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[SL the Pyro]

When the dust settled from the controlled chaos that shook Koridai to its very core, there was virtually nothing left where the charges had been planted. The bridges had been completely demolished, splinters thrown in every direction. The sewer system crumbled, exposing large, gaping maws of holes where the exits should have been. The force was so great that even the coliseum-like city walls that stood as a symbol of impregnability crumbled into ruin, now more of s symbol of how those inside were trapped.

It was done. The Arbiter's Grounds had been entirely cut off from the rest of the nation.

"...What have we done...?"

The question circulated through the minds of all five of them. The entire operation had been so quickly and haphazardly done... only now in the aftermath did the weight of what they were doing truly hit them. There were no double many people who had been injured or even perished in this act against the Grand Marshal... the ex-General took his hat off of his head and put it to his chest in silent mourning. No one had wanted people to get hurt... but there wasn't much that could be done for it. Solomon's murderous plan had to be put to a halt. Many more people would've died otherwise.

"I don't think anyone from Koridai is going to see us as heroes for this..." Jakob muttered silently, also holding his helmet to his chest in memory of the ones who had died here now. His eyes were narrow and black as the night, with blonde locks that went all the way down to his waist; one wondered how it all fit in his helmet to begin with. The rest of the soldiers followed suit. Ryu was a bald man with a scar over his left eye, and Nia was a brunette girl with long pigtails and sky-blue eyes.

"Was what we did... really right?" Nia asked.

"...I honestly don't know." Shadow replied, closing his eyes and trying not to visualize how many lives they had just ended. "But we couldn't just sit around and do nothing. If we hadn't... this would be a fraction of the devastation Solomon would cause for sure. Our job was to protect Koridai, and that's what we did." he said. His tone was more serious than usual. He opened his eyes again, the fires reflecting in his eyes. "There's nothing more we can do... what happens now is up to Koridai itself."

He placed his hat back on his head and spun on his heel, headed back to the carriage. The soldiers on the other hand dropped their helmets to the ground, not feeling worthy to wear them... it wasn't like there were in service of Koridai anymore after all.

"All we can do is wait and see whether or not the nation will recover without Chikara's hand in it." he continued, hopping into the vehicle, shortly followed by the others.

Everyone was re-situated, and with a wave of his hand the horse-drawn carriage was in motion once again. Next stop: Calatia.

"We won't look back."

--------------------

OoC: Shadow is now headed in the general direction of Calatia. If you plan on him making a run-in with the Calatia group, JRP, this would be your chance. Otherwise I think I'm done this section of the RP.

Edited by SL the Pyro, 18 July 2011 - 12:36 AM.

[JRPomazon]

OoC: I have to say that this might be one of the darker things I have ever written and that this is very very long. I apologize for that, but it's a very big part of the story. Take what you will from it. Calatia post tomorrow.

The night grew black with only the light of the torches below illuminated the shattered capital. As per the goals of the ex-general, the exits of the city had been completely sealed with rubble and debris. It was quiet, a terrible quiet. There were no sounds made by the people, no clambering or shuffling amongst them as they slowly pieced together what was going on in their homes, neighborhoods and districts. All they knew was that there was a loud noise. Some casualties. Fire.

They didn't realize they were facing the calm before the storm.

A rumble echoed from the badly damaged spire. A soft, sudden noise repeating every half second. Growing louder as time passed. Those who remained out of their homes did listen as others slowly came back out to question what was going on. From a distance, there were lights. Dozens of torches flickering in the distance, held by men in crimson armor as well as soldiers and monks. The display was captivating in it's own right and many watched as this massive assembly of imperial warriors came marching from the courtyards of the spire and spread off in different direction. The noises grew louder and the lights ever brighter and all people could do was stand. And wait. And look in terror as they came through the night.

"My brave countrymen, my brothers in faith, tonight I come bearing dreadful news to you all"

The first house the soldiers reached was a shout building, two stories in height with moderate appearance. The door was broken down without consent of the owner and a group of five soldiers came through, their armor crimson or adorned with a red sash. A woman, sitting behind a counter of polished stones, stood up in protest and asked what was going on. The soldiers paid no attention and fiercely searched the property, overturning furniture and pushing aside any person in their way. One of them came across a bead veil and passed through it without a sign of decency. The woman tried to push him away from entering, only to find that her strength was no enough to halt him. On the other side of the veil was the scent of exotic incenses and several scantily clad women experiencing some augmented form of euphoria as they kept several men company.

The empire had developed a recent taste for brothels but they were not allowed in cities like the Arbiter's Grounds because of its divine status. The incense was also contraband, used only for religious ceremonies and divination of the clergy. The soldier turned back from the veiled room and grabbed the woman, pushing her to the ground as her hands were bound in rope and dragged out of her building. More soldiers would grab the prostitutes and patrons in a similar fashion after marking the door of the building with black pitch.

"On this night the sinful forces of the heretics who have invaded our divine lands have struck against us like the cowards they are"

Another structure was an apartment structure, four stories high and well garnished on the outside. Inside it was filled with dozens of residents in conditions that left room for much improvement. Several soldiers stormed in with groups of two and three, breaking down doors and rushing into personal dwells accompanied by the sounds of screaming and surprise. In this particular building, many people were only troubled by intrusions and their homes ransacked as the soldiers looked through and searched. Some resisted only to be subdued and carried away. Others were dragged off for the ownership of contraband. And the rest were taken without a reason why.

As the bound were taken outside, they were rounded up into a large group and escorted to the center plaza of the Arbiter's Ground, a location that usually held the largest business district in the capital. As the scared masses looked around, they saw the same sights as they did while they were being detained happening in every house and business they could see. The cries of the people grew louder and louder as the marching came closer.

"It is because we have allowed ourselves to fall into the depths of sin, to forsake the ways we know for falsehoods and lies"

A man was walking down the street when he noticed the soldiers coming closer, a group of 3 coming quickly at his person. Without warning, they cornered the man and inspected him, asking him question one after the other without so much as a breath in between. The man, startled and confused tried his best to answer his interrogators despite his fear and his trouble with the native language. It was unanimously decided from his pauses and broken speech that he was to be detained and carried away like so many others. Just the wrong place at the wrong time.

"But I swear to you, the time to strike wretchedness has come and we can start back on the road to salvation"

Many evaded their captors, running for wherever they could go throughout the streets of the Arbiter's Ground. Four escapees ran for their lives, heading to their destination in confidence that they headed towards safety. Their steps were loud as they stomped on the earth to gain momentum, hoping that their frenzy was not in vain as so many others had been apprehended. They're goal was the northern gate, the main entrance to the capital and their ticket out of the city. One looked behind him, finding no pursuer of any kind and smiled in defiance. Almost clear. Almost safe. As he turned around, he joined the other three of the escapees in the stark realization that their efforts were in vain.

All paths in and out of the capital had been sealed by the debris. Striving to escape still, he began to climb the shattered rocks, hoping to ascend from the streets and trek over to freedom. It was by that time that the crimson guard had found the wayward runaways, quickly subduing them and sending them towards the plaza. But the man who had decided to climb did not look back as the cries of the others resounded in his ear. They were here. He needed to flee. As he attempted to climb a large piece of the shattered gate, he felt a sting in his leg. A crossbow bolt had penetrated him and disabled him from climbing further. Even still, he continued only to be permanently halted by another bolt to the back. He went limb at that point, falling to his defeat.

"Tonight, I will rely on all of you to purge evil from the city of the goddess! Tonight I ask for you to take arms for the glory of the empire!"

The masses were herded like cattle, their crimes addressed to priest and inquisitors alike and given one of three fates.

Option 1: To be detained for a short time and released promptly after matters involving suspicions had been resolved.

Option 2: To be detained for an undisclosed period of time regardless of suspicions.

Option 3: To be executed promptly and publicly.

Much like the nature of the plaza, the people were quickly assessed and examined for the nature of their crimes and appearances and were sent off in various directions as if they were goods being shipped and sold. A troop of a dozen crimson guard members marched in a box formation, the Grand Marshal himself within their ranks as he looked over what he had done. Despite the tragic circumstance that had damaged the city so greatly, the ex-general Shadow could not have aided Solomon's purge any better. Sealing off the city with guards would only work if they were not overpowered. But it is seldom that you see a riot overpower a pile of large debris. As Solomon was secured, he addressed the people as those who were under Option 3 were being lined up in rows with guards behind them.

"People, I come before you now on this night because for too long you have had to tolerate such indignant heretics roaming the streets of the goddess!" Solomon called out, silencing the masses.

"Look at them, tell me what you see! Whores and panderers! Murders and Villains!" Because of the likes of them, our nation has fallen into chaos! It is THEM who have damaged the city and set flame to your homes! It is THEM who have forced my hand to remove you so forcefully from your homes this night and riddle you all with fear. I do not take pleasure in what I have done to those of you who have remained faithful to the goddess and with my solemn apologies I beg your forgiveness. BUT THERE ARE SOME FEARS THAT CANNOT BE FORGOTTEN AND IT IS BECAUSE OF THIS THAT I MUST DO WHAT YOU SEE BEFORE YOU!"

He looked over to the assorted "heretics" who had been lined up and forced to their knees. They were all terrified, crying and shouting with tears welling up in their eyes. Solomon brandished his grotesque saber and raised it high above himself, signaling the crimson guards to raise their blades. There were those who remained silent, those who pleaded in vain and those who just cried and in the end they were silenced by the sword. Those who witnessed the brutal execution of that row of heretics cried out, aghast at the display of murder and bloodletting.

"This is the sacrifice we must make for the glory of our nation. These people had made their choices and they chose to betray the goddess and serve themselves and their wants! Tonight I take you into hell only for the sake of reaching a future that is paradise!"

The true horror was not that people were being rounded up. Detained. Murdered publicly and without shame. Forced to witness their blood spilling onto the grounds of the plaza. No. The true horror was not these things. It was that Solomon meant every word that he said that night. He did not deal is lies. His determination to eradicate every and all things that stood against him and the goddess was real. And it shook the very city that night as people were lined up and executed for their heretical sins against a goddess whom only existed in the mind of Solomon. As people were dragged off to prisons to be detained, they left their processing with the sounds and sights of the Crimson Guard slaying sinners in the streets and the memories of the marching torch lights that descended upon them and their neighbors. The blood sword of the Grand Marshal, that sickly looking blade did join the executions and drank the blood of its victims and all the while Solomon laughed in delight as he felt salvation was coming ever closer with every swing of his blade.

[JRPomazon]

OoC: And now, the Calatia side of the story.


The icy snow crunched underneath his feet as Jordan headed away from the lodge and headed a few steps back the way he started. It was more open, less obstructions, less distractions. The wind from before had died down, the mountain felt much more hospitable because of it but he was still tired from everything that had happened today. Eventually, he stopped in his tracks and slammed the bundle into the snow, the ice holding his weapons in place as he reached in and grabbed a spear. He pulled out one of the artifact spears, it's pale uniform appearance quickly switching to that of the black spear as he grasped the weapon firmly in his hands.

Underneath the full moon, everything was shades of black, white and blue, the weapon he held heavily contrasting the snow beneath his feet. His mind began to trace memories and bring them back into view, the warning that Juvenal gave him about using the two spears in perfect balance to avoid disaster. That warning was proved true when the fiend attempted to use one of his spears against him, when the white spear became almost impossible to yield and flew from his hands while the black spear attempted to rend him asunder. As he held the enchanted pole arm in his grasp, Jordan was afraid. What would happen to a man when wielding this weapon by itself? What was the riddle? What was there to be afraid of?

Jordan swung the spear in the air, imitating battle. Nothing. He swung again. Nothing. He practiced finer moves with the barbaric weapon, turning it from it's spear blade to the forked prong ends and stabbing the night air with rapid precision. It was an exhibition of his talents, if not for himself or the spear than for the moon hanging in the sky. But nothing came from the spear. It wasn't like the time with Synile, no pain or nausea now. Was it not the black spear Jordan was to be afraid of after all? Jordan quickly raised the pole arm in from of him, holding the weapon with one hand as he looked at it underneath the moonlight. Another memory came back from the time in the Labyrinth, when Juvenal mocked him as he gave him his weapons:

"I gave you both these spears for balance Gale Emperor. I doubted you'd appreciate my charity, but to think you'd fail to recognize it?" Junvenal said, lowering his hand.

Jordan looked at the spears together. They looked differently when he first saw them, he was almost certain of it. He placed them both on the ground and sure enough, they both took on the exact same appearance once he let them go. Confused, Jordan did not know what exactly to make of this. Picking both of them up again, Jordan witnessed their transformation in his hands.

"You cannot have one without the other Gale Emperor, I offered you both for you own safety." Juvenal said, crossing his arms to reaffirm his superiority.

"Safety? It wasn't that long ago you told me that you didn't care whether or not I lived or died. What's with 'safety' all of the sudden?" Jordan asked. His irritation for the fiend grew as the demon smugly lorded over him.

"You had a choice and you chose to join these people in their greatest hour of need even while you knew that those you left behind would most likely meet a harsh future because of it, those comrades from windfall." Junvenal replied.

"Your abandonment of them, your 'betrayal' is also your 'trust' that they will succeed in the end."

Jordan stared at Junvenal, almost ready to use his own spears against him.

"Don't lecture me, I've never betrayed anyone."

Junvenal smiled, chuckling to himself. Jordan turned away, tired of this conversation.

His grasp grew weak and he dropped the spear from his hand and quickly fell to the snowy ground. It was pain, the nausea from before had come back. What was happening, why now? The pain was magnified with every passing second, as if every bone in his body was being forcibly ripped from him. He howled in pain, the loudest he could remember screaming. From every pore of his body something began to sweat out of him, a dark vapor that crept like a shadow underneath the moon and formed around the black spear that he had discarded in the snow. Though his body was in immense pain, Jordan looked on as something was ripping through him and gathering around the spear. The pain had reached a zenith and when it had grown to be so unbearable that the whirlwind spear had almost wished for his own death, it stopped instantly as the last of the shadow had passed through him. He panted on the grown as he saw the shapeless mass instantly take a solid form.

He saw a pair of boots matching his own as his face rested in the snow. He slowly got to his feet as the ice slide off of him when he rose above the ground. As he stood, he looked on with shock and confusion as the form before him was none other . . .




than himself. Adorned in his old green armor from Sornaiid, this doppelganger stood before Jordan with no discolorations, no physical alterations or deviations in any sense save for the armor it wore. The man held the black spear and looked at Jordan with stern, cold eyes.

"I've never betrayed anyone." It said, sounding like Jordan perfectly.

"Those are the worlds you said. The words you choose to tell the world."

It raised the black spear at Jordan, making his intentions clear.

"And I am the product of the lies you've fed yourself for all these years."

The dobbelganger thrust his spear at Jordan, rapidly jabbing to strike the original who was wearing nothing but a cloak and wool and cotton garbs underneath.

"Is this the power of Cain Kazen?" Jordan asked as he retreated back to the bundle of spears.

"Did the spear do this? Create you?"

"No." The dobbelganger replied, stabbing the wind in front of him to create a gust to knock the bundle of spears away from Jordan as he attempted to call them out into the air.

"You did."

The dobbelganger dashed after Jordan, brandishing his vicious weapon.

[Sir Deimos]

The whole night after his encounter with Tsume, Synile had been lost in thought. Instead of dining with the others, his supper was the liquor he brought with him. In an empty room to the far back of the lodge Synile drained the fluid from his supply. I desperately need to find a way to travel comfortably with more than one bottle.

"They say those that hide within the bottle are merely trying to run."

"Shut up. I drink to drown you out."

"Oh shut the fuck up. You really think you can lie to yourself? I know you." Synile turned around. The room was dark. There were no fires of any kind. The only light source was the window. The light of the full moon flooded in through. In the corner of the room, Synile could barely make out the image of a man, lurking in the shadows. The figure wore the shadows like a cloak, with blood red eyes piercing the darkness.

"No. Of course. Tonight would be the night that you do this to me." Synile didn't sound worried. The being cackled.

"You do this to yourself. Although I must admit... I do enjoy it."

"So what? Am I supposed to admit that you're me and you go away?"

"Hahahah... Hardly. I'm not the shadow. This isn't merely a psychology lesson... And as long as you continue to love me... I'll continue to dote upon you. You carry my blessings." Synile threw the bottle at the figure. The glass shattered, but did little else. "Why travel with them anyway?"

"Why ask questions if you already know the answer."

"So... you see your former self somewhere in him. And you just need to prove to yourself that deep down everyone can become as twisted as you. That's not what people do. Not what HUMANS do anyway. You've discarded your humanity years ago. We both know the monster that even you try to keep at bay..."

"I... That's not you?"

"Hahahaha. I'm on your side. To me it doesn't matter which you is in control. I am merely the sword you bring to battle. I can only cut what you tell me." The figure faded from the corner, and laughter filled the air. As to whether this was a laughter only Synle could hear, he couldn't say.

"Make no mistake. The monster is coming. And the more you try and repress, the more tenacious it gets."

[Egann]

Egann's yank at the bars confirmed his fears. Four minutes after starting his desperate scramble to escape, after breaking his belt's buckle in a vain attempt to pick the lock, after destroying his boot-laces trying to make a lasso reach his sword laying on the table on the other side of the room, and after failing to find a way to conceal himself in the cell to make it look like he had escaped, he was reduced to yanking at the bars like a wild animal. A thoroughly futile gesture, seeing how the bars were clearly embedded into the masonry, not just superimposed on it.

Explosions rumbled in the distance, growing closer too quickly to respond--not like any good response was possible inside a cell--before silence. Silence save a deep ringing in Egann's ears as masonry liquefied into a boiling cascade and the iron bars bent.

Egann cursed and blessed Shadow at the same time. On the one hand, Arbiter's Spire hadn't been part of the arrangement--the objective was to quarantine Solomon's ire, not to trigger it--but thanks to Shadow, Egann's fish wouldn't get fried today. He slipped through the bent bars, snagged his shirt and sword from the sliding table, then threw his weight against the great wooden door blocking his path. The hinges--weakened from holding such a massive door still as the rest of the building jarred around it--didn't take much persuasion before giving, allowing the massive door to fall forward.


Gwen stopped at a hand sticking out of a pile of debris and started hefting the bricks off the poor man. He coughed slightly as she continued to disenter him.

"I guess this is it for me..." he sighed. His eyes were having problems focusing, like it took him more effort than he was used to. They went from crisply focused to a vacant stare and back again.

"You may as well not bother," Gervais cut in. "After blasts like that, this will be the norm."

Gwen ignored Gervais. "No, no," she said as she smoothed the inquisitor's hair. "You'll be fine." She started to cut his inquisitor's uniform off to see the butt end of a broken torch had been rammed through his torso just below the arm pit.

"Tell my--"he started coughing violently before hacking up a shapeless lump. He tried to finish his thought, but his voice only managed an indescernable wheeze before he pushed a note into Gwen's hand as he slumped over.

Gwen sat still for a moment before closing the man's eyes and looking at the note. Instantly she recognized Shadow's handwriting--a list of some sort--but she only had time to read Gervais' name before he snatched it away from her.

"What is it?" She asked.

Gervais' eyes widened as he read the note. "...Some list of people to invite to some party or something." His fingers twitched toward ripping the note, but then he seemed to remember Gwen was watching. "I'll take care of it," he said as he stuffed it into his pocket.

[Goose]

A warm fire does much to warm the soul, and to burn the toes if you sit too close to it. Jara's toes weren't crispy yet, but they were on their way if he didn't move a bit. The people surrounding him, all around this building, were lost in their own worlds, in their minds fighting their own demons. The girl was asleep, dreaming of different times and places. She needed her rest; Much pain was ahead of her. Jara decided to take leave of the room, and go for a walk outside. But on his way outside, he noticed how cold and dark it was, and decided that rather than go outside, the fire was the place to be again. His soul needed warmth. As darkness crept through the land, and creatures crawled through neighborhoods, one couldn't help but get the chills and thrills -the closer to midnight the worse it was.

The hope of them all was long gone, and now left were a pack of lonely travelers together and alone at the same time.


Alone.

[JRPomazon]

Jordan dove to the ground, crashing face first into the snow as the doppelganger attempted to skewer him with the Cain Kazen's jagged black blade. Turning the spear around to its end, the armored double thrust the two pronged fork at Jordan, the strike narrowly missing as the original Jordan quickly rolled on his side to evade. The spear caught his cloak, forcibly tearing it from his person as he escaped to a safer distance. He needed to get to his spears if he was going to have any chance of living through this. However, his double had no intention of allowing Jordan to chance to gain any sort of ground in this fight as was quickly upon as he leaped into the air and came crashing down, plunging his spear into the ground as a windy shock wave sent Jordan off his feet and on his back several feet away.

This continued disadvantage had to stop. As the doppelganger forcibly removed his spear from the icy ground it was plunged into, Jordan took that brief moment to call on one of his other weapons, waving his hand up as the wind sent one of his normal spears to his hand. Just as he placed both hands on the weapon, he felt the sudden push from his double, the black spear pressing against his own polearm as he attempted to fend off his enemy's strength.

"What . . . the hell . . ." Jordan said, grunting as his double attempted to push him back.

"Why are you doing this? If you're capable of speak . . . then you should at least be able to capable of reason!"

The doppelganger appeared stern, his face the picture of stern, a quiet ferocity brimming with resentment. His eyes were set on going in for the kill like an assassin in the night. Jordan quickly pushed him back, switching to the offensive and thrust his spear at his double. The doppelganger evaded the attack with ease and at no time at all retook the offensive as he swung Cain Kazen low to the ground to create a gust of wind to toss the snow into the air and create a veil to hide behind. Jordan leaped back, reaching out to summon another spear into his grasp. From the light snow falling back down to the earth, the double dashed through in order to take advantage of the confusion and plunge the spear's blade into Jordan. Unable to call upon his second spear in light of this, Jordan leaped to the side and retook his spear with both hands.

"Answer me, damn you!" Jordan said, raising his spear as the double attempted to strike him again from above.

Once again pushing against each other, a light gust blew from the clashing spears scattering the powdery snow knocked free from its crushed icy crust in all directions.

"So now you are willing to acknowledge me?" The double said, breaking the silence.

"Yes, I acknowledge the fact that you are trying to kill me!" Jordan replied wryly, pushing his opponent back and leaping backwards to gain distance from him. Unable to enjoy Jordan's sense of humor, the double quickly dashed to close the distance between them and swung his spear up, knocking Jordan's spear out of his hands and disarming him.

"Do you think you are being cute?" He asked as he raised Cain Kazen's blade to Jordan, wide eyed with surprise as he found himself helpless.

"It's unbelievable that a fraud like you has been running around all this time, gallivanting like some sort of wayward vagabond looking for the next distraction, the next indulgence as he shrugs off the rest of the world."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Jordan asked.

"You're the fraud! You think you can take my face, my armor, my identity and criticize the way I live!? You're nothing more than a fabrication created by that spear to kill me off!"

Within moments, Jordan was rearmed with his spear called back by the wind with a flick of his wrist and attacked his double. Evading the strike and backing away, the doppelganger quickly regains a proper stance as fury begins to take hold of his cool persona.

"You are so blind to everything, aren't you!? It's amazing how you think I'm the villain here and you're the blameless one!" The double shouted.

"I've done nothing wrong! I've fought to save my homeland from the grips of Lazu's power! I've fought demons and evil men alike to protect and save what I hold dear!" Jordan replied. Without anymore hesistation, he leaped into the air as far as he could, a blast of wind so immense from the wake of his launch that it almost pushed his double over. The doppelganger saw this and followed suit, taking to the skies after the original Jordan. The two of them accelerated to new heights, meeting as silhouettes in front of the moon in the sky. Their weapons clashed, the black spear locked against Jordan's as the two of them began their descent back towards the earth below. The wind blowing against them fiercely as they plummeted, the both of them locked in combat as they span towards certain death.

"I've saved this! I've done that! All excuses you hide behind so you can pat yourself on the back and feel good about your half fulfilled promises!" The double accused, not carrying that his insult was delivered during the middle of their fall.

Jordan pushed himself away from the double, landing hard in the soft snow separately from his bitter enemy. Silence fell on the field as the scattered powder of the snow danced in the air, shining in the moonlight before falling softly down to the ground again. Jordan slowly got up, his body sore from the fall. His double stood in the snow, appearing unharmed after the experience.

"You talk so big and when the time comes to help anyone out, you're not there when they need you the most. You pathetic little bastard, I should kill you right where you stand." He said, judging Jordan.

"But it's not that you can't do it. It's not that you don't have the strength. After all this time, that is the one thing we can both agree you have. It's because you just don't want to and you don't care who suffers because of your selfishness."

"You son of a bitch . . ." Jordan said, slowly grabbing his spear from the ground.

"You think . . . I'm some sort of sadist or something? You think I enjoy seeing the people I care about get hurt? How dare you . . ."

Jordan dashed at full speed, brandishing his spear ready to run through his double. But as quickly as it was that he built up speed, the doppelganger delivered a quickly swing of Cain Kazen, slashing Jordan diagonally from his shoulder to his waste. His cotton/wool garb did not protect him the same way his armor used to. Losing control of his speed and the wind accelerating him, Jordan crashes into the snow once more, staining the white powder with his blood. The double looked down at his with disdain, completely unimpressed by his display. He rests the tip of the black spear's blade against his neck.

"I was kind, the wound won't kill you." He said, lifting Cain Kazen from Jordan's neck.

Without another word or judgement, the doppelganger turned around and began walking down the mountain. Jordan, struggling to get back on his feet despite his wound grunted and shouted in pain.

"WAIT!" He screamed. The double stopped.

"We're not- We're not done here! Don't you go anywhere . . . not until I clean your clock, you bastard."

Jordan, using his spear as a support, managed to get to his feet. He was panting heavily, the pain and the cold were agonizing.

"Always about you, isn't it?" The doppelganger replied.

"Always about the things you want, the things you care about. Have you ever considered the feelings and wishes of anyone beside yourself?"

The double turned around and began to walk away.

"No, of course not."

Underneath that moonlit sky, Jordan stood as he watched himself walk away from the battle carrying the black spear which had been covered in his blood. Holding onto his spear for dear life as he wobbled and crept back towards his fallen cloak and his remaining weapons, despair began to take hold of the wind-blessed warrior. Eventually, his strength did wane and in a brief moment of weakness, he collapsed face first into the snow.

Edited by JRPomazon, 24 July 2011 - 12:29 AM.

[Ken the Wandering Soul]

Three people stood by the corpse of a giant snake in an otherwise unremarkable field. One was a green-armored spearman, fists clenched in frustration at the state of his comrade, a young boy who had suffered an injury to his leg. The third was a stranger, a white-haired young man, tending to the boy's wounds.

The sun had almost finished setting when the first man finally asked the question.

"Hey, what's your name?"

The white-haired young man halted for a moment. The question almost seemed to disturb him.

"Call me Wanderer."

~ * ~

And despite all that had happened since then, regaining all of his name, all that he knew, ever since the Cataclysm he seemed to barely be more than that now. The name Ken Miyamasa II no longer held meaning. Now he was simply Ken, a wandering soul.

Ken watched, unmoving, as the surreal battle of a man against his previous self played out. Though the wind moved about to their whims, shaking the trees and kicking up snow, the white-haired man never moved from his spot, watching with a detached calm.

It was not until the green-armored one walked away that Ken found the need to move from his spot. He paced over to the face down Jordan, his feet crunching the moonlit snow. Halting over the tired wind warrior's body, he knelt down to look closer. In the low light of the night, Ken's long hair and mask almost made him look like a true animal.

Ken reached a hand out to the wind warrior and rolled him face up to look over the wound that crossed Jordan's chest. A nasty cut, but Ken knew he had suffered worse.

Well, Ken thought to himself, what sort of consequence has a brought us together this time?




OOC: JRP, I was not sure how to progress beyond this point without a clarification. Is Jordan unconscious or just lacking the will to move?

[Goose]

As Jara sat by the fire, he heard an echo of laughter in the wind outside, like a madman returning to his post. He huddled closer to the fire, it was not going to happen, not again.

[JRPomazon]

OoC: Ken, just just go with the idea that he is conscious but unable to move.

Edited by JRPomazon, 25 July 2011 - 11:26 PM.

[Goose]

Imagine a thought. Now think that thought, and imagine it as a different thought. Now that second thought, can now capture your imagination and take you somewhere else. That's where we're going.

Somewhere else, just for a short time. follow me. I'll lead the way.



There has long been a myth, that was rooted in truth, about a bard, who could make the spine shiver so much it would shed its skin. This bard died young, thanks to the anger of a king, and was reborn, did some stuff, died again, and then was brought back one more time. He accomplished his quest and was laid to rest in peace. The end; a story with fireworks. The older kids love to hear it. It makes them squirm, and then they know that it ends in the right kind of way. But in this other place, this new place, things have changed. People are different, some would say much more advanced and scientific, and the power of the bard has been ignored. Now they stare at a screen. In this new place, people are able to use a device that is able to capture a moment in time, an emotion, an image, and capture it on paper, much like an artist would create an impression of a person. The thing that makes this different is that its not the artists impression, but the actual moment in time that is captured, the thought, the anger, the love and the hatred.


The hatred is captured in time.


It stays there.


They think this is a new technology that they invented. These people are so vain that they claim they have all rights to songs and images, and make money off those images, songs and stories; They turn entertainment into a business.


But they did not invent this technology. It was always there, just waiting in the shadows, for somebody to use it again.


Like they did before, but back then it was called something else.




Magic.

Real magic.


Its always been there. In this place that nobody looks. In the moonlight. In between the moonlight. Underneath the moonlight. Inside out the moonlight.
It is there, which is here. Now. It is here now. Just as it was yesterday, will be tomorrow and was the day in the middle of last week.
It is where the story, the song, the dance, the play, the love and the laughter live. The place that isn't but is at the same time. It can never exist but always has.
It is the home of war, of battle, of anger and lust. Of greed, jealousy and nothing just.
It is the home of joy, giggles, grace and mercy. Of longing looks into the soul; so perfect.

It simply is.


And these things that are always there, aren't always content to hide in the background unnoticed. Like an angry thought, like a thought of hatred. The thought of a Bard wronged by his king, and like the bard himself, the thought will not stand for being lost in the beginning of a tale, only to be overtaken by a story that ends in happy little fireworks; all nicely wrapped up. No. this thought will escape the story and enter the heart of the open minded one, the one who takes the time to stop and listen to the in between.


And create all sorts of havoc.

[Ken the Wandering Soul]

After he made note of the wound, Ken continued to look for other details of Jordan. He still breathed pretty hard, and his eyes seemed half open. Not knocked out then.

Ken looked back to reconsider the wound itself. While the cold slowed the bleeding, to stay there indefinitely would obviously have been ill-advised. As he considered possibilities, Ken noticed the spear that Jordan had fallen with, and remembered the bundle that had been set in the snow, along with the cloak.

Ken stood up, making the short trek necessary to retrieve the cloak and bundle. Returning the spare spear to the bundle, Ken set about tightly wrapping Jordan's midsection with the cloak, trying to block any further bleeding. Such a process necessitated propping Jordan up, a position that Jordan seemed unable to retain in his state.

As he looked back to the cabin, Ken sighed. Now to get him inside. Rolling Jordan into a position where he could be more easily carried, Ken crouched down and put Jordan's arm around his back, while he reached an arm around Jordan's. He tried to drag Jordan along in this way, but the weight was hard to pull alone. He needed Jordan to at least take some steps so that he did not drag his legs.

Ken turned his masked face to Jordan as he attempted to vocalize what he wanted Jordan to do. For a while though his throat produced nothing more than a low growl, his vocal chords seemed to have forgotten what it was like to produce words. He did eventually manage to produce a proper syllable.

"Walk," his voice rumbled.

Jordan did not seem to understand or hear him though, so Ken spoke again.

"Walk."

Edited by Ken the Wandering Soul, 26 July 2011 - 07:36 AM.

[JRPomazon]

It was to understand anything, everything was meshing together in his head. Consciousness blending and bleeding like fresh water colors. But he did hear something as he felt his body get tugged around and moved.

"Walk."

His eyes began to open a little after that, but his body felt too heavy to respond to him. Everything just felt too heavy. The confusion, the frustration, the cold, the fact that everything was losing whatever sense it had.

Then he heard it again.

"Walk."

His mind began to wander into more depressing thoughts but every time after, he would just hear the same word repeating in his head.

"Walk."

He slowly raised his foot and firmly planted it on the snow. Then the other. And again. He just moved his legs, not paying any mind to anything else. Keep walking. Don't stop walking.

The two trekked through the snow and headed back towards the lodge, to rest and retire from life for a while. The frustrations would lay dormant till morning, that was inevitable. But so be it.

[Ken the Wandering Soul]

The lodge door creaked open, some cold air attempted to come in along with the two souls who came inside before the door was again shut. The lit hearth immediately drew Ken's attention, noting the person who sat rather close to the fire, before he noticed the unoccupied pile of pelts and blankets that Jordan and occupied before the night's events.

Setting Jordan down there and covering him up to let him rest with some warmth, Ken found a corner not too far away from the fire, and sat down. He resumed the meditative position he had previously assumed outside and allowed his consciousness to start to slip into sleep.

[SL the Pyro]

Once they had put a fair distance between themselves and the Arbiter's Grounds and made it into the barren deserts of Koridai, the ex-soldiers and ex-general had adopted a more leisurely pace of travel. For the time being at least, they didn't have to fear any sort of reprisal. The devastation caused by the dynamyte would restrict travel from the capital for a good, long while, and whatever means of communication they had would reach the recipient for days either. While they were still moving, this was a good opportunity to relax.

Or at least try to.

Despite telling them not to look back, Shadow wasn't taking the recent developments as well as he has hoped he would. It was true, by sealing off the Arbiter's Grounds, Solomon would be unable to "purge" his whole nation for a good few weeks or so. But what of the people within the Arbiter's Grounds? Solomon would no doubt take out his frustrations on those poor souls. And thanks to him, they couldn't possibly escape now.

"What's wrong, Sir?" Nia sounded concerned.

Shadow sighed and shook his head. "It's nothing... I'm just thinking..."

"About Koridai?"

"...Yeah." he admitted. Far be it for him to lie to his most trusted comrades. "I'm know I'm going to sound like a complete hypocrite, but... I just wish there was something more we could've done."

There wasn't a whole lot she could say to that. Jakob, who was holding the reigns of the horses driving the chariot, had some words however. "I know how you feel. I at least would've wanted to warn the townspeople and give them a chance to leave ahead of time..."

"If only it were that simple... I'm fairly sure Lieutenant Egann would've brought up the idea if it were." Simon added. "Think about it: there were guards watching over all the city exits twenty four-seven, no one would've been able to leave. And even if they could, do you think they would've believed our story?"

Everyone was silent with thought for a minute.

"...Of course not." Shadow replied finally. "Solomon is the closest thing they have to their 'Goddess' right now. Anyone who dared to speak against him would be labelled a heretic." That bold, unnamed soldier who tried to stand up to him during the announcement of Marshal Law came to mind. "Their choice to stay in Koridai was their own. During that gap in time after Chikara disappeared but before Solomon took control, they had more than enough time to think about leaving."

It was the ironic truth. Their faith in Chikara was what bound them to the capital. Now they were going to see what it gained them...

"What do you suppose happened to the Goddess anyway? After she left for the Labyrinth?" Ryu wondered.

"Ugh, I haven't a damn clue..." Jakob replied with distaste. "There were so many rumours flying around back there."

"Well... what if I told you that's why I'm heading to Calatia?"

All eyes were on Shadow now.

"Think about it. No Koridians returned from the battle at the Labyrinth. Given how long it's been since then, it's safe to assume victory went to the Calatian side..."

Nia began to understand his reasoning. "...Which means they might know what really happened to her."

"Exactly. Koridai is on a downward spiral without really knowing what became of Chikara. The only thing that could really save our nation now is the truth about what happened to her."

The concept seemed sound enough. Knowledge of this would give the people reason to either keep their faith or to move on with their lives.

"And you really think they'll give us information about the Goddess willingly?" Simon inquired.

Shadow scoffed. "I wish. More than likely we'll have to get crafty. But it's not like we have any other leads... if anyone knows what became of Chikara, it's them."

"...Fair enough, I guess. I just hope we have a plan by the time we get there..." Oh Simon, always such a pessimist.

"Sir? May I ask you something?" Nia said.

"Just 'Shadow' now, please. And certainly."

"Umm... don't take this the wrong way, but..." She seemed to be nervous about he question. "What did you honestly think of the Goddess?"

He raised an eyebrow. "How do you mean?"

"Well, it's just... you've never once referred to her by her title, at least not seriously. Umm... I know that's not unusual for you or anything, but I just get this... venom from you whenever you talk about her." she tried to explain. "Am I imagining things?"

Shadow closed his eyes, pressing the bridge of his nose. He knew this would happen eventually. "No... it's not your imagination. I'll be honest, I don't like that woman and more than I can throw her."

"Why?" Nia asked him. "I'm not trying to insinuate anything, but... what did she ever do to you?"

"...She destroyed my old home."

The silence quickly turned tense.

"O-oh... I see..."

The ex-general let out a heavy sigh. "Maybe, now that we're no longer part of the Koridian Army... I should be honest with you all." he addressed everyone. "I didn't just join Koridai because it was the hip thing to do, or because a living Goddess had descended and claimed hallowed ground for herself... between Chikara and Selena, I lost everything that I ever cared about. No, the only reason I joined Koridai was to join the strongest side... so I'd have a better chance of exacting revenge on them both..."

And so he began to tell his intently-listening comrades his life story... while the carriage rode through the night...

Edited by SL the Pyro, 07 August 2011 - 12:53 AM.

[JRPomazon]

The night was one devoid of dreams and morning did not appear when Jordan finally came back from his sleep. He laid on cushioned floor, his cloak wrapped over his boy staring at the ceiling of the lodge in stillness. When he didn't move, it didn't hurt. To be frank, he didn't feel very motivated to move either. The only thing he could think of was what happened the other night, the vivid memories of his battle with himself. His wound was still raw, the sting was rather sharp. He looked over to his side, finding Eivor, Jara and Tsume resting together, completely unaware of what happened last night. He tried to look over, looking at the shape of the man who saved his life. A stranger in an animal mask . . . Calatian?

It was the large sword that revealed his savior from the other night, resting close by it's master. Ken, in a human form no less. Jordan turned back to the ceiling, surprised and relieved to be in good company. His memories drifted again, thinking of the other night, about other things that resurfaced.

-Sornaiid, Two Years Ago-

"There's going to be a battle soon . . ."

"A battle?"

"Against the Alliance. There are some people aiming to put them under. I'll be leaving tomorrow to join them."

"Why? Why are you going to fight the Alliance? What have they done?"

"It's not just me. It's a coalition of the domains, the Fortress, the Woods and Ikana are going to take part as well. I've been called to help."

"But why? You don't need to endanger yourself, surely they have a force strong enough without you."

"I have friends who are going to be fighting in this together. I refuse to be a coward and abandon them after all they did for us. I've made up my mind and I'm leaving first thing tomorrow morning."

". . ."

"Listen, you don't know what I saw back there at the Eagle's Talons. It was horrible! The people, the land, everything was-"

"And you took care of it, didn't you? Played the hero and saved that day, right? That's why you're here, that's why you always show up here! Because you always get banged up and then you crash here like I've got nothing better to do than tend to your injuries and then let you run off again!

"Where is this coming from? That's hardly even fair and it's not true!"

"Oh yeah? Really? Then explain it to me, what's going on Jordan?"

"I . . . you know what, forget it."

"No! Don't puss out on the question! You can at least EXPLAIN why you are running off!"

"I'm not just running off! I have to be there! I have to make sure what happened at the Eagle's Talons doesn't happen again! I'm not some punk picking fights anymore, I'm going off to help make this world a better place!"

"Then can't you start here?! Can't you just stay put and be where I need you? Why do you always run away just to get beat up and half to death and come back here? Why!?"

". . ."

"Damn it to hell Jordan! Can't you at least give me an answer!? I need you here . . . just as much as they do . . ."

Jordan fell back to sleep, no sense staying awake at this hour.

Edited by JRPomazon, 01 August 2011 - 01:46 AM.

[Sir Deimos]

Synile watched through the window in his private room as the sun slowly crept above the horizon. It bathed the area in an intensely bright light. The snow shimmered beneath the rays, and seemed to lend a sense of purity to the lands surrounding the Calatian mountain.

"Bullshit." Synile spat. "It's all so serene and peaceful until you can see beneath the surface." The further they'd trek from the base of the mountain, the less snow they would see. Less soft and fluffy white burial mounds. The landscape betrayed the dead buried beneath. Or perhaps... it glistened on top because of the dead beneath. Maybe the purity of the lands reflected their desires.

A pain shot through Synile's chest. It was all he could do to clutch his chest and brace himself against the wall opposite the window. The attacks were coming more frequently, and were growing in severity. Some place within himself, he secretly hoped that one of these pains would grow into a heart attack to end his life. Split into two halves, each loathing the other, Synile felt tired. One half of his personality was weary of violence, tired of murder, and loathed the monstrous reputation he had gained. The other half was proud of the death his hands had wrought, and longed to see more blood. In his unnaturally long life, Synile had stumbled upon one simple fact. There is nothing like watching the blood drain from a living human. It's intoxicating. The emotions that take hold of a person in the moments before their life ends, that is the sweetest gift. It's all so poetically beautiful. You get to watch as they realize what it was they valued most, and see as they realize they'll never see that again.

For some it's children. Wives. Brothers. Or perhaps something simple. Food. Baths. The frost in the morning autumn air. The sound of cicadas in the blistering summer heat. In their last moments each man realizes what true beauty is. World weary Synile longs to discover what is truly beautiful to him. What will he miss when the sands of time finally empty from his hourglass? It certainly wouldn't be people. The only people he cared for have scattered. Selena and Chikara just left him upon this continent, content to follow their own dreams, leaving him behind like an unwanted child. For a cruelly long amount of time those two made up a large portion of Synile's life. The war against Chikara pained him much more than even he was willing to admit. And now the two largest pieces of himself have been forcibly extracted.

This was a new kind of void. No amount of slaughter seemed to fill this new, vast, emptiness. He secretly suspects this weakness to be the cause of his recent chest pains. His recent loss of control. No one must know. No one can see. There are none left. Synile, truly the last of his kind, a monster set upon the world with no other beasts to call his own. And now, like a wounded animal he lashes out at those in nearest proximity. Was it even possible to quell the seemingly unstoppable force beneath his skin? Would it even let him give up? After centuries what started as fighting skill has become instinct. He hardly even notices anymore. Be attacked, attack. It was fluid, always. Mostly an unconscious reaction.

Synile shook his head. No one would understand. Thinking about it is all he can do. You can't know the burden of time and it's affects on a person unless you yourself have lived as long. No children can coach the elderly in dealing with the death of all their friends. Synile clutched at the hilt of the nodachi on his back, and kicked the door to his room off the hinges. The noise should have been enough to wake the entirety of the group. His cloak's hood raised, Synile ominously tread down the hallway and looked at the humans. They had all decided to sleep within the same room. It was the desire to be close to their own kind.

Being the world's last monster, who could Synile become close to?

"Gather your things. It's first light. We're leaving."

[SL the Pyro]

Shadow's tale gave the ex-soldiers much to think about over the night. They knew about the story of the Goddess Chikara descending onto the old Alliance and the tree Dorms, tearing them asunder... but it honestly surprised the ex-general how little they knew about the details that lead up to it. How the dorms banded together to rise up against Khuffie's empire, how Selena had coordinated the massacre at Ur'Almen to draw their attention... how that massacre caused Shadow to lose his will to fight. In order to explain the story fully, Shadow had to go into some of the more personal details of it, such as how he used to be a member of both the Alliance and one of the old Dorms. He hoped they wouldn't think less of him.

It was quite the system shock for them to learn about how Chikara used to be before she even became the Goddess. Admittedly Shadow knew only what he had been told about her or what he had learned from Labyrinthine folklore, but after working under Chikara for so long, he had trouble believing that they were even the same person. The only theory he had was that Lazu's possession somehow tamed her savage spirit, which would be the ultimate irony since Lazu was an agent of chaos rather than harmony. Regardless, it was a bitter pill for his loyal comrades to swallow.

"That's the way things are, so... I'm going to have to ask you all to make a choice. That last thing I want is for you all to get wrapped up in my quest for revenge, so I'm not going to force you to come with me. It's your decision... so please think about it, long and hard, until we reach Calatia."

And so their carriage drove on, everyone taking turns holding the reigns while those without that responsibility slept. They didn't dare stop the carriage until they were out of Koridai, or the horses got tired and needed nourishment. Day would eventually break the sunlight glaring through their vehicle rousing everyone from their less-than-comfortable-but-wholly-necessary naps. It was a good thing they were used to uncomfortable sleeping conditions... probably the only good thing they learned from war: how to adapt.

The mountains of Calatia gradually rose higher above the horizon...

Edited by SL the Pyro, 05 August 2011 - 08:40 AM.

[JRPomazon]

OoC: Wee bit of manipulation of the NPC. Hope no one minds. Also Tsume, I'm going to have you come with us as a background character at least until you post again.

Within minutes, the others slowly woke up from their peaceful dreams, gathering their things up and preparing for another trek in the cold. It would be only a few more days at the least to finish the descent down but the snow would eventually thin out before they reached the base of the mountain. It was impressive that they made the distance they did. From Snowpeak to this lodge in a two and a half days and without any form of transport or magic to aid them. Jara and Eivor finished packing early since they did not carry a considerable burden and Synile had been ready long before anyone else. It was uncertain whether Tsume had anything or if he would be joining them on their expedition, there was not much talk about the destination during dinner the other night. Ken seemed to have his affects ready and in order before too long.

"Wait, who is this guy?" Eivor asked, noticing that Ken was in the room with them. A little slow on the uptake this morning. Synile slowly placed his hand to the hilt of his sword when Jordan raised his in objection to such retaliation. He got on his knee before feeling the sting of his wounds from the night before.

"No, wait. He's a friend. He's a friend of mine." He said, hoping his words were enough to call off Synile's usual eagerness to draw his blade. At least this time it seemed to be the case. Jordan grunted in pain, trying his best to keep quiet about it. However, it was to no avail.

"You alright there?" Eivor asked, walking over to inspect Jordan.

"I'm fine. I just got hurt the other night after you all went to bed. Nothing to worry about." He replied.

He didn't intend to tell anyone what happened the other night, it would lead to too many questions. Forcing himself to stand, he noticed that his wound had been treated as he felt some sort of bandage across the greater part of his chest. He looked over to Ken who was already by the door looking out. Did he treat him last night before he woke up?

"So, he'll be traveling with us then?" Eivor said, looking over to Ken.

"Yes. Don't worry, I've known him for years. We happened to catch up last night." Jordan replied.

"Small world, huh?" The girl asked.

"Yeah. Small world indeed." Jordan said, turning his attention back to his things.

He took his spear bundle and threw it over his shoulder after placing the partially tattered and bloodied cloak over himself. Some of the others looked with worry as they noticed the feint red splots over the beige wool and the uneasiness of Jordan's movements. The rest either didn't notice or didn't care. Jordan walked towards the snow. He looked over the Synile who seemed eager to leave.

"Let's get going." Jordan said, taking the lead as the others who had finished gathering their things followed behind him.

"Wait. No breakfast?" Eivor asked.

Jordan looked back.

"We finished the last of the food here, remember?" Jordan responded.

* * *

The day after the purge in the Arbiter's Grounds was as quite as the calm that came before it. No one was out in the streets save for the patrols of red clad sentries marching through the city. For those who were free to leave retreated into their homes, too afraid to go outside after all that had transpired. The others who managed to survive the night were in dingy prisons as they were held against their will until they could be proved innocent by the intrusive methods of the inquisitors and templars alike. Construction on the Spire had begun early in the morning, moving rubble away from the scene as many workers began to restore the structure to it's former glory. All this, of course, under the orders of the Grand Marshal himself.

Within the confines of the spire as the settled dust was swept away and the debris carried off, the arch inquisitors overlooked the silent city below from the stone garden where they frequented.

"I have never seen such a serenity to the Arbiter's Grounds in quite some time." Lord Darius said as he slowly ran his fingers down his beard.

"It's more like the quiet of the dead." Lord Serge responded, his voice carrying an uncertain sorrow.

"The number of casualties was immense. The body count is still going on as we speak, it's already surpassed-"

"I can't bare to hear it." Lord Marcoh interrupted, the portly man raising his hand in protest to the number.

"Please, I cannot bare to hear it."

"Do you feel guilty Marcoh?" Lucien asked, standing to the side of the other three Arch Inquisitors as they overlooked the city below.

"Don't you, Lord Lucien?" Marcoh replied, a hint of anger in his voice as he turned to his colleague.

"Is this what you had in mind for you plan? To remove the leash of that wild dog and give him a crown? Set him loose on the people?"

"I did not forsee the extent of Solomon's . . . bloodlust. Whether it was one dead versus one thousand, it matters not. All things are moving according to my design." Lucien said coldly.

"Then tell us Lord Lucien, just what else will be required for your plans to reach fruition?" Darius inquired, looked over to the arch inquisitor.

"The people now live in fear as their loved ones are either dead or imprisoned. We had made Solomon a greater enemy to the people than ever before. Now we must introduce a new salvation and with it the people will freely give themselves to us." Lucien explained.

"Now, if you will all excuse me I have matters to attend to."

Lucien left the company of the other three inquisitors, heading back into the shaken hallowed halls of the spire and into the pulse of his conspiracy.

[Ken the Wandering Soul]

Ken stared out over the horizon, it seemed to bob up and down as the ship rocked. His blade hung heavy about his shoulders, though not as heavy as the weight that had been recently born upon his heart. It had been some time since he first met Jordan, a meeting that helped him remember who he was, and a meeting that brought forth events worth investigating. The soul of Ken's mother had been used by a wraith to give life to monstrous creatures, creatures that Ken himself had to fight. He thought he had saved her soul, for he swore he saw her ghost moving on to the afterlife. Afterwords, he began to realize what might have happened. If his mother had been killed, her soul taken, what of the remainder of his family?

Even though a third war of the domains was near, Ken took the risk to visit his home village of Taiyo. The village was practically gone, devoid of life. As he had suspected, the wraith had visited the place and saw it fit to ravage the place. Most who survived moved on to one of the bigger cities, only a few remained of desperate stubbornness. Many were never even found after the attack. They told him that his mother was never found, a fact that he already knew. They told him that his father and older sister were never found either.

As these events replayed in Ken's mind, he started to fall to the deck. He cursed himself for not being there. If only he never got involved in the struggles between these domains he might have been able to be there, to defend everyone. Now there was nothing left. There was perhaps his allegiance to the pirates of the Forsaken Fortress, a life debt he had sworn in a sense of honor. He began to consider whether he would have been better off just dying from exposure that fateful day rather than having been rescued by a merciful pirate captain.

A shipmate shouted and pointed to the horizon, the tips of the Fortress' towers visible. Ken started to think of someone in one of those towers.

"Hina..."

Ken had been permitted to keep company with the former princess, making conversation and even telling her stories of his own. A few times she would tell stories of her own about her family, before going silent on remembering recent events.

And the friends and allies he had earned. No matter what would happen, no matter the wars that break out, he still had those he could trust.

Perhaps he was not as alone as he thought he was...

~ * ~

Ken awoke from the dream, a bittersweet memory that had lost much of its sweetness since the cataclysm.

With his few possessions alreadygathered he watched the others bring themselves together for the newday. It seemed thatJordan had recovered somewhat. Not as good as he could be, but atleast he was in a decent enough state to walk.

"No,wait. He's a friend. He's a friend of mine."

His sudden appearance had invited some alarm, as was to be expected,though fortunately a situation had not developed from it so far. Hecertainly looked suspicious enough with the mask. A smile began toform beneath its wooden surface as Jordan defended his presence.

"Yes. Don't worry, I've known him for years. We happened to catch up lastnight."

It had been so long since he had actually traveled with anyone, and itseemed he picked the right time to begin associating with othersagain. Ken looked out the door to the world as it began to fill withthe first hours of sunlight.

For a while, the wanderer would have a path to follow.

[Goose]

Jara was walking along with the others, trying to pretend that he was okay, but every time he closed his eyes that echo of laughter came closer and closer to him. It was like trying to hide cake from a fat kid, that echo was going to catch him soon and he had to find a way to stop it. Because as moody and grim as the rest of his party was, nothing could stop the chaos of his mind once it was struck by the laughter.

[JRPomazon]

The traveling party had doubled by half. With the additions of Tsume and Ken, Jordan found himself curious as to just how these people managed to find him. His pace was noticeably slower than some of the other hardened warriors like Synile and Ken, the former maintaining his own pace without regards to his companions while the latter attempted to match his speed to that of the others but was still moving fast enough to remain ahead. The pain from his wounds would limit how much he could move or fight. All he could do was pray for a swift recovery for the sake of ending his pain and to properly address his double once he managed to find him.

All Jordan could think to do was move forward. Perhaps if the double has more in common with Jordan than just appearances then the two would run into each other once again down the road. He had to believe this in order to put his worries aside and focus on the journey. Getting down the mountain would only be a leg of the journey. He noticed that Synile and Ken had stopped in front of him, the others behind them slowed their pace down to see what it was that obstructing them. The path before them was steep, curvy and narrow, a thinly snow covered path that had treacherous written all over it with sharp rocks sticking out and a large chasm below. Even if given his full strength it would be unwise to attempt to trek down this way as any wayward movement could send anyone falling down the mountain with more than just a bruise.

"Damn it, this isn't going to work." He said out loud.

"What are we going to do?" Eivor asked.

Jordan contemplated what paths that were available to the party. To go straight was to attempt to keep level footing over narrow terrain with the risk of falling to one's death. The other was to backtrack and discover another route which would be a costly venture for supplies and time. Jordan turned to the others.

"We can try to brave this path or we can try to find another way down. What do you all think?"

[Sir Deimos]

Synile was never one for group decision. He had a penchant for doing things his own way no matter how stupid a risk. His stubborn side was a great boon to his fighting skill, but fighting was the only aspect of life it seemed to improve. Wasting no time Synile tossed Eivor over his shoulders. She let out a shriek of surprise.

"So, logically, the fewer steps you take, the less of a chance there is to fall." Synile seemed to concentrate for a moment before sprinting off towards the narrow passage. With each step he called upon all of the strength in his legs. After building up a decent amount of speed, Synile left his feet. The distance between each jump seemed inhuman. Synile, plus one, managed to cross the treacherous pass in five steps.

He set Eivor down on her feet once more. Her face wore the look of shock. In an instant, she raised her hand and slapped Synile across the face. "Next time ask before you do that!" She sounded breathless.

Synile ignored the slap and turned back towards the party waiting back on the other side. "Is this gonna take all day?" Synile shouted to the other side. Synile, however, decided not to wait for an answer. Continuing the walk ahead, Synile pressed on, leaving Eivor by herself to wait for the others.

[JRPomazon]

OoC: Moderate character control, just moving things along.

The onlooker's to Synile's act of daredevil bravado were left slack jawed and speechless. Jordan lowered his face into his hand, realizing that Synile had made life considerably more difficult. To his credit, he also made life considerably simpler.

"Damn it all." He muttered to himself, shaking his head.

It was too cold to bother standing still. Tsume decided to go next, although the large man looked unbalanced and out of place as he gingerly stepped from step to step as if he were walking a tight rope. Seeing as he was talking his sweet time to ensure he wouldn't fall, it would most likely take a while before the next person could cross.

* * *

Solomon had been awake for at least a day straight since he incited the Purge, managing the multitude of prisoners and the various inquisitional interviews and interrogations. He felt fine, not phased by the strenuous efforts that were underway. Due to his attention to these matters, several issues within the city walls were being neglected such as the debris and fires that had remained since the night of the purge and prevented anyone from reentering the city and the amount of blood still staining the streets. In a normal city, there would have been looting and rioting at this point. Within the city of the goddess this was not the case.

From a temporary headquarters that was set up in lieu of recent events, Solomon sat and watched his infernal process at work thinking of what other methods that could be used for interrogations. Before new deviations could be mustered, a lone inquisitor passed the several ranks of guards that were watching over the Grand Marshal and upon reaching Solomon he gave a hearty salute.

"Inquisitor Dmitri reporting in M'lord, I come from the offices of the arch-inquisitors. They ask of the status of the proceedings."

"Tell the arch-inquisitors that if they wish to know the status of the these proceedings then they can find the time to leave the Spire and come down here and see for themselves." Solomon answered.

"M'Lord . . . they thought you may say this and asked me to tell you that they are currently focusing their efforts on other matter of the city so that you may not be taken away from your current duties." Dmitri said.

Solomon was quiet for a moment, considering the inquisitor's comment.

"Inquisitor Dmitri, you may return to the arch-inquisitors that the matters in the city are progressing astoundingly well and that all things remain on proper schedule. I'm sure I've used enough of their favorite buzz words to put them at ease."

Dmitiri did not know how to react to Solomon's blunt response. Clearing his throat, he bowed in respect as he headed off.

"Inquisitor Dmitri. Do tell the arch inquisitors that if they have ANY additional workers that they should be sent down here so that we can retain a timely manner to these proceedings." Solomon said, looking at Dmitri coldly.

The inquisitor bowed again and left Solomon. He personally was grateful for the chance to avoid being apart of the purge, getting hit with fallen debris was the best thing that ever happened to him. But it would seem as though good fortune was not to last. As he walked past the empty streets, passing several houses marked with black Xs the inquisitor headed back the Spire.

[Ken the Wandering Soul]

OoC: Just let me know if I'm stepping on anyone's toes here and I'll edit accordingly..





Ken crouched down and leaned against a rock as he silently observed Tsume crossing the path. Every once in a while Ken, noticed Tsume buffeting for a moment for reasons Ken could not think of until he realized something else that happened each time. A gust of the wind. It would have been inconsequential, except that the perilous nature of the path allowed for little margin of error.

Ken looked back to Jordan. The spear warrior had held up remarkably well, despite his wounds. Ken remembered Jordan's wind manipulation techniques, and the toll they could take on the body. Even if he tried using them to cross the distance in his condition it would be asking for death. As he looked back for a while, Ken noticed that Tsume had covered enough ground for someone to go next.

The treacherous path inspired a unique fear in Ken as he stepped down towards it. It was a surmountable challenge for anyone in a decent health, as he was, but he looked back to see Jordan in his wounded state. Ken held out a hand, his barely used voice rumbling for a bit before speaking an old proverb he remembered.

“A tree falls to the storm. A forest dances to it.”

[JRPomazon]

OoC: Just getting over the bridge Goose, I hope you don't mind.

Jordan took a few steps forward as he was about to take hold of Ken and start walking across. He stopped for a moment and turned around, looking at Jara who seemed as though his mind was somewhere else. The old man couldn't make this the across by himself. Hell, he barely managed to not get killed by the bear yesterday. He weighed his options and came to a conclusion. He walked over to the old man and lead him to Ken.

"Take Jara on you back, I'll follow close enough behind so don't fret about me."

Jordan attempted to fake the bravado and smile up to cover the pain. Ken took Jara on his back, quite amused by the whole gesture and began to hum as the two of them made their trip. He didn't seem to mind sharing space with both of Ken's weapons, which seemed to be a blessing. Jordan watched the two of them start off as Tsume finished his way across. Thinking to himself that he should have taken Ken's offer, he considered how he was going to get over.

Edited by JRPomazon, 12 August 2011 - 12:14 AM.

[Ken the Wandering Soul]

Ken sighed and shook his head at Jordan's attempts to appear unaffected by his wound, but humored him anyway. Ken helped Jara across, ans while a bit discomforted by the path, he did not mind it in the end. It felt rather right to him in fact, helping another.

It was not until he came to the other side that he finally thought of Jordan again. He looked back at the warrior, seeing that Jordan had not yet made an attempt to cross either. In fact after he waited some time, Ken realized Jordan had no plan for crossing by himself. With that, Ken took up the helper's duty again, and started to cross back.

The return trip was actually quite easy without the need to support someone else. The ease was beguiling however. As Ken reached past the halfway point, the wind picked up and suddenly gusted. Quick to react, Ken dropped to all fours and held himself to the rocky ground of the path. The fright and terror of the moment masked another problem as Ken waited for the wind to die down. His mind focused more upon keeping a grip to the path and avoiding the peril of the chasm on either side of him, Ken failed to notice what became more obvious to the others. The robes of his right arm and leg had begun to soak red, especially where some jagged rocks had cut into them. A small pool had developed beneath Ken by the time he decided to resume his walk across. A sharp pain shot through his leg as he attempted to stand, and his walk was noticeably effected by it as he finished crossing.

Ken looked up to Jordan. His eyes were now shining with an intense ferocity at the pain, a hint of the snarled expression beneath his mask. He held out his unwounded hand in offering.

"Now."

Edited by Ken the Wandering Soul, 27 August 2011 - 10:30 PM.

[Sir Deimos]

Synile looked back to the group. They were still attempting to make their way across the bridge. He stopped and regarded the scene. It seems they were all helping each other cross to the other side.

Humans are a funny lot. Individually they're weak, but together... Each covers for the weakness within another. A group presents a strong unified front. The ebb and flow of centuries is more corrosive than water. Likewise, Synile's sense of humanity and compassion have long since withered. Time has removed almost everything that at one time made him human. Now his only place is watching the humans. Their camaraderie stirs up questions that Synile has no answer for anymore.

Suddenly, Synile could feel another mysterious attack coming on. Pain welled up within his chest, the strongest attack yet. His breath became shallow as he desperately fought to maintain consciousness, but there was nothing he could do. Helplessly, Synile watched as if a spectator. His vision slowly swirled to darkness, and his body slumped to the cold ground.



Synile opened his eyes. He was in a white room.

"This?" Synile had been here before. "This happened when I lost consciousness in the Labyrinth. Where is this place?" The sound of boots echoed throughout the strange place, and his own voice answered.

"This? This is the prison you've fashioned for me." Synile spun on his heels and was face to face with a reflection of himself.

"You..."

"Yes. Me." The other Synile interrupted. "You. You used to embrace me. Now you look at those things and wish. You long for your humanity back? Oh no. That doesn't happen. No one murders as many as you do without closing some doors. And oh man, the doors YOU'VE closed. You've killed the guilty, sure. But what about all those innocent? No. You can't go back. Men? That may be justifiable. Women? Less so. And the children? Oh yes. Can't forget about the children. They scream in a unique way." The mirror had a sickening smile on his face.

"I'm tired of being a monster! There's no one left. The others have died, changed, or left! We can't live like we used to! The Labyrinth is DEAD! Our options are adapt, die, or live as a hermit!"

The embodiment of Synile's darkness barked a caustic laugh. "Or we slaughter them all."

"You're serious... One man cannot erase humanity!"

"You forget who you're talking to. There was a time when you could handle a whole battalion yourself! You used to be beautiful! Death herself was envious of our blade. I exist because there is a part of you that cannot leave it behind. You revel in death. You only feel at peace when you're bringing chaos to others!"

"I-"

"You bring pain to others to alleviate the pain YOU yourself feel. Don't dance around it. I am you. You can't hide the truth from yourself. You look in the mirror, and you know what you see. You see a monster. You see a demon. And part of you is proud of that. Just because Selena and Chikara are gone, now you want to change? No. You don't want to change. You're as stuck in the past as ever. Now you just don't have anyone that was around back then with which to surround yourself. Now you're alone. And you so desperately want somewhere to fit in. But where would such an archaic beast fit now? Please. Even now. You're looking for excuses. You've always looked for excuses." The dark Synile grabbed Synile by the throat and pulled him in close. "I am what you worked so hard to craft over all those decades of unnatural, cursed, life. I am what you birthed. And now you see the darkness wrought by your own hand, and it disgusts you. Now that you aren't surrounded by those as despicable as yourself, you see the horrors you've committed for what they are. Well, no matter how much you regret what you were in the past, this is what you are now."

Dark Synile threw Synile to the floor. Synile gasped, sucking fresh air into his lungs.

"Well, you've had this body for too long. We used to co-exist. But if you want to keep me pent up in this mental prison, it's clear what I must do. You hate what you've become, so you've tried to distance yourself from it, and lock it away. But I want to live too. So now it's your turn to watch from this place. Now you get to be one of the voices in my head. If I keep you up here long enough, maybe you'll learn to play nice again."

Synile was helpless. He screamed from this place within his subconscious, a scream of rage. A scream of terror. He screamed until his throat felt bloody. He screamed because a monster he created would be loose on the world, able to interact with the few people who bothered keeping him around in the first place. He screamed because there was nothing he could do.

[JRPomazon]

The blood on his arm and leg was unmistakeable and the fall earlier was a nasty one. And still, Ken came back to help him across. He didn't remember asking for help, all he could think about was how he was going to get across so that he wouldn't be a bother to anyone. He couldn't stand . . . being a burden for anyone. But as the crimson blood stained the snow, for a moment, he felt an indescribable mix of anger, frustration, guilt and helplessness. He wanted to scream a little . . .

but instead, he took Ken's hand and they went on their way. The bridge was rocky, unstable and thin, the throbbing pain emanating from his chest wound made him grind his teeth.

"Sorry." He said, forcing its way out despite Jordan's best attempts to stay quiet.

As they made it to the end of the bridge, Ken dropped Jordan as his pain was getting the better of him. Eivor ran over to tend to both of them.

"Ah! You're bleeding!" She cried, reaching in her bag from various medical supplies. She turned to Jordan

"Why did you wait behind for him to take you over? Couldn't you have made it across by yourself?" She asked.

" . . ."

"Well!?" She screamed.

"I'm Wounded, alright!?" Jordan screamed as he showed the bandages underneath his shirt. Eivor was surprised to see the bandages covering most of his chest.

"And you didn't plan to tell any of us why? This is idiocy! Who are you trying to impress here?!" She asked.

A soft thump was heard beside them, Synile fell to his kness and his head hung low.

"Synile . . ?" Jordan asked.

Edited by JRPomazon, 29 August 2011 - 07:47 PM.

[Goose]

Jara liked to hum. and ho. sometimes he would do both. occasionally with effort he might put a "ha" in there as well. very rare was the "he". that just took effort.


"Synile..?"



something was up.


this could be bad.