Beyond Light's Reach (IC Reboot)

[Auropa]

Werakoya

Krook Tolasthes

Ylva Pathmaykr

Originally thinking about how she could turn the conversation towards the Thalor Krook’s food and its welcoming aroma, Ylva’s expression hardened as the Goliath beside her explained her past and the pieces began to fall into place.

“If they abandon their children, then they do not deserve to be called a clan.” She said resolutely before softening her expression and letting out a somewhat rough sigh.

“I’m sorry to hear they left you, truly. But I’m glad to hear you weren’t alone, even if it’s with the squi-, the other races, there’s nothing stopping you from making the bonds that matter most. And while I’m flattered by the offer, making a clan is, well it’s pretty complicated. I’d reckon we’d need at least a reader or a speaker and well, if I’m being completely honest I don’t think my kin would be all that happy about me 2 clanning. But if you’d have me, I’d be glad to call you a friend.” Ylva said with a chuckle and warm smile.

Though try as she might, she couldn’t stop the creeping discomfort within her. The Harutan was clear about how the clanless should be seen. According to the code, those that were banished from their clan or unable to die with them in battle were less than nothing, honourless. But this one was wasn’t banished, she was abandoned, and as a child no less. Surely that allowed for an exception of sorts. She was raised to be free, to make her own path through her own strength, the thought denying someone that for the choices they could never have been a part of left Ylva’s stomach churning and was something she refused to do.

“But that’s enough of that.” She stated closer to her natural tone as she shook off her doubts. “And its nice to meet you too Krook, even nicer when you’re offering deer.” She said cheerfully as she took a chunk of meat from the bag and casually tossed a portion of it into her mouth. “Offers open to you too big guy. No such thing as too many friends on a path. Oh! And squishies are sort of a nickname my people give to a few of the other races. It tends to be accurate enough and some of the young ones like it since they think it means they don’t need to remember the difference between an elf and a human.” She added with a shrug as she tossed another piece of meat into her waiting mouth.

‘A strange, but far from unpleasant group’ Ylva thought to herself as she relaxed and enjoyed the taste of the well-seasoned deer while joining Krook in being completely oblivious to the growing tension and movement around them.

Brialya

Syn of Ashar

Gwendolyn Sirrade

For a while now Gwen had been standing beside the temple entrance, waiting for something to happen and apart from seeing her travel companion ignore her duties in favour of chasing down the nearest cooked meal again, nothing had caught her attention. At least that's how it was until the expedition’s metal golem and its master started moving away from the camp and around the temple. Most people seemed to pay it no real heed, likely used to and bored with the duo’s movements, but already hoping for some sort of trouble to spark today, Gwen chose to follow it in case it would give her the opportunity she had been looking for. What she wasn’t expecting though, was to not be the only one tailing the pair.

While watching it work on creating a new entrance into the temple and deciding on when the best moment to intervene would be, a new voice rung out as the athelian elf made herself known and called out against the golem and its master’s actions. Cursing the metal creature for distracting her, Gwen ducked behind the tree she was taking cover behind and began to rethink her options. Before she could do anything though, the man to explained his actions as based on curiosity rather than anything nefarious and went on to make what she could only describe as a pitiful attempt to sway the elf to his side.

The disappointment was borderline palpable. For a single, perfect moment Gwen thought that she had uncovered a plot of some sort, but no seasoned criminal or rogue would do something so… dull. In an instant her hopes of valour, battle and redemption were dashed as this small man stumbled his way towards his pet monster’s newly made door and steadily backed away from the elven archer before him.

“Brilliant. Another waste of time then!” Gwen exclaimed as she stepped from her hiding place and moved towards the others.

“And here I thought you and your pet were absconding to do something actually interesting for a change.” She stated as she placed her hands on her hips and shifted her gaze impatiently between the two in front of her.

“Well?” She added bluntly before any response could be given. “If the hole is already there then what are we waiting for? You’re clearly of the theocracy so as long you venture with us then ther should no issues on religious front. And you can go in first to wipe off some of the dust and debris your poor excuse of an entrance left for us.”

[Lazarian]

Dulen

Festus Attore

"Wait, THE Dulen Varcan? The author?" replied Festus, eyes wide in surprise. "Well, I'm honored to meet 'ya. I've actually read one of your books - Love in Littletown, I believe. Rather a daring move to write such a romance between elf and man, to be quite honest. Heard that the Athelan factions in Durnhall attempted to ban the work, if I remember correctly."

Gradually making his way around answering Dulen's question, Festus carried on. "I've been on the road for a couple months now. I'm from the monastery at Trennam. Fate, for whatever reason, has decided that I was meant to journey away from home. " Festus replied, his smile slightly less genuine. "But as to the specifics, I've been travelling with a Dascian lady by the name of Sabrina. A talented sorceress with a weakness for sherry, which turned out to be my ticket here. There's no real reason why I'm here as opposed to anywhere else, as far as I can tell." he said with a shrug.

Suddenly, a small contingent of Athelaian soldiers began to walk towards the temple. It wasn't a casual walk - no, they were marching towards an objective. Festus fell silent, observing them closely. All joking and chatting aside, it was good to keep an eye on whatever was going on. The various factions had been pleasant to each other so far, but he knew that this situation was a ticking time bomb. Being a Freelander, he was innately a little opposed to all three camps.

The Dascians were snobby and stuck up, for his tastes. A society dominated by nobles and magic talent, with the poor and talent-less living in the gutters. When he was a child, he'd ridden with his parents along the roads from Durnhall to Halsha. And back then, the magical sights and sounds of Halsha had entranced him. But as he'd grown, the glamour of the place began to fall away. Over time, it was easy to see the rot hidden behind those gilded streets. Four years in a magic academy hadn't made him fond of the nation, and it was doubtful that he'd ever be particularly glad to see those wizards around.

The Tasharen were admittedly the group he knew the least about. Ranging to the South, this nation supposedly was warlike and expansionist. He'd heard of them ransacking Hurelan cities in the past, though it'd been rather peaceful in his lifetime. While he held no quarrel with them in particular, the Abbot told tales of the burning of Southhill. And his parents always did seem to have a grudge against Tasharen merchants, for whatever reason. He didn't hold any true animosity towards that contingent, but he knew that there were certainly historical grudges between the Dascians and the Tasharen.

Now the Athelans, on the other hand, Festus actively disliked. Not elves, mind you. Elves were fine. In fact, the populations of Durnhall and Trennam were majority elven, probably sixty percent. Humans were thirty, and then beastfolk and dwarves were the last ten percent. But there were severe differences between Hurelan and Athelan elves, ones that couldn't be reconciled. Hurelan elves were basically men with pointy ears. Athelan elves, on the other hand, were xenophobic and troublesome creatures. There was nothing worse than running into a group of Athelan Guardians attempting to enforce the way of the "Light" outside of their borders. His folks had been robbed and beaten by a travelling Athelans brigade once, as some sort of "lesson" for "spreading false beliefs too close to Athelan lands". He remembered that day bitterly. The year had been incredibly rough after that, with it taking several months to regain the supplies and profits they had lost.

It was no surprise, he mused, that they were the ones to finally set the spark. The group of Athelan Guardians quickly arrived, setting up a line in front of the temple entrance, barring all from entry. Festus scowled, pulling his quarterstaff from his back and strapping the lute to his belt. As jovial as the Merry Men may be, no Freelander is a stranger to conflict.

"Of course the pointies are up to their usual work." he said rather irritably, before turning to Prax and Nef.

"Hey, I just want you to know if things go south, I wouldn't be very tasty. There's much better options. I'm afraid all the wine has probably spoiled my meat." he said rather cheerfully, though not entirely joking.

[Zjaum]

Ylva

Krook Tolasthes

Werakoya Eyeketrau

Krook was calm and collected. He was friendly, and open to sharing. Werakoya seldom experienced these qualities, and treasured them where she could find them. The crocodile would make a fine acquaintance. What's more, she was reasonably hungry. For practical purposes, Goliaths were carnivores. The vagabond diet she'd maintained all her life had little room for such nutrition and, when it did, it was only the easily-producible meats like beef and pork. Hunted deer was a luxury she could never afford, or at least couldn't for decades. She was salivating, but... perhaps this was too much of a luxury.

And then Ylva came in. The sympathy was appreciated, but apparently the rogue had a lot more to learn about clan-ship. Werakoya honestly didn't know the difference between a clan and a group of friends, so Ylva's proposal was just the same by her.

Ylva had through her acceptance earned herself a considerable amount of goodwill, albeit a little less when she took two strips of deer. Werakoya wasn't a genius, but it didn't take one to do the math. Three giants, two of which were burly warriors and the other of which had been starved of meat, all sharing a single buck... what remained of that buck probably wasn't going to fill everyone. Was it worse to reject Krook's offer, or to rob him of the few strips remaining? Krook was a kindly creature for offering, but that was precisely why he should have a larger share. But... deer flesh... One piece would be enough, right?

"Thank you very kindly for the offer, Mister Tolasthes. I think I'll take you up on it, then!"

Eyeketrau was true to her commitment, only taking a single piece. Now, she was hungry. She hadn't had meat in a while. But, even taking those things into consideration, it was the best singular piece of food she ever had. She nearly fell over, and all the pain in her backside seemed to melt away by comparison. She regretted committing to only one strip, but, to be fair, it was more than her daily average meat intake. "It was very good, Mister Tolasthes. I quite appreciate it."

She turned to her Goliath friend. "I'm glad we're going to be friends, Miss Path Maker."

Shoot, she had just ended the conversation. That wasn't good. She never wanted to end a conversation with acquaintances of her own accord; the pause between the conclusion and the farewell was just too unbearable. Knowing this, Eyeketrau straightened herself up. "So, bows and hammers. Were you both raised on those, or do you like them better than other weapons?" She let out a nervous chuckle, holding up her mildly-concealed crowbar. "I was kinda raised on this."

[North Timeria]

“Aymeri wake up! Your mother cooked breakfast.” Aymeri slowly rolled over and opened his eyes. He had just got home last night and spent it at the tavern.

“Interesting night? You barely locked up Aquarius. If that horse was smart he would have left already.”

His father left and Aymeri headed to the table. “Morning mother.”

“Good morning Aymeri. Your brother should be joining us shortly.”

His brother Kaden enters shortly and sits beside Aymeri. As he gets ready to eat his mother gives him a look. He quickly pulls his hand back. “Thank you Zoros for this delicious rabbit.” Kaden says jokingly. They all repeat it and continue their breakfast.

“Kaden, Aymeri I need you guys in the barn today. Ashbrook is coming by today to look at a few horses.”

“Ariana’s father?” Kaden asks.

“Of course… I’ll need your help to prep and make sure everything is ready. Got it Aymeri?”

“Yes, father.”

They chat while they eat their meal, Aymeri talks about his last job but doesn’t mention his suspicions on the cargo. The boys all laugh together at their dangerous stories while Aymeri’s mother shakes her head.

“Sometimes I wish Qrodia would have blessed me with daughters. Life would be a lot less stressful.” she said jokingly. Once finished the boys headed outside to help their father.

They lived on a decent-sized farm on the outskirts of the city. This is where his father raised and breed all of their horses. Horses from the farm Nerena farm were known for their quickness and stamina. Many of the horses they breed were meant to draw carriages and many knights would buy from his father. Once inside they got to work, prepping the horses for Mr. Ashbrook. It wasn’t hard work for Aymeri as he grew up doing it. While working in the barn Mr. Ashbrook arrived along with his financial advisor.

“Aymeri! You’re back it’s good to see you.”

“Mr. Ashbrook thank you. It wasn’t that long of a trip.”

“That’s excellent because I’ll need you soon … After I finish speaking with your father I’d like to talk to you about a job.”

Aymeri’s father walks in to welcome Mr. Ashbrook and his father dismisses the boys. They head outside to get out oft he way. They head to their training grounds where Kaden had set up an area for Aymeri to practice.

“How long are you going to keep working for Mr. Ashbrook?” Kaden asks.

“Ugh, I’m not sure… Mr. Ashbrook has been a long time client and he pays well.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about… You really think he’ll let his daughter marry his courier.”

Aymeri was a bit caught off guard by Kaden’s claim. He quickly changed his expression to not give away any sense of emotion. It wasn’t really a secret but he and his brother rarely spoke about it. His brother knew how he felt about Ariana and how his father had stepped in between the two. The times they did speak about it were when they were both too drunk to hold their tongue.

“Stop it. It’s not that simple.” Aymeri replied, not wanting to have this conversation with Mr. Ashbrook around. “It’s time for you to move up-” Kaden tried to ger his point across before being interrupted by Aymeri.

“Just shut up and let us get to training, I can’t remember the last time I managed to beat you.” Kaden laughed and agreed.

Kaden worked with his brother to improve his combat skills. Aymeri was often on the road and has had his fair share of close calls. Kaden started to take it more seriously when Aymeri returned with a deep wound that almost hit his liver. “Keep fighting like that and you won’t make it home next time.” Kaden would often say this to Aymeri when he saw him slack off.

“Aymeri I see your brother has been training you… I’ve heard stories of his bravery on the battlefield.” Mr. Ashbrook said, watching Aymeri train. “Thank you, sir.” Kaden replied as he dropped his sword. “Too bad I’m retired now… All I get to see are drunks and horses.”

“Aymeri I’d like you to come by tonight. We’re having a feast and I’d like you to meet my partners we have an important job that we want you to handle.”

“Of course I’ll be there.”

“Great, I’m sure Ariana would be glad to see you.”

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Neferis Lahari

---

---

Neferis raised an eyebrow at the dwarven author as he remarked that a vulgar bar fight could be just as fulfilling as a real battle. While she knew that a brawl could certainly be entertaining, there was little that truly compared to the rush felt while participating in a true fight where one's life had been wagered. However, she doubted she'd be able to convince the little man - he clearly had a much different outlook on life than she did - and, ultimately, it was hardly something worth arguing over. So instead the she-wolf shrugged and listened as the dwarf instead commented on her deeds.

"Certainly, Merry Man. If we are all alive by nightfall, I will be happy to tell you all about it." She stated.

Facing Dulen as she was, Neferis had her back towards the temple entrance and so did not notice when the Athelaians quietly began making their move, taking positions next to it and preparing to stop anyone from entering by force if it was necessary. What she did notice was the tension however, the subtle changes in stance an expression from both Dulen himself and his fellow Merry Man of the Vine, Father Merlot. That alone was enough to communicate that there was trouble afoot, a suspicion that was soundly confirmed with Dulen's remark.

"These Athelaians are not a very intelligent sort, are they?" The Shi'el scoffed. "If it's trouble they want, I will gladly oblige."

Before she left, the other Merry Man pleaded not to be eaten, albeit with a smile on his face. At this, she simply chuckled. "I would have to be very starved to even consider it. Humans are not very tasty." She offered the man a wolfish grin, before heading towards the entrance to the temple. Her bare feet seemed to leave patches of flame on the ground as she walked, though they disappeared too quickly to cause a fire.

As she reached the temple door, Neferis noticed that the elves made no effort to conceal their intent: the elves all had their hands on their weapon, even if they hadn't drawn steel yet, and they glared at her as she approached. Her instincts warned her about the killing intent of these Athelaians, and it was plain to see that they had no intention of reasoning or even listening, but she resolved to make the attempt anyways.

It wouldn't look good if she started slaughtering without provocation.

"What is the meaning of this, elves?" The she-wolf demanded, her voice booming and authoritative. "My charge is in there and I will not have you or anyone else take over the only entrance to the temple." She warned them sternly, already prepared to fight. "That was not the truce."

[Absolon-7]

Claire Dione

In the Temple

Shit hits the fan

Rudolph Thorbecke

---

"Jeez, it was just a guess," said Rudolph to the fishfolk lady that had so curtly answered him before quietly muttering to himself, "You don't have to be as prickly as all those spines on you would suggest..."

Rudolph's apparent faux pas was furthered embittered one of the group's mages blasting his answer out of the water with a much more generous thousand and more years to the temple's age. He shrugged off and ignored the conversation the rest of the mages seemed to be wrapping themselves into and wandered the room to take a better look at the images on the wall. The writing as unfamiliar and so were many of the images which depicted apparently fiery creatures. At the behest of the leader of the Shotar knights he followed along to the next chamber through the golden double doors he had noticed earlier and the focal point of the room, a black stone with a hammer engorged in blue energy.

The situation in the dark room seemed to escalate as quick a bloated corpse zombie's explosion as frail looking crow thalari creating a barrier around the hammer was quickly followed by the Athelaian betraying the rest of the group. A tremendous shake in the chamber's wall prompted him to unsheathe his sword and bring out his heater shield. He slowly walked his way towards the front near Quentin and the two non-fighters raising his shield up.

"Since you look to be in charge I'd say to you that I have a single smokebomb with me," whispered Rudolph to Quentin, "Say the word and I'll make use of to distract their leader."

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Saelaam of Trelia

---

---

He had barely finished speaking to the expedition when another voice cut through the silence, belonging to the leader of the Athelaian envoys. Suddenly, Saelaam found himself forcefully pushed aside and sent to the ground by a heavily armored elven knight, and watched helplessly as the Athelaians surrounded the hammer on the altar, completely ignoring the barrier he had placed around it. It didn't take him long to figure out why - much like the others, the young crow realized that these were no ordinary knights, but Guardians of the Path of Light, who could use the mystical art of purification to destroy his barrier with the utmost ease. Their betrayal had clearly been a carefully planned one, with little left to fortune.

Scooting away from the elven warriors and closer to the Knights of Shotarr, Saelaam stood up from the ground, hastily dusting off his white robes, and then looked at the scene unfolding before his eyes. A strange rumbling had put everyone on edge, and soldiers of all factions were already beginning to draw their weapons. It was clear that the mission of keeping the peace had failed completely thanks to this betrayal, and a fight was about to break out.

Before that happened however, Sir Quentin turned to him and a young woman, instructing them to get out of there while they still could. Saelaam nodded at the Knight Commander - hopefully if he managed to get out he could warn the others about the betrayal of the Athelaians - and then looked at an elf who had lingered close to the entrance, no doubt with the goal of preventing anyone from leaving. A plan began to formulate within his head, and the young crow turned to look at Essie. "Follow me." He told the magician.

Then, with no warning whatsoever, he folded in his wings as much as he could, and dashed towards the exit as fast as he was able. The Guardian noticed, evidently, but the Chosen was prepared for that - he waited until the elf's blade had almost struck him before uttering a single word.

"Ergis."

Another translucent white barrier formed, this time right in the path of the elf's sword, which promptly bounced off, surprising and stunning the elven knight, who staggered back a few paces. It provided enough of an opening for him to slip by, as well as Essie if she so chose, and so Saelaam darted through the hallway, past the golden gate and into the orb room once more.

But he noticed there was something amiss. Whereas before one could see from the entrance sunlight streaming in, tempered by the forest's shade, now there was a shadow blocking it, and he spotted the glint of a solitary piece of golden armor.

More Athelaians. The entrance was blocked.

Damn it... Oadot, protect us...

Just then, he noticed a group of four strangers entering the orb chamber from a previously unknown passage. A smile flashed across the priest's face as he realized that there was another way out, but it was quickly snuffed out when he noticed that one of the people who had entered the temple was an Athelaian, as evidenced by her armor. She had pale skin, striking white hair and fair features - in other circumstances he might have thought of her as beautiful. But at the moment she was but an enemy, a traitor, and a scowl appeared on Saelaam's face as his hand moved towards the knife in his belt. He would be hard pressed to defeat a trained warrior when he knew next to nothing about combat, but if this woman knew the art of purification too, then it would be the only thing he could rely on.

"Be careful!" He shouted to the three others - two, actually, as he soon noticed one of them was just an animated golem. "She's an enemy, the Athelaians have betrayed us!"

[Ceystile]

Essie was waiting to see what Sir Quentin had to say, when all of a sudden the elves of the Athelaian delegation that had been traveling with them started to ambush them, revealing their weapons and demanding the hammer. "Traitorous fucks, I think not!" she shouted, going for her staff when all of a sudden she was told by Sir Quentin to get to safety as quickly as she could. Before she could speak, a crow-Thalari...she believed he had been referred to as Saelamm by someone in the party gestured for her to follow him, leaving a gap behind him to follow as he seemingly made his own escape through the newly formed hole in the temple's wall. "Thanks." she told him, but made no effort to move. "But I can't just leave...I have to stay here and help."

"I think it's in your best interest if you get out of here." Vissra's hand went to her belt, unclipping a round glass bottle that swirled and shimmered with some kind of red-orange liquid. Essie had read up enough on Alchemy to know what that was. "Liquid fire." she whispered.
"Maybe, maybe not. But you need to get away from here as far as possible, this is going to get ugly." the older woman warned again.
"I'm aware of that! I was aware of that when I went on this mission, I'm not going to leave and watch everyone else get killed."
"You're a kid!"
"Legal age! Again, I'm not leaving. Thank you for your concern and all, but I don't run. End of story."
"Well, your choice I guess." Essie began muttering some type of incantation and Vissra started to shake the bottle in her palm to activate the ingredients.

[North Timeria]

“Good evening Mr. Nerena. Welcome to the Ashbrook Estate.” A servant politely showed Aymeri inside. Once he arrived he was quickly greeted by Mr. Ashbrook.

“Aymeri! Wonderful, I’m glad that you could come this evening.” Mr. Ashbrook spoke Aymeri’s hand and led him outback. “Aymeri I want you to meet my partners. These are very influential and rich men but I’m sure that you can make a good impression.”

The house was much larger than Aymeri’s and there were a number of servants tending to the house. As they stepped out back there were a number of people gathered around. Mr. Ashbrook’s partners stood out the most. They were well dressed and all had stoic faces. They sat down watching boys around Aymeri’s age practice with bows.

“Aymeri I would like you to meet Mr. Cromwell, Mr. Fulbert, and Sir Hutch Vint.” Aymeri shook each of their hands as Mr. Ashbrook introduced them.

“So you’re the famous Aymeri. I want to personally thank you for that job in Tashar, I heard that you were seriously injured trying to deliver our cargo.” Sir Hutch made a point to thank Aymeri.

“No problem sir, I was patched up nicely.” Aymeri responded.

Aymeri joined them and made small talk before they moved onto business. They all had fought in the army before settling in Halsha. Aymeri asked them of his brother and they were all familiar with him. Apparently his brother had been modest when telling him stories of his short-lived career as a soldier.

Eventually, they moved onto more important topics. Mr. Ashbrook wanted Aymeri to travel southeast to an unknown temple. The temple was reportedly never looted and filled with valuable artifacts. If Aymeri was able to deliver a few to the group there would be a large commission.

“Sorry to interrupt father but would you mind if I borrowed Aymeri for a while. I’d like him to escort me around the garden.” Ariana spoke gracefully but assertive.

“Of course… Aymeri we’ll chat after diner.”

Aymeri knew once in the garden he would be grilled. Ariana hated being the last to know when Aymeri was home.

“Why am I always the last to know when the great adventure Aymeri has arrived home?” Ariana said frustrated. Her face had turned red and frustrated.

“I’m sorry. I just got back last night.” Aymeri replied.

“Well you always have an excuse, don’t you.” Ariana replied still not convinced. The two walked through the garden catching up a bit. “So when are you leaving again?” Ariana eventually asked. “I hoped you wouldn’t ask me this.” Aymeri replied as he turned his attention elsewhere. After a few seconds of silence from both of them, Aymeri answered. “Tomorrow.”

“Are you serious?” Ariana’s face had turned an even brighter red and the frustration in her face was clear. She quickly walked away and left Aymeri alone.

Next Morning

Aymeri was loading up when his brother walked outside. “You headed out?”


“Yea gotta hurry before the weather changes.” Aymeri replied as he loaded his bags. “I’m not trying to spend too much time with this job.” Aymeri felt a bit uneasy about this but he accepted it anyway.

“I love you brother.” Kaden replied, shocking Aymeri. “I love you too… Hopefully, I’m back home soon.” As Aymeri prepared to ride off his brother said something that stuck with him.

“If you really love something and it’s taken away from you… that pain will never truly go away.”

[Tomia]

Quentin
All around Quentin people were preparing themselves for battle. "Wait stop!" He said to not only his fellow knights but everyone else around him. "If we do this, it starts a war between all our nations. I will not allow this!"

"I'm afraid these elvish traitors have already started the war, Knight Commander." Grand Enchanter Fiona said as her blade ignited with fire. "And I intend to ensure they are the first casualties of it." The entire Tashar delegation raised their weapons, preparing for battle. The Eshoni did the same and looked on menacingly.

"This artifact is ours!" Shouted Sabrina from the Dascus side, staffs were raised and spells were prepared.

"The Light shall purge the unworthy!" Shouted the Athelaian commander

Chtholes take them all. Quentin gritted his teeth. If they wanted war, then none of his men would die for their foolish greed and petty rivalries. "Knights! Protect the hammer, no one leaves with it." He shouted, before turning to Rudolph. "Do it." He said more softly to him.

Rudolph nodded confirming his answer without a word. He swung his sheild back onto his back and undid a strap on a belt pouch to procure his smoke bomb. The slayer then sheathed his sword to take a few steps back and with his enchanted armor powering up his reflexes the young man reached back before hurling the smoke bomb with his full might to strike the Athelaian commander on the chest which would explode into a giant cloud of smoke large enough to shroud all the elves vision.

"Heathens! Kill them all!" shouted the elvish leader. "His soldiers blindly charged forward against their enemies, soldiers and civilians alike. The smoke filled the room, and chaos truly began to reign. The sounds of cracking light filled the air, as did the heat of fire and a blinding pure light. Battle was upon them.

Quentin charged forward towards the hammer, as he saw fighting all round him. Rudolph had distracted the elves and took away their immediate advantage of surprise yet it was clear that the other factions were not nearly as ready for a fight. He saw an older Dascan mage dead at his feet, a knife planted in his eye. The man had likely never seen combat before in his life.Poor Bastard Quentin thought as he moved past him. He was cut off from the hammer by a Dascian mage whose both hands frosted over.

"That doesn't belong to you." The mage told Quentin as he stared him down.

"It sure as shit doesn't belong to you either." The knight replied, raising his sword which sparked with electricity. A moment later lightening slammed into ice at the center of the chamber. Bits of ice flew everywhere as the standoff continued. Quentin's sword began to strain under the continued attack and his stream of lightening became more and more difficult to hold to the point where he was visibly struggling.

This is not the end. I'll die on a great battlefield, not some ancient shit hole. I swear to Shotarr, I do not die this day.

He waved his sword upward with all his strength, sending the ice flying and throwing the mage off guard. Quentin used this to his advantage and swung his massive blade, cleaving off his foes arm. He now stood over the defeated mage, plunging his sword into his chest as a mercy.

Bring death so others have life. Know war, so others may learn peace.

He staggered forward as he approached the hammer, but it was clear he wasn't the only one after it. He found himself surrounded on all sides by foes, and clearly in need of help.

Fear not death, fear a life not spent in the service of others.

Brialya
Brialya watched as some kind of knight approached them, yelling at her for not being interesting enough. I have no time for these idiots. She thought to herself in frustration. Soon however a beastfolk with wings approached them, and stared daggers at her from inside the now open temple. He accused her of being a threat and said that the elves had broken the peace. Her eyes went wide as she realized the implications.

Shit

"Hey! No you have the wrong idea here. I don't know what happened down there but I'm not involved. I'm a freelander, I'm not even Athelaian." She said to him. She was outnumbered, and that Golem didn't look like a pushover. She didn't reach for her weapons, instead put her hands in the air. She was ready to use her ability if she needed to but for now she would try to talk her way out of it. "I'm not looking for a fight believe me. But it sounds like whatever is going on down there needs our attention. So we can stand here poking fingers, or we can try to stop the Athelaians from starting a war."

Dulen
Dulen followed along with Neferis, he wasn't much in the mood to be alone among angry soldiers after all. "Come on Festus, best for us to stick with the big warriors." He said as he headed toward the temple, standing behind Neffy as she spoke the elves.

"Move away she wolf, your charge is no longer your concern. Consider yourself unemployed." The lead elf told her. Others were gathering now, clearly holding similar sentiments as they shouted curses at the elves. Suddenly blasts and sounds of fighting could be heard below and the elves immediately drew their weapons. Archers aimed arrows and the warriors held their shields in a tight row, their swords and spears at the ready.

"No one is to approach! This temple is now property of Athela! Disperse, lay down your weapons, or die, those are your options." He said, none of the elves moved, but they were ready for the inevitable battle that was to come.

[The Republic of Atria]

Lud

As he was conversing with the wolf lady, lion-man, and dwarf, he caught out of the corner of his eye a bunch of highly aggressive elves who immediately pushed themselves to the entrance in a way that he considered to be quite rude. Normally he'd just dismiss this, but they made it clear that they intended to kill anyone who tried to enter the temple, and he could hear something going on inside the temple. He put his hands up to his chest and backed away. "Relax... I'm not here to make trouble..." Nope. If someone was going to start a fight, it wasn't going to be him.

Instead, he opted to turn around and go talk to one of the men who hired him. "Hey, boss," Lud spoke. "There's a bunch of Elves claiming the temple and threatening anyone who goes near it. I'm also pretty sure they're doing something inside."

The captain looked at him and over to the group of elves and sighed. "Well? What're you just standing there for? You're a whole head taller and have fifty pounds on any one of them at least. If they won't move on their own, you move them."

"Here's the thing, and I mean no disrespect when I say this. You hired me to deal with bandits, drunkards, and whatnot. Those elves look like well-trained soldiers." Lud explained. "And I'm not starting a fight that could quickly devolve into something much worse. I don't want my name in the annals of history because I started a war between the humans and the elves over a dusty vase or a hammer or whatever's in there."

The captain grumbled for a moment and sighed, seeing Lud's point. "Alright. Come with me. If one of them gets within five feet of me, you are to snap it in half. Understand?"

Lud's expression changed from confident that he had avoided conflict and starting something bad to being roped into aggressive bodyguard duty, to fear that he might be exposed. He voice gave no indication to his reluctance as he spoke. "More than happy to protect you. Never started a fight. More than happy to end them."

"Good."

Oh Gods what the hell am I doing...

[Theyra]

Ivaran Miaris

This is a surprising turn, Ivaran thought as the events unfold before him. He was not told that they would betray the others like this. Seizing whatever is in that damnable temple and seemly start a war over this. Ivaran felt conflicted, he did not come here to start a fight, much less a war. Ivaran was on the assumption of a peaceful intent with the nature of this temple. Why does his kin care so much about this temple and whatever is inside? Is whatever inside that valuable? Maybe they did not bother to tell him thinking that he would go along with it. Which would not be unreasonable since he is a Guardian after all and why would he go against his country. It would be in his nature to side with his fellow Athelaians and fight off the others. Though would it feel right to do so? That question came up in his mind.

Ivaran visibly gritted his's teeth and his grip on his glaive tighten. He was not in a battle-ready stance yet just watching what the other non-Athelaians will do. Taking a step back where he stood and was not near where the other Athelaians were. Keeping his eyes firmly on the crowd, and waited for that spark to ignite. The spark that will start this fight and would only attack those that moved towards him. He does not like this one bit, but, he will fight if only to defend himself. Even if his kin does not like it. Either way, he will find out what his kin are after and see if whatever it is worthy of war and this betrayal of trust.

[Finland SSR]

Gwendolyn Sirrade

Saelaam of Trelia

Brialya

Syn of Ashar

---

"Okay, first of all, the only waste of time in this entire conversation is you, miss..." Syn immediately shot back at the white-haired knight, growing just as irritated as her. Perhaps he should be relieved that this is how the rest of the party reacts to him wandering off, but he wouldn't even mind an arrest over some lady knight yelling at him for being boring... "And second of all... don't you come here and steal my idea for yourself. I'm going in first."

Scoffing under his breath and turning around, Syn followed after his creation into the corridors of the temple. He did not get to venture off far or even light up a torch, because suddenly, he ended up interrupted by a yet another intruder, this time from inside the table. A beastfolk taking after birds, running frantically through the corridors of the temple to catch up to them, only to stop, get ready to draw a dagger, and yell that the elvish woman was their enemy.

Huh, what?

Confused, Syn turned towards the elf, who broke into a panic, raised her hands, and began to explain herself. According to her, she had no hand at what was going on - whatever was going on - and was not even Athelaian in the first place. Alright, so now Syn had to wrap his head around her being an infiltrator in the Athelaian ranks, too.

Turning from the elf, to the beastfolk, and back, the runesmith raised his hands towards both and yelled back:

"Both of you, calm down!"

After taking a breath, Syn continued. "Could we all take a moment and get everyone else up to speed? Because I'm honestly lost and I'd rather get a clear picture of what's happening first. You, Ar'el, what happened down there in the temple? You, uh... Freelander, what do you mean about the Athelaians starting a war? What are they planning?"

[Ceystile]

Vissra saw the Athelaians immediately begin to go for the hammer, the Dascian knights putting up a valiant effort to protect it. Why was this happening?! Were they all not supposed to be allies, why did the elves betray them? And what did they want with the hammer so badly that they were willing to risk a continent-wide war? As important as these questions were, there was little time to focus at the moment because turning to the commotion to her left, Sir Quentin was clearly in trouble and besieged...the elves were thick around him and Vissra let the liquid fire fly from her hand, giving a satisfied smile under her mask as it landed square on one of their robes. With how close they were to one another, they’d all go up like a tinderbox if they didn’t disperse.

“You sure that was the best idea? We’re in kind of a small space, y’know.” Essie chimed in, clocking a few of the Athelaians closest to her with her staff. “What if we all burn?”
“Sir Quentin and the knights are wearing armor, they should be fine. Those cloth robes though? Quite flammable from what I’ve heard.” Essie said nothing after that, a blue light glowing in her hand as a bolt of lightning shot from it and hit another enemy. “It’d be even worse had I used acid, fire can take out multiples at one time.” Vissra readied another potion to be thrown, focusing on clearing the area near the knights and the hammer. “I’m not much of a fighter, mind helping me out?”
“Glad to, just as soon as I’m not in danger of dying myself.”
“I like you, kid.”

A tall man, one who towered over both ladies was nearby, holding off an attacker with a pole-weapon...some odd combination between spear and ax from what Essie could see. Managing to subdue them, he walked toward them where the fighting seemed to be thickest around the heavily armored warriors. "Looks like you all could use a hand."
"Yeah, thanks...we appreciate that." Vissra looked up at the man, tall and dark-skinned he could just pass for an unusually tall human...but the pair of horns sticking out through his near-unnaturally red hair and those odd yellow green eyes especially gave him away as some sort of beastfolk. Slit pupils. Like a snake's. "I didn't see you earlier. You seem like a pretty impossible guy to miss, even in this assorted crowd that we have going on."
"I prefer to keep quiet and to the back unless I have to, seems like a good thing I did."
"Not really the time to chat, Mr. Big Guy. We have a bit of an elvish problem to take care of."
"Call me Firethroat, and yes, I do agree we have bigger fish to barbecue right now."
"We need to help Sir Quentin, let's focus on doing that." Essie blasted a small spell-bolt into the crowd of Athelaians around Quentin and the hammer while Firethroat readied his halberd in order to deal with any enemies that might charge toward them.

[Zjaum]

Ylva Pathmaykr

Krook Tolasthes

"Move away she wolf, your charge is no longer your concern. Consider yourself unemployed." The lead elf told her. Others were gathering now, clearly holding similar sentiments as they shouted curses at the elves. Suddenly blasts and sounds of fighting could be heard below and the elves immediately drew their weapons. Archers aimed arrows and the warriors held their shields in a tight row, their swords and spears at the ready.

"No one is to approach! This temple is now property of Athela! Disperse, lay down your weapons, or die, those are your options." He said, none of the elves moved, but they were ready for the inevitable battle that was to come.

Werakoya groaned loudly. She was there to figure out booby traps and remove them. No one had told her anything about combat; if they had, she wouldn't have taken the job. She was strong, sure, but strength alone was a poor substitute for skill with a weapon. Granted, apparently nothing was said to anyone about combat. Hence, the kerfuffle before them. Still, she wanted to sit in peace. She'd spent hours today, and days total, traveling across Dascus, just to be here. She was with friends, and good food, and a comfortable (albeit wet) patch of grass. This was practically optimal, and she wanted to enjoy it for just a little more.

The Goliath stood up. She tried to dust the turf off her seat, but the wetness of it all merely resulted in her hands getting covered in grass blades. Oh well; some things can't be helped. She was at the back of the crowd, and she was usually quiet, but hopefully she'll be loud enough for the Athelaians to hear. She cupped her hands and welled up the strength of her diaphragm. "Hey, you! Good Athelaian commander! We appreciate your display of force, but some of us are trying to eat and talk together! Would you mind waiting an hour for us to finish? Also, do I have to give up my crowbar? I don't have any martial skill with it, and it's a very useful tool! That is all; thank you very much!"

She sat back down and returned to her usual quietness. "You know, I would appreciate a second piece of buck meat. May I have another?"

[Segral]

Claire Dione

The Knight Commander was intent on smothering the fire between nations, but could not possibly hope to put out a wildfire with a blanket. These Athelaians had come for war, and they would receive a thousand times over. Did they have no shame, no pride, no honor? It was a cowardly enough to bear armor and sword against a group of old Dascian mages who had likely never even held a knife, but to play the friend, act the ally, and then drive sword between the shoulder blades? It was beyond low, a place not worthy of Eboris' surface, the underground dwarven cities of old, or the deepest trenches of Antora's waters. No, it was a place worthy of the hellish pits of demons, and if all went well tonight, their souls would rest there, where they truly belonged.

The Light shall purge the unworthy? The only thing being purged was filth. Elven filth.

Beside her, a man clad in black armor stepped back, reaching for his belt. A brief twitch ran through Claire's well-trained hands, the slightest possibility of him being a traitor reaching for his dagger running through the edges of her wit. Her restraint proved critical though; the man extracted not a dagger, but what appeared to be a bomb of smoke, one that he threw squarely into the Athelaians chest with deadly accuracy. It was comedic, but Claire did not truly know if it was a wise maneuver; while the smoke kept the elves' vision clouded, it soon spread across the chamber, enveloping both groups in an acrid, black cloud. A human or elf could've easily seen through the smog, perhaps with some water pooling in their eyes or some hacking in their chests, but in a dark cloud, Claire was prone to losing more than just her comfort. As the light from the hammer and the barrier surrounding it was slowly blotted out, so was Claire's vision, clouding over to become as night-black as the wall she had seen at the back of the chamber, a wall she could no longer point out, because for all she knew, the wall was north, south, east, west, the ceiling, the floor, and everything in between! Her eyes were not built for seeing the darkened, cold wastes of the deep sea, they were built for the sun-drenched coasts that Zhoria was founded upon. In the dark, her vision was robbed, and so was her skill in battle. She needed to move to the back of the chamber, where the smoke was thin and the crowds were thinner, but between the pitch-blackness and the disorienting sounds of blade, bone, and magic, the back of the chamber may as well have been the front. She stumbled to and fro, in a loose-footed, slack dance, her hands gripping her trident tightly but unsure of what to use that trident for.

Suddenly, to her left, a bolt of fire lit up in a mage's hand, illuminating the space in front of her. Or maybe it was a torch. She did not know, and did not care, for her sight was briefly returned to her, and it would only linger for a few seconds. She took a precious moment to blink the smog out of her eyes, and then with a few flicks of her eyes, she took in her surroundings. She was facing the golden double doors she had came from, with the hammer and its barrier at her back. On her left was a battle between two mages, and on the right...a sword, swinging down directly at her shoulder.

With a yelp, Claire quickly sidestepped, narrowly saving her entire arm from being cleaved off at the hands of this elven butcher. The fiery light had died away, perhaps from the death of the mage who had summoned it, but Claire no longer needed it. Gracefully, she twirled her trident in her hands, flipping it around and pressing it to her arm so that the prongs pointed to her heart and the end of the shaft pointed out. A simple push of her elbows thrust the shaft forward in the general direction of her assailant, a crack and horse's groan confirming that she had struck her target.

"COME AT ME, DOG!" she roared tauntingly, shuffling and galloping back while eeping the staff extended, a baited lure to catch her elven pray. It was a technique that the Anglerfish women of Zhoria had developed, using shiny blades and teasing tips as a way to goad the enemy. And it worked, especially for warriors such as these, who were strong of machismo and muscle, but weak of wit and will. The soreness in her legs was gone; she had no time to think about her pain, only time to think of the pain she would inflict upon others. Such was war.

Soon, her her body broke clear of the thick smoke, causing her to cough slightly as she gratefully gulped cooler, cleaner air, eyes slowly adjusting to the dim presence of light. Her vision was blurry around the edges, like a Merry Man who has spent too much time in the sun, but it was better than. Soon, an elf broke out as well, one of much greater height than her, but in all likelihood, half the skill in battle. Perhaps even less. He was garbed in traditional Athelaian armor, with a traditional Athelaian sword and shield, and soon, he would gushing Athelaian blood from his neck. She circled around the barrier that the crow boy had created, her trident held aloft as she pulled the elf farther and farther away from his comrades.

"Do you intend to fight me like a Mu'el, or will courage lift your blade for you?" Claire snarled, baring her teeth into a sharp-toothed grin.

"Courage does not need to lift my blade, and you will be dead before you realize it, Zhorian." the elven man growled back, his sword now high and ready in his palms.

"Joust me then, villain!" Claire responded, before lunging forward with the her trident. It was nothing if not bone, but it was painted to imitate gold, and it made a sound like gold as it clanged against the elf's shield. The two remained in a tight struggle for several seconds, pushing back and forth, before Claire jerked her trident to the left to pull it loose. The sudden motion caught the elf off-guard, and forced him to parry the trident with the flat of his sword, swiping and clacking in a futile attempt to push Claire back. His feet were unsteady, and despite Claire's misty vision, she could forecast the ending of this battle with perfect clarity. The elven man took a false swipe, his sword slipping cleanly in between the prongs of Claire's trident. With a jerk back and an aggressive twist, the man's sword arm buckled down and contorted itself into an awkward figure, forcing his head and shoulders to the ground in a standing position. Surprisingly, his grip on the sword stayed steady, but it would be of no help to him. A vicious kick from Claire struck his chin, knocking him off-balance and sending him sprawling hard on his back. The impact was so strong that it knocked off the man's helmet and sent it skidding across the battlefield, revealing a baby-cheeked, pointy-eared beast with a mane of long, snow-white hair and an unsightly mouth, hanging open in an eternal gape. An ugly sight.

Claire smirked at the fallen warrior, who had gone still, his eyes only giving the slightest of flutters beyond their thin drapes. "Perhaps your sister, or your wife could've provided me with better adversity." she said coolly, her own eyes shifting away from the warrior as she surveyed the muggy, hazy scene in front of her. A grave mistake.

She felt a hard boot's heel slam into her bare shin, causing her to stumble back. Her eyes immediately shifted down, only to see the warrior's sword-bearing hand give a jab at the shin he just so callously bruised, drawing a thin line of blood as he sliced her leg open. "Shit..." she groaned as she leapt back, fumbling to collect her trident in her hands as the elven man got to his feet, clearly amused by Claire's taunts. He aimed another swipe at Claire's midriff, which she clumsily poked away. Then another swipe at her thigh, which she barely managed to sidestep. And then another. And then another. She felt herself being pushed farther and farther back towards the carved wall at the back of the chamber, and while her eyes became clearer and clearer with every step, her doom became clearer along with. She needed to act soon, this was the time for measures of desperation.

She shifted one hand away from its position midway on the shaft of the trident, sliding it to a position just underneath the prongs and lifting the trident aloft like a piece of lumber, or a goliath's crowbar. The elf's blade struck squarely in the middle of the staff, causing the bone to bend slightly, but hold firm. It was stalled, which gave Claire plenty of time to open her last defense. Silently, the red, shimmering spines that were once folded against her back bent away and extended to the sides, five spines on her back and five spines at her hip. They stood stiff, ready to make a plunge, but the elf moved faster, quickly slipping his blade underneath the trident and making a swipe for her waist. She managed to shift out of the way, but the spines on her back failed to follow, and were slashed right through as if they were made of butter.

Claire roared in pain, stumbling back up against the wall with one hand instinctively clutching her side. Only parts of the spines had been torn, so the bleeding was restricted to a pale, weak flow. But the pain still ripped through her body, her back and spines burning so badly that their opposite, water, collected in the corners of her eyes. She had been holding back, becoming arrogant in the battlefield. Imagine if Victoire could see her now, the smirk and cold look in her eyes as she watched Claire writhe and struggle. Imagine General Iena's! No, she couldn't let this pass. The shields were now coming down.

The elf had caught up, and had begun to swing second time, aiming for a direct stab through her stomach, but Claire was quicker. She twisted her trident down, the metal sword clashing hard against the thick bone. The sword was once again stalled, which gave enough time for Claire to step forward in a perfect lunge, her undamaged spines flaring out to the right and moving forward. Two spines drove fast into the elf's exposed neck, causing him to yell out in pain. He seemed to forget about the sword in his hands, dropping it as he moved to uselessly scrabble at his neck. If he had held onto it, he might've survived.

With a push back and a thrust forward, Claire's trident lodged itself straight into the elven man's neck. He seemed almost shocked, limply attempting to grasp the trident as his knees gave way, chest began to slow, mouth began to gape open. "I told your commander earlier that I would paint these carvings over with your blood." Claire said simply, before ripping both her spines and her trident out at once and leaving a fountain of blood behind as the man continued to grasp weakly at his own neck. Blood seeped through his fingers and dripped across his armor, and soon, dripped across the floor. With a grunt, Claire reached forward and grabbed his shoulder, pushing the man behind her in a shove that threw him against the black wall, the wall of death. He collapsed as soon as he bounced off, his knees giving way and causing him slump face-first against the stone. A large smear of blood was left on the wall, marking over whatever carving had previously been in its place. "I stay true to my words. Which is more than your nation and your people can say." she said in a curt, polite tone. And so the battle ended.

With a heavy sigh, she turned back to view the raging battle, still roaring behind the ever-advancing cloud of smoke. The battle had felt like an eternity, but really, it had been a fleeting clash, a brief one. The fight for the hammer was crowded, with Athelaians by the two picking off every one Tasharn, Dascian, or Eshoni that reached the hammer and its silvery barrier. Claire desperately wanted to bound back into the fight, help protect the hammer, but it was not ideal. The smoke would obscure her vision, and she would fall victim to a stab, slash, or strike of magika to the helm. She had already taken enough of those. Looking down, she grimaced as she surveyed the two spines that had been split open by the elf's blade, as well as the large gash across her leg. The middle prong of her trident had broken, the small bones poking out in every direction. But she was still alive, and she had another weapon, and had no shortage of small blessings to be grateful for.

The pike strapped to her back was still perfectly intact, long of fortitude and sharp as an eagle's beak. No use for the trident now. With a dismissive flick, she cast off the trident, and slipped the pike from its loose straps, letting the weapon fold into her arms. And with a new rush of valor, she dashed forward, pike aloft. She kept away from the smoke, jabbing at elves that attempted to forge their way to the hammer. The smoke dimmed her vision, but kept it ever so present, the images not quite so fleeting enough to dash away. It was not much, but it was the best she could do, and it was all she would stand for. She was Claire Dione of the Zhoria, and if she did not die on her feet, there was no use in dying at all.

[Tomia]

Brialya
"If I knew that I wouldn't be here." Brialya told Syn in response to his question. "I'm here to figure that out. All I know is most of these soldiers are not ordinary Guardians. That's all I can tell you, because no offense I'm not about to totally trust strangers I just met. But we have a common enemy right now, and whatever is down there I don't want the Athelaians getting their hands on it." She told them. This was an unlikely group of people to be working with but she didn't have a choice. She turned to Syn, "You control this creature? It won't go rogue will it. I don't desire to have to fight it. And you, beastfolk, you don't look like much of fighter, you might be better off staying back here. Golem boy, the knight here, and I will go ahead to see what is happening." She told Sael. She didn't like being accused of being a traitor, but she didn't want to see him get hurt either. He didn't seem like a bad person after all. In fact, she had to admit he was kind of cute. Those thoughts of course were irrelevant right now, what mattered was getting inside and figuring out what these Athelaians were up to. This was her best chance to find Purity and she couldn't give that up for anything. Now it was no longer just about vengeance, clearly Purity was a menace that needed to be filled with arrows.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Saelaam of Trelia

---

---

---

The next few moments were very tense for the Chosen as he warily eyed the Athelaian. She seemed to pause for a moment before reacting to his accusations, putting her hands in the air. At first, he wasn't too surprised - she didn't immediately turn on her companions like he had expected after seeing the Athelaians further inside do exactly that, but the way she denied being involved with any of it made plenty of sense if she was waiting to get to where her comrades were, or if she wanted them to lower their guard before striking. However, what she said afterwards, that she was a Freelander, and that she wanted to stop the Athelaians from causing a war, were confusing enough to give him pause.

It's a bit too late to stop a war now. The young man thought bitterly as he listened to the sound of steel clashing against steel coming from deeper within the temple, as well as the steadily growing commotion outside. He turned to the man who seemed to be in control of the towering metal golem that stood beside him and the white-haired knight. Judging by his words he didn't seem to be taking the threat of the elves too seriously, and simply asked to know what was going on, as if the sounds of battle further inside weren't clear enough.

The supposed Freelander in Athelaian armor continued afterwards, stating that she was here with the intention of finding out the Athelaians' plans and that they were her enemies just as they were his. She didn't want them to get their hands on the hammer, that was something he could agree with.

"You don't have to go in to find out what is happening, I think the sounds speak for themselves." The young crow pointed out, his hand at last drifting away from the knife on his belt. "The Athelaians turned on everyone else. The Dascians, the Enchanters and the Knights of Shotarr are fighting them and trying to protect the hammer as we speak, but I don't think their odds are great - their priests were no researchers, they were purifiers from the Path of Light." He explained to Syn and the others, before looking at Brialya. "I'll come with you. I'm no fighter, it's true, but my odds aren't much better staying here or trying to leave, and there are other ways I can help."

With that, Saelaam waited for the others to go on ahead so he could follow them from a safe distance. He had wanted to warn the others of the Athelaians' deceit, but from the commotion that could be heard outside it was evident that the other camps had found out about it on their own already, and he didn't want to leave the Knights of Shotarr further inside to their fate. He stole a last glance at the elf woman as he waited. Besides...

I still don't trust you.

[Awesomeland012345]

Tarkin Oskrato

Tarkin was having a bad day. He had joined this expedition to steal - ahem, not steal, to acquire some alchemy books as part of his payment. Some knights were entering the temple, and he decided to ask if he could accompany them. He spotted the knight at the front of the line and started toward him.

"Uh, hello sir, I think that if I enter the temple with you, I could be of some assistance." he stated.

"Ha! You? We don't need you. You're not a high and mighty warrior like me. All you'll do is get into our way and annoy us. 'Oh, I'm an alchemist. I can use potions!' Yeah, we already have an alchemist." the knight said dismissively. "Now go away. Shoo!"

"I... what?" exclaimed Tarkin. "But..." The captain wasn't even paying attention anymore. The idiot. Why couldn't he go in? That was the whole reason he came. And now, he couldn't even ask! All they knight marched into the temple, and some guards were posted at the entrance. If he couldn't enter the temple, then, he reasoned, he would go and eat. He hadn't eaten in a few days, due to the fact that he could whip up some potions that relieved his hunger. He had gotten that recipe from the alchemy book that the thief had taken from this very temple.

He decided that, since they had just gotten to the temple, that he would be able to enter soon and that he'd have to leave his nice, fresh food on the ground for the bugs.

"Ugh. Another potion." He grumbled. Drinking the potion, he scanned the crowd to see who was hired. There were dwarves, mages, warriors, beasts, goliaths, blah blah blah. What mattered was that there were a whole range of people there. He had seen most of the different species on his travels, but never all in one place. It was an impressive sight. He then scanned the temple, which looked pretty old and was crumbling. It looked like it would collapse at any minute.

"Wonder if anyone will get squashed when a rock falls and smashes them on the head." It then occurred to him that the temple was older than he thought. How would his book have survived for that long...?

"The dirty thief." He had lied! The book hadn't come from here. But still, he still might be able to get some cool loot though.

"Sigh." This was boring. He would take a nap, and then when he got a chance to enter the temple, he'd wake up. Looking around, he found a familiar tree. The Redbarked Longwood. It's bark and leaves were the base ingredient in many potions. Because of the amount he already had, Tarkin decided to leave the tree be. He settled beneath it, laying comfortably in his spot.

Something was wrong. He sensed it immediately when he woke up. There were Athelian warriors at the entrance of the temple, waving their weapons to keep people away. From his vantage point below the tree, he also thought something was different with the temple. There! Why was there a brand-new hole in the wall? And how would someone have even made that hole? Tarkin decided to investigate. He casually walked over, and looked around. No one saw him, so he quickly climbed into the hole.

The first thing he heard was noises of battle. The second thing he heard was someone arguing and trying to keep quiet but not succeeding. He peered around the corner. There were a few small outlines. They didn't seem to be hostile. They were just standing there, arguing in hushed whispers. Tarkin would probably not be hurt by these outlines.

"Hello?"

[Segral]

Krook Tolasthes

Squishies...heh, that was quite funny. Humans and elves were very squishy indeed, especially humans. Krook didn't enjoy hurting others, but sometimes, when human expeditions wouldn't leave the forest, it was his duty to throw them out by claw. He would pick them up by the legs, whirl them around in a big circle, and send them flying through the trees, being very careful to throw them on their backs or bellies so that they did not snap their little necks. After getting thrown that far, the squishies always got to running. But had never thrown an elf before. They were much bigger than humans, and were a lot skinnier too. They were probably much less squishy. Although, Ylva had said "a few" of the other races, so it might not just be humans and elves. Maybe other Thalari were beastfolk, like thal'kal. They looked like humans, so they must be squishy as well. He couldn't be very squishy, he was even bigger than most goliaths, their fists and clubs would just bounce off of his scales!

Krook looked down into the bag after Werakoya took a strip for herself, counting the pieces that were left over. There were six, which meant two for dinner, and four for supper. Supper was always the most important, you couldn't go to sleep on an empty stomach. There was also the greens and mushrooms, but those would barely keep him fed. He could probably get through the day with some of the extra deer blood and a big drink at the river, but he would need to hunt again for more food. Maybe there would be more tasty deer nearby. Or a nice, fat wild boar. Or a buffalo!

His thoughts were ready to escape on a long hunting trip, one full of broad, colorful fish and meaty birds, savory monkeys and crunchy pangolins, until Werakoya asked the group a question, something about...weapons. Whether he was raised on the bow, or chose it. Krook opened his maw to respond, only to see the shorter goliath woman suddenly stand up and walk towards the temple's entrance. What for? Krook was sitting at the back of the crowd, and despite his height, he could not see past the thick bunches of people. Nor could he hear over the distant echoes of blasts and crashes, and the sound of the entire crowd breaking into restless murmurs.

Werakoya cupped her hands and yelled something that Krook could hear very clearly, and wholeheartedly agreed with. This was a peaceful expedition and partnership between nations, but according to Werakoya, they were showing off their power, their weapons and magic? It made no sense. What was the point? He would much rather eat and talk with his new friends. Especially because they were asking him to...give up his bow? No, he couldn't do that! This was a special gift, his father had given it to him for his 16th birthday. He couldn't use another bow, they were all too small and snapped under pressure. This was all he had. Hopefully, this was some practical joke, or maybe some exhibition fight between processions.

Werakoya sat down beside Krook and Ylva afterwards, plopping back down the grass and asking for another piece of buck. "Of course!" Krook said cheerfully, offering the bag towards the goliath woman. It was one less piece for lunch, but if he really needed it, he could always catch some small things. Right now, he had other issues to be dealt with, such as his bow. "Ummm...what is everyone doing at the temple's entrance?" Krook casually asked, his voice serious for the first time that conversation. "Are people getting ready to...fight?"

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Neferis Lahari

---

Neferis scowled, a deep growl emerging from her throat. This lowly elf dared dismiss her just like that, as if she were nothing but a vulgar mercenary? As if she were not the Second Daughter of Amarkar, child of Vannagar and sister of the Wolf-King, as if she was not the one who terrorized the armies of Treodor on the Sea of Dunes. These ignorant men knew not the respect they owed to royalty, especially the royalty of those who were their betters. They believed that they could sever the contract that bound her honor just because of their greed and their pride and their dogma.

They dared to threaten her, ordering her to stand down or die, letting her see how certain they were that they could kill her.

They were wrong. They were making their last mistake.

Neferis sighed raised her hands slowly. "I have no weapons, see?" She told the Athelaian closest to her, who stood there unmoving with his shield in position and his spear at the ready. Before he could react or even realize, her hand shot towards that spear and grabbed it, violently yanking it away, and him with it. The man was clearly a well-trained soldier and reacted quickly, drawing his sword and taking a swing at Neferis, but the she-wolf simply brought her hand up and grabbed the elf's hand before the sword could make contact with her flesh. With her free hand, she grabbed the elf by the helmet and lifted him off the ground. Said hand suddenly became engulfed in flames, enveloping the Guardian' head, and almost immediately he started screaming in pain. The archers loosed their arrows upon Neferis, but the most simply crashed against their comrade's plates and the least only managed to graze her skin.

The elf agonized for several moments before suddenly falling silent, his body going limp. The she-wolf then threw his burned remains back at the rest of the elven phalanx, glaring at them as if daring them to make a move against her after what she had shown them.

"When your charred souls find their way to your maker, tell him that Neferis of Amarkar sent you, and that you died for nothing."

[The Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune]

Prax'Ak Dor Molap

Prax did not sleep for as long as the others in the camp. Sleep was weakness in the wastes, when night heralded far worse wonders than those of the day. Trar'el slept in 2-3 hours shifts most of the time and Prax was no exception. He had kept himself in top condition since leaving Trara and he wasn't going to start. He had left the camp early to go for a bit of light hunting and to get away from the general annoyance of camp life. Prax enjoyed festivities and such, but the less natural races of the world were irritatingly loud, smelly, and disrespectful, to the point where Prax tried to avoid sleeping close to the camp if he could help it.

This morning he tracked a bear through the woods in his beast form. He moved swiftly and silently as he could, but the great lion couldn't help but break a few trees along the way. The stench of the bear was much easier to track than other animals, and Prax easily followed it to where the bear had trundled to try and find a place to sleep. In a small clearing he found it, sleeping as the sun began to rise. Prax dropped down, tensed up, and pounced, landing on top of the bear. His great jaws reached down and found purchase on the bears neck, and with a pop that sound like an explosion, Prax shook his head and snapped the creatures spine. Morphing out of his beast form, Prax sat down and breathed out, the adrenaline of the hunt fading from his veins.

A small whoosh from near by had him jumping back onto his feet. One of the Hercynians had landed behind him. Prax held the tip of his farx up and said "You're rather bold trying to sneak up on me Tyto."

Soren clicked a little and said "I wasn't trying to. We both know you wouldn't hear me coming if I was. So what brings the great Antoran out at this time in the morning."

"A hunt. I don't suppose you would understand what that means."

"I suppose not. My people left those ways behind long ago."

"Was that for the first genocide, or the second?"

"Alas if I remember. History was not a subject I was properly tutored in."

Prax spat on the ground, turned around and picked up the carcass of the beast he had killed, carrying it over his back. "Is there a particular reason I interest you Tyto?"

"I don't get outside of the Umbraweald very often. Other beastmen are an interest of mine due to how rare they are back home."

"Thalari. Our race is called Thalari."

"Well, perhaps you can correct me on a number of other things then."

Prax considered it for a second. "Very well, simply because carrying this bear will prevent me from gutting you for your ignorance owlman."

---

Back at Camp

Prax set down the bear near where he had been sleeping. Removing a curved knife from his belt, he began to gut and skin the great beast. Soren watched him do it for a moment before saying "Well, this has been rather enlightening Pridelord, but I must be getting back to my men."

Prax growled back "You do that." The owl silently took off back towards the bough of trees where the Hercynians had set up. Prax began to continue his work, when his ears began to pick up commotion by the temple. Sheathing his knife, he unstrapped his farx from his back, and proceeded over to the temple entrance, where it appeared the Elves had set up a bit of a perimeter. If the Athelaians were nervous at his arrival, they did not show it. One of the elves offered an ultimatum to the large Shi'el Prax had briefly met. The Wolf seemed to back down for a moment before rather brutally ending the life of one of the Elves. Prax grinned at this. As this happened, some of the Phalanx made to surround the Wolf and the group around her. Prax stepped in front of them and raised his weapon, saying calmly "Any moves against an Antoran is a move against me."

One of the elves spat on the ground and said "Pridelord. I've been looking forward to seeing you again. You killed my brother at Eckers."

Prax grinned and said "I killed plenty of Brothers in that crater." He then lunged forward with his Farx, which the elf blocked with his shield. The two elves adjacent to them began to move into position. Prax grinned and said "I think I will be killing more today."

Ripping his farx from the Elves shield, he spinned it around to keep the other two at a distance while he tried to isolate his main opponent. The initial elf raised his shield and jabbed forward with his spear, knicking Prax on the thigh as the Beastlord began to circle him. Prax growled a bit at the wound.

This process continued for a bit. Prax held off two of his opponents while allowing another one of them to manuever around him. This earned him a few knicks, but nothing that required immediate attention yet. Then, in an instant, Prax decided he had his opponent's where he wanted them. Suddenly jabbing back with his Farx, he felt it sink into the shield of the elf behind him. Ripping it forward, he brought the shield off the arm with the double bladed weapon, feeling something in the Elf's arm pop as he did so. Prax brought the side of his weapon now covered with a shield and slammed it into one of the elves in front of him, knocking the target back on to his back.

Turning to the remaining elf, Prax began to attack like a dervish, not giving the elf a chance to counter attack. The farx sparked against the metal parts of the shield as Prax forced the elf back more and more. The elf slowly began to adapt and soon the pair were exchanging blows. Prax roared as another cut was gashed into his leg, The elf shouted as the lionman cleaved into his shield arm. This went on for a few seconds before the elf made an error. Attempting to stab one of Prax's paws, he shoved his spear downwards. Prax managed to get ahead of him however and raised his foot, pinning the spear beneath it. Before another blow could be struck however, Prax roared in pain.

The elf with the now dislocated shoulder had stabbed Prax in his upper back. The wound did not feel very deep, but the spear itself was firmly caught between Prax's now corded muscle and his shoulder. Flexing his leg to break his current opponent's spear, Prax transfered his main weapon to one hand and swung out to grab the now disarmed elf. Though he managed to catch the elf by the leg, the Athelaian did not go into this quietly. He began to beat Prax's leg with his shield, shouting "Unhand me you Lightdamned animal." Prax responded by turning...

and swinging the Athelaian into a nearby pillar, crushing his breastplate and snapping his spine in several places. Prax slammed the elf against the ground and then the pillar again, before spinning and throwing him like a hammer. Facing his two remaining opponents, Prax growled "Which of you two wish to face the Thalai next?"

[Zjaum]

Krook Tolasthes

Werakoya sat down beside Krook and Ylva afterwards, plopping back down the grass and asking for another piece of buck. "Of course!" Krook said cheerfully, offering the bag towards the goliath woman. It was one less piece for lunch, but if he really needed it, he could always catch some small things. Right now, he had other issues to be dealt with, such as his bow. "Ummm...what is everyone doing at the temple's entrance?" Krook casually asked, his voice serious for the first time that conversation. "Are people getting ready to...fight?"

Werakoya was very pleased with the acceptance. "Thank you very much!" She grabbed the biggest... no... second-biggest strip available. Best not to overstep the crocodile's generosity. She didn't care much for ruining a perfectly fine friendship. Not to mention that he was a big, strong crocodile-man.

She took a bite of the deer meat as Krook asked for clarification. She held up a brief finger and bowed her head humbly as she tried to chew. She would never, ever, talk while eating. It was disruptive and annoying when everyone else did it, and she would hate to do it to someone else. Of course, part of the habit was also probably her time among the thieves, where a slight peep could raise alarm. She finished and swallowed, without a sound. That was some astonishingly good meat. She eagerly took another bite, only then recalling that her compatriot had petitioned her for information. Shoot! She chewed more quickly and swallowed again. Maybe one more- no! "I'm sorry about that. Something something the elves have betrayed us and seized control of the temple. Surrender or die, that kind of stuff. I told them sure, in an hour. I'm busy talking with you both, after all! Apologies for the disruption; what was your history with the bow?"

[Finland SSR]

Brialya

Saelaam of Trelia

Tarkin Oskrato

Syn of Ashar

---

Asking that was a mistake. The elf spoke first, explaining that she knew nothing except that the Athelaians are stirring up trouble. The beastfolk spoke next, stating that all he needs to know is that the Athelaians are stirring up trouble. And as Syn turned from one speaker to another, more and more questions popped up which went beyond that.

Why are the Athelaians betraying us?
What sparked the battle to take place down in the temple?
What is "the hammer"? You can't just drop that and assume all of us will-
Why is nobody explaining things?

And then a new person popped up. A human, who didn't even look like a soldier, presumably watching them for a while before he finally yapped his mouth and gave away his presence. By now, Syn was done. The runesmith sighed, pointed towards the white-haired knight by their side with his thumb, and replied:

"If you came here to find out what's going on, talk to her. After all, she's the most interesting person in the room." He then turned towards his Golem. "Follow, and draw your weapon."

The contraption followed orders, drawing its massive greatsword and wielding it with its right hand. As their small party advanced, the Golem marched in front, pushing past the greenery and foliage in its path and thus leaving a clear way for its teammates behind it. The sounds of swords clashing and people yelling grew closer and closer, until finally the first glimpse of the ongoing battle reached Syn in between the leaves.

[Auropa]

Side entrance crew

Gwendolyn Sirrade
Side ‘entrance’

Narrowing her eyes at the golem’s master as he turned against her of all people, she started considering the best retort to his rudeness when out of the darkness came a new figure, this one part avian and clearly out of breath. More interestingly though, as the figure moved into the light and began speaking, Gwen recognised him.
‘Maybe not a complete waste of time after all…’ Gwen thought to herself as she placed the uniform of Oadat’s chosen and noted the beastkin as one of the Shotarr Knight’s companions.

As the young man spoke, one thing became clear. The expedition was under attack. From the sounds of it, a group of elves had turned on the knights and were now making a push for some sort of artifact while another team worked to block the entrance. From the Thalari’s panic it was clear that the odds weren’t in their favour, meaning that if she were to bring a golem to their aid and ensure the safety of their poor defenceless priest in the process, then no-one could so much as question her virtue.

Making up her mind and doing her best to hold back a small fit of excitement, she cleared her throat and readied herself to order the group inside but just before she could start to speak, the elf did instead. Claiming her innocence in response to an accusations from the newcomer and stating that she had no connections to the Athelians, the elf went on to say that she and the group’s fighters would go into the temple and examine the situation while the boy waited outside. Immediately upset at being beaten to the punch and only irritated more-so by the fact it was by the one whose loyalties were being questioned, Gwen crossed her arms and let out a frustrated sigh as the bird priest stated they would go along with them.

“Do whatever you want, just keep your head down, stay behind us and don’t get in the way.” She stated as she brushed a few loose hairs from her face and moved towards the entrance.

Almost immediately, the unmistakable and not all that distant sounds of shouting and metal clashing against metal came into earshot and began proving the Chosen’s story accurate. Taking what could be last few moments of peace to prepare herself, Gwen placed a cautionary hand on her weapon, steadied her breathing and did her best to take note of her surroundings. Despite its age, the temple as a structure was still mostly solid and so long as she was careful, didn't seem like it would cause any issues for her footing. The real danger though, came from all the things she couldn’t see. Although far from being dark, the temple was still full of hidden nooks and pathways that could easily conceal different attackers within them and without knowing exactly where or what they were walking into, the risk of things like ambush to being completely out manned were strong possibilities. At the same time though, their approach was likely unknown to the enemy, giving them a strong potential advantage when things finally kicked off. As she continued to consider her options in the fight to come, her thoughts were suddenly interrupted as a new voice rung out from behind them with an understandably curious and cautious greeting.
Being less than willing to deal with any newcomers, Gwen was relieved to hear the Golem master take the lead in dealing with the man, only to be immediately let down as he dumped the task on her and moved to take the lead with his golem. Being already frustrated with the slight delays they were facing and far from patient to begin with, Gwendolyn took to her role simply and bluntly.

“Oh for- The knights are in danger, likely from elves, and we are moving in to assist them. So flee, fall in line or pull a blade on us, I don’t care which so long as you do it quickly!” She practically hissed before turning on her heel and practically jogging to catch up to the rude man ahead. ‘Like I’d let some nobody with a pet monster lead the charge!’ she thought as she practically forced herself along side him.

“And for the record, its Lady Gwendolyn Sirade not ‘miss’.” She stated proudly as they moved forward. While she was technically, arguably, completely stricken of all her titles and exiled from the one holy order of knights she had ever served with, she knew deep down that it was all a temporary mistake. One that she would quickly right and recover from. In fact, by still introducing herself as a knight, all she was doing was saving everyone from confusion later on.

When the noises continued to grow and the battle seemed imminent, her tone finally shifted to something more focused and serious. “I can move in close with your golem and support the knights. Stick with the elf and provide support magic where you can, if anything goes wrong, shout and I'll move in to help. Though under no circumstances are you to let the Oadat priest out of sight. He’s important and liable to get himself killed if he tries to help.”