could.

[Constaniana]

Alejandro had the thought that it seemed like this skirmish was more like a barbecue than a battle, what with the amount of burnt bodies piling up. His main flashy trick was dropping down on people's heads, but that wouldn't be possible in this boring flat land the party was now in. Maybe I could convince the dragon to fly me up and then drop me. He seems dependable enough to not mess it up.

"Die, infidel!" a cultist yelled as he and some comrades noticed the diminutive soldier at last and moved to engage. It was smarter for the halfling to let the enemy take the initiative since his stride was shorter and he would just wear himself out running over to the tall folk. Don Corabarsqui only gave a defiant laugh and swish of the cape in reply, before thrusting his rapier into the lower abdomen of the closest enemy. The narrow blade easily slid back out of its target in time for Alejandro to stab into another cultist, this time thrusting up into his right armpit. Another tried his luck against the Zaldunmendir. The Jordeusqan didn't have enough time to pick where he was stabbing first, so he resorted to smashing the man's kneecaps with his buckler. That drove the unfortunate cultist to the ground, and gave Alejandro the chance to slit his throat. Then the one with the bleeding armpit tried slashing again and again, only to be blocked Alejandro's buckler. The tall folk can be most dangerous when forced to the cliff's edge, Alejandro reminded himself, as the prospect of impending death by halfling seemed to have given the robed man a last burst of desperate skill and speed.