Times change, and so do us all. (Open to all tech levels)

[Soviet Steam]

Manya turned back as her shoulder was tapped, noticing an old but strong man next to a knight in full plate armor, as the old man immediately asked to her, his looks denouncing that bad luck still was glued onto her, although probably he was not a clown self-entitled "vampire hunter" to make things worse:

"Excuse me, but I could not stop but notice your... 'Magic' display. I would be quite interested to know how, exactly, you do that."

Great. Should I tell the truth? she began to think quickly until she finally had a moment of smarts and answered:

"In my lands," she mentally held a smirk while she was explaining it, "I have studied a legendary spell book regarding fire and ice magics, written by an archmage called Blias Paschol, who was studying the art of Thaermodynamancy, and made his Second Tome of Thaermodynamantics, based upon the Kinemantic studies of the master of displacement magic Issac Neeton, where displacement is the art of moving, and shifting the position of things through magic, and also of anything else that involves movement and haste." Manya tried to explain properly the matter, as they could have completely different principles of magic, even though Isaac Newton was no magician, "among many other arts, Blias developed the art of enchanting small objects to easily become fire, far beyond what flint and wood could achieve. Also, Blias principles in my distant lands were used for the development of magical devices capable of, at the same time, keeping a room heated during winters and cool during summers."

One of her eyes was glancing at the armored man, wondering whether he was a bodyguard of sorts. The moon symbol over his shield meant he came from other lands, and she demonstrated clear interest for both of them. As she answered the man's question, Manya decided to ask one of her own, while thinking on some random fanciness to add:

"Now, mind you sir, we have not yet introduced ourselves, and my curiousity over your clear interest for the arcane is burning. I am Manya, the Red. Like the master Neeton, I am gifted at the school of displacement, although I have much to master yet to get even close to him. A pleasure to meet you" she curtsied, holding her grief over doing such gesture."

If only she could get her hands into that full plate mail. Killing the wearer and drinking his blood was definitively out of even the most far-fetched plans her mind devised to acquire one, and thus only persuasion and some social skill remained as alternatives to succeed into getting it for Ivan. On another matter, an olive suede uniform with a visible red collar and a black sickle and hammer into the collar and into the armband seemed a bit unusual for the garments of a sorceress or witch.

[Sakkra]

As they reached the city gates, the lizardmen, all of them wearing light armor and wielding spears for weapons, who were guarding the entrance, recognized the Sauromancer and without one word let him and the Sakkrans enter the city. The Sauromancers commanded great respect (and in many cases, fear) from the other C'tissians, and all of them knew how important the Sauromancers were for the sacral kingdom's survival.

Especially since the emergence of the Ashen Empire.

Entering the great city, they would notice that all of it was made of stone and brick. Even the roads which snaked around the many buildings were made of stone. While the C'tissians themselves would probably prefer the feel of the wilderness which surrounded the city, civilization required its... Sacrifices. The streets were full of life, people coming and going on their own business. It was obvious enough that the city was not primarily a military installation, but rather a place of residence for thousands of C'tissians, as the only armed forces they had seen so far had been at the entrance.

"Finally," said the Sauromancer with obvious glee in its voice as it turned towards the Sakkrans, "Finally we are here. Even if in a few years it is likely that this city will be claimed by the desert, like so many before it... Right now, it is divine!"

Rruk swiveled his head slightly from side to side as soon as they entered the swampland. Every now and then he would breathe deeply, his chest puffing out a bit from the inhalation. Coming onto the city, Ssekt let out a low whistle. "Looks like some of the outer stretches of Guuah." Rruk listened in on the sounds going on about them as they walked, and kept his nose keen on the strange smells of food and the inhabitants.

Zodda checked out the raiments the C'tissians wore. "You have some fine artisans among your people. The architecture is akin to a style we've used in the past before we domesticated Resin beetles. It would be a shame if it were lost....." Hossri looked over the guards as they passed by them, and tight-beamed a telepathic message to Rruk. 'All here seem at ease despite the encroaching troubles. Should I scan the area?'

Rruk held up a hand with the thumbs clenched and he two fingers outstretched, indicating a 'stand-by' message, which elicited a chirp from Hossri. As far as he could tell, Rruk didn't detect any signs of undue curiosity or animosity around him. Then again it couldn't be assumed that the scents that may waft off a Sakkran might be smelled on a C'tissian. "If the city is overcome by the desert, what would happen to the residents here?"

[Havensky]

Aboard the Zatarra, Chief Engineer Japoco was hunkered down underneath one of the instrument panels.

He had been there for a good half hour rewiring the panel in order to get the power running smoothly again.

- zzzt - - zzzt -

The instrument panel sung an electronic tune, letting Japoco know that it was back up and running.

Satisfied, he got up and brushed himself off. He figured he'd take a break before moving onto the next panel. Hopefully, by the time the group got back he'd have most of the ship healthy again.

[EmeriKa]

((OOC: Jesus, I forgot to LOG IN which lead to the death of the nation. And... I forgot to post, too. With that, this thread isn't dead! Even if it may have seemed that way. I'm going to keep going, even though it ran into a bit of a setback of my own creation. Now that the summer's over and all I have no reason not to post again.))

IC:

A smirk came across the old man's face as Manya explained the "magic" behind her display. It was beyond obvious that she was dumbing it down for him and his companion. And those around them.

It was probably for the best, anyway. Since the basics behind it all seemed to be somewhat beyond their technology.

"And I am Ruprecht," he said with a slight nod, "A smith of the kingdom of Ulm. It is a pleasure to..."

"Master smith," said the knightly figure beside him.

"Yes, yes, Erkeborn," Ruprecht continued as he glanced at the man, "But it is of no consequence here in Marignon."

"But we are Ulmish, and so it matters to me!"

Ruprecht sighed and shook his head a little.

"... And I don't," he murmured, "But anyway. You, miss Manya, do not seem to be from around here. I have never seen such clothing in my life, and I have been around. Nor have I heard of any master 'Neeton' nor 'Blias'. Where, if I may ask, would you happen to be from?"

--

"They will move deeper into the heartlands, of course," said the Sauromancer as a carriage pulled by a saurian being, not much unlike a velociraptor, passed the group, "Or, as is their right, they may even attempt to continue living here. It is entirely possible that this place will remain habitable thanks to the many wards which have been placed in and around this city, but... The outcome is impossible to tell until it actually comes to pass. It is also quite likely that the desert dwellers will be much more frequent here. Even if we would leave in the end, this city will never become completely deserted."

He looked around absentmindedly, as if trying to get his bearings. After a few moments, he, most apparently, found what he was looking for.

"The quarters of my kind are not far from here," he said, turning his head towards the Sakkrans again, "If you want, I could get you a guest room there rather than leaving you to the mercy of any local establishments."

--

Eimeric and his Wardens had been completely silent ever since they had left the strange vessel behind them, even with Dantes and his people in tow. They weren't used to staying out in the open like they were now, but there wasn't much they could do about it, since, well. The people with them were not quite as stealthy. Not that this deep in the kingdom's lands it mattered, in the first place. The only problem they could run into were...

The Wardens came to a sudden stop and seemed to scatter into the wilderness.

"Ermorian undead," Eimeric whispered so that Dantes and his people could know what was going on, "They are... Unusually deep in our lands. I have never heard of any surviving this far. But there's so few of them that this shouldn't..."

His whispering was interrupted by the sound of cracking bones, groans, rustling in the underbrush and some shrieks. Which ended as abruptly as they had started.

"... Take too long."

He took a few steps forward, pushing the foliage aside. They were greeted by a quite gruesome sight: Chunks of rotting human flesh, strewn across the forest floor.

"It seems we are done here," he said, smashing the head of one of the dismembered corpses under his boot, splattering an unusually little amount of blood on his armor, "These... Things... Could have caused a disaster had they reached a village."

"But," he continued as he started walking again, "We should continue on."

[Soviet Steam]

(OOC: No worries, sometimes I take months to update some of my threads too)

Manya noticed the old man smirking while she "explained" the workings of a matchstick, and simply carried away with the explanation, pretending to have not perceived it. After she finished with the phony explanation and greeted him, she attentiously listened to his reply:

"And I am Ruprecht," he said with a slight nod, "A smith of the kingdom of Ulm. It is a pleasure to..."

"Master smith," said the knightly figure beside him.

"Yes, yes, Erkeborn," Ruprecht continued as he glanced at the man, "But it is of no consequence here in Marignon."

"But we are Ulmish, and so it matters to me!"

Ruprecht sighed and shook his head a little.

"... And I don't," he murmured, "But anyway. You, miss Manya, do not seem to be from around here. I have never seen such clothing in my life, and I have been around. Nor have I heard of any master 'Neeton' nor 'Blias'. Where, if I may ask, would you happen to be from?"

Manya ignored the etiquette-obsessed knight escorting the man, now aware he was a master smith, whatever it meant other than the obvious he was probably a forger of powerful weapons in such antique world. The obvious would be of little interest to her, for she was as shoddy with a blade as with a bow, being used only to something that would never, ever be found in any place nearby, but there could be something else, not so straightforward, that he could provide, yet now it was not the time to think much and leave him waiting without a reply. Yet she took a few seconds before answering back, visibly thinking about something. Nodding, she simply said:

"Somewhere beyond this world, or perhaps beyond this realm, now, if I may ask," she shifted the subject, seemingly not interested in telling much about her home, "although I presume they would be very proficient, what talents do you exactly have, as Master Smith Ruprecht?" she demonstrated clear interest over what the man could possibly do. Perhaps, he could do far more than the expected forging of weaponry. Her thoughts now came on what else, other than obviously, a plate mail and matching helmet, boots and gloves, and a sword could be done by the clearly experienced man.

And more of all, considering how useless the strange metal bones would be now, whether they could be melted and reforged into something else or not. For definitively, they were made of something not unlike anything ever seen, as proved by the fact such bones remained intact after likely centuries under the stress of a frozen wasteland. Whatever happens now, however, would be a small matter to settle. The greater issue of earning the trust of the local regime was far more important, and to earn such trust before they discover their nature, critical for the continued existence of their souls.

[Havensky]

Dantes was a bit unnerved by the undead. Up to this point he had seen very few dead bodies - much less a body that moved.

"I agree", replied Dantes. He then sent a short transmission to Jacapo

Double the gaurd - enemy close by

As a precaution, the Skyans locked and loaded their weapons - the metallic sounds of steel moving bullets into the barrel accenting their hightened awareness.

[Sakkra]

Rruk looked off in the distance, wherever it may be while his retinue kept taking in the scenery while trying not to look like gawking tourists. "A guest room would be fine. I'll need some time to consult as to our next move. Most likely to find one who knows in depth the breadth and scope of the situation hereabouts."

[The White And Red Rose]

Major Alex Richter was stationed with his men on a god forsaken speck of land on a recon mission. He was sent all the way from the military outpost to sit, and watch. Not to take action OHHH no. Not him, not Omega Team. He looked down at the piece of paper again. Moving pieces of his Brown hair out of his green eyes.



**************************************************************************URGENT********************************************************************************

To Commanding Officer Omega Team.

-MISSION PARAMETERS-
To whom it may concern. Omega strike force Echo.

From- Admiral Syler King.

Confirmation of hostile activity located on Ermor Territory. Recon Team requested.

-------Echo strike force 1. You are to enter Ermor territory, and set up a base of operations. Send patrols to scout and retrieve information on hostile activity. DO NOT ENGAGE! REPEAT. DO NOT! ENGAGE. The Death that ravaged the countryside has been cleared. Intel reports actvity from military groups. Stockpiling resources, and starting a fight to reclaim the empire. High General Chesler Fes has remaining Omega units stationed if engagement is neccasary. We have 1,000 troops ready to attack as our military's advance guard. If The empire of Ermor Looks for more troops. Good luck. And god speed.


-End V.O.S (Voice Over System.)



The admiral must be crazy alex thought to himself. He had just spent hours practicing his spells for a attack on the Ermor Undead. Now to be told that he could not. He slowly walked down his camp to let his spellweavers know that the attack he promised would not be happening. Omega Team was an elite unit of spellcasters from the Rose Dominion. In the Dominion everyone "practicied" Magic. But none truly embraced it as the Omega team. In total Omega consisited of 400 spellcasters. And 1000 enlisted forces. This operation only called for the best. And the best answered. Echo strike force held 20 spellcasters, 10 marksmen, and 30 elite marines. This team was given the tough assignments.


Alex recalled the trek through the portal that brought them here. Location unknown, and in the middle of a fight between the living and dead. And yet he was ordered NOT to engage.

His thoughts had driven him, and before he knew it he was at the command tent. He opened the flap, and stepped inside to his Executive Officers huddled around a fire, and his squad officers milling about looking for something to do. Here we go.

"Ahem. Excuse me gentleman. I have some bad news. I just got our mission parameters. We are not to engage, repeat that NOT to engage. We are to recon, and send intel back to Headquarters."

His officers faces fell. He could tell morale would suffer for this.

"In the mean time", Alex continued. "I want the Colonists to be given the marksmen. I want them protected. And that includes not allowing certain Commanding officer's sons to somehow get away." He looked at a corporal who turned bright red before continuing. "Our magi, and armed men will come with me to the Waypoint tango. There we will retrieve our listening devices, seismic scans, and geography graphs. I want to be ready to move out in exactly 20 minutes. MOVE!"

The enlisted men moved frantically. Calling up platoons, sqauds, and two man killer teams. Alex enjoyed the hustle, and bustle. Reminded him of an acual military situations.

((At the moment. Omega's camp is here. White is the devices set up. Blue is Perimeter around devices. Trapped, and guarded by instant teleports away from the area. Green in the portal point entrance. (Where they were dumped.) And Yellow is the main base/slash colony.)) http://s841.photobucket.com/albums/zz33 ... 1hexad.jpg = map of Omega area.))



_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Skyler Richter was sitting with the other boys of the colony messing around, and getting into trouble. As a 10 year old boy, Sky was natuarlly curious, and always wanted to adventure. His Chestnut brown hair stood medium length, halfway covering his dark green eyes. And his height was 4'9. While his weight was a whopping 93 pounds. He was the Commanding officers son. And he had responsibility. Whatever that meant. He was just a kid living in a colony his dad commanded. He felt obligated to get into everything, and make sure the fort reamined on its toes. He did not know that said fort would get on its toes soon enough.

[EmeriKa]

"Well," he started awkwardly, rubbing his chin momentarily, "My field of work, as the other Master Smiths, relates much to all smithing related to warfare, and we make assorted weapons and armors for the military of Ulm," he continued until the knightly figure beside him interrupted him.

"You are too modest," said the knight, "my friend! No matter what the bigots of the Iron Order say, your work is invaluable for the Kingdom, and without your contributions the Ulmish war machine would not be where it is today!"

Ruprecht sighed.

"They do not just make weapons and armor for the Ulmish military," continued the knight, "they make the best weapons and armor known to man. The Black Order only utilizes equipment made by them, since the quality of their work is unsurpassed. You cannot find more durable and light plate armor made without magic anywhere on the two continents, even though they are perfectly capable of using the magical paths of Earth and Fire to aid the Kingdom not only at the forges and to summon great creatures, but also on the battlefield."

"Yes, yes," responded Ruprecht with a lowered and annoyed voice, "We do weapons and armor, and we do what we can on the field. But that does not mean you have to interrupt me every time I speak."

"Correct. But I know you too well. You would not tell the true value of your order even if your life depended on it, and you know I speak the truth."

Ruprecht sighed again.

It was true, but it didn't mean Erkeborn would have to remind him of his supposed importance at every turn.

--

"Ah, excellent," spoke Eimeric to the Havenskyans shortly after one his Wardens had come from the woods and whispered something to him, "While there is still some walking to be done, we are getting closer. The forest road which takes to Avalon is," he continued as they came upon an opening which did indeed look like a road, even if one that seemed unkempt and ancient, "Upon us."

Even if they still had to walk further, at least now it was less arduous. The Witches of Avalon did not live in the most accessable part of the Kingdom of Man, after all.

--

"Very well," spoke out the Sauromancer, signaling Rruk and his companions to follow him, "While I will have to continue on my duties after I have properly rested and reported what I have done," he continued as they walked towards a quite simple looking wooden door leading into an enormous, inconspicuous-looking stone building, "I am sure there are some of my kind around who could help you."

"This place was not built with us in mind," he murmured as he opened the door, "But it is good enough."

The interior of the building was quite dark, with the only light source being what seemed like torches on the walls which burnt with strange, green light. The walls, the ceiling and the floor were made of stone, not much unlike what was on the exterior of the building. It was quite undecorated. Stoic, even.

"You have arrived," spoke a hissing voice which came from the front, "Good."

"Yes, I have," Lugal'sisa responded, "And I have brought guests."

"Yes, you have," said the voice as it came closer, the green light revealing another C'tissian in a robe much like that of Lugal'sisa, even if this one was obviously much older, "Why?"

"They are not from this realm. I decided they deserve our aid."

The other Sauromancer peered quizzically at the outsiders for a moment.

"Hmph. Very well."

"Could you take them to the guest rooms and answer whatever questions they have? I have other things to attend to."

"You ask much, child."

"I do not think so."

"... I will do this, then. I do not have any duties to attend to anyway."

"Thank you," said Lugal'sisa, after which he turned to the Sakkrans.

"I apologize, but this is where I must take my leave. He will show you to your room."

--

The strange new development not too far away from the Marignonian border had not gone unnoticed by either the Ashen Empire nor the feudal theocracy, especially since their presence had pushed the undead out of the area. The undead had advanced northwards to ensure that the C'tissian lizards nor the woodsmen of Man would be able to march deeper into the southern parts of the western continent while keeping a noticiable presence in the area beside Marignon in case of a large scale assault which was bound to come sooner or later, especially since they had managed to strike a deal with Ulm.

For the Ashen Empire, this constituted a threat. The presence of outsiders in Ermorian lands, especially as close as they were to Eldregate and as such the lands where the majority of undead brought forth beyond the realm of the living came from, could not go unchecked. Indeed, forces which had not yet been brought forth into the war stirred in the dark. Shrieks filled the air in those the desolate lands.

The dead would bring Death to their doorstep.

[Sakkra]

"You have arrived," spoke a hissing voice which came from the front, "Good."

"Yes, I have," Lugal'sisa responded, "And I have brought guests."

"Yes, you have," said the voice as it came closer, the green light revealing another C'tissian in a robe much like that of Lugal'sisa, even if this one was obviously much older, "Why?"

"They are not from this realm. I decided they deserve our aid."

The other Sauromancer peered quizzically at the outsiders for a moment.

"Hmph. Very well."

"Could you take them to the guest rooms and answer whatever questions they have? I have other things to attend to."

"You ask much, child."

"I do not think so."

"... I will do this, then. I do not have any duties to attend to anyway."

"Thank you," said Lugal'sisa, after which he turned to the Sakkrans.

"I apologize, but this is where I must take my leave. He will show you to your room."

In the dark, stoic. surroundings, Rruk bowed his head a bit as Lugal'sisa turned and spoke. "My gratitude for escorting us." He allowed his ears to take in the reverberating sound made in the conversation, getting a rough idea of the layout and composition of the materials. Low technology, wall-sconce lighting, smell of ages past...like the antechambers of the Temple. His retinue allowed a bit of time for their eyes to adjust before they moved anywhere, but Rruk made no hesitation, blind in the traditional sense as he was.

Rruk cocked his head to the elder C'tiss and bowed slightly. "I thank you for your hospitality and apologize for the imposition."

[Soviet Steam]

When Manya asked him, she hoped that somehow, they could forge more things than only tools of war, but seemingly they were specialists, masters at their art, but they wouldn't probably be able to make a masterwork bell for a tower if requested, as such was the impression she had from the way the experienced smith and the knight next to him spoke. Listening to their conversation and explanations, her interest began to shine as it became clearer that although what she hoped for probably would be too much

"Well," he started awkwardly, rubbing his chin momentarily, "My field of work, as the other Master Smiths, relates much to all smithing related to warfare, and we make assorted weapons and armors for the military of Ulm," he continued until the knightly figure beside him interrupted him.

"You are too modest," said the knight, "my friend! No matter what the bigots of the Iron Order say, your work is invaluable for the Kingdom, and without your contributions the Ulmish war machine would not be where it is today!"

Ruprecht sighed.

"They do not just make weapons and armor for the Ulmish military," continued the knight, "they make the best weapons and armor known to man. The Black Order only utilizes equipment made by them, since the quality of their work is unsurpassed. You cannot find more durable and light plate armor made without magic anywhere on the two continents, even though they are perfectly capable of using the magical paths of Earth and Fire to aid the Kingdom not only at the forges and to summon great creatures, but also on the battlefield."

"Yes, yes," responded Ruprecht with a lowered and annoyed voice, "We do weapons and armor, and we do what we can on the field. But that does not mean you have to interrupt me every time I speak."

"Correct. But I know you too well. You would not tell the true value of your order even if your life depended on it, and you know I speak the truth."

Chuckling, Manya wondered why such a knight was giving such an excessive patronage of the smith to the point of annoying him, and seemingly agreed, in a way, with Ruprecht's point regarding the lack of necessity of announcing one's competence everywhere. He was definitively excessive. As the conservation among both was finished, she the nodded, and asked the truly important question:

"I am interested in your knowledge, sir Ruprecht," Manya casually nodded, as she slowly removed an object from her left pocket, a prod with its tip covered by coiled metal emerging into two parallel extremities, of which one was terribly broken, and showed it to him, explaining, "It was my first creation, and my last, as after it, I have answered the call of magic, and thus what I know is mostly basic, even on magic, no matter how strange it sounds, for I am not that versed with the study of magic either, sir Ruprecht."

As she presented a brief of her knowledge, she then placed the broken shock prod into her pocket, and took a single bullet from another, offering it for Ruprecht to see. The bullet was a cylinder of metal with a conical end, longer and thicker than an arrowhead, and even though it suggested a purpose other than warfare, it was obviously not built for any weapon that existed in such times. Its rear had a hollow, seemingly intended to be filled with something in its original purpose, the primer and gunpowder charge that Manya no longer needed to use them.

"I supposed that if you, sir Ruprecht, arrived in Marignon," Manya then finally went to her point, "you probably either are looking to offer your services to these armies, or already have a compromise to forge weapons and armors here." It was then that she pointed at the bullet in explained, "in my world, these objects were used by different ranged weapons, which are, in a way of speaking, the successors of the composite longbow, other than for the fact these objects fly so fast when they are fired that they can't be used to provoke a rain against advancing armies, like arrows. As for why I have them, they are optimal for when I have the need of using my magic offensively, for it is easier to make something small like this fly at a high speed than to make something heavier, like a boulder, fly slowly. And I have trained too much with them," she then explained, smiling as she admitted her own ineptness, "that I can't truly replace them with another object, and I'd probably hack one my eyes off with the bowstring if I tried using a bow. And, thus, perhaps," she finished, "perhaps, sir Ruprecht, would you be willing to commission a few services for a private contractor?" and then, politely, she gestured to whisper to him, as she lived long enough to know how to avoid problems and undesirable attention of muggers and thieves at rarities, "I also have a need for testing a very strange metal I found in one of my adventures, and perhaps someone of your skills could truly put such a metal to a worthy weapon, or armor, which I find less likely as I don't have much of it. If you have interest, I have it safely guarded in my room, but there is a certain detail about it: it was already forged into something, something I still cannot understand the purpose of."

Her hope of getting a full plate mail for Ivan was now at its highest. However, other issues remained, the horrors her curse inflicted upon her because of her refusal to perform evil and forsake her ideals being one of the most remarkable, and painful. One she still hoped that one day, a cure would be found for, but her hope would only become dimmer at every day of such eternal unlife, only less terrible than what would await her had her soul departed.

[EmeriKa]

"This is... Odd," murmured Eimeric as his Wardens and the Havenskyans walked down the forest road, signaling to some of them to scout further down the road.

"I'm sure it is nothing," he said turning towards Dantes, "But... Something feels wrong. Very, very wrong. As though the magic in these woods is..."

He shuddered.

"Dying out. But that cannot be. The magic of this place is ages old!"

--

"Bah, it is not a problem," spoke the elder Sauromancer, shrugging dismissively, "As I said, I have nothing else to do at the moment anyway."

He turned and waved for the Sakkrans to follow.

"So... You are not from here," he said as they walked down the corridor, taking a left turn, "are you? We do not often get guests here in the frontier, noncitizens even less."

--

Ruprecht scratched the back of his head. Normally he wouldn't even consider the offer since his duty to the kingdom of Ulm always came first, but this wasn't a normal situation. Not only was he not in Ulm, but he was currently out of work because of some bureaucratic mistake done by the Inquisition of Marignon. That, and this seemed rather... Interesting.

He lowered his hand.

"You are in luck," he started, "I would normally say 'no' to any such offer as I usually only do work for the kingdom of Ulm, but due to the war I have been relocated and right now I am not even allowed to aid in the war effort..."

"But...!," the knight almost shouted out, but before he could continue, Ruprecht interrupted him.

"Yes, yes. I know what you are going to say," he said, glancing at the knightly figure, "But while I am a member of the Ulmish military, it does not mean that I cannot do anything beside my work within the military."

"Well," said the knight somewhat annoyedly, "If you are going to ignore my advice again, who am I to stop you from weakening your position within your order."

Ruprecht sighed as the knight walked out of the inn.

"... We may have been friends for many years, but he has... Certain issues. But as I stated earlier, your... Creations intrigue me. And even if they turn out to be of not much use, well, that is just a little bit of time wasted."

And as long as he didn't get a green light from the Inquisition, he had all the time in the world.

((OOC: Ugh, FINALLY, A POST. I will try to keep up a better pace from now on, SERIOUSLY. Doubleplusserious! Kind of telling of my slowness that one of the nations involved in this RP has DIED in the time I was inactive!))

[Havensky]

Captain Dantes felt uneasy as well.

"Yes, something does feel wrong. How far off are we?"

[Sakkra]

"Bah, it is not a problem," spoke the elder Sauromancer, shrugging dismissively, "As I said, I have nothing else to do at the moment anyway."

He turned and waved for the Sakkrans to follow.

"So... You are not from here," he said as they walked down the corridor, taking a left turn, "are you? We do not often get guests here in the frontier, noncitizens even less."

Zodda felt her eyes adjusting to the low light levels, cautiously stepping one foot in front of the other. "Our peoples aren't want to travel abroad much into unfamiliar environs, either, unless there's something important." Ssekk piped in "And if the Order calls on you, chances are it's pretty important."

Hossri kept pace behind and to the right of Rruk, who seemed to follow his senses unerringly despite his lack of vision. "These catacombs almost seem to have a familiarity to them." he said telepathically to Rruk, which only elicited an assenting grunt.

[Soviet Steam]

"... We may have been friends for many years, but he has... Certain issues. But as I stated earlier, your... Creations intrigue me. And even if they turn out to be of not much use, well, that is just a little bit of time wasted."

Manya observed, remaining neutral to the reaction of the knight accompanying Ruprecht as he questioned the decision of him to accept her proposal. It was just another typically reactionary knight, exactly like the stereotype portrayed in anti-monarchist propagandas. She was expecting that the propagandas were exaggerated about their behavior, but it seems that even in propaganda, there was a glint of truth after all. As the master smith explained, she smiled:

"Not a problem, Sir Ruprecht, I can understand your friend motivations," Many then explained, as she glanced at the stair leading up, "if you follow me to my room, I could show you more. I am certain you have the abilities to put any metal to good use."

However, she also wondered whether Ivan was still there. Hopefully he wouldn't be, for otherwise she would need a silver tongue to convince the Ulmish smith that he is on their side, and, considering where they were, damnation could be the result. Unfortunately, she saw little else to do for now, and before beginning to go upstairs, Manya also asked, out of curiousity:

"Sir Ruprecht, from what you know, how many reigns, other than Marignon, Ulm and," she shivered, "Ermor", are there is this world?"

[EmeriKa]

"We are almost at the border of the forest of Avalon," he said with obvious concern in his voice, "But something... Something has happened. If even you can feel it, without having the kind of connection with the place as we do, it must be profound in nature. It..."

"Yes, Lord Warden," stated a voice, strong but showing signs of aging, coming from behind them, "Something has happened."

Eimeric turned around. He was surprised by what he saw. It was an elderly man in a plain red robe, whose hair was quite grey. Worry had left its mark on his wrinkled face. Two Tower Guards were beside him, one on both sides.

"... What is a Magister Arcane doing here?"

"What do you think," said the man, taking a few steps towards Eimeric, "Lord Warden?"

"You can not be serious," responded Eimeric incredulously.

"Oh," the old man said, "But I am. It has come to pass, just as we said it would."

Eimeric turned his face towards the ground.

"But would the Witches listen to our warnings? No. They would not. And now the power they wielded has brought upon us all a great curse. Magic is leaving these lands, and it is all their doing."

As the old man's words sunk in, Eimeric remained silent.

"Ah," he continued, noticing Dantes and his people, "But where are my manners," he said, bowing slightly towards them, "I am Eadred, a Magister of Chelms. Pleased to meet you."

--

"So, this Order," said the Sauromancer as he continued forwards, passing a a door after another, all of which had a different marking on them, barely visible in the relative darkness of the interior of the building, "What, exactly, is it? They must have some grand resources if they know of what is going on here from another realm entirely."

Having said that, he finally stopped in front of a door.

"Ah," he murmured as he took a key from a pocket of his robe, unlocked the door and opened it, "we are here."

The room was lighted better than the corridors, with lanterns which gave out more regular, yellow light. It was, after all, meant for visitors who weren't likely to be as accustomed to the lighting which the Sauromancers themselves generally used. The room itself was relatively spacious and tidy, with four beds in the room as well as a stone table with four, quite unmovable stone chairs around it.

"I hope this fits your needs," he said as he turned towards the Sakkrans, "As I mentioned earlier, we do not get guests here often."

--

The question about the number of different reigns in the realm just before they were about to get down to business surprised Ruprecht a little bit. It wasn't his specialty and he had barely left Ulm before the war against the Ashen Empire, but...

"How many reigns there are? Well... This is not exactly where I am best at. But there are five that I know of, including the three you mentioned. Ermor who we are at war with, our, uh, good friends of Marignon, us, Pythium who we are, as far as I know, trying to convince to join in the war, and the lizardmen to the north."

For a moment he went silent.

"Anything else you want to know? I will do my best answering your questions, but I am a smith, not a scholar."

[Soviet Steam]

"How many reigns there are? Well... This is not exactly where I am best at. But there are five that I know of, including the three you mentioned. Ermor who we are at war with, our, uh, good friends of Marignon, us, Pythium who we are, as far as I know, trying to convince to join in the war, and the lizardmen to the north."

For a moment he went silent.

"Anything else you want to know? I will do my best answering your questions, but I am a smith, not a scholar."

Manya paid a lot of attention to Ruprecht as he gave his answers. Being more keen on his expressions than on anything else, she began to interpret his mannerisms and way of speaking in his mind, hoping she wouldn't make a mistaken assumption about the man. It was very difficult to judge a man, specially one that has been just met. Sometimes, first impressions were deceptive. Hopefully this was not one of them.

"The fact he dismissed his friend's knight traditionalism, maybe it'd be enough to save me from," she cut off the thought to avoid shuddering in fear, as then her spasm would probably raise suspicions. Instead, she promptly replied him, as he finished, smiling honestly, while thinking on the fact there were lizardmen in this foreign world. It was clear she and Ivan clearly went very far away from their own universe. And perhaps, coming back would not be possible, or perhaps, it would, as they had an eternity to find a way back, provided they managed to survive the perils of this new world until they find it. On the current matters, her mind again focused, as she explained:

"I have no further questions, and I appreciate your honesty, Sir Ruprecht, thank you for giving me further insight about this world. Now, if you may." Manya began to head upstairs, as she took a key from her pocket and headed towards her room. As she looked at the wooden door, she began to hope Ivan hasn't returned yet. Discretely peeking through the keyhole while she heard the Master Smith loud footsteps through the stairs, Manya felt a sense of alleviation. He didn't return yet. And thus, she unlocked the door as the old smith approached her, and opened it, saying:

"I apologize for the lack of a proper place to examine ores and metals, but this is all I have for now," Yelena then closed the door again, and locked it, "Just for safety," she smiled, moving to a place across the only closet in the private Inn room, "it is right here, inside, just one moment," she then opened the doors of the closet, as she looked at the skeleton, with its intricate clockworks inside its joints still intact. Dragging its frame with some difficulty, while puffing, she finally placed the metal skeleton over the bed, as she explained:

"I found this buried under ice, in one of my expeditions through a frozen and desolate region of my native realms known as the Wastelands. I have no idea of what it has been used for, and what exactly was the purpose of this skeleton, but this alloy used for these bones, it is something unlike anything I ever witnessed. And there is more," Manya explained, as she finally took the strange weapon she hid below her spare clothes inside the closet. It had a ball-shaped tip connected to its square body by a cylindrical tube, with a spiral of metallic wires wrap around the tube that were melded with the ball-shaped tip, and a handle with a trigger below its square body, being something not unlike anything both of them ever saw, "this skeleton was holding this artifact in his right hand, but although I thought about it first, I believe it is impossible for these bones to be the remains of a man who died eons ago. Perhaps it wasn't really a man at all, maybe," she tried to come with the right words, stuttering for a time, as she said, "maybe a Golem of sorts?"

"Yelena..." When everything seemed to be going fine, the ethereal apparition of Ivan suddenly appeared, gasping immediately and becoming when realizing she was not alone. Reacting quickly to avoid a disaster, for at the very moment her continued existence unbound from damnation was at stake, "Manya" looked at Ivan and said, in a visibly angered tone:

"You are not supposed to frighten my guests, guardian spirit. Back to your duties and keep watching for evil spirits!"

"Wait, why watch for evil spirits here? We are in holy grounds! No evil spirits will ever walk through Marignon! I am sorry, sir, I am sorry for the unexpected surprise!" Ivan, who was no fool, quickly played Yelena's game.

"Good," Yelena said, as Ivan vanished again, and she returned to Ruprecht, lowering slightly her head:

"My apologies. I should have explained that all wizards and sorcerers of my lands have guardian spirits of many kinds. Some are humans, other just the spirits of animals, we need them because most of us cannot see the spirits, but evil spirits can see us, and harm us, thus we have guardian spirits to protect us from harm."

[Havensky]

Captain Dantes gave a slow bow towards the Magister Arcane.

Greetings - My name is Captain Dantes of the Skybound Republic of Havensky and I am the Captain of the Airship Zatarra. I was hoping you could give some insight as to what brought us here. It appears however, that there may be some more pressing matters at hand.

Dantes looked around, My ship is some ways off and is still in repair, but if there is any way we can help you - we will.

[EmeriKa]

Manya's quick explanation seemed quite unbelievable to Ruprecht. He had felt that there was something wrong with her which had only strengthened once they had left the more crowded parts of the inn, that she wasn't quite what she seemed, and the apparition had only reinforced that assumption. Not only had it called her with a different name than what she had told him, but there was also something decidedly off with the so called "guardian spirit".

He instinctually touched one of the artifact amulets which were underneath his clothing and hanged from his neck and sighed. Whilst it was unlikely that he was in any immediate danger, he would have to remain cautious.

"If you say so," he said, lowering his hand from the amulet as he looked at the metallic skeleton, going back to the issue at and rather than questioning her of her state of existence and that of her "guardian spirit", "It does not look like a golem, but rather..."

"Clockworks?," he said incredulously as he looked at the metallic skeleton's joints.

"It does remind me of something. But it seems far more sophisticated than what I have seen. I would be interested to study it more thoroughly."

Clockwork horrors, they were called. But they were hardly intricate, but rather just spring driven automatons used preferably in short battles, as they had to be wound up again shortly after initial activation.

--

"You came here by airship? Those are most uncommon in these parts indeed. I take from your strange uniforms, weapons and the equally strange name of your place of origin that you are not from this realm. As for what brought you here, I cannot say. Although I could theorize that it is related to the changes taking place in these lands. With magic seeping from the very soil we stand upon, it is entirely possible that you were struck by an anomaly caused by it."

He shook his head.

"But there is no way to be certain. It could be any number of things. It may have been even something as fickle as the will of the gods."

"Your eagerness to aid us is appreciated. But with the disappearance of the Witches, these woods are no longer safe. If you could lead me to your ship, I could, maybe, possibly, help you bring it to civilization. If," he continued, glancing at Eimeric, "the Wardens could aid me in gathering some magical resources from Avalon, first..."

Eimeric sighed.

"... I am sure we could. The Witches were well equipped in that respect..."

"Good, good. If you would be so kind and tell your men to get me as many gems they can find and carry, and then follow us as we go forth to the vessel of these good people."

Eimeric nodded in silence, and whispered a few orders to his fellow Wardens who still were with them. Shortly after which all of them disappeared into the woods.

Satisfied with this, Eadred smiled slightly.

"Lead the way, if you will."

--

The path from the heartlands of Marignon to the great wall which separated the Ashen Empire from the lands of the living was dotted with settlements from villages of differing sizes to moderately sized forts, which were used to resupply the forces which marched past them as well as places where the troops could rest after long days of marching.

On this particular day, a force consisting of Marignonian troops only, commanded by an Inquisitor, was on the march. They were to reach the next town shortly, nearing the middle point of their march. Their chance to rest was to come in this town, after which they were to push forward until they would reach the wall and reinforce the garrison forces stationed there which had been under heavy Ermorian assault as of late after the strange disappearance of the unknown faction which had appeared just as abruptly, which had stirred the undead who had mostly settled for bringing forth more of their kind until that point in the southern parts of the world.

But it was not to be. Once they should have been able to see the town in the horizon, all they saw was black smoke.

"Lord Inquisitor!", shouted a scout in ragged clothing, his armor stained in blood, who was running towards them, "Lord Inquisitor! We were overrun!"

"Calm down, my child," said the Inquisitor with a friendly voice once the young man had stopped running and was gasping for air in front of the Inquisitor, "What has happened?"

"They were," he said as he was trying to catch his breath, "They were demons!"

"Demons? Are you sure?"

"Yes, my Lord! They came from nowhere, and soon the entire village was set ablaze! The commander of the garrison told me to run and tell what had happened to the troops who were to come today. But... It was too late already... Everyone's dead!"

Indeed, not only had the living of the world fight the growing undead legions of the Ermorian empire, but from now on it became quite obvious that they had to face the Infernal forces as well.

[Havensky]

Captain Dantes was not pleased with having to march all the way there only to march all the way back, but bit his tongue as he led the way back to the vessel.

He reached his hand to his ear and clicked the comm device.

Japaco, Dantes - we're on our way back. How's Zatarra doing?

I've got most of the wiring re-routed so the lights are on for the most part. I've only got half the reactors working - which means we don't have quite enough power for lift yet. I'm about to try to restart them in an hour once the safety locks clear up.

Keep in touch, we need her flying soon.

Need I remind you sir that we did get hit by multiple lighting strikes?

I remember - Just get it us airborne, I don't care what it takes. Dantes Out

Chief Engineer Japaco cursed for a moment and then began to think of a way to get the ship flying. It was just too heavy at this point. The sensor dish weighed at least 20% of the whole ship.

Japaco paused, and then began shouting at his men.

[EmeriKa]

The Magister had noticed the odd contraption Dantes had used presumably to speak with his people at his ship as he silently followed them with his two guards. He had dismissed it as some kind of a cheap trinket which probably had very little other value than letting people speak to each other over distances. They had similar trinkets themselves. Larger, yes, and far less portable. In fact, it was usually easier to use people or even animals to do the same. But still, they had the ability to do much the same in times of need.

After all, the fact that he was going to see an actual air ship was much more interesting to him. He had never seen one in person, although he had heard stories of the Holy Empire, the predecessor of the Ashen Empire, using some of them in times past. Whilst the Magisters had delved into the possibility of constructing ships capable of flight, they had abandoned the idea due to prohibitive cost in resources, both magical and otherwise, which were better used elsewhere as the kingdom was forced into a war against the undead. Invading the inhospitable lands of the Ashen Empire through air was out of the question anyway - crash landing into the cold and barren wastelands of the undead would have spelt doom to any forces the kingdom could muster.

And so, he followed the Havenskyans.

--

The assault upon the living who occupied the wall which separated the lands of the living and those of the dead was unrelenting. For every undead abomination that fell by the flaming bolts of the thousands upon thousands of crossbowmen of Ulmic and Marignonian descent who were stationed all across the wall itself, it seemed as though ten, nay, a hundred, took its place. No matter how much fire was rained upon their ranks, they kept marching forward. In the end, all that stood between many a section of the wall itself and the dead were the Seraphim and their lesser kin. They wielded great flaming swords created by the faithful men of Marignon. They were an awesome sight to behold: Gigantic angelic beings with three pairs of wings of only one pair is used for flight whilst the others cover their eyes and bare feet, respectively. Even with their hands often hidden behind the pair of wings which cover their eyes, the flames of their swords do not burn them. They were taller than the wall itself.

But even with all their power, they were not all powerful. They may serve a god, but they are not gods themselves.

The Seraph smiled slightly, still holding his sword high after defeating another massive undead monster. The broken bodies of his smaller kin were strewn across the land, as well as those of their enemies and those of his - massive, skeletal remains of undead beings, some even surpassing him in size. Blood was flowing from the numerous cuts on his body, making him feel weaker with each passing moment. Indeed, it might be the day he left these lands and returned to his Lord. It was as though the dead were taunting him now, sending but one of their mockeries of beings of near godlike power at a time, biding their time, but the Seraphim are not easily broken, not even when they are facing death.

And there it was: The skeletal form of what once was a proud Cyclops, broken both in body and soul by aeons of imprisonment in Tartarus. All it had on it were a large enchanted sword as well as a shield, and armor which was not exactly of the heaviest type. Just another near-mindless enemy to deal with.

But just as the Seraph was preparing to duel this monstrosity, something he had not expected happened. The Cyclops, unlike its predecessors had stopped at a distance, and struck the earth with his sword, kneeling down in the process. This baffled the Seraph, until it became clear why the being had done thus: Its form was hidden behind the changing forms of several elementals created from the soil. Once the elementals had come forth, the Cyclops stood up once more. Obviously this enemy was not of the same stock as those who had come before it. He knew that he was no longer strong enough to fly - the elementals would be more than enough to keep him in one place. He also knew that the elementals would not be strong enough to do much else than distract him in battle, and if he were to win the fight against the Cyclops... They would disappear with him.

But it was not going to be.

Only moments after the elementals had surrounded the Seraph and he prepared for the Cyclops, he realized that something was horribly wrong. He felt his body... Stiffening. It took most of his concentration to fight it off, leaving him defenseless.

Of which the Cyclops was acutely aware.

It lunged forwards, holding its sword with both hands as it quickly closed the gap between itself and the Seraph. It drove its sword deep into the abdomen of the angel, forcing it to come out from the back, and then it proceeded to force the sword upwards with inhuman strength. Blood spilled all over the elementals which had surrounded the Seraph, the wall behind them, on the ground and on the Cyclops itself. As the Seraph began to fall to the ground, still supported by the sword somewhat however, the Cyclops kicked the Seraph off its sword. It turned its face skywards and let out a fell shriek, terrifying the men who still stood on the wall before it. Panicked screams as people tried to flee from the section of the wall the Cyclops was likely to come for filled the air.

The victory of the undead Cyclops was shortlived, however.

Its shriek was cut short as another angelic being, all clad in black armor fell from the sky upon it, his sword striking the Cyclops' body in such a way that it was practically cut in two, and as the Cyclops' powers waned, the elementals it had commanded disappeared as well. As the men on the wall began to realize what had happened, the screams had turned into cheers among the Ulmic crossbowmen - their reinforcements had arrived, and with them had come the Iron Angels. The loss of a Seraph was a great blow, but he would be avenged.

[Havensky]

The trip back seemed shorter than it was before. The lack of undead ambushes helped with the time-frame.

As he walked into the clearing in which the Zatarra had landed in, his jaw dropped.

JAPACO! What did you do to her!?!

Japaco's large frame crawled out from one of the external compartments, his overalls covered in grease. The command ship's large sensor array had been detached from the ship, leaving a stub on the ship's topside. Several cargo compartments had been hallowed out leaving empty spaces on each side. The tears in the wings had been repaired and the ship's lights were back on.

Don't scream at me Cap, you wanted her to fly no matter what it took. She's two heavy for the amount of power that we got. Had to lighten the load. I'll put it back on once we get rescued or what-not. Besides, the whole dish is busted.

And before you even ask - I tried restarting the fusion reactors. They just sputter at me. I'm still trouble-shooting it - so get off my back.

In his speech, Japaco hadn't even noticed the newest visitor who was no doubt staring at the large airship.