• Closed • The Mountain King

[Tio Silver]

The Mountain King

35th Ashan, 720
Scalvoris Mountains

Balthazar

Balthazar reached out with his attunement spark, attempting to pierce the veil of mist surrounding him with omnivision. Yet even through his mind's eye the world around him was concealed behind a thick fog, and no way out presented itself. What he did notice however was that the mist was beginning to swirl, condensing around him like water draining through a plughole. If he opened his eyes again he would see that the entire world around him; Xanax's office, his parents, Morgan and Xanax, were breaking apart and fading into mist. The world was collapsing in on itself.

"This is your answer then?" Xanax spoke mournfully, the withered flesh and skin slowly peeling away from his face as wisps of mist and leaving naught but a skeleton behind. "You choose love over strength, even when it is given by those unworthy of you? Very well. Prove to me that I am wrong. Prove to me that, despite those parasites, you can make fate take notice of you." His face was completely skeletal now, yet even though his eye sockets were empty something about them gave the impression that they were looking directly at him, issuing him a challenge. "I pray that you too will not end up devoured, just as all the others like you are."

And with those parting words he too crumbled away, leaving Balthazar surrounded by nothing but a vortex of white. The mist swirled around him with increasing intensity, building up around him like a storm about to unleash it's terrible wrath.


Victor

The axe dug deep into Victor's eye, and a torrent of mist burst out from the wound like air rushing from a balloon. Giant Stefan began to rapidly shrink, and around Victor all the other beings made of mist, Jonathan included, began to decompose into mist as well. Stefan clutched at his eye and howled into pain, trying in vain to prevent the mist from seeping from his wound, yet it slipped through his fingers.

"THAT IS YOUR ANSWER THEN! YOU WILL CLING WITH SUCH FERVENCY TO BOTH LIVES, EVEN IF THEY TEAR YOU APART?!" He bellowed, but already his voice was loosing strength. Within moment Stefan had shrunk down back to human size, but even then his body was unnaturally thin and withered, as if the muscle had been stolen away from it. He fell to his knees before Victor, gasping for breath.

"Prove that I am wrong then. Not with words, but with action." He hissed, his voice now thin and hollow. With his one remaining eye he glared up at Victor. "Prove to me that you can live two lives, or else you shall end up just as broken as I am."

And with those parting words he too crumbled away, leaving Victor surrounded by nothing but a vortex of white. The mist swirled around him with increasing intensity, building up around him like a storm about to unleash it's terrible wrath.


Woe

The old man shook his head sadly at Woe's outburst. "No, it was not Erastus. It never was. His own crimes were many, but this..." he looked out across the hell before them. "This was all you. This is the world entirely of your creation, and what will envelop the entire world if you continue."

Woe called upon the power of his domain over hierarchies, and to his relief it worked as he intended. He shifted down through the sea of chains, his hands blinking between pairs of shackles as he moved down the ranks of slavery closer towards those unfortunate ones sacrificed in the flames of ambition. Soon he was by the children's sides, and with a great force of will he forced them up the hierarchy he'd descended down, watching as they blinked out of existence and reappeared each bound to one of the shackles that'd suspended him over the ocean. They were safe for now, though by his sacrifice he himself was now mere seconds away from being consumed by the hellfire, and to his horror he would find that his domains did not work any further.

"That was a good thing you did." Said a now familiar voice, and Woe would notice that once again the old man had appeared by his side. There was an ever so slight smile on his lips now, and he looked at Woe with a tiny measure of respect. "Two drops of kindness in an ocean of cruelty can make a world of difference to those who are drowning. You've made a good start Woe, but there is still so much more work to be done. Please, don't forget that."

The flames of hell licked at his feet and then up across his body as Woe was dragged into the inferno, and for a moment he felt a burning agony unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. Then in a flash the world turned into white mist, and for a split second Woe had the feeling that he was falling.


Yeva

Yeva reached out to give the satyr a hug yet to her surprise this time her arms simply passed through his body, leaving thin wisps of smoke in their wake. It was as if the mist surrounding her was growing thicker at the expense of the satyr's physical body, for even now he seemed to be becoming increasingly transparent. Though open, his eyes had a vacant look about them that suggested he wasn't really seeing through them anymore. He was dispersing; relinquishing his hold on the physical world for some purpose., and the mist surrounding her had now grown so thick that Yeva could not see the walls of the cave anymore.

Then Yeva pondered the riddle, and after much deliberation gave her answer: Truth.

Abruptly the mist froze. There was absolute stillness for a moment as nothing moved nor made a sound.

Then the satyr's voice echoed from all around her, his tone a complex mixture that contained hints of exasperation and amusement, but for the most part sounded relieved.

"Well done. You are correct."


All

The mist abruptly began to swirl in a different direction, as if caught by a sudden strong gust of wind, and as it thinned out they all found themselves together in the cavern Yeva had been in, now standing only a few feet apart from each other. Balthazar and Victor was standing as they had been whilst Woe was lying on the floor, not at all burnt or injured from his experience. Breen was in the pool of water next to them, paddling towards his master.

The mist that had surrounding the entire mountain was now quickly gathering and condensing before Yeva, reforming into the satyric body of the Truth. He wore a small but honest smile on his lips, and took Yeva's offered hand to give it a shake. "It's nice to meet you properly Yeva. And-... thank you."

When the handshake ended he looked over to the three mages sighed. "Well this is going to be awkward. I guess your buddies must be pretty confused as to what the hell is going on huh? I'll leave you to catch them up. I'd offer to help, but I have the horrible feeling they're going to want to punch my face in." He pointed over to a tunnel on the opposite side of the cavern than the one Yeva had entered from. "That way will take you to the peak of the mountain, where The Majesty and their prisoner are. You'll also be passing by where my rebellious sister is sleeping, and knowing her she'll probably help you out if you really intend to go ahead with challenging the throne."

He looked back to Yeva."Oh, and one more thing. Remember what I said about Anak? Their Majesty literally is this mountain you're standing in, and you can't fight a mountain. They may draw power from the condemned one, but they can only use that power as long as they stand upon Mount Ornthrus. That is the only shot you have of defeating them. Understand?" He hesitated, looking unsure of himself for a moment. "You're a good kid for a human. I hope you make it through this. Good luck."

General Info

Congratulations! You've all survived Truth's trial!
We're getting close to peak of the mountain now, and the showdown with Their Majesty.

I would ask you to please respond by the 30th of May, or to PM me if this is not possible.

Rules

Other than violence and the odd swear words I would ask that there not be any explicit adult themes.

Mod Style

I am shamelessly copying this style of moderation (and the template structure) from Pegasus, who I gather was taught it by someone called Crimson, because it looks like it works really well and I'd like to give it a try. Imitation is the highest form of flattery after all. My thanks to both of them.

The NPCs do not reflect my own personal thoughts of feeling on any subject. They are just characters.

As I'm only a guest mod I'm not going to kill your character, severely wound them or anything like that, but I would like to give fair rewards/consequences for any actions taken in this thread. If you feel that these are at all unfair please let me know.

Otherwise let's have some fun!

Obectives

Must Do

• Head through the tunnel to meet The Rebel.

Can Do

• Talk to each other. You could share your experiences. (Note: Yeva has learnt what's going on, so it may be worth asking her to fill you in. Yeva if you wouldn't mind posting after everyone else that would be great.)
• Talk to Truth. He's pretty wary of all the mage though, so if you attack him he's already prepared to dodge.

[Balthazar Black]

35 Ashan 720

Something about the final words the mist departed with was incredibly calming to Balthazar. Whatever was creating this mist and whatever fowl purpose it had, it didn't really know if he would have been better without Isabella. That was all the reassurance that Balthazar needed. The mist couldn't know, but he did. When he reached out with his senses, Balthazar found himself still stranded within the mist, so he opened his eyes again. The world around him was collapsing and yet Balthazar didn't feel endangered. It was the lie, the deception, the falsehood being washed away before him into a swirling storm of whatever it was. Now the swirling storm seemed a little more imposing so Balthazar did drop back into a little more of a combat ready position...

Which was what he was standing in when the mist fell and the truth was revealed to them all. Not even a trill passed before Balthazar's hands ignited, lit ablaze with blue flames. His eyes locked on the satyr with murderous intent and Balthazar began to advance towards the spirit. Roasted satyr, anyone? Balthazar raised a hand to hurl a mote of fire when he saw Yeva standing relatively unharmed beside the spirit... unharmed for now. She was too close for the stream of fire Balthazar meant to kill the satyr with. She might get burned. That alone saved the spirit from what might have been an entirely ineffective stream of fire. Balthazar took a deep breath and the blue flames circling his hands dissipated.

"Yeva, move out of the way." Balthazar instructed simply. The desire for murder still in his eyes. Who was the spirit to pry in his mind? To make him see things he didn't want to see. Magic made him weak? Balthazar would see who felt weak when the satyr was on fire. Balthazar had quelled the flames, but he could do nothing to hide the sparks dancing off his body as his mutation took effect. Rage, and with it electricity... would the satyr be fast enough to dodge lightning? Well now that the satyr knew he meant to harm it... maybe. The satyr seemed to try and provide directions but given what had happened the last time they listened to something on the mountain, Balthazar had a hard time believing the spirit.

[Victor Amielle]

The moment that Victor’s axe dug into the false Stefan’s eye, a torrent of mist burst out of the wound. The noble almost dropped the axe out of surprise, and his eyes widened as his false brother began to shrink rapidly. A moment later, when his gaze fell on the Aberrant that he had tried to save, he let out a scream. He reached for him, in order to pull him close, to save him somehow, before it was too late, but he couldn’t even touch him. The mist slipped through his fingers, and Jonathan continued to become less and less until there was nothing left of him, and he realized that he had lost him a second time.

“I don’t care if it tears me apart”, he replied in a harsh tone of voice as he spun around in order to look at his false brother once more, his eyes ablaze. The other man was gasping for breath now, but he didn’t care. Stefan hadn’t cared when his lover had died, at least not nearly enough. “I have to at least give it a try. I deserve more than this here. I deserve to have a chance as well. Broken?” he asked a moment later and laughed out loud, a bitter laughter. “Do you want me to pity you now? You never pitied me. You never gave my feelings any consideration. You only wanted me to become like you.”

With that, Victor turned away from his false brother, just as the storm began to unleash his terrible wrath. His eyes widened in panic for a moment. The storm stopped as quickly as it had begun though, and then he found himself in a cavern, looking at his companions once more. For a moment, he just stood there and blinked in confusion, his mind reeling, feeling lost – and desperate, because the mage that he had loved, the mage he had been told he should never have loved in the first place, was gone again.

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the satyr that was standing near Yeva before he crossed his arms over his chest and wanted to know, “Was this your doing? What does confronting me with my dead lover have to do with what we have come for?” The Devout had spoken of an important mission, of preventing a catastrophe which was something that he was still inclined to help accomplish. Since they had begun to ascend the mountain, he had encountered nothing but lies and pain though, and he was not inclined to trust the satyr as a consequence. The path might take them closer to their destination, but it might just as well lead them to their doom.

It seemed as if he might not be the only one who had been subjected to what essentially constituted torture, he realized, as he turned to look at Balthazar. The murderous look in the white-haired mage’s eyes was more than obvious. He seemed to have experienced something similar. He briefly considered stopping him, because he was not entirely sure about committing a violent act in such a strange place, because he was still not sure what exactly they were dealing with, because the mission still mattered, but then he simply stepped back.

He had finally started to recover from the events in Lysoria to some extent – he had finally stopped thinking of what had happened every night - and he didn’t appreciate being reminded of it. If Balthazar decided to attack the creature, he would not intervene, but simply let him kill it.

[Woe]

The old shade's voice could be heard to the side. He gave assurances that it was a kindness that he did to those two children. But then, the old man misconstrued Woe's motives. He agreed that slavery was a abomination, he could acknowledge that it robbed men and women of agency. Slaves were little better than dead flesh. Walking and proceeding in chains devoid of any hope or resistance to their fate. Slavery broke souls before they had occasion to ripen for the harvest.

A harvest that Woe intended to reap for his own benefit.

He sneered at the old man, "Twas no kindness, old shade or whatever you may be. I will find them again, in the fullness of their power, and watch all they've built crumble around them."

So saying, Woe descended into the flames and mist and madness that lay below him. He fell until he reemerged from the other side of the illusion.

Woe had much to consider as he reappeared next to his travel companions. As they travelled forth, he would follow with them. While he had scorned Truth for his benevolent bleatings, there was... well, a truth to what he said about slavery. If nothing else, the torturer had cause to reconsider his thoughts on slavery.

Breen, meanwhile, noticed Balthazar seething with rage and what might've been sorrow. He padded back over toward the other mage, nuzzling against his leg piteously and whining, trying to draw out what sorrow he could from the mage. Woe turned to watch the shepherd, wondering what he was trying to do.

"Breen, away from him..." Woe thought he could sense the turmoil boiling beneath the surface of the other mage. He didn't want his spirit kin to suffer the consequences of that fury, as the beast tried to take away his companion's sadness.

"Breen! Come!" Woe repeated more forceful this time.

[Yeva]

Truth? You Can't Handle the Truth

"Well done. You are correct."

He shook her hand and she breathed a sigh of smiling relief. She still had a lot to learn about spirits and he was surely nothing like anything or anyone she had met before, ethereal in existence, "Thank you?"

She didn't quite understand why he was thanking her, but as the mist swirled and the sounds of sloshing water echoed off the cavern walls, Yeva looked over her shoulder to find her companions returned to her once more, alongside Breen who was no dog at all. He paddled across the water and climbed from it with attention focused on Balthazar who was...

Thrumming with fire and fury.

"Yeva, move out of the way."

Brown eyes widened and she realized at once the threat in his voice. She had heard it before in others, and seeing the anger in his eyes, she knew whatever Truth had done had upset the Yari and deeply. But he had done nothing to hurt her. She searched the faces of the others, heard Woe call away Breen and her full lips set themselves into a determined line. She was scared, Balthazar was bigger, stronger, and... well... sparking with intent to kill. But Truth had kept his word, he had followed his nature.

"No."

What was she doing? She couldn't fight a mage! She couldn't even fight a regular human, let alone defend or dodge whatever Balthazar's plan was. Her only hope was that he wouldn't hurt her - and that might be a stretch. They had worked together before but there was much to him she didn't know or understand. Digging her heels into the dark rock, she held out her arms to each side, creating a bigger obstacle between her and the satyr, "You have to calm down. Don't do this."

It was not just the white-haired man who was upset. Victor brought up an accusation that confused the medic. Confrontation of dead lovers and disturbing pasts. What had Truth shown them? What had they seen?

There were spirits who disliked humans, especially mages. She glanced over at the tunnel Truth had pointed at. He claimed it would take them where they needed to go, which made little sense but with the mist and whispering spirits, logic was a funny thing, "I'm sorry, but we have to go. There isn't enough time. Please-" The relief she had felt with solving the puzzle was soon turning to distress, thinking of the time they would lose if they didn't move, "The Majesty is drawing power from a condemned of Ashan. I'll explain what I can on the way. Let's just leave."

She searched their faces, cautiously stepping forward and trying to gesture them towards the tunnel, "Victor? Woe?" she took another creeping step, "Breen?"

Then, with a final attempt to get Balthazar to stifle his rage long enough to finish the mission, she extended a hand towards him, big brown eyes pleading, "I won't go unless you do, remember?"

[Tio Silver]

The Mountain King

35th Ashan, 720
Scalvoris Mountains

It had to be said that Balthazar cut an intimidating figure striding forth with blue flames. The light from Balthazar's unnatural fire bathed the cavern in pale cyan, and cast creeping shadows across the walls that seemed to follow him like wraiths. Yet Truth did not flinch nor back away, only look back at him with a guarded expression and an air of resignation. When Victor asked his questions Truth replied in a short, clipped tone, but never broke eye contact with the engaged Defier.

"The mission The Majesty gave me was to stall anyone who tried to reach the peak of the mountain until their plan was enacted. In order to do that I used my power on the three of you, which sent you inside your own minds. But as for what you saw in there..." He shook his head. "That was not within my control. Illusions fall under my sister's domain, not mine. My power is to force someone to confront the lies they tell themselves; the truths that they realise deep down but refuse to accept. It was originally meant to be a tool of therapy, to help you mortals reconcile your hearts with your minds. But nobody really wants the truth. Whatever monsters you saw were of your own creation. I forced you to see them."

He sighed and looked away. "Which was kind of a dick move, I'll admit, but to be fair you guys are-... were, the enemy. And you're trespassing on The Majesty's territory. You wouldn't pull your own punches against an assassin trying to kill your king would you? I didn't know at the time that none of you knew what was going on here. Whoever sent you sounds like a right twat."

He nodded his head towards Yeva. "Anyway your friend here found me, explained what was going on and won a contest to secure your freedom. Now you can stay here and waste time trying to set me on fire if you want, but The Majesty will be making their move any moment now. If I was you I'd get going."

General Info

Bit of a short one this week, mainly because there's not much to do until you reach the next stage.
We're getting close to peak of the mountain now, and the showdown with Their Majesty.

I would ask you to please respond by the 13th of June, or to PM me if this is not possible.

Rules

Other than violence and the odd swear words I would ask that there not be any explicit adult themes.

Mod Style

I am shamelessly copying this style of moderation (and the template structure) from Pegasus, who I gather was taught it by someone called Crimson, because it looks like it works really well and I'd like to give it a try. Imitation is the highest form of flattery after all. My thanks to both of them.

The NPCs do not reflect my own personal thoughts of feeling on any subject. They are just characters.

As I'm only a guest mod I'm not going to kill your character, severely wound them or anything like that, but I would like to give fair rewards/consequences for any actions taken in this thread. If you feel that these are at all unfair please let me know.

Otherwise let's have some fun!

Obectives

Must Do

• Head through the tunnel to meet The Rebel.

Can Do

• Talk to each other. You could share your experiences. (Note: Yeva has learnt what's going on, so it may be worth asking her to fill you in. Yeva if you wouldn't mind posting after everyone else that would be great.)

[Balthazar Black]

35 Ashan 720

Yeva defied Balthazar and his eyes narrowed at her. They'd worked together before on enough occasions that he didn't want to burn her alive as well. However in terms of expendable partners, she was the least likely to have any useful combat prowess. Perhaps her most useful moment was behind her and Balthazar could risk the loss... but did he hate the satyr enough to harm Yeva? Yeva insisted that there was no time and Balthazar shook his head. "It won't take more than a moment." Balthazar insisted. He'd put out the flames around his hands but the sparks arcing around him continued to betray his emotions. He didn't understand any of what Yeva said and as a result, it did little to improve his mood. How could she trust the spirit that had trapped them? How could she know that it wasn't lying as part of some longer game?

Then Breen came to him. Balthazar was more of a cat person but that didn't mean he didn't like dogs. The creature seemed an adequate distraction to bring Balthazar back to his senses but unfortunately not adequate to make Balthazar forget his rage. He looked back to the satyr as it unapologetically explained it's actions. Therapy? The lies he told himself? These words seemed to reignite the rage behind Balthazar's eyes only now he knew where those around him stood on the issue. Yeva would defend the spirit because it had left her alone, everyone else the spirit had messed with seemed alright with Balthazar attacking. The spirit even admit to serving the King on the mountain. Balthazar had decided was an enemy... but if they were to be pressed for time he would have to come back for this one. So as he stared at the expositing spirit with hate in his eyes, Balthazar attempted to attune to him. He didn't need to hold the attunement forever... he didn't even need to hold it for the rest of his time on the mountain. In the past, learning the frequency was all he needed to find the frequency's owner. He assumed the same would apply to the spirit.

Yeva had saved it... for totrial. At last Balthazar spoke to the spirit. "If you'd learned anything from your trickery, you'd know I've been pulling punches against assassins coming after me for a long time now." Isabella had sent a few after all and he still loved her. "What makes you a dick is that she explained that we didn't know better and you still made her win a contest to set us free." Balthazar was not doing such a good job of staying calm. He turned to Yeva who he expected would lead them forth from here to wherever they were meant to go next. "If you want to protect the goat-man, fine, but you had better put me in front of something to kill soon." His gaze shifted back to the spirit once more and then Balthazar pat Breen. There was certainly more than enough sorrow beneath the anger but it was slowly slipping away. Either because of Balthazar's discipline or the dog.

[Woe]

Woe was displeased enough that he wouldn't have minded if Balthazar or Victor attacked the spirit. He scoffed, yes scoffed, at the audacity of the suggestion that a spirit thought it was equipped to commit any of them to therapy. Woe was well acquainted with the mortal mind, and doubted such a simple being as a spirit could even interface properly with any of their minds. Even the way it communicated with them was a mere act of imitation. It couldn't truly see eye to eye with any of them. They were not equals.

He ground his teeth briefly, and then turned away from Breen, who was still worrying at Balthazar's side, and responded to the creature's claim, "You, a spirit, think you're capable of understanding the vast complexities of the human mind? You spirits are chained to your concepts, whereas we humans are sailing as a vessel on a sea of concepts. What conceit drove a droplet in that sea to consider and judge those who sail upon it?" Even for a spirit that embodied the concept of the Truth, this creature seemed arrogant to presume as much; given completely over to hubris.

It was then the mage decided to investigate this spirit in detail. His next words would be vital, as they carried the ether of his Empathy awakening, that would allow him to manipulate the spirit's tangle, if it had one. At the very least he could monitor the creature's emotional makeup, but he wanted to let his words to deliver his venom, in case he decided to act on it.

"Oh, I'm trespassing am I? Shall I leave then? I have something that will see me out of your 'The Majesty's' territory in the blink of an eye. I'd almost prefer to see this through, to meet the one who brought us here and give him a... thought or two."

So saying, he searched the creature's tangle (if it had one), scanning the tapestry of its emotions to single out images or clues as to what it's true motives might be. He'd never tried Empathy on a spirit before, and so wasn't sure what he'd find.

Breen turned away from Balthazar then, and began taking steps toward Woe, "Master, what are you doing...? And did you mean what you said about spirits?"

Woe shook his head, sending thoughts back to his familiar, "It's true, as I see it, Breen. Take no offense. You aren't the one who's overstepped his place in the world."

Breen whined, but followed as Woe excused himself after finding what he could about the spirit. He followed the rest wherever they decided to go.

[Victor Amielle]

Yeva was the only one who had seemed to have some sort of positive experience, judging by her words, Victor decided – or at least her experience had been less negative than theirs. She informed them that there wasn’t enough time and that the majesty was supposedly drawing power from a condemned of Ashan. His eyebrows rose for a moment as he heard that before his gaze drifted towards Balthazar once more, wondering what the other man would do before the … creature finally began to speak.

It explained its actions. It likely meant to calm them down, but its words only irritated Victor further. All that talk about the truth and therapy reminded him too much of that little healer, Zihaqihs, that he had met in Melrath prior to Niflheim had said to him. She had told him that he needed a doctor because he was unwell. She had claimed that he had mental problems and should speak to someone that specialized in treating problems of the mind, that it would only get worse if he didn’t.

He had considered such to be unnecessary then, and he considered such to be unnecessary now.

“I’m not the one who needs therapy”, he informed the creature, coughing briefly before he crossed his arms crossed over his chest. “Whatever problems I have now – or suffered from in the past – are due to the actions of others and their refusal to understand me, to let me be my own person, to accept the choices that I made. They tried to force their views on me. They are the ones who need therapy, although such therapy only makes things worse in my opinion.”

He put a noticeable emphasis on the word ‘therapy’. He knew very little about psychology, but confronting someone who had only just recovered from their trauma with the worst moment of their life again seemed counterproductive to him at best and rather damaging at worst. As for forcing someone to confront the lies they told themselves and helping mortals reconcile their hearts with their minds? He shook his head.

“There was no lie involved, at least not in my case. I felt what I felt and did what I did – the others lied to me and made promises that they decided to break later on”, he told the satyr, wording things somewhat vaguely as he didn’t think that any of his companions would understand that he had fallen for an Aberrant and a murderer once upon a time. He needed to say something though. The creature was, quite obviously, delusional.

He knew very little of spirits – apart form his brief interactions with Jonathan’s Harvester, a creature who he had never trusted nor really liked – when Woe talked about them being chained to their concepts though, he nodded. From what he had observed so far, it didn’t seem as if the creature really understood them – or the situation at hand.

“What Balthazar said is true”, he confirmed the Defier’s words, trying to suppress another cough. “We didn’t know any better. We weren’t told that we would be trespassing on someone’s territory, and yet you blamed us, considered us the enemy and messed with our minds – and make Yeva participate in some sort of obscure contest to secure our freedom.”

He had half a mind to simply abandon the mission now in spite of his previous decision and in spite of the fact that Yeva who he trusted, quite unlike that Devout who had withheld important information, had insisted that it was important; but unlike Woe, he had no means to easily leave the mountain again. He glanced at Balthazar once more – and then back at the creature, wondering if he should bury an ether missile in its chest after all. When the Defier decided not to attack, but followed Yeva instead, he forced himself to inhale and exhale deeply, to calm down, to relax to some extent, considering the situation at hand before he inclined his heard sharply and proceeded to follow his companions.

[Yeva]

Public Enemy

No one seemed particularly happy with her or her request to hold the peace but could she blame them? Yeva was not sure what they had seen or experienced, yet they were quick to jump down Truth's throat for his riddle and the visions he had shown her companions. She wanted to ask why they were being so cruel to Truth who had been a decent enough host... given that he was under the thumb of a being who would rather see them dead. And this same being, the King of the Mountain, was in control. By pushing back, by disobeying, what would that mean for Truth? Even if by giving them a chance, wasn't he giving all the other humans, the ones who had always been so mean to him, a chance still?

"Sorry," she muttered sadly, feeling the anger and frustration radiate from her teammates like a Saun heatwave, "They're... just upset. It's been a lot to process." She couldn't rationalize what each of them were feeling or the reasoning behind it, but she knew that lying would do very little. If her understanding of concepts was clear enough, it was likely Truth could see right through any attempt at false comfort. She appreciated that he didn't see them as an enemy anymore, at the very least.

"Bye, Truth."

Yeva allowed the others to stomp past her and she closed her eyes, took a deep breath that pulled her shoulders higher and she followed continued onward. After a few steps, she wanted to break the tense silence that had seemed to weigh heavy on their group, "Why do you think a mountain Induk would be so upset with humans that it would want to bring them harm?"

The redhead was feeling less cowardly than when she had arrived, but there was still caution in her voice. With each step, she reached out and ran her hand along the rock wall, feeling its coarse edges that caused the fingertips of her gloves to feel begin to fray, "Maybe they were mining?" she pursed her lips, knowing they would likely not wish to hear mention of the Anak they had just left, but she had said she would explain further, "Truth said the Induk is upset, that he doesn't like mortals. So he has a condemned of Ashan and uses that to draw the other spirits to him, with promise of more power. Then he can just tell them what to do. Hey-" she slowed, "You all saw something different, but he said...Never mind." she tried to think.

Illusions were his sister's domain. So the Satyr hadn't been the cause of their poor visions. But didn't he say she had been sleeping and locked away? How could she have interfered? And what kind of Spirit was the old woman? And why didn't Breen know any more than they did? Was it possible one spirit couldn't infer what another concept was?

"Are we meeting Truth's sister? Her concept is Illusions," It felt important to repeat the information as they moved, especially given that everyone but her had not liked what they had seen, "Truth said she'd help us, but I don't know how we can fight an entire mountain. We'd likely have to find the condemned and rescue him... Or... Get him away from here."

After all, just because he was being used by an Induk, didn't mean he was necessarily a good person.