--Part 1: Turtle, Verfelen and Zuriel gather, travel to Ten Stalks at the edge of the satrapy, and meet Shin Guan, God of Good Harvests and super dic-- I mean, hick.--

 

 

-= OOC =- Serendipity says, "Okay. This starts in the city. Turtle, the Immaculates have left it to you to gather the people on your list and strike out. They have forbidden you from using sign language or holding up subtitles to explain what you need, it's an exercise in interaction. ;) Have fun. That RP will give me time to whip up what's going on out there."

 

 

         Fresh to the city of Greyfalls, the monk called Gentle Turtle already had a mission assigned to him; to handle an upstart god near the edge of the Satrapy. Commanded to find two other dragon-blooded to assist in the task, he started his journey by travelling to Cathak Palace, where he shyly introduced himself and requested that the man known as Cathak Zuriel be brought to him should he be there, or his whereabouts revealed if he was elsewhere.

 

 

Verfelen raises an eyebrow at the monk. For some reason, he attracted her attention as he came off the docks.  She's not normally one to care much for monks, but something about the man caught her eye.

 

 

         Although an upstanding member of House Cathak, Zuriel does not spend much time in the palace, prefering to spend it at the temple or at the garrison drilling his troops, therefore it is out of sheer coincidence that the monk known as Gentle Turtle is able to locate him at Cathak Palace. After a few scant moments, the major domo that greeted the monk returns with the fire aspected scion. Zuriel bows respectfully to the monk and introduces himself, "Greetings, Honoured Brother, I am Cathak Zuriel. You requested my attention?"

 

 

"Y-yes," the meek monk begins, a stammer evident in his voice; whether it's nerves or a chronic condition, none can say. Folding his hands over his chest, the monk bows deeply. "I am G-Gentle Turtle, here to request your p-presence on a journey I am making. M-Master Jade Bow p-personally requested this favor from your house." He remains bowed, slowly rising after nearly a full minute. Verfelen's presence was noted by the monk when he stepped off, and he explained his goal and requested her presence before entering the Cathak Palace.

 

 

Verfelen touches his shoulder gently. "Trust me, Brother Turtle, there's no need for such nervousness around Zuriel. He's a good sort."

 

 

The young Cathak seems unsure of how to handle the shy monk and shifts his weight as he assesses the situation, giving Verfelen a simple nod and smile. "The Order can always count on my assistance, Brother Gentle Turtle," he begins, "Shall Lady Verfelen be joining us as well?"

 

 

Verfelen's expression conveys clearly that the monk needs careful handling - he's like an abused kitten.

 

 

You paged Gentle Turtle with 'You've been instructed to investigate Shin Guan, the God of Good Harvests who guarantees the success of much of the agriculture produced in the satrapy. His sanctum is at the edge of the satrapy, but reports say that he is often walking around the village nearest his major temple, basking in the worship of the peasants.'.

 

 

You paged Gentle Turtle with 'The village is called Ten Stalks (as in wheat stalks).'.

 

 

         The monk nearly jumps out of his skin in response to Verfelen's touch, but quickly calms, nodding his head in response to Zuriel's inquiry. He turns around so that he's no longer looking at them, beginning to walk. "Y-yes, miss Verfelen agreed t-to come. We are going to Ten Stalks, to find Shi-Shi-Shin Guan." With the explanation out of the way, the quiet monk moves to direct the group, as quickly as dragon-blooded can go with whatever resources available, to the village.

 

 

The fastest means available turns out to be horseback -- mind the animas. A few days later (this is the other end of the satrapy we're talking about here)... days filled with mud, and grit, and two inns of remarkably poor quality followed by one with absolutely phenomenal food, drink, and prostitutes, to boot. At last, the Dynasts and Immaculate approach Ten Stalks in full winter's glory, the fields alternately white and brown. It isn't hard to find the temple, because it's the only thing NOT mud-covered; it gleams with gold, on every bit of the pagoda. Well, except for the brass parts. The locals aren't /so/ well-off.

 

 

Verfelen raises an eyebrow. "It's quite... shiny," she remarks, somewhat lost for words at the sheer ostentation of the place. It doesn't suit her vision of a temple at all.

 

 

         The helmet clicks almost imperceptibly before and after Zuriel speaks, "This is like no temple I've ever seen, it is more like a palace."

 

 

Verfelen nods slowly. "So what is it doing out here, then?"

 

 

         "Shi-Shin Guan is the god of g-good harvests here," Gentle Turtle explains, fondly wishing he were still with the friendly horse. "S-such gods are often venerated, for they s-support the very livelihood of the p-p-peasants." Demurely, the monk approaches the temple, looking it over. "W-we shall pay our r-respects."

 

 

Verfelen gives Gentle Turtle a glance before her gaze turns to Zuriel. He can read her expression easily - "Trouble's brewing."

 

 

There are numerous other signs of, by Immaculate standards, inappropriate worship of this god; little signs and charms on most every doorway that are /not/ in the guidelines, and more than a few runes that appear to have been painted in blood. The temple itself has the curious phenomenon of zillions of teeny tiny bowls lining the stairs up to the main sanctuary. Within: lots and lots of potted plants, mostly herb gardens, ostentatious statues, and an altar made out of wheat, entirely, pressed so tightly together that it's quite solid, a child could probably walk on it.

 

 

         The suit of power armour whirs as he moves to follow the Immaculate, but keeps his hands on the hilts of his swords just in case. "I agree with Lady Verfelen, brother," he says, "I smell a trap." The last line is obviously a metaphor and he doesn't actually smell anything.

 

 

Even by Verfelen's standards, this is a bit much. Outwardly, she gives no sign, but at the slightest hint of trouble, her familiar is going to get out of the way and she's going to draw her sword and be ready for battle in the merest of instants.

 

 

         For the hundredth time he thanks House Cathak for giving him a suit of armour with a helmet that covers his expression. Were someone able to see through magical materials one would see a fire aspect with a very disapproving expression on his face within the Yoroi Rapid Response Armour. As it stands the suit of armour simply seems to be looking around as Zuriel takes in the area.

 

 

Verfelen's expression is cool and neutral - the face of someone who is merely observant.

 

 

"P-please relax, f-friends," the not terribly charismatic or forceful Gentle Turtle begs. "It is n-not proper to be s-so suspicious. D-do not attack anything, Cathak Z-Zuriel." Obviously, a legendary breeding Fire Aspect worries him; they're known to be hot-tempered and violent, after all! It's expected of them. "I d-do not detect anything moving around here. P-perhaps he is elsewhere. Shall we sp-sp-split up?"

 

 

Verfelen shakes her head. "No. We stay together," she replies firmly before raising her voice. "Shin Guan, I am Ledaal Verfelen, and on behalf of the Scarlet Realm, I demand your presence!"

 

 

         Most people would be annoyed at being so brusquely ignored. Some Immaculate monks would intimidate with their martial prowess. Gentle Turtle simply lowers his head. "Y-yes, we stay t-t-together."

 

Verfelen isn't ignoring him. "Monk, I've dealt with plenty of spirits myself. Something's not right here."

 

 

         For the first time in the whole journey, Zuriel chuckles and says, "Brother Turtle, I shall not attack anything unless absolutely necessary. You are in charge of this mission and so I will follow your orders to the letter. Believe me, if there is something I can do it is follow the chain of command." Like most Cathaks, Zuriel speaks in military terms, though he seems to be telling the truth.

 

 

There is a long silence in response to Ledaal Verfelen's demand. Then, the aforementioned dormice stream out of the walls, and dance in a creepy little skittering ring around the wheat altar. There is the faintest sigh, the sound of grasses blowing in a summer's breeze, before they vanish, back into their holes. There is a message written upon the ground in their wake: 'What care I for mortal Realms? Go away.'

 

 

Verfelen replies, "You care because your domain is within the Realm's territory. This monk is here to talk with you, /godling/," she sneers - she's not actually that arrogant, but a calculated insult like that is good for offending the egos of spirits.

 

 

"If t-things were r-r-right here, miss V-Verfelen, we would not be n-needed." Gentle Turtle's voice and demeanor, despite his nervous nature and the severity of the situation, remain infallibly calm and polite. When the message comes, he looks it over, pursing his lips. "I had h-hoped for a more p-p-pleasant welcome," he says softly. "Shi-Shi-Shin Guan, I r-respectfully request you m-m-materialize." Such a thing is the only way Shin Guan could escape his notice, after all - the dematerialized would not be revealed by the shifts in the air physical beings would cause.

 

 

"Monks are more interestin' t'me thaaan politicians with their tights in a twist," drawls -- there is no other word for the twangy tone -- Shin Guan, as he materializes atop his altar. It is, indeed, strong enough to hold his weight. He can only be described as a cross between a nature god (golden wheat for hair, summer sun glowing from his skin, spring rain in his eyes) and an overdressed hick (possibly the most opulent version of robes retaining a peasant style in existance, and an absolutely overblown straw hat). A stalk of wheat is rolled between his teeth. Despite all this, he looks distinctly unwell for a god, which is abnormal, gods not normally displaying attributes like circles under the eyes, skin pinched tight from famine, and whatnot. Especially gods exacting tons of worship from his constituents.

 

 

Verfelen raises an eyebrow. "I'd have to say I agree, being a sorceress," she answers calmly, unruffled by his manner.

 

 

         When the god materializes, the shy monk does something odd for one of his nature - he draws closer. The gesture is not threatening, for everything about the monk suggests borderline pacifism, a gentle nature, calmness; to intimidate is anathema to his very being. "I am Honored Brother G-Gentle Turtle, Shi-Shi-Shin Guan. We have c-come to settle this b-b-breach of the Immaculate doctrines. Why have y-you extorted these p-p-people so?" The god's state is a curious thing; perhaps talk will reveal what causes it.

 

 

Zuriel's eyes seem to glaze over for a moment, though when the spirit materializes his eyes come back to being the same as before. He bows respectfully to the spirit and allows the monk to speak, simply walking beside him as though protecting the meek and humble man.

 

 

Verfelen settles back now, letting Gentle Turtle do the talking.

 

 

Shin Guan blanches, when Gentle Turtle announces who he is, highlighting every zit and pustule on his sweaty face. Verfelen he pointedly ignores; Zuriel's bow is returned with a godly, though not lordly, nod. "Ah didn't want to, but Ah needed the power, see, y'all, to protect th' inte... integg... whole-sum-ness of mah harvest. Elsewise y'all'd have famine on yer lands," and in a much lower voice, he mutters, mostly to himself, "Anna buncha dead peons."

 

 

Verfelen looks curious at that, and perhaps the tiniest bit unnerved. She takes no offense at the god's manor - after all, she just insulted him earlier, he's got a right to be a bit miffed.

 

 

 

         This situation is strikingly abnormal; zits and pustules on a god? Their forms often represent their natures, and if this god looks so ill it must mean there is something wrong with the very land and harvest he represents. "W-w-what is threatening your l-l-land so?"

 

 

         The man in the Yoroi Rapid Response Armour tilts his head, which elicits a whir from the exomuscular fibers as he listens to the god speak. He breaks his silence and speaks, "M'lord, I am Cathak Zuriel, forgive me for interrupting. If you have a problem, why did you not approach the Immaculate Temple at Greyfalls. You are within the Satrapy, I'm sure any problem you have could have been solved with much more alacrity had you come to us for help."

 

 

Verfelen adds pointedly, "And without the looming threat of dying peasants or a diseased harvest."

 

 

"Ah TOLD th' monks, and Ah TOLD th' auditors, but none of them did nothin', so Ah had to take matters into mah own hands..." Shaking his head mournfully, Shin Guan rolls the wheat in his mouth from one end to the other, agitatedly. "Can't trust no tax man, no siree, not with those gorram fiendsonth'prowl." He spreads his hands, then acknowledges Verfelen for the first time: "Lissen sweetie, why don't y'go to your kitchen and cook 'till you feel better, while we men talk shop."

 

 

         "Do not judge him so h-harshly, friends," Gentle Turtle suggests - demands is too strong a word for too passive a man - after listening to Shin Guan's story. "G-Greyfalls d-does indeed have a t-temple, but it is not as s-s-strong as one you would find on the Isle. What few Exalted monks are to be found c-c-cannot be expected to h-handle every problem in the Satrapy." He, however, will have to; there's no escaping it. The alternative to helping is harming Shin Guan, and that would be improper. "T-tell me what has happened, Shin Guan."

 

 

Verfelen holds up a hand, "And without any pointed masculinist diatribes."

 

 

Cathak Zuriel smiles inside his helmet, thankful that Verfelen can't see it. He nods to the god and then addresses the monk, "You are most wise, Honoured Brother."

 

 

The true power of Shin Guan's godliness burns in his eyes as he looks over Verfelen, and he raises a hand as though to slap her -- but the polite little monk's interest in his troubles forstalls him. "Gorram apes is what. BLOOD apes. First one, then three, then more. Came from the ravine ten miles gone, past the old gully. Ah've been fighting them every night for three months, 'cept on the full moon an' new moon, but there's no end. Hadda get worship, to stay alive an' manage th' crops... Ah'm a farmer god, not a warrior god. Prolly summoned by some sorcerer like SHE'S so prouda bein', I dunno. Given every peasant in th' village charms with my own power to keep their dwellin's safe, and not a one has been eatin' yet." The last is said with a bit of down home pride, but there's no mistaking the weariness in his voice.

 

 

Verfelen nods slowly. "Good thinking, then." Then she adds pointedly, "I don't summon demons, I work with the elementals, the children of the Elemental Dragons."

 

 

Shin Guan rolls his eyes at Verfelen. "Ah -know- what elementals are, darlin'. Don't try t'lecture me on m'own neighbors, Ah've been growin' and livin' and lovin' this land since b'fore your precious Empress was a twinkle in her mother's eye."

 

 

Verfelen steps up to him. "Let me offer you a suggestion, Shin Guan. Do /not/ irritate Dragon-Blooded needlessly. It often leads to a bad end with ones who are less self-controlled than I."

 

 

         "Demons can come into the world without the aid of a s-s-summoner, but not in such numbers," the little monk muses, his thoughts going. "Which m-means someone, or a group, is c-calling them into our w-w-world. I have a suggestion, Shin G-Guan. The three of us will go to this r-ravine, and h-h-handle the problem. In r-return, you will r-resume your proper duties and a-a-acknowledge the prayer calendar of the O-O-Order, and s-stop taking more than what is due." He has so far made a strong effort to only speak when Verfelen has not been, and not interfere with their argument - but he finally speaks up. "P-please stop, miss V-Verfelen. H-his pride is the s-same as yours, and y-you are the one who b-barged into his h-h-home and insulted him."

 

 

Verfelen looks irritated but lets Gentle Turtle do his job.

 

 

Cathak Zuriel nods when Turtle suggests taking on the blood apes and cracks his knuckles saying to the god, "I will take great pleasure in sending blood apes back to Malfeas where they belong."

 

"You gotcherself a deal, Ah reckon," reckons Shin Guan. "Mind ye, s'no good killin' 'em all without stoppin' th' source, whatever it be. Ah'll get th' folks 'round here back on their regular prayer rounds lickety-split if you get rid of them apes."

 

 

Verfelen smiles thinly. "It will be a pleasure to get rid of such stains on the face of Creation."

 

 

         "We are in a-accord," the monk states, bowing deeply to Shin Guan and turning upon a heel. His expression is one of acute nervousness, perhaps even a hint of fear; he's sealed the deal, and now they're going to have to go and face demons! Large, brutish, bloodthirsty demons! "L-let us go as quickly as we can. We will p-p-plan on the way." Can anyone blame the poor little guy for being so frightened? He says he's a Third Coil monk, but even mortals can reach that Coil, and he seems like the last sort who'd be particularly dangerous in a fight.

 

 

The god dematerializes in a puff of grain.

 

 

Verfelen purses her lips thoughtfully. "If we had more time, I would research a banishing spell and we could do this the easy way. Unfortunately..." she trails off, shaking her head. "It seems we'll have to do things the hard way, I suppose. Not that hurting demons is /ever/ a bad thing," she adds with a nasty little smile.

 

 

 

Zuriel nods, "I agree, let us make haste. If I may make a suggestion though. Perhaps you should allow me to fly ahead and do some basic recon and report back any unusual things I see, if only so we can make sure we don't walk into a horrible ambush and get slaughtered."

 

Verfelen nods. "A wise precaution."

 

 

         "I c-c-cannot be ambushed," the little monk informs Zuriel. "But the lay of the l-l-land will be useful to us. P-please do not be s-s-seen."

 

 

         Wings of fire spring forth from the back of Zuriel and he smiles at the monk from behind his helmet as he says, "We are not all as fortunate, Brother. I shall be as silent as the wind and as swift as a flash fire." He jumps in the air before his wings lift him up high up before he continues towards the ravine as fast as his wings can carry him.

 

Zuriel is rapidly over the ravine. It is full of blood and skeletons and nastiness. All the grass outside of it is dead up to about fifty yards away in each direction. There are no fluffy bunnies in the area.

 

 

Cathak Zuriel circles the area a few times, trying to search for any hidden portals, traps, passages, paths and simply trying to find anything that might give the three of them an advantage if a fight starts prematurely. Still, he keeps in mind what the layout looks like, full of blood, gore and skeletons--sacrifices by a thaumaturge perhaps?

 

 

-= OOC =- Serendipity says, "Are you more looking for details within the gore, or good ambush spots?"

-= OOC =- Serendipity says, "It sounds like both, so go ahead and roll Per + War and Per + Awareness, separately."

(Judge) Cathak Zuriel rolls Perception  + War: [ 2 3 6 7 9 9 ]

         Resulting in 3 successes.

(Judge) Cathak Zuriel rolls Perception  + Awareness: [ -1- -1- -1- 3 5 9 ]

         Resulting in 1 successes.

-= OOC =- Cathak Zuriel says, "Wow, that was a horrible roll."

-= OOC =- Gentle Turtle says, "Sweet jesus."

-= OOC =- Gentle Turtle says, "Worst. Scout. Ever."

-= OOC =- Verfelen says, "No, the worst scout ever would've botched it."

-= OOC =- Verfelen says, "At least he didn't hit a tree."

-= OOC =- Serendipity says, "You see gore. Lots and lots of gore. The gore-filled ravine goes for about a half-mile, right up to the end of the ravine. There are a couple of hills covered in dead grass that could provide some high ground, perhaps, for an advantage in certain situations."

-= OOC =- Serendipity says, "And that is what you see."

-= OOC =- Verfelen says, "Oh, and some more gore."

-= OOC =- Cathak Zuriel sighs, "I need the Lucky merit."

-= OOC =- Serendipity patpats. "Anything else?"

 

 

Cathak Zuriel flies back after surveying the land to Gentle Turtle and Verfelen, landing gracefully as the wings dissipate harmlessly. "The ravine itself seems filled with blood, gore and skeletons," he says as he reports to the pair, "My guess is that they are sacrifices by a thaumaturge to summon apes. Other than that I did not see anything of use aside from a couple of hills that may grant us higher ground in a fight. The land really is fairly lackluster, probably because it is farmland."

 

 

Verfelen nods slowly. "Do the two of you know the Elemental Bolt technique?" she asks softly.

 

 

         "I d-do not," the monk dolefully announces, ever a disappointment.

 

 

Verfelen says, "Not all do. Zuriel?"

 

 

With a mechanical whir he shakes his head and says, "Normally I just spit fire at my opponent if I require a ranged attack."

 

 

         "They can be b-brought into our world with blood s-s-sacrifices, so that seems likely," Gentle Turtle says, agreeing with Zuriel. "You saw no e-enemies? It is p-possible they do not come out until night, or are h-hiding. C-Cathak Zuriel, w-would you accompany miss V-Verfelen when we enter? I have h-heard you are a m-master of Fire Dragon, and she should be s-safe. I will do what I can on my o-o-own."

 

 

--Part 2: Verfelen and Zuriel investigate the source of the Erymanthoi in Shin Guan's ravine--

 

 

Without flying, it's a bit of a hike to the ravine's edge, marked, as a reminder, by a bunch of dead grass, slowly spreading out from the edges like blood seeping from a terrible wound in the earth. It is past dark by the time the intrepid heroes crest one of the hills looking down on the ravine, about a hundred yards from its end. Standing as innocently as it can manage is a lone Erymanthoi, right in the middle of the depression, scratching itself and looking around. Its eyes reflect the moonlight, and luminesce a creepy crimson.

 

 

Verfelen has drawn her blade and looks down. "Well, that's one of them," she muses, glancing at Zuriel. "Do you see any of the others?"

 

 

Cathak Zuriel draws both his blades and performs an intricate kata that ends in bringing his arms together and in one swift movement separating them, causing a small flash of flames erupt from them. He looks at Verfelen, then at the ape and says with a smile, "No, but we can ask him."

 

 

Verfelen looks slightly amused. "Well, then, it seems we're in agreement," she answers. "Do you want to ask the first question, or should I get his attention?"

 

 

Cathak Zuriel jabs a thumb at himself, "I'll do it, just watch my back." He gingerly walks to where the blood ape stands, keeping an eye out for an ambush.

 

 

Verfelen hefts her blade, simultaneously preparing herself to launch an elemental bolt if need be.

 

 

Cathak Zuriel feels uneasy about the situation already. As he approaches the demon he catches the demon twitch a bit. Whether it was preparing for an attack of simply twitching nervously, it sends Zuriel flying into a whirlwind of slashes as he attempts to dice the blood ape into oblivion.

 

 

The ape falls into little slices like so much deli meat before dematerializing in a puff of vile-looking smoke. From the end of the ravine, six more red eyes ignite, and start moving towards the firey swordslinger.

 

 

Cathak Zuriel sees the three more blood apes and activates Consuming Might of the Fire Dragon as he bursts into flames and assumes a defensive stance.

 

 

Verfelen gathers her will and her power, calling the winds and lightning to aid her in smiting these unholy abominations from beyond the world. "Elemental Bolt!" she cries, her sword whirling through a complex kata and pointing directly at the apes. As the first blast rockets from her blade, wind, frost, and lightning curling around each other as her ties to Mela empower it, she repeats the kata, calling down another elemental blast to strike the ape closest to Zuriel, hopefully weakening it enough for him to take it on more easily.

 

 

The leader-ape gets buffetted by a touch of frost, but other than blowing his fur around, doesn't seem particularly perturbed; he, as well as his buddies, continue on towards Zuriel. "Grraragrgghhghh!" It really is more impressive than it's spelled, that war cry.

 

 

Verfelen nods and prepares to leap into battle, positioning herself for spring from cover once the apes are distracted by engaging Zuriel.

 

 

 

 

Cathak Zuriel slashes at the battered blood ape, hoping it will be easy to dispatch. However, his blades find nothing but thin air, missing three times.

 

 

The blood-apes converge on Zuriel; he is briefly buried in rampaging ape. However, they can't seem to connect with him, rarely so much as touching his armor, never penetrating, not even a bit.

 

 

 

Verfelen leaps out of cover at the ape closest to her, sword flashing in Sol Invictus's light.

 

-= OOC =- Serendipity says, "Aha. One stunt die. I was sort of under the impression that you were still on the hill overlooking the ravine, so feel free to add an extra die for that high ground advantage as you charge him."

 

 

Still embarassed, Zuriel's anima flares just a bit more causing his corona of flames to burn white for a moment as he slashes furiously at the hurt ape. He twists to the right and then quickly twirls in the opposite direction, jumping in the air and extending his blades to attack the ape in a butterfly jump. The first blade connects with the ape's neck and severs it cleanly, causing the other two attacks to slash at the ape in vain as the beheaded body stumbles blindly about.

 

Winds and azure Essence flow around her and lightning crackles on the blade as she draws on her powers to insure a quick, clean strike.

 

 

 

The five sets of glowing red eyes that open at the end of the ravine do so simultaneously and fairly creepily, and they close quickly.

 

 

The apes close, not the eyes.

 

 

Verfelen notices the apes, and wonders why they're moving that slowly, but is a little too busy trying not to get killed.

 

 

Cathak Zuriel confident once more, Zuriel focuses his attention on the two other apes. He reverses the grip on his blades and moves between the two apes. With the speed of a flash-fire he slashes each of them intermitently as he twirls around, appearing like a whirling mass of deadly steel.

 

 

Verfelen's lips curl back into a fierce warrior's grimace as she focuses her Essence and her martial skill both on the task of a single, transcendently perfect strike. Wind roars behind her blow as it cuts through the air, leaving an audible crackle and a whiff of ozone as electrifying Essence jumps back and forth on the blade's edge.

 

 

Cathak Zuriel has had enough of these demonic whipper-snappers. Bringing his blades back to their normal grip he assumes a low, solid stance in front of the first ape attempting to strike his knee with the first blade and his neck with the second to keep him distracted. Then he turns around to face the other ape and attempts to simply stab both blades into its chest cavity and then separate them outwards, a simple but effective strategy he learned in the Cloister.

 

 

 

 

 

The last ape gets more and more frenzied in his attacks, but manages to hit nothing but air and singe his claws and bone mace. He howls his frustration to the sky, and it is echoed by the five -- no, wait, suddenly there are twelve, in two waves -- crushing the ground with their feet as they close in.

 

 

Verfelen is angry, her power and training have so far been useless, and her sorcery is no aid against these fiends. Winds shriek around her and frost forms near her feet as her anima fluxes, her demonic blood rising in fury at these interlopers, her Exaltation and storm demon's heritage combining to electrify her. Her hair whips in the crackling tempest summoned by her power as she makes another powerful slashing cut at the stinking, worthless apes.

 

 

Her anima crackles against Zuriel's, steam rising from the friction between their powers, and her blue-trimmed white cloak ripples in the wind as her braid mirrors her sword's slash.

 

 

Seeing Verfelen's tactic of using one perfect blow, he switches stances to a more offensive and forward stance. His anima flares a searing white once more as he prepares to unleash the full might of the fire dragon upon the blood ape. In a classic vertical cut, he raises his blade and brings it down on the middle of the blood ape's skull, attempting to cleave it in twain.

 

 

Zuriel does so, and there is a brief respite as more apes close in from the end of the ravine.

 

 

Verfelen also wants to find and destroy the source of these creatures before they can swarm the pair under.

 

Her eyes flick to Zuriel's. "As little as I like the taste of a retreat, we're going to get worn down if they keep coming like this," she says insistently.

WIth a mechanical whir, Zuriel turns to Verfelen as the last demon dies and says, "Lady Verfelen, we must seek out the source of these demons. Simply killing swaths and swaths of demons won't do us much good. I can fly us forward if you wish or go alone." Sheathing his blades he extends his hands to her in the event she wants to tag along and even as he says this, fiery wings blossom forth from his back.

 

 

With a silent flutter of fiery wings, the pair take off. Zuriel heads towards where he believes the source would be, namely in the direction where the demons are pouring from. Nonchalantly he says, "Lady Verfelen, you are more well-versed in the occult than I am. Please direct me if I miss something that is obvious to you."

 

 

-= OOC =- Serendipity says, "Okay, to keep my pattern sane, all that talking takes you to tick 26, at which point the 5 apes just miss getting to you in time, the 7 halfway in between look up and go (o.O?) and 11 more spawn at the beginning of the ravine. It's a 5 tick action to fly there holding Verf, she slows you down a little (conveniently keeping the action on the ticks that are interesting to me). So, on tick 31, you're above the end of the ravine, which I will describe shortly, and another 13 have spawned there, which are hanging out with the 11 on the ground, the 7 that were midway have made it back, and the last 5 are halfway there. That makes a total of 31 apes clustered at the end of the ravine (wtbfireballpst) and 5, 5 ticks away."

 

 

Verfelen doesn't answer verbally, her focus on the task at hand written plainly on her face. 

 

 

This ravine ends not in a path up but at a cliff. There, vaguely visible beneath the pile o' apes, is something that is presently glowing a rusty red, kind of the color of dried blood. It is possibly man-sized. The apes look up and roar great bellowing roars.

 

 

Verfelen narrows her eyes. "Get me within fifty yards, I have an idea on how to handle this."

 

 

Verfelen focuses, readying every bit of her power and will to fling at the being below. She hopes it isn't an Anathema - a more powerful sorcerer than she might well ignore the spell - but she banishes any mention of doubt.

 

 

Cathak Zuriel simply hovers as best he can, holding the Lady Verfelen as steady as he can so she can study the quagmire beneath.

 

 

Her anima flares even brighter, small curls of frost forming on Zuriel's armor and steam exploding along his wings as ice-cold mountain winds whip around them, and it curls around them in a dragon of lightning and frost. The power fractures around her, whirling like emerald lightning, and then the energy roars loose to attack whatever effect is down there, seemingly carried by Verfelen's shout of "EMERALD COUNTERMAGIC!"

 

 

The essence from Verfelen's spell coalesces down at the bottom of the pit -- the apes scatter, briefly allowing what was beneath them to be seen -- it's a big old summoning circle, and in the middle is some kind of ... pedestal? ... glowing that glow, made out of... something. It's very skullsy, no candles though. As the Emerald Countermagic strikes it, it flickers slightly, as though acknowledging the touch of magic, but nothing else happens.

 

 

-= OOC =- Serendipity says, "Verfelen ... it's obviously bone, and you think you vaguely recognize the design. Shatter the pedastal and you shatter the ritual, which could be a bit explosive and probably best done from afar."

 

 

-= OOC =- Serendipity says, "Meanwhile, the apes swarm back onto the pedastal, looking up at you guys."

 

 

Cathak Zuriel looks down at Verfelen and says, "Lady Verfelen, perhaps we should descend upon the summoning circle and disrupt it. I can protect you from the blood apes while you work on the circle."

Verfelen turns, and the winds around her echo her voice as she asks, "I've heard of Fire Immaculates spitting gouts of fire. Can you do something similar?"

 

 

Cathak Zuriel says, "You are correct, m'lady. As a master of Fire Dragon style I am capable of projecting gouts of flame from my mouth. Do you think I should drop blasts of fire onto the blood apes?"

 

 

Verfelen shakes her head. "We don't want to be next to it when the pedastal shatters! Can you destroy the pedastal itself with your flames?"

 

 

Cathak Zuriel shakes his head, "If it is going to explode I don't think it has the range necessary to do the job without causing us damage." He flies up higher so that the apes appear like ants and continues talking, "I have an idea though. You are a scion of Mela, the Air Dragon. I can fling you up into the air, then race down and draw the apes away. In the time it takes you to drop to the ground, the pedestal should be clear and you should have time to think while the apes are busy attacking me. I know air dragons can fall from great heights without any ill effects."

 

 

Verfelen nods and braces for the throw.

 

 

Cathak Zuriel performs various loop de loops to make the throw easy. Then once he thinks she's really ready, he lobs her in the direction of the hill, using the angular momentum of the loop de loops to increase the height of her jump and subsequent fall.

 

 

As Verfelen sails into the air, she holds her arms out wide. Her anima banner's dragon - a child of both the Elemental Dragon Mela and the fierce storms of Malfeas - shrieks and forms around her, its wings spread as she sails into the air and then curling around into a ferocious dive as her arc reaches its apex. Frost and snow are scattered wide as her anima is released from its friction against Zuriel's firey nature and little wisps of steam rise as snowflakes hit the edge of his own elemental banner. As she sails downwards, the dragon roars with incredible rage, lightning and frost binding themselves to her blade. The sword in her hands has become less a thing a steel and more a pure instrument of her will and Essence, cooling but now capable of delivering an incredible stroke when it hits the ground. Her fall ends with a mighty slash down at the ground, conveying every last bit of energy she has, a massive flash of lightning arcing upwards through the dragon and a wave of frost spreading across the ground. The ice sword shatters on impact, the mortal weapon no match for the power of one with the blood of the Dragons in her veins, but it has done its duty and done it well, dying in noble service to defend the common folk of Creation.

 

 

The response from the poor, abused cliff is immediate and overwhelming -- with a roar that is no match for Verfelen's anima, but nonetheless an impressive impression of Pasiap, the cliff collapses onto the pedastal and the apes in a rush that more engenders thoughts of a tide of stone than anything else. There is a second, muted, explosion, as the sorcery powering the pedastal shatters, instantly killing the apes trapped with it. Two words: KA. BOOM.

 

 

Verfelen roars in defiance, leaping into the air to be caught by her dragon's frosty claws and thrown out of the radius of falling rock. She lands with an easy grace away from the apes and thrusts the smoking, frost-covered hilt that is all that remains of her blade through her belt and turns to regard the carnage.

 

 

Cathak Zuriel flies down to where Verfelen stands and hovers above her, witnessing the explosions. He then turns to Verfelen and says, "That worked, I think. What else is left to do?"

 

 

--Part 3: Turtle vs. Five Hundred Fingers of Creeping Doom--

 

You split off from the other two Dynasts about a mile from the ravine, following instincts perhaps guided by the Great Mela that lead you down a little side path. This path screams of trouble, what with your every footstep dislodging moisture from the ground that is obviously blood, even in the dark.

 

 

    His senses still extended by the currents of air he's reading, the little Turtle cautiously makes his way through the area. The ample amounts of blood instill a deep, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach; this is a bad land, there are bad people here, and something bad is destined to happen. He can only hope that he doesn't botch things and make life more difficult for Zuriel and Verfelen. The little monk does not even talk to himself to help his nerves; he's dead silent, stealthy as he can be, moving down the path even as his eyes scan and he reads the currents to locate the source of all this trouble.

 

 

On your harsher footfalls, the muck bubbles up in the shapes of little nonhuman skulls, some of which have sad, unborn, folded bat wings on their cheeks, which exist for a few moments before sliding back into nonexistence in the ground. It wends its way around the cliff at the end of the ravine by about a half mile, before ending in a most straightforward manner: at a seal in the earth, pure white jade carved into a two-dimensional skull, with little flames dancing in its carbunkle eyes.

 

 

    Oh, this is delightful - corrupted ground, inhuman skulls, and blood on his sandals. Gentle Turtle is rightfully frightened by all of this, but it isn't in his nature to withdraw if he's helping someone else; stomp on him if you like, he'll gladly let you, but when he needs to accomplish a task to protect or aid others he'll swallow his fear and charge in. Or, well, creep. Timidly and silently, until he comes to the seal. Oh, he should have brought Verfelen, she's the sorceress, she's the one that'd understand the arcane implications behind this design and what to do, and the thoughts whir through his head. The little monk doesn't know what to do, nor does he particularly want to go and stand next to this macabre image, so he decides upon the first thing that comes to his stealth-oriented mind: remove the light! Less light, better hiding.

 

The skull seal, angled in the sloped ground at about a 45 degree angle, oggles at Turtle. No amount of stealth can prevent those creepy eyes from looking right at him, they're like Mona Lisa eyes.

 

 

The poor little monk cannot see anything else in the area; he has no choice but to approach the skull and see what he can discover with a more thorough examination.

 

 

 

    Still silent, still alert and still far too tightly wound, Gentle Turtle moves to put his weight into play and roll the large, terrifying skull to the side to delve into the tomb below.

 

 

For being a hole in the ground, the cave is surprisingly airy; there is a constant whooshing sound, and no stuffiness at all. There is incidentally also no light whatsoever. No friendly burrowing animals dwell in this domain, but a few winged reptiles rush out of the entrance like bats out of hell when you unseal the place. A single vibration shakes the ground within, like a beat on a drum -- there and gone.

 

 

    Robbed of his mundane sight, Gentle Turtle continues to operate perfectly despite the consuming darkness; one guided by the Air Dragon need never go without eyes of some kind, provided there is air around them. Stilling the concerns that bubble up inside him, he moves in - and oh god the winged reptiles fly out and there's a crowd there's probably a /thousand/ and they're going to - well, that's over. A deep breath, some dark thoughts on the vibration, and he moves into the hole.

 

 

As you head deeper inside the cave, there is an almost metallic tang upon the air, that burns the little hairs inside your nose and makes your eyes water -- it is, unmistakably, the taste of power, dark power, evil power, making the very space crackle. The ceiling seems to remain at its initial height the farther down the slope you travel, creating more and more space above you, until it is invisible in the darkness. More vibrations tremor through the room: three, then, a bit later, five.

 

 

    These vibrations cause all sorts of thoughts to go through Turtle's head as his imagination runs wild: fantastic creatures of terrible bulk that shake the earth with their steps, a rockfall further that will eventually lead to him dying here, trapped, and even one glorious, brief thought that maybe there's a fellow Immaculate here, a master of Earth Dragon training who will help him and take care of everything. Sensing no pattern other than that it's a steadily increasing odd number of beats, he continues to move, counting. He expects seven the next time.

 

 

The end of the cavern is nigh: there is a sense in the air of an end of space, even though it's hard to see the wall back there. Like chimes on a grandfather clock, the occasional humming of the cavern continues: seven beats, then eleven. And now, a plausible source makes itself known: a pedestal of bone, glowing the color of dried blood, casting tendrils of foul, corrupted essence into the earth like some gross bloodsucker. You come upon it towards the end of the eleven-beat set, and the light pulses with each beat.

 

 

    Inhaling deeply, Gentle Turtle finds his nerves rattled by the group of eleven beats; the next one should have been nine, which means he either incorrectly assumed the pattern was steadily increasing odds or that the pattern is deliberately flawed. Regardless of the reason he's thrown off, and finds himself engaging in a quick, silent series of high, graceful movements that require absolute balance, assuming the Air Dragon Form. He sticks to the shadows as he moves towards the pedestal, needing to examine it.

 

 

In the shadows cast by the pedestal, darker and more malicious than those created by the natural lack of light, rests a being of supreme creepiness: ensconced in armor that seems to be equal parts bone motif and groaning souls that wail, not with fear but with pain, at your approach. From what you can see within the darkness, pale skin and hair defines the person's form -- and the hair is almost supernaturally long and fine, and tangled within it are literally hundreds of skeletal fingers, which twist and clatter. Air rushes about the figure, whose pale grey eyes look straight at Turtle and narrow. "Interference is forbidden," it -- he? -- hisses in Old Realm, before starting to shape violet and black essence with its hands in a very forbidding way. The air behind him shimmers, and a terrifying, robed figure manifests with the flaring of his anima.

 

 

    This being before him is outrageously creepy - armor fashioned from bone and souls, pale skin and ultra-fine white hair? If he knew the word, he'd scream vampire. There's no time for thought, no time for fear, although waves of it will certainly come once he can take a moment to acknowledge them; Gentle Turtle spreads his arms, his hands smack together, and a thunderous clap flows outwards. "Thunderclap Kata!" His first words since splitting up from the group; it's calming to focus on the attack names.

 

 

The robed fellow fizzles and vanishes in a puff of anima, but even as the armored figure vibrates with the sound and makes a pained little noise as his ears start to bleed, essence is rushing back towards him, dragged from the tortured air of the cavern.

 

 

    Having barely escaped the sorcerer's first strike, the Immaculate monk begins to rely more on the unconscious instinct and muscle memory that guides a fighter; if he pauses long enough to think, he fears for his life and thinks that man is especially intimidating, and that's not good. The black chakram in his hand glows and two duplicates arc out, but they fail to strike; he moves to the next attempt, opening his mouth wide and letting out an ear-piercing shriek that shakes the very walls of the area.

 

*** Turtle plays a game of stun-the-spellcaster, this happens for awhile. ***

 

 

By this time the angry guy's anima is as totemic as an Air aspect's gets: lightning and wind form this terrific skull above and around him, babbling in Old Realm about promises that will be fulfilled and death and destruction reigning from within the Void. Grumble.

 

 

    The totemic anima banner screams to the monk of the blight upon the sorcerer's essence, its dark nature and slant towards death; such a dragon-blooded is not right, is not proper in the eyes of the Dragon, and must pay for his transgressions and be forced to make amends. Once more, Gentle Turtle spreads his arms, eyes focused and showing a rare hint of spine, his teeth clenched as his hands crash together and fill the air with thunder once more.

 

 

    As an afterthought, Turtle's banner is now totemic just like the sorcerer's - but where the latter's is dark and tainted, Turtle's is pure, crashing, froth-crested waves which roar and the smell of salt water filling the air.

 

 

Trembling with injury and hatred, the twisted, corrupted Air aspect plunges a hand into a pouch on the outside of his armor and pulls something out; he crushes it in his hand, and scatters the dust to the floor.

 

 

 

The Air aspect topples over, blood pouring from his ears. The air stirred up by his anima shudders and ceases to move, the skull collapsing, the lightning dimming. With a crumpling sound, the armor he was wearing turns to dust and disappears, along with his corpse; a pair of white jade bracers, however, shines pure and bright within the macabre. And then, the pedastal, which has been pulsing throughout, thirteen, then seventeen, then twenty-three times, explodes, about the same time as the world falls in -- some terrible force has struck the ceiling of the cave, and it's collapsing in a landslide!

 

 

 

-= OOC =- Serendipity says, "Run, Link, run! Take Zelda and run!"

 

 

    Gentle Turtle launches forward, the essence of water and air flowing around his body as he calls upon the many tricks he has at his disposal. His movements are impossibly fluid, mercurial and swift - effortlessly he skates along the currents of air in the room, swooping in on the jade bracers and grabbing them in hand before he turns. The stylized wind-gusts on his jade sandals scrape against the side of the chamber as he makes a sharp turn, the air filling with dust and stone rubble falling from the ceiling. The monk is not deterred, using the rubble in a manner only the Exalted could: stepping stones, launching himself up the slope he previously descended at breakneck speeds. He'd probably look pretty badass, were his eyes not so wide and if he wasn't repeatedly muttering "Oh d-d-dear, oh d-d-dear.." nervously. He finally explodes from the hole in the ground, stepping upon the cloud of dust and dirt that sprays into the air to achieve quite impressive heights, which he loops around and rides back to the earth, his anima fading.

 

 

-= OOC =- Serendipity says, "Okay, you pop outside, Verfelen and Zuriel are basically right there, having just knocked down the cave you were in, in an effort to accomplish something else."

 

--Conclusion: They have saved the day!  At this point the scene essentially ended, as the players have yet to be all on at the same time again, though there was presumably some debriefing.--