[Zuudaria] No Haven For The Guilty

11th of Cylus 719

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Faith Augustin Champion
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[Zuudaria] No Haven For The Guilty

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11th Cylus, 719
Immediately following: this
Famula's realm.

Her grave was here, and as she walked past it, a few moments behind everyone else, Faith glanced and wondered how soon she might be filling it. Death did not hold any fear for her, it was natural and normal and part of life. Yet, in that moment she felt a cold shiver travel down her back. To lie here, to rest, it would mean that she had left behind those she loved. Those she needed, and who needed her. As her heart rate increased, she felt panic start to grip her, slightly and she stopped walking, just for a few trill, and concentrated on her breathing. "I'm fine." She thought to Padraig, their telepathic link a means of communicating even though he was already in there. "Don't come out, people will worry. I'm nearly there." It was a comfort to her that he was there and it calmed her.

Because in that moment, Faith felt like the twenty arc old girl she was.

And she was terrified.

But she didn't have time for that and she smiled to herself. "This is what comes of wanting freedom you know," her thoughts were clear and her emotions much more calm. "A slave owns nothing, has no right to anything and, therefore, has nothing to lose. As a free woman, I make choices. Ironically, the man who wrote to Tristan, the one who told Tristan I should be free? That's Alistair. Ellasin's right hand necromancer. I had no idea." Cold anger at that propelled her forward and she stepped into the mausoleum. Walking up the central aisle, she felt small and insecure, so she looked at her husband and straightened her back. When she got to the front, she smiled at him. "Had to go kiss my babies," Faith whispered. Then she turned and looked at the people who had just been in her home.

"Thank you, for taking what must have been a leap of faith for some of you." Faith's eyes glowed a deep crimson. "This is Zuudaria. It is Famula's Domain, her realm. Usually, only open by invitation directly from her, but she has allowed me to use the lantern you saw." She considered what was important to say and what was not. "We are safe here, no one can intrude, no magic will penetrate."

Gesturing around, she explained. "Padraig and I were upstairs, doing some alchemical things, when the wall started bleeding. It brought us here," that bit she sounded calm and like it was nothing new. "Famula brought us into this place and all the Zuuda and Wisps were here. To make a long story short, Famula has declared war, not on Ellasin, but on the Coven itself. She has instructed that the Coven is to be destroyed, and she has named me her War General. All Zuuda, all Wisps, all over the world, now form part of our numbers." She breathed in.

"I accepted. But I realise something. I am a fanatic. I am furiously angry and my heart hurts because Qit'ria died to protect me. I am terrified of more people I love getting hurt, and equally scared of letting everyone down. All of those things combine and they make me very predictable. So, while I am the General Famula has asked me to be, there needs to be another side to this. And that, is that there needs to be intelligence gathering, spy networks, all those things which combine to make sure that we are one step ahead, five steps ahead, at all times."

She glanced at Padraig then, and smiled. "And so, we have a spymaster, also. This is war and we need to be clear what we're doing with it. So. We need to plot. In the first instance, we can split into groups working on our talents. Our strengths must be exploited, I feel. And so while some will attack, others will defend, yet others will heal and others will have more covert tasks to perform. "

And carefully, almost imperceptibly, pinched her fingers together so that the pads of them turned white. "Because I have no doubt that Ellasin is up to something. This is out of her usual behaviour and I believe she's planning something. It might be a distraction, to keep us busy whilst she does other things, or it might be something else. I don't know. But I know that we have to find out.

With a slight shrug, she looked at them all and set her jaw in determination. "We're going to win this, by being smart and two steps ahead. So, lets start. Let's throw out ideas and discuss them - nothing is too far out, nothing too outrageous. Lets start there, and whittle down from there."
Last edited by Faith Augustin Champion on Tue Jun 04, 2019 6:41 pm, edited 2 times in total. word count: 813
This PC is dead. See this thread for details.
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Varlum
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Re: [Zuudaria] No Haven For The Guilty

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Varlum was in deep.

When he had heard of the attack on Faith and Padraig, the woman that had been killed in their own gardens, Varlum knew he had to come. Neither had done him a great deed, neither owed him anything. But Faith was responsible for the best night of Varlum's life, creating the suit he wore to a ball that opened his heart to Auya for the first real time. But this was about more than debt. Faith and Padraig were good people, people that tried to help others and had helped the same city Varlum was trying to help. They were known for it, known for the good deeds they did. It was why Varlum had heard their names, it was why all of Rharne and those outside of Rharne had heard their names. They were good people, and they had been attacked in his city.

As Faith spoke, Varlum's eyes watched the men and women in the room carefully, considering his options. Attack or defend sounded more like his speciality. While a part of him wanted to protect, his battles were fought with aggression. He could attack and make it, he could thrive in the fight. But perhaps him staying behind to defend would help save lives. Protecting people was why Ethelynda had marked him, it was why he was chosen as a Warden and a Lightning Knight. So, he left the choice to them.

"Whether you need me attacking or defending, I'll hold your position or kill anyone that stands in our way" Varlum offered, eyes meeting Faith's own. "I don't claim to be the best fighter going, but I can swing an axe, and I can bite through whatever it is Ellasin throws our way". For a trill, he considered what else he ought to say. There was so much that needed to be said, yet Faith had thought of most of it. What could Varlum bring to this table that was more than a strong jaw and a big axe?

"We should make use of everything Rharne has to offer. Creatures, the Lightning Knights, the Priestesses, the Wardens. Maybe we could go as far as to reach out to our allies. I know little of politics, but our city is run by an Immortal. An Immortal who's city is under threat as we speak. Whether it's for us or for Rharne, if she knows that this place is in danger, we might have a lot more help than we anticipated" he said with a glance around the room to all that stood in it. Now, of all times, the face he wanted to see was Vivian. She had always tried to teach him tactics and prepare him to be more than just a generic soldier, to make him a leader. He'd failed more often than not, but she would know what to say or what to do.

"Aside from that advice, I can offer you what I have. I'm a Mage, though not a good one. But I can learn, I can practice. Defiance and Hone. I'm marked by Ethelynda, and if I can get in touch with her, I might be able to gather us more help. I can at least try. I'm a Warden, which means I have a Diri that will help as best he can" Varlum admitted. "Aside from that, I'm a soldier. A big soldier, but a soldier. You need anything killed and I will kill it. You need anyone shielded, and I'll learn to use a shield."

"Just tell me what to do and I'll be there."
Last edited by Varlum on Tue Jun 11, 2019 12:56 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 614
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Re: [Zuudaria] No Haven For The Guilty

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Famula wasn't her Immortal. Maxine didn't know her, didn't trust her, and innately didn't like who she didn't trust on principle alone. The last thing she wanted to do was spill her blood to cross the threshold into some strange being's domain. The ex-convict was one of the last to do it but she did what was asked of her anyways.

One moment she was in the annoyingly welcoming abode of the Augustin clan. In the next she found herself in the middle of an ethereal graveyard. A heavy gloominess rested in the air, like there was a forced sense of peacefulness that came with death. It immediately unsettled her even with the alcohol fresh in her veins. Death was not peace. Not to her, and now she was walking through the path of an inescapable end she raged against.

She followed the others down the trail to the mausoleum. Its interior was just as unsettling as the graveyard. The ex-convict found herself reeling away from any floating veil quietly moving down the aisles or occupying an end seat. Damned ghosts. She never believed in them. Not until now at least. If Ambrosia wasn't a drug that focused her mind she would've sworn she was seeing thing. No such luck. As she eased into a seat away from the specter, she begrudgingly worked on accepting more of the world she didn't quite understand.

Sitting in Famula's stronghold. The Old Man would be losing his god damn shit.

It was an errant thought she wasn't sure why she had, regarding another ghost from a very long time ago. She shook it off as an intrusive thought and nothing more. Before long Faith indeed made her appearance, taking the podium by storm at the front of the mausoleum. Maxine lounged back uncomfortably in the wooden pew. Safe haven or not, there wasn't an element of the place that didn't keep her off edge.

Alchemy. Wisps. Zuuda. Yep, she was lost again. She let the words roll over her head like coral in the tide, arms crossed and defiant mind struggling to pay attention. Her interest was quickly found again. The Immortals had a stake in this vendetta, it appeared. Famula demanded the entire coven of mages destroyed. Max rolled her head over to stare at the back of the Special Assistant's head. There was a difference between "hey, help me kill a witch" versus going after an entire organized coven. She crossed her arms. The last time she was involuntarily yanked into such an undertaking she about lost a foot and her god damned mind. The very first seed of doubt planted itself, unassuming and innocent in her mind.

What the fuck am I doing here?

Talk of generals and war came next. Then she heard that name and her muscles seized despite herself, everything freezing as she felt that invisible strike all over again. She clenched her jaw and stared, eyes locked on the woman speaking at the front. The reason Qit'ria was dead. Her fingers dug into the wood of the pew edge. Max forced her sharp stare away toward the ceiling for a moment. She wasn't drunk enough for this, that was for damned sure. All she was was angry, but angry got shit done.

"Do we know where this bitch and her followers are?" Max wantonly broke the solemn focus of the mausoleum when Faith opened up the floor for input. "Until we do, half the plans we make will be for nothing. We're blind. She has the advantage, and your nice little manicured yard we've been camping on will turn into a killing field." She gestured toward Padraig then. "You've both got coin. Spread the word you'll reward information and have his network weed out the rumors. I've fought in the dark for a long time. You can fight in the dark if you can't see, but you'll never win if you can't compensate for it." Her gloved hands clenched into tight fists.

Find out where she is. I've got something for her.

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Last edited by Max on Thu Jun 06, 2019 3:56 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 705
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Re: [Zuudaria] No Haven For The Guilty

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There was an old saying attached to uneasy sensations, the feeling that someone had just walked over one's grave. Padraig had heard it more than once growing up, spoke by some old crone or aged wife or another, up and down the lane from where he was raised. Walking past his own would be grave as they walked where Faith led them, a place he'd been already before, gave new meaning to that phrase. It was as unsettling as it had been the first time. Better just to not think about that. They were here on important business.

He smiled, both outwardly and inwardly as Faith's reaction touched him through their unique connection. It was reassuring to know he wasn't the only one. 'I suspect that being free is more troublesome in ways, than being enslaved.' he thought, reaching back to her. 'That unique perspective is yours, and is more valuable than most people might realize.' And then Faith began to speak to those who'd come with them, both reassuring them, and telling them why they had come to this place in particular. He merely stood quiet and listened, until she was done.

She referred to him as the spymaster, and he quirked a brow and grinned dryly. She could say it, even believe it. He might with some effort pull off a good imitation and with practice, do a fairly good job of it. But he was a scholar by nature and by trade. Spying was not exactly his specialty. And when she was done, he cleared his throat and spoke. "This is too important, too critical and too many lives are at stake to allow ego to get in the way. Not anyone's, including mine," he said. "I am a physicist, an astrophysicist to be exact. An alchemist, a researcher. I am very good at researching, gathering and organizing information and data, drawing conclusions and predicting outcomes."

"What I am not, however, is an expert at military strategy. Far from it. Spymaster might also be a bit of a stretch," he admitted with a grin. "However, it occurs to me that collecting and organizing information, thereby forming strategy and predicting outcomes is also a science. The problem however is that we are facing an unpredictable adversary. We must learn to think like her, and be able to predict her, and her followers, next moved based on the intelligence that we gather. That requires a great deal of coordination, because information in the hands of one, does very little good to the others who don't receive it. And it does no good at all, in fact worse, should it fall into the wrong hands."

So, "those of you who may possess some sort or experience or expertise in this area....Please," he said, "your input isn't just welcome. It's critical. No idea is too small, too large, too silly or too impossible."
Last edited by Padraig on Wed Jun 12, 2019 3:20 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 492
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Re: [Zuudaria] No Haven For The Guilty

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Honestly he didn't know what he expected. At this point it was better to just throw away assumptions and roll with what came at you, because the past few trials had passed in such a blur, he was still only half-convinced this wasn't just some massive coma-induced hallucination from slamming his head into a tree. If that were the case, then this would be the moment he finally started to drift into a peaceful death. Chills spread up his exposed forearms Greyhide, Cold and Myrth all clustered around his feet in such eager bunching that he tripped over them more than once. Squeak had stood, forepaws propped on his shin and barked until he'd picked the little pup up. Even in the comfort of his arms, the little one shivered constantly.

Pointedly avoiding looking at all the pristine graves scattered so evenly as far as the eye could see, he hurried his steps towards the mausoleum, thinking that it might be warmer inside. It wasn't. "If only you had a wolf pelt," Grey lamented with a grin in his voice as Nir'wei took a seat and immediately felt Myrth hop up onto the bench next to him, lapping at his cheek. "It's not that cold, anyway. It's you." Maybe it was the constant and ever-present specter of death hanging directly over his head in this extremely uncomfortable realm. "Nope. Stress." Okay, yeah, or it could be that. The second thing that made him still feel like this was all a dream. The fact that they were genuinely sitting down and discussing killing a lich. An immortal creature. Like an Immortal themselves.

As Faith begun to talk, Grey hopped up onto his other side, creating a literal buffer of wolves on all sides that at least eased some of his shivering. His nerves? Well, they'd need a few more wolves to sate. Several hundred more, he soon realised, as Faith greeted them all and unloaded exactly why they were now talking in here, not in a nice warm living room. War. Actual war. "Why couldn't you pick the nice friends that solve their disputes by making cakes for each-other," Arch groaned as he felt his stomach sink to his feet. He would have, to, if not for Squeak still squirming about on his lap and distracting him with efforts to wriggle literally under his shirt. "On the bright side, it's not as if you have much to contribute." That much was horribly true. Hunting down someone, now that he could manage at least. Hell, he could even pretend he wasn't trying to hunt down his own predator. War was an entirely different ballgame. He had nothing except the animals, and even those he had a very short supply of.

He waited for an opening in the announcements before presenting himself, easing Squeak from his lap once more and standing. "Well, I..." Wait. "I can prepare mounts. Like I did for the Menagerie, the Lodge, the best I can do is prepare air and ground cavalry, but I need numbers of how many we have, and from where. Lightning Knight Justiciars and their Storm Rocs, Air Elements and Enormowls... plus one Sohr Khal, I can try and pull something together." His mind was racing a little. "But most of them are already here, trained and combat-ready. It doesn't matter how many we have right now, we need more. Something heavier." He could feel immediate resistance bubbling up from both Archailist and Greyhide. Yeah, this was probably a bad idea. A really bad idea. But hey, nothing too outrageous.

"Okay, look. Enormowls and Storm Rocs are fast, they'll always make great first-responders in any small skirmishes, flanking, whatever, but they'll never be able to go up against a fully armoured block. At best they'd clear out a few pockets in suicide dives, archers would take them out the moment they started climbing in a retreat. At worst they're nothing more than transport to get ground soldiers from A to B. Too big, too vulnerable." He knew he was rambling now, but his mind was still trying to catch up with itself. "Give me... I don't know, a solid handful of people, and I'll bring us back Jacadons. As big and mature as I can. Hell. I'll go after Scorn if that's what it takes, but we'll bring them back, and I'll shape up a solid air-assault team for you. I'll lead them."

All his handling in the Lodge had prepared him for this. Poppy and Gaspard would be beating him over the head seven times over for just suggesting it, considering how much they'd chastised him for wanting to one day climb the Sunset Isles and find a Jacadon to bond with. They melted men in their suits of armour and decimated whole bandit squads with a single well-placed spit of boiling steam. A well-organised squadron of them combined with the best qualities of other military factions as well? It sounded like an undertaking so overwhelming that it absolutely had to work. "I will say, it's not going to be easy convincing the King to allow us to... well, take arguably the most valuable assets of the Skyriders. In very large amounts. With no intention of returning them, since once a Jacadon bonds, it bonds for life and all. But it's going to be even worse trying to steal them from him and then traipsing all the way back across Rynmere to return them here. I wouldn't even know where to start with the diplomatic sleuthing." He'd never been a man of etiquette. Or personal grooming. "But, hey. If it works. Short of running across the world to Uthaldria, we will not find a better heavy assault team than one on the backs of Jacadons. I promise you. They will wipe out armies by themselves. Just give me the people to go and claim them."

Bloody damnation, he'd always dreamed of the day he travelled to the Sunset Isles. But never like this.
Last edited by Nir'wei on Sat Jun 08, 2019 2:49 am, edited 3 times in total. word count: 1038
We return to where we started, and pass onwards into history.
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Hart
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Re: [Zuudaria] No Haven For The Guilty

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Common sign"
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It was the first time that Hart had been to an immortal domain. Famula was the immortal of Souls, Servitude, Resurrection, and Blood, and it seemed her domain could not be what she could not be. Or rather, it was what she was.

Faith had said that blood had run down the walls in the house to bring them here, and Hart shivered as if having witnessed an omen. But while the thought of blood on the walls was unsettling, Famula's realm was not. Hart was marked by Vri. His fingertips were stained dark with the mark of Death. The graveyard, the wandering souls, and the mausoleum, they didn't frighten him.

What frightened him was what they had been called to do.

He had cut his hand to allow himself into this place, leaving a mark of blood on the door and bowing his head to enter. Now seated within the mausoleum, Hart huddled up into himself. His face looked grey in the dim light. He thought of the blood that had brought them all here and wondered how much blood would be spilled for Famula, for Ellasin, to kill this Coven. He wondered how many souls would be lost to this war.

War.

The very magnitude of it was nauseating.

They had been called here to have a discussion. The war general and spymaster had asked for suggestions, but Hart had little. He understood well that with his abilities, he was not up to this task.

But regardless, he would complete it.

He glanced at Faith. Her eyes were red.

War, he kept thinking. War.

When it came to Hart's turn to speak, his tone was gentle and meticulous, almost placating.

"The civil war in Rynmere," he said, "Was ended when the rebel king was slain in the midst of negotiations."

"The city outlasted the initial seige. The military and the jacadon destroyed the rest of the rebel encampment. And those rebels who were left within the city's walls were then also slain."

"I think," he muttered to himself.

He continued on.

"Overall, the rebellion was subdued by two to three separate, simultaneous acts of overwhelming warfare. Perhaps we should attempt the same."

"When it comes to intelligence," Hart said. "We might consider obfuscating our allies, our numbers, our wealth, and our competence. We might consider spreading false information at the same time that we are collecting information of our own."

"I can only assume that we'll have access to other Zuuda," he said. "This is Famula's war. But it might be wise to have agents within our network who are not marked by Famula. People who can spread rumors in bars and brothels and markets." He grimaced. "If we have access to necromancers of our own, any necromancers, they might prove to be some of our most reliable agents."

"I'm sorry I don't have more to offer," he said after a moment. "I can try to contact Tristan. I can try to contact Edasha. But I'm afraid that's all."
Last edited by Hart on Fri Jun 14, 2019 2:49 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 524
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Gennadiya Lyosha Doctor
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Re: [Zuudaria] No Haven For The Guilty

Rhe platinum haired healer found the Immortal’s realm unique and calming. Gennadiya lives with life and death. One never knew what would be brought through a healers doors on any given trial.You had to accept life as part of the options in a trial. She looked at the various tombstones and thought of those who had passed this way already. Her sister and her mother.

She had always found a peace in graveyard a place where you could think and so thought as she walked. She was glad to be here helping but she hadn’t ever offered to help with something so dramatic. What was she willing to do in the upcoming trials. Was she willing to kill.

She found a place among the others as they waited. Her expression still calm despite all of the new questions. Her sapphire eyes looking around at everyone. She was a healer and would heal anyone who came to her for healing. She had to decide if she was also willing to kill to protect. Her hand ran along the warfan at her side. Yes she believed She believed she was.

Her thoughts were left unfinished though as Faith spoke then. Gennadiya was surprised by Faith’s announcement that war had been declared. That Faith had been declared the General sisn’t Surprise her at all. That was just the type of woman she was. Gennadiya remained quiet for a long time as others spoke. Many of them bringing up good points and suggestions.

“We need to remember we will need excellent access to supplies, and they need to be secure. I hate to say this but as a healer I can’t stop serious wounds without necissary supplies and with the nature of our opponents we will need unique supplies and a lot of them.” She paused and the spoke again, “unsecured supplies brought cities to there knees. We will have to secure them in multiple locations.”
Last edited by Gennadiya Lyosha Doctor on Fri Jun 14, 2019 12:50 am, edited 2 times in total. word count: 328
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Re: [Zuudaria] No Haven For The Guilty

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Famula's realm was certainly a rather morbid place, but it was about what Kura had expected. It felt like Famula, to her, though changed, probably from the damage done to Emea. Many of the others certainly seemed to find it creepy as they walked through the mausoleum. Kura though, she had paused in front of one of the graves. Her own grave, to be exact. It was an odd feeling, seeing her own tombstone, but it was a strangely comforting thing. Kura was Mortalborn, but the long life was as much a curse as it was a blessing. She had seen so many friends and loved ones die around her as she continued on, sometimes coming to know their grandchildren decades after her death, and so many more would pass on before her task was done. Many saw her Immortality as an escape, a freedom from an end they fought to prolong. She saw it as a tool that came with a terrible cost, the ability to work at her goal of making Idalos safe for as long as needed, but done in an endless loop of making and losing friends, each loss gnawing at her soul. It was, to her, a comfort to look at her tombstone and know that she would not have to live forever. Then she huffed and took her out her pipe before taking her seat. Raskalarn knew she needed a smoke with the kind of talk this was likely to be.

When Faith made her introduction, then asked for whatever the rest of the group could bring, Kura let some of the other say their piece before she smiled and stepped forward. "Since we're here, I can say what I kept back in your livin' room. I am Mortalborn, Karem's daughter, and with all the powers that entails. Mine specifically are trackin', owls, and archery. If I have a trail, I can only be shaken through magical means. I can wipe out entire rooms of enemies with just a short bit of preparation time and if I can see somethin', I can get an arrow to it. I can also communicate with owls, have them workin' off of my intelligence instead of my own." she said, her tone short and to the point.

"In addition, without modesty, I may very well be the best politician in Idalos, so if we run into diplomatic troubles, I can solve them. I also know a great deal about the Immortals, so if we need to deal with them, I can help with that as well. Finally, I have a fairly good workin' knowledge of the...oddities of Idalos, so if we run across somethin' that don't quite...behave as nature says it should, I can help us get around that." she said, before pausing a moment as something occurred to her.

"Oh, and as I recall, the two of you have a fairly good relationship with my mother, yeah?" she said, gesturing at Faith and Padraig with the stem of her pipe. "In fact, I seem to recall that mum told the two of you that if were needin' some serious help, you could ask the Eternal Empire for aid and expect to recieve it. Now, while swingin' the full military might of Her Majesty's legions at Ellasin might be gettin' a bit unwieldy, the empire has no shortage of specialists for troublesome situations, and it might do us good to have those at our beck and call." she said, said, before sitting down and smoking her pipe as the others spoke.
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Patrick
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Re: [Zuudaria] No Haven For The Guilty

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How did it come to this? Here within the domain of what many would think was a realm of a Goddess, the Immortal of souls and servitude being one that Pat never hoped to cross. Here in a place where a number of friends started to gather, all so they could prepare for an impending war with probably the most powerful scum of Idalos. Ellasin... He hated her for a multitude of reasons, each layered with their own sense of spite that clearly amalgamated into one pure entity. Yet even if his hate empowered him to see her death, Patrick didn't forget that he had a role to play in all of this. He wasn't here just to kill Ellasin even though that was the main cause, no he had others to look after now that he saw who all gathered here.

It became even more apparent as he and his brother traversed the graveyards towards the mausoleum, those who were all here weren't just strangers anymore but people with lives. Lives that were much different than his own but still important to the cause, because they brought to this fight an essence of diversity which felt most crucial to the cause. "I can't imagine finding mum in a place like this." Dominek remarked as they reached the entrance together, a brief chuckle escaping from the two as they found a spot near the entrance. It had been a good place to sit back and watch from afar, while the bulk of the crowd planned for the best chances of success.

Soon enough Faith herself appeared to address the meeting, with the assurance that none would be able to hear or bother them. Not in this place anyways... Just the idea that mere mortals walked inside a Domain of an Immortal? None of it sat well with Patrick and while his gears would've slowly churned, in ways to creatively tear this place apart no less, he knew now wasn't the time to think about undermining the influence of Immortals. Not when they would likely play a pivotal role to come in the battles ahead...

Thus the meeting began with everyone pitching in on their ideas, on ways to beat Ellasin by doing what Faith had just said. Keeping two steps ahead of a Necromantis like her though? That already felt impossible as Patrick could only imagine the Arcs put into her work, the influence in which she carried all throughout the regions of the continents. Which meant if they had to be better... then they needed every resource at their disposal, and sure enough with the addition of things like alchemy, the Zuuda, and all the other things started coming into the picture. War generals and Scout masters were things that he didn't fully grasp either, in fact Patrick saw a literal structural hierarchy forming before him and truthfully? It unsettled him in the most obvious of ways, yet these were times where his comfort didn't matter. They needed to win no matter the cost, and if that meant he'd play a role... then so be it.

And then Maxine who he slowly started to admire even more seemed to pitch in. What she had to say was a pretty valid point to make, thus it became apparent that whatever knowledge they could gather seemed imperative. "What do you think?" Dominek murmured as Patrick looked back at the head of the meeting, curious as to whether or not the memory of meeting Ellasin wasn't the only thing he found useful.

"Fury's right," he added in as he placed his bottle down on the pew he and Dom sat on, "without any means of locating their bases we're left vulnerable. Scouts can only go so far unless we find sources of information from those who've been on the inside." He remarked with a cross of his arms. "I only know the one just as you did Faith, but I've not seen or heard from him in a long time. But he could very well have information on where a few of the bases are, one I know because he had to have gone somewhere with her when they were in Rharne together!" To think that he lived so close to one of their bases now made him sick, all those mages hidden away in the dark as they did whatever covert operations they pleased.

Meanwhile he'd been out trying to make the best of his wild and whimsical life, that is up until now when war seemed to be on the horizon. While he might not be much of a fighter in his current condition, Patrick wasn't going to waste this opportunity to help out those he counted among friends. "If it makes any difference I could try to write a letter for information, other then that though I'm open to hear all these ideas everyone has to pitch in." He finished before sitting down next to his brother once more, the bottle clutched loosely as he slowly drank from it when everyone else chipped in.

"Patrick", "Follower"
Last edited by Patrick on Thu Jun 13, 2019 11:50 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 864
"Freedom is everything."


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Sephira
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Posts: 545
Joined: Fri Dec 22, 2017 6:40 pm
Race: Mixed Race
Profession: Element
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Re: [Zuudaria] No Haven For The Guilty

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She hated this place, and so did the Rupturing Spark within her. The fabric of reality here was different. It was like wearing a tunic made from wool in the summer. The graves were equally disturbing and did nothing to change her quickly souring opinion of Zuudaria.

Sephira shifted uncomfortably as they moved through the dim interior of the mausoleum. Working with Immortals brought her no joy or comfort. The lot of them could be manipulative halfwits when they chose to be.

She was here for Faith and because the Militant had given her orders.

It was that simple.

Her allegiance to Famula the Immortal of Souls was nonexistent. She didn't care who she was or what she represented. Perhaps Faith wouldn't really approve of that attitude but the Special Assistant was there because of the threat that the Coven represented; to Faith, Scalvoris and the world. It also concerned her that the Coven was essentially a group of mages who had decided that being a part of society was not for them. So instead they had turned inwards to their own kind and toward violence. Life as a mage was always a struggle, but that did not mean that you had to turn your back on the world.

Her footsteps echoed dully on the marble steps as they descended downwards. Max was right behind her. There was a small comfort in knowing that the ex-convict was at her back in this alien place where everything around her felt so strange.

In time they all finally made it down into their meeting place. At least here they knew that Ellasin and her Coven could not spy on them. Sephira had been worried from the start about other Rupturers scrying their location and their numbers. Defeating the Coven would require keeping them in the dark about their numbers and their resources. This place would at least give them a sanctuary from any magical prying eyes.

One by one the members of the group spoke, laying out everything that they could contribute to the campaign. Maxines own points were actually well reasoned, which she hadn’t expected in all honesty. Sephira was here with a military force, and the Elements were not known for their spycraft and intelligence networks. They would need that edge.

“I agree, we are blind. We can’t remain that way.” Sephira added, following Maxine’s own comment.

“And we have the resources, but we can’t let the Coven know what we have. Otherwise they will always be able to out maneuver us.” The mage sighed, slipping her hand in the pocket of her leather coat and propping the other on the hilt of her saber as she always tended to do when she was thinking.

“We need to turn this into a shell game. So they don’t see us coming.” Sephira finally said, recalling the memory of children and gamblers in the streets of Scalvoris Town with shells or cups and betting on which one had the hidden treasure beneath it.

“Thankfully we have mobility on our side. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m a Rupturer. I can open portals over vast distances, scry remote locations and people among other things. Also,” she paused, glancing at Faith before continuing. “Scalvoris is committing roughly a tenth of our military force to this mission. Ten thousand Elements are at my command in order to help you end Ellasin and her Coven.”

The Special Assistant stepped back, crossing her arms having presented the resources she was equipped to provide. With that she would wait and listen to see how they wanted to proceed. It was clear that they had substantial allies and aid at their beck and call. But none of that would do them an ounce of good if the Coven knew they were coming.
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