World of Ede Roleplay ( part 1 )

[Jamie]

As the bird flew through the nights air there was a cold harsh wind opposing him, fighting its way into the birds small lungs to pierce it with a cold taint. Breaking into a dive the air thrust itself as if in a blocking stance trying to hold the bird airborne failing miserably as the bird broke through its invisible barriers.

Landing slightly ruffled and perching it self on a withered statue the bird absorbed its surroundings with precision and extreme curiosity. It was around this time that the statue came in to focus, the statue was a large robed figure carrying a sort of stick, it was made of cold stone and seemed to look like it once had a soul but which was now gone with the wind.

Peering up the bird could see a long bleak road with large monstrous walls on either side and little huts set up between them both. The walls were recently fortified and given defence towers every mile. This is due to the growing threat of attacks from the E.B.U. This town was simply one long road with a fortified wall on either side, used for barrier purposes between the two connecting states. So therefore if an attack was made the inhabitants would be the ones to loose their homes. But these inhabitants cared not for there dismal existence as they governed themselves and cared only about money. And if you cared for money and nothing more then this was a town to live in.

Boarder Town Watch is famous for being a corrupt slum with massive death rates. The land here is some of the cheapest in the world and has the only place where taxes do not exist; but you run the risk of seeing the next day.

Walking down Boarder Town Watch a shadowy figure hummed to himself taking in all his surroundings; his eyes focusing specifically on the bodies just asleep on the floor and the poorly created huts. He was holding a letter that rustled as it stroked past his robe in the wind, the letter had been sent to him one week previously and stated “something he wanted could be found at Gurnys Pubfoot on The first night of Yew.”

Turning left he came face to face with the biggest building or shack seen so far. Without noticing previously he had know realised that the road had opened into a sort of roundabout shape with a large statue in the middle. Peering back down to his crumpled letter he breathed deeply so that when the air escaped his mouth the outside air gave a shy scream in greeting.

The shack had a rusty metal sign saying “Urnys PbfUt.” It was common knowledge for places to be misspelt in the town and the man wasn’t at all surprised when reading this. The shack or building sounded like there was more people in this building then the rest of the town with the sound of gruff shouting voices and chairs screaming as they are dragged violently across the hard course floor.

As he opened the door and walked in he was sure the noise had made a local bird fly from its nest on the statue nearby…

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Syrus stood up out of his dusty chair and peered around the room soaking in the information like a sponge, eying his escape routes with immense strain, the room which was clouded in a thick smoke conveniently hid what Syrus thought were a lot of people wanted by some sort of law enforcement. He could barely make out there details but could clearly make out there body language through the silhouette. All of them minus one were crouched over there drinks either in deep conversation with a neighbour, downing their drinks or hovering the hand over the weapons. The odd man out though was also like Cyrus standing up and seemed to also b eying the doorway as if waiting for someone. He was holding what looked like a roll of parchment and Syrus was sure he briefly glimpsed over at Syrus…

Creeping back down into his now dustier seat, Syrus looked up to the large oak door; someone had just walked in…
OOC: The man and bird by the way are just ways to show and express the nature of the town and area.

[The Dude]

The echo of thunder could be heard from the local inn of boarder town but none of the guests in the dining area could hear it or the door opening. Though it was a dining area, it mainly served as a second bar when the others had become full. The inn rarely ever had guests so the patrons were usually residents consisting of thieves, thugs, mercenaries, dungeon crawlers and whatever scum resided in the town. Most of them were too busy to notice the door to the inn opening and the mysterious stranger entering.

He wore red and green robes with the hood over his eyes and carried a staff. The inn keeper who was working as waiter walked up to him. "Rooms are filled. You might have better luck finding some shelter under a tree."

The figure pulled back the hood to reveal a glowing tinge in his eyes and replied. "I'm not here for a room. I'm looking for a wizard."

"There ain't none of them damned spell-casters here." the inn keeper replied. "If it's a wizard, if it's a wizard you're looking for. You should have stayed at that cursed school of yours." the bartender chuckled at his own joke. The figure didn't pay attention and walked passed the inn keeper and entered the dining area.

The patrons of the pub chattered as he walked past them, some stopped and took a look at the new visitor but he paid them no mind as he walked towards the side of the bar that was empty save for one individual, a man dressed in blue robes, his hair once fine and cared for, now scruffy, his boots had mud on the bottom and his skin, once tanned now starting to fade. The robed figure sat down next to him and spoke. "I never thought I'd see the day when I would find you here, of all places."

The man didn't reply but simply stared dull eyed at the goblet of ale in front of him. The robed figure now shouted that startled the other patrons. "Regas!"

The man finally snapped to and looked at his visitor. "Shamiil? Shamiil! Oh man oh it's been ages. He stumbled from his chair and embraced Shamiil who became who became surprised and uttered. "You stink. how much have you had?" Regas released him and went back to his chair and pondering, held out an awkward looking talon with all fingers and sputtered "Thiss this many. plus that other one."

"I can tell." Shamiil replied. "But you stink of something else. Like the smell in professor Jenra's potion room. You've been out in the woods haven't you?"

Regas began laughing at his own thoughts. "Gotta make a livin' somehow. So what if I make potions for people." He leaned over to Shamiil and tried to whisper but ended up talking out loud regardless. "You wouldn't know of anyone who's in need of some invisibility potions at all cause I just made a batch this morning."

"Like I would trust you with potions." Shamiil responded. "The last time I took an invisibility potion from you, my skin turned purple for 3 days!"

"Oh I was just having fun." Regas scoffed and chuckled and started to sway back and forth while in a pondering pose. "If I remember correctly, you always hated Professor Jenra's potion making class."

"Shamiil rolled his eyes and continued. "Well I'm not here to purchase potions. I'm here because-" before he could finish, the inn keeper who was delivering a pitcher of ale tripped on Shamiil's staff and hit the ground with a hard thud, the platter hit the ground with a loud clang and all the patrons stopped and stared, they didn't stare at the inn-keeper but rather the pitcher of ale that was now suspended in the air and glowed with a soft light. The patrons began to stare at the source, Shamiil, with his hood over his eyes held his hand towards the pitcher and was chanting silently. The only sound that could be heard was the inn-keeper getting back up and cautiously and carefully grabbing the pitcher. Once he did, Shamiil stopped chanting and turned back to Regas who managed to control his swaying and seemed to have sobered up from the sight.

"So." Regas now able to clearly think and sat back. "You became a mystic."

"And an illusionist." Shamiil replied, dancing a coin on his finger then grabbing and opening his hand to show nothing was there. "But that's besides the point. I have a proposition for you." He took out a folded up parchment and unfolded. The parchment was covered with runes and writings. "I found this while looking through the archives. It's Halseth's final parchment.

"Yeah, I know. We all had to read it. It's how the graduates learn Halseth's final spell."

"Not just that." Shamiil replied. "look here. at the final part."

Regas peered at the final part of the writings. "And to you fellow Wizard, I leave to you my weapon and my legacy." the final part was the runes which one had to learn Halseth's final spell, the elemental blast which was a devastating multi-elemental spell that was only taught to graduate students at the university while under strict watch of the professors who taught it. Regas managed to remember one graduates account of having to sit at a small desk with this scroll in a small rune covered room for hours while the professor stood behind him.

"Well?" Shamiil started. "What do you think?"

"I think I see why you became a mystic of all things." Regas smirked and began rocking back and forth again. "That field had a knack for attracting and producing crazies."

"That's what I meant." Shamiil replied.

Regas pondered and then answered. "I still think you're crazy. Besides everyone pretty much knows that Halseth meant his spell when he talked about his weapon.

"Then what is his legacy?" Shamiil shot back.

Regas actually had to think for a moment at the question but finally came with an answer. "His writings, his history of helping found the university."

"That's what I thought too." Shamiil replied. "But then I remembered. Before the school. The only way for a wizard to pass down his spells was to take on apprentices. Remember? Wizards of Halseth's time taught and passed down their spells to their pupils."

"So?" Regas scoffed again.

"So?" Shamiil spoke up. "His spell is his legacy that he passed down. Meaning that the weapon must be something else. You remember that story we heard as first years about Halseth's staff. That he put his final spell in it. Think about it. A staff with such a power."

Regas started to seriously consider the possibility but then shook his head. "That story was made by the teachers and told to first years to inspire the first years and to drive out the idiots who would make the Mystics look bad."

"What about this?" Shamiil pointed to the large set of runes at the bottom of the parchment.

"What are you daft?" Regas replied, and started swaying back and forth. "Those are the runes for the spell. Fire, Ice and Lightning."

"How about now?" Shamiil asked. He held out his hand above the runes as if to turn a lock, three of his fingers glowed a different color. He turned his hand to the right and he spoke "fire." one of the runes began to glow and he turned his hand now to the left and spoke "Ice." and a second glow and with a final turn to the right he spoke "Lightning." and the runes began to glow bright. The letters and runes began to move on the pages until it wasn't Halseth's final writing but now resembled a map. The site had sobered up Regas who's jaw now hung from his mouth.

"Still think I'm crazy?" Shamiil asked with a smile.

Regas couldn't believe what he had seen. The sobering experience knocked the senses out of him. "What do I think?" He replied. "I think we need drinks."

Several hours had passed and now the only patrons left were Regas and Shamiil who were laughing and discussing of their past. Enough time had passed for Regas to sober up some and for Shamiil to lighten up and order a few. "So." Regas asked. "How long till you graduate?"

"One more year." Shamiil replied. "I've already procured a place at the guild hall in one of the towns."

"Ah." Regas replied. "What about Jamseh and Lelles."

"Lelles is enjoying your position as battle mage for the garrison. He barely has to do any work, gets paid more than enough to not do much work. It should have been your position you know." Shamiil pointed out.

"That was before what happened last year." Regas interrupted. "What about Jamseh?"

Shamiil paused and then answered. "Jamseh... was expelled. Shortly after you left." Regas was struck by the news. He had known Jamseh who had proven to be a powerful conjurer and summoner. Shamiil continued. "There were reports of grave robbing near the area. Someone had been digging up the graves and stealing the bodies. They did a search of the dorms and found "parts" in his room. He had been practicing Necromancery. That was those sounds we had heard late in the evening. But look, enough about the past. What matters is now. Think about it. If we find this weapon, you could be reinstated into the university, even get that battlemage position. Well?"

Regas pondered for a moment. "Well, the best way to seal the deal is with drinks. Barkeep! Two more rounds." The innkeeper brought two glasses. Regas took one and handed the other to Shamiil. They both downed the glasses. Shamiil began to talk about something but then felt groggy. He tried to recall how many he had, he knew it couldn't have been at most three drinks. He started swaying back and forth and blinked. When his eyes opened, he was alone in the bar with the inn keeper standing over him.

"I've warned him before about doing that." the innkeeper gruffed.

"What? What do you mean?" Shamiil managed to ask, trying to clear his head.

"He usually slips something into someone's drink. Usually an angry adventurer or a customer who wanted their money back cause a potion they used backfired. knocks them out for a couple of hours. I won't ask you to pay for your drinks seeing as how the last ones couldn't pay for theirs as well."

Shamiil began feeling for his gold pouch and couldn't find it, but he was shocked when he noticed that the scroll he brought with him was missing aswell. He ran to the door and peered outside. The road was dead quiet in the night.

Regas tossed his new gold pouch up and down before placing it into one of the inner pockets in his robes. He patted the folded up parchment in his chest walked toward the back part of the town. The houses started looking more like shacks and the farther he stumbled through the streets, the more dilapidated and scarce the houses became until finally he stood infront of what once was a nice looking home but now fell into disarray. He opened the door and the strong scent from inside caused the contents of his stomach to come back up. He kicked dirt around the vomit and walked inside once he got used to the strong smells that came from the clusters of potions that dotted the room. Some of the potions had descriptions on them. Others were labled simply "Healing" or "Night vision." A few simply had a skull and cross-bone on their label. He took a vial that read "For hangovers." on it, took a swig of it before falling into his bed and drifting to sleep.

[Akira Avelon]

The sands were a pain when walking through the area... A dark silhouette was barely visible in the sands that flew around the border town of Watch. The only problem.. few thought they saw the shadow of a human... while others saw that of a Wyrm... It would have made people panic to see the image of a Dragon.. but it was in the midst of a sandstorm and everyone who saw it thought it was only the sand playing tricks on them.

As the images of shadow began to disappear as the figure got closer.. a low grumbling sound could be heard.. It was of a lost traveler.. the sandstorm that had come up had taken it's toll on the weary traveler.. never in her wildest imagination would she think of getting lost in an element she knew greatly... But sand was temperamental.. even for her ilk... even if she had grounds to believe she was possibly the last of them...

Moving down the cobblestone streets.. yet not making any sound.. There was no click, or clank to her step. In fact.. it didn't sound like no footwear was present at all...

Looking around for a place to rest. The weary traveler looked at the eyes that were also watching her.. Many people eyed what they deemed a possible easy target.. The woman, however, just covered herself up even more and finally found a strangely spelled sign to a tavern of some sort..

Not really knowing what went on in there? The traveler went in and looked around.. She was greatly covered.. Looking like She had in fact just come out of the sands outside the town. Everything was covered.. Even the sand swept scarf over her mouth was covered almost entirely to the brim of the piece

Finally eying a small and vacant table, the traveler moved over towards it and sat down... Becoming slightly comfortable and eying around.. too bad three burly men came up and stood beside her. Roaring up a storm until one put his hand on her shoulder and tried to squeeze it into making her go into submission.. It stopped when a clawed hand moved up and did the same thing.. only her grip was far more powerful than his.

"Oi, what the bloody hell are ye' you scaled Lil' Bitch?!?" The man yelled as her claws began to draw blood just before the man let go of her shoulders. Afterwards she to let go. the men, however didn't back off at that point...

They drew their blades...

"Oi... take it outside.. Don't need anymore broken tables.. You three owe enough as it is!" A bar keep said as he looked at the three.. Who sheathed their blades. "Miss.. I'll have to ask ye to leave.. Don't allow freaks in me pub...." The bar keep said over the stillness of the room.. Everyone looked at the woman as she had gotten to her feet... She didn't need to cause anymore ruckus in the place.. Her claws had done enough as it is.. She could see an ambush outside after leaving.. But there'd be three corpses.. not just only one...

After eying another who was also watching. A thrown tomato hit the side of her head.. Nearly knocking her off balance.. making her cloak show a bit of her legs.. they were draconic in appearance.. very rare to see.. but even rarer, was the tail that had shot out to regain the woman's balance..

The tail wasn't seen for long though.. Right after it appeared.. The traveler ran straight out. tail gone and all.. as she stopped outside and caught her breath... "Good one, Myou... Nearly blew it in there..." Myou said to herself. But the man in the tavern that she looked over at the last second had intrigued her.. it seemed he was some sort of race other than Human.. Possibly Elven.. He had a sort of magic aura about him that a normal human didn't have.

Too bad, Myou didn't have time to dwell on the matter.. Footsteps were following her now and she knew her claws would get a workout soon.. Unless someone had the decency to intervene... But looking at the town.. Not highly likely...

[Jamie]

That was enough. Syrus stood up now for the first time in hours, he had seen all that he needed to see…

“You sir, we are forming a party to drive that freak out of town or kill her at the stake. Are you in?” muffled a porky little man with what looked like small beads for eyes.

“Why sir, I quite honestly could not care less, however I will for the sake of community spirit which I have noticed this place lacks; be intrigued to join you and your little friends.”

The reply was said very politely however the grunting man wasn’t sure whether this was a nice comment or an insult, after a minute to ponder the man gave a curt nod and moved on to pick up hid sword and walk to the front of the door.

Scyrus could see as they all stood on the inside of this door the same man flicker his eyes over to Syrus, obviously unsure what to make from him. Syrus at this merely smiled genuinely and carried on standing on the spot, curious to when they would leave.

“Now lads, this ain’t no normal freak, she ‘as got some claws and stuf’ so lets not give her special treatment ‘cus she a female “ The rest of the room roared at this and Syrus noticed the bartender cradling a very sharp kitchen blade.

The man in front who had been preaching these words of hate now turned to the door…only the door had been replaced by a brick wall mirroring that of the rest of the building. Dumbstruck he attempted to finger around the wall for a handle but found none. Before he could point this out to a forming restless mob a large man walked past and gestured he stand aside.

“It gives me great discomfort to have to inform such a well formed angry mob that there will be no…urgh, mobbing today.” Syrus spoke with confidence.

Syrus could hear them all looking from each other and back to him and stating there thoughts on his mentality. The beady eyed man however didn’t take his eyes of Syrys.

“Now ill be off but thank you for the invite and sorry to be a kill joy. Oh could one of you pick up my bill, thanks”

Before anyone could mutter a single reply to this Syrus had walked straight through the wall; the moment he made contact with it an archway appeared before quickly closing up behind him.

Syrus knew he had to find that strange specie that had entered the pub but more importantly the man with the scroll. Why had the man who originally occupied the scroll glanced over to Syrus and why did that man take it from what seemed to be his friend. Was it one of these men that had sent Syrus the letter which lead him to the dreaded town…

‘Come to the biggest bar in the Boarder watch town and you with others might learn of something to be found…’Either way Syrus needed to find these two people and quite quickly at that; the illusion spell cast on the entrance to the pub wouldn’t last much longer as it had held out rather a while now. Turning on his heal he began to pace of down the back alleys, where could they be? Considering the female was covered in sand and the previous man wasn’t he assumed that the man must live in the area as he didn’t show the signs of someone who just walked through what was obviously a sand storm.

Turning left and then right Syrus noticed what looked like a 3 legged woman walking down an alley. Was this the tailed female….

Cautiously but hastily strolling now Syrus would peer around him to make sure he was not about to be caught in a thieves trap.

She turned the corner and Syrus stopped. She would well think of him as someone out to get her in contrast to someone wanting a talk in this dreadful town; and he didn’t want to turn the corner and end up in a fight. Deciding to follow her some more he conjured a long flight of stairs to the top of the large building on his right and ran to the top. Peering over he saw her once more and a little to the right he saw in a window, a sleep was a man clutching a scroll in his hand…

Noting the position of the house in his mind he decided now was the time to make contact with the female creature at his low. He could now hear the screams and shouts of the mob and had guessed that this would only gain them more support from the locals. If the three of them were to aid each other in the location of the rewards on the scroll they would need to act now. He didn’t no why he was so sure that the man would allow their help with the scroll; however it was in the others interest to do so.

This was a test for the other two in Syrus eyes, if they met Syrus high standards he would allow them to aid him on a very dangerous quest…

It had been long ago when Syrus first came about the hearsay of what is known as the race of DARANGO. This ancient race apparently resides in the sea in what’s known to be called the Dragoon city Cocoon. They are supposedly know ledged on everything that had happened since the dawn of time in Ede and are not born but made through knowledge of the waves. Studying more on these ancient beats on his travels to the different Universities and shrines Syrus became obsessed.

However one story gripped him further;

‘The one who finds the map to our realm will be rewarded with knowledge and strength or they can choose a fate fit for gods….
….. Take upon the task we give you as men and succeed to be seen forever as gods..’

It would be a dangerous mission and Syrus new it would be impossible to gain the map without 2 strong partners to aid him.

Conjuring a slide in front of him he fell on his arse and slid to the bottom, getting up with elegance he turned to the girl and held out his hand…

“ I mean you no harm, take my hand if you seek further greatness then that already obtained; or run to my left as a mob moves from the right…”

[Akira Avelon]

After walking for a short time. Myou could hear the mob.. they were finally coming. But she wondered why it had gone silent for a time? But her thoughts were disrupted when the last man she had looked at landed right in front of her... She didn't know how or why? But now the mob was coming closer. Too close for her liking.. It seemed the entire city was now in an uproar!

Before noticing the stranger's hand. Myou had gone for her twin daggers that were strapped to the sides of her legs. She stopped and listened.. She really didn't know what to think. But one dead man was alot easier to hide than thirty...

She stood up and looked behind her. Torches could be seen and the winds were beginning to pick up again.. She wouldn't be able to fly and she assumed that this town would have a good force of archers at each tower's postern...

But looking at the now... Myou had no choice.. She preferred the non violent approach and took the man's hand... Trying greatly not to hurt it.. Her claws were extensively sharp, as she stood right in front of him. She was trying to make out a face. But like her, his face was unable to be seen due to the hood.

The roar of mob chanting was getting louder as Myou looked back. they were nearing them.. and quickly.. "Do tell. Exactly what you have in store to get us out of here alive? I can hear that they have separated into smaller groups.. I don't believe going in any direction as it stands would be wise.. but not as much as staying where we are as sitting ducks..." Myou said as a hint of fear entered her voice.. She hated towns.. especially for this reason.. She could never get a break otherwise and changing wasn't an option.

As she moved her head back to see a stray arrow coming near. She moved into The man and both were missed by the arrow. "I believe it is time to go, Yes?" She said and quickly used her tail to kick up alot of sand into the already moving wind current in the alleyway. It wasn't much... but a mere two minute distraction never hurt anybody.. unless used by an assassin. Then you have a problem.

[The Dude]

Regas stood before one of his old friends and peers in a small room. The mage now turned necromancer Jamseh. He saw his friend hooded in black robes standing in a room surrounded by stone tables, each with a white cloth on top of the tables. As he focused on the tables he discovered the white cloths were covering something. In horror he watched as Jamseh pulled back the cloths to reveal what used to be the recently deceased but now were abominations. mix matched parts stitched on to the corpses, their faces mangled and tortured to reflect horror. Jamseh still hooded snapped his fingers and the abominations arose, moaning and groaning. They moved closer to Regas and Jamseh casually strolled up to him until he was face to face with his friend. When he was barely a foot away, he pulled back his hood to reveal a rotting face. The eyes barely remained in their vast sockets. A hole on the right side of his face gaped into his mouth. Skin had been peeled off at the top to reveal his skull. Some of the bone had been cracked and the brain pulsed from within. He spoke to Regas. "Hello my friend. Won't you join us?"

Regas tried to back away but bumped into someone behind him. He turned to see his father in his battlemages armor, the front plating had claw marks on it and his father's face, once handsome was burned beyond Recognition. His father held him and said "Hello Son. Won't you join us?"

Regas woke up screaming with his hand held out. He found himself no longer with his friend and father. He was back home in his shack. He calmed his breathing and assured himself it was just a dream. However, for him it had been real enough as he looked at a now charred chair at a table next to his bed. He had nightmares before. But none made him absently cast a spell.

He took a swig of a near by potion. He was still breathing hard and though he had just cast a fireball spell, his whole body was shivering. He reassured him again. "It was just a dream you fool. It was just a dream." Trying to calm himself down, he started thinking about the past, of the university, of his friends and he remembered Jamseh, who had been a prodigy and a powerful summoner. Rumored to be able to summon and control demons. "But it wasn't enough." He said to himself. "It wasn't enough for you Jamseh, you had to cross the line."

He turned from his memories of his friend and onto Halseth and the scroll. He took it out and looked at it. It had turned back into Halseth's final writing to a fellow Wizard. He eyed the runes and thought about the possibility of an undiscovered power. "Halseth had been a powerful Arch-mage." Regas thought. "Powerful enough to forge three elements into a single spell." He pondered. "But could he possibly have taken that spell and put it into a staff? No. It takes enormous amounts of energy just to cast the spell, let alone to create it. But to put it into a staff..."

Regas' thoughts were interrupted as he heard what sounded like footsteps running past his home and the sounds of shouts of people. He opened his door to find two figures run past him. One of whom, looked like she was covered in scales. He stepped out to be in between the two people and the mob that pursued them who slowed down when they neared him.

He shouted to them. "I would like to thank the moron that decided it would be fun to run in front of my house, my headache wasn't bothering me enough." "He took a step forward, thanking the fact enough time had past that he was relatively clear headed. "So who do I thank?"

"Just go back inside you whelp." One of the mobsters spoke up. A big bearded man took a step forward. He was holding what looked like a tree trunk with a handle on it. He looked at Regas then scowled. "Wait a second. You're that no good wastrel who sold me that night vision potion. The one that made me colorblind for three days and then gave me the slip!"

"Now hold on a second there!" Regas interrupted. "Forgetting about the negative after effects, technically you could see in the dark."

"Oh I've been waiting for this!" The big man roared, he brought up the tree trunk up over his head and brought it down upon the Wizard. He sneered but then looked up in horror, instead of a wizard who only went up to his shoulders, stood what looked like a metal demon. He wore a dark silver and red armor. He wore a crown of blade over his head that formed the helm, spikes and edges covered the torso. Two spikes jutted out from the gauntlets. His face was in a constant snarl with metal teeth. Red beaming eyes glared at the man.

From within the armor Regas spoke, "Is that all you've got." He brought a fist into his hand, the metal clang caused some of the mob to back. He was glad the armor covered his whole body though so they couldn't see his face. Though the armor absorbed most of the damage, his shoulder ached every time he did the tough guy move. He spoke up again. "My turn."

Before he could do anything, the mob ran away shouting. "He's a demon! A demon!" He smirked from within the helm and shouted back at them. "And don't come back!" He smiled as the armor started to chip away into a soft golden light until he was back in his robes again. His massaged his shoulder as the pain started to lessen.

"Now for those two. Hmmm..." He spoke to himself. He went back into his shack, grabbed a travel bag and stuffed some clothes along with a spare set of blue robes. He took out a small potion making set. "Won't make anything big but it'll do." he thought to himself and placed it into a bag. He opened up a chest. Inside there was a staff and a small dagger. He picked up the staff, eyed it and then put it back in the chest and took out the small dagger. He grabbed a few potions from on top the drawer, took a swig of one before placing them in his bag then went outside, closed the door to his house and locked it.

He started to travel in the direction of where the two strangers had ran to. He thought about finding Shamiil. He liked shamiil and the guy was a capable wizard, even though a mystic. But Shamiil had a way of getting way over his head. "Well..." he thought to himself, patting the scroll that rested next to his chest. "Wherever they're going. Atleast they're going my way..." He then strolled towards the town exit, humming a drinker's tune.

[Jamie]

Picking up pace Syrus ran with such velocity that the air hit his face with a sharp piercing blow after blow, it was after a severe cut to the wrist from his forced grip on the hooded woman’s hand that he stopped. Stooping down low to indulge himself in the cut and to analysis its depth; Syrus realised that the noises of the mob were louder but going in a different direction.

Turning to the hooded figure now standing next to him Syrus decided that they should keep walking and setting the pace forwards to the outskirts she followed suit. Syrus plan was to head for the woods of Polkaria, he knew the woods were inhabited by a dangerous race of Woodelves but considered the other direction was into Kerkan territory this seemed a much safer option; at least the Woodelves gave edge to reason. Between Boarder watch and the forest was a small plain consisting of sand dunes, always surprising when it soon turned into a thick forest abundant in green. Syrus on his travels of the world had come across many foul creatures but he had also come across many decent ones. One foul creature was the Liquwanga, a cruel and powerful beast, luckily there were only 3 of these known to exist; unfortunately they all existed in the dune.

It had been on his first journey across the dunes where Syrus had encountered one of these evil creatures attacking some survival extremists camping out in the dunes. Syrus managed to hold them off and to save the extremists through his knowledge on their weakness; learnt through his readings in the many university visits. There weakness was fire…

The importance of this thought is that it was the same extremists now in view as the two hooded silhouettes walked across the dunes; allowing the sand to slice into their clothes. They would camp here until daybreak and decide a plan on how to encounter the man with the parchment.

On entry Syrus gave out a warm embrace with his arms stretched out, dropping them slowly and grasping his hood he removed it to show his face.

“Hello boys” Syrus exchanged a cheeky grin with two very odd looking Humes as he said this.

Syrus face now became visable; long dark waving hair and a handsome but rigid face complexion. They all got up to shake his hand and started offering him and his “friend” as they called the hooded character warm seats and drink. It was amazing that what once was a small little tent was now a still small but very strong and sturdy looking hut. Taking his invitation to sit down and beckoning the girl to follow suit he picked up his drink and sipped it slowly allowing the other two to indulge in conversation about there adventures since last encounter.

Glancing carelessly down at the crumpled newspaper Syrus; who had completely turned off to the outside conversation conjured himself a chair, shoved his face into the newspaper and went into a deep read.

‘Last night Colt Archer the infamous 2nd in command of the E.B.U attacked and won the state of Invaining. Invaining is said to have put up a strong fight but caved in on the arrival of Colt Archer. It is unknown why Colt Archer would want to seek control of the state in mention as it Is currently in a state of depression.

Colt Archer was recently raised in rank to Levien’s so called Honour Guard. The dreaded unit which Colt Archer now leads is Leviens iron fist of regiments. Colt Archer has for a long time been wanted dead by the Edeaniun government both on the left and right wing spectrum, with many attempted hits been issued by both governments. The most famous being Arc Major Validus Necronics; were he sent two of his brotherhood to eliminate him. Failing miserably it just shows even our enemies could not destroy him.

Colt Archer is wanted for murder, treason, theft, invasion, violation of Ede rights, insight of hatred and assault on countless Elven women.

A reward has been stated for the capture of Colt Archer by High Elton Drakoni; dead or alive. Though we have been told to issue the announcement of an award I feel it is my personal right as a human being to also mention how unsafe it is.

Colt Archer is known for being very powerful in various forms of magic being able to communicate with the winds and therefore making surprise attacks easily countered. He is also a very unmerciful soldier taking a huge passion towards killing any who oppose him and his leader Levien.

Levien is known to… ( continued on page 3 )

Syrus put down the paper and sat quietly. It had been along time since he had seen his twin brother Colt. A very long time indeed… Many thoughts were now rushing through Syrus along with a continuous rampage of multiple emotions colliding in a full scale war in his head. He hated but at the same time loved his brother, they had never fallen out but at the same time they had never been alike. Syrus however knowing of the terrible deeds that Colt had caused in these recent years was unsure no of how to feel. He knew he would one day face his brother on the battlefield but whether he would be able to muster the strength to deliver the final blow; that is in the situation Syrus was in that position, if he could really deliver it.

Syrus stood up and ignoring the others started playing with his fingers deciding it best not to think of what he would do until he finally got to that situation.

Looking back up to the men he noticed how they had so drastically changed since he last met them. On first encounters they had been both very skinny long scruffy haired humans with rags for clothes, now they both had tied hair back and strong physiques along with a sword between them. It was obvious they had made an effort to train to protect themselves.

“So who is the quiet friend of yours?” inquired the first man named Robin; the second man named Christ nodding in curiosity.

“Well I am not sure…what is your name?” questioned Syrus with a genuine tone….

[Akira Avelon]

Following the man and finally getting into the sands outside of town, Myou looked around. She did see the hut and all.. But did feel out of place. After being let to sit down and such, Myou watched the man sit and begin to converse and then read what looked to that of a newspaper. She stood the whole time, looking around and moving the scarf to get rid of half the amount of sand that was resting on it and her hood. Standing near the door as she kept looking out.

Myou felt a tad cramped... but that was natural for her. But came back to her senses when she was addressed.

Looking over to see the man look up to her, realizing that she was right for assuming he was indeed elven, and shifted position... She was now being fully watched and it bugged her.. "My... Myou... Myou Hiryuu... and yours?" She looked over at the dark haired elf once more. He really did have nice eyes..

As she moved once more.. Myou's talons clicked on the floor and when looking down to see if she had scratched the floor with them, since they were so sharp, Some of her silver locks of long hair leaked out from their confines under the hood. She quickly moved a clawed hand up to retrieve them. Showing the exact colouring of her body. She was a pale peach with brilliant emerald green and silverish scales. Some glistened in the light.. others looked like they each had intricate detail to them.

She quickly moved her hand back under the cloak and stood so that her true form couldn't be seen all that well.. Last time a human saw her scales and such... they tried to cage her.. Didn't work well... A shattered cage and a fried corpse was all that was left from that incident.. that and her back and wings were nearly crippled...

[The Dude]

"And she'll buy you a bottle of brandy." Regas continued to sing as he exited the town limits. He was in the open plains now but the dunes and the forests loomed overhead. He was aware of the dangers of the dunes but knew a well aimed fireball, either as a distraction or as a weapon would prove useful, but it was the forest he really hated. The relationship between the wood elves and Wizards had been spotty at best. The wizards regarded the wood elves as primitives for their superstitions and stubbornness in not willing to be open minded in the pursuit of knowledge. The wood elves hated The Wizards for numerous and specific reasons. They viewed the conjuerers and summoners as satanics for the beasts they bring into this plane. They viewed the illusionists as the worst of liars and tricsters. They viewed the Alchemists as manipulators, not pleased with what nature had to offer on its own but had to manipulate it to their own whims. They viewed the Battlemages as trained attack dogs taught only how to kill. They viewed the Mystics as Lunatics. But Regas smiled and remembered that everyone viewed the Mystics as lunatics so he had something in common with the Wood Elves.

However it wasn't all bad he remembered. The Wood Elves and the Wizards were able to come to some form of Truce. Wizards needed to travel from their towers and schools and the Wood Elves would allow wizards safe passage they offered to others in the Woods, so long as the wizards stayed on the roads and didn't take anything from the forests.

However he realized that the closest road that led through the forest was several miles in another direction and traveling at night was only asking for trouble. He would be better off traveling during the day time.

He spotted a hut on the outskirts, near the dunes but far enough that what lie within the dunes won't attack. He hoped they would have a place to sleep but more importantly, that they would have something to drink. He pulled the hood from his head and brushed back his scruffy hair with his hands and headed towards the hut.

He opened the door to find the sturdy hut had only a few people in it. Two people were standing over two robed figures eying one of them. He didn't pay them much attention when he eyed a beautiful woman sitting at the far end of the rumor. She was dressed in a blue dress and let her blond curls flow freely and was sipping a cup of ale. She sat with two robed figures both of whom had their heads bent down and the hoods kept their faces from being seen. His eyes followed the womans' curves and stopped briefly at the tattoo on her hand, he couldn't see all of it, but he recognized the worm going through the eye sockets of a skull.

He turned from the woman who wasn't paying attention to the small group and shouted. "Oy! What's a fella got to do to get a drink around here!?" The two men that were standing started at him for a minute until one of them left to tend to him. "I'll have a pitcher of ale." he told the man who then left to get him a pitcher. He placed his hands into the folds of his robes and sat down looking at the blond woman who had set down her drink and was staring at him cockeyed and with a crooked smile. He smiled and nodded in return and she smirked and returned to her drink.

After a few minutes the man came with a pitcher and Regas stood up and took his hands from his robes, he had the gold in his left and and kept his right hand closed. He gave the gold to the man and took the pitcher with his left hand and with his right, made a motion above the pitcher that the man took as a rude wave. He took his pay and went back to the group.

With his pitcher, Regas tried to act suave and strolled up to the blond woman who was staring at him. However it soon turned to disaster as he tripped on a chair and tossed the pitcher into the air, its contents landing all over the woman and her two companions. The woman shrieked as Regas stood up and walked up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. "Hey baby, don't worry, if you want, you can take off those wet clothes and slip into some dry ones. My dry robes for instance."

The woman's face turned to a mask of anger. "You've just made the biggest and last mistake of your life." She snapped her fingers. Nothing happened. She became flustered and snapped her fingers again. Still nothing happened. Regas poked one of the robed figures who then fell over to the side. The other one fell forward and slumped down on the table head first.

"Oh I hate it when that happens." Regas whispered in her ear. "I ordered a pitcher of ale for both of us, but instead someone went and gave me a dispelling potion capable of canceling reanimation and binding spells. I should have noticed that. Your tattoo however I noticed. Not many people go around flaunting that kind of thing, being a necromancer. You should be more careful who notices that too. It might be legal to be one in these parts, but it's not exactly smart to go about flaunting it" Regas then kissed her on the cheek.

The woman stood up and started breathing heavily. She stared wide eyed at Regas and tried to say something but couldn't. She turned and stomped her way to the door. She turned to him again and he told her "Tell Jamseh I said hi." She turned and left and slammed the door.

The room became dead silent. Regas turned to one of her companions that was slumped on the table. He sniffed the area close to him and pulled his face back, trying not to vomit. He shouted at the door "YOU COULD HAVE AT LEAST PICKED SOME FRESHER COMPANIONS!" He noticed that her drink was half full. He picked it up and finished it with a quick gulp and looked at the others who were staring at him and simply said "What?"

[Jamie]

Syrus thought it a shame that she would hide such originality; why did everyone feel they must seek a normality?

Syrus now pondered on how they may find a way to “encounter” the man with the parchment. He decided that this could be resolved later and that right now he wanted to know more about the Woodelves war with the Kerkans.

“So its been 3 Windfalls since the war started, any news on recent affairs?” Questioned Syrus to Christ with a slightly hushed tone.

It was a moment before either made signs of hearing but eventually Christ turned and answered in a much more hushed tone then Syrus had previously used.

“Well they both seem to be quiet at the moment; it seems they are both recovering from the last battle that happened here incidentally. The Kerkan’s along with some E.B.U members had a small skirmish with the Woodelves in a surprise attack at night. We weren’t sure what to do so we stayed put here in hopes we wouldn’t get involved. Luckily or maybe a better word would be thankfully at the time; Liquwanga, all three of them, came and retaliated using no prejudice in its killing, killed many on each side. Eventually both sides retreated and the Liquwanga chased the bastards all the way. I hate the Liquwanga but I think that I can thank them for that.” Taking a deep breathe allowing this to sink in, Syrus realised that wars around the world were just increasing and that something or someone needed to stop it. However he was more curious to why these Liquwanga were so active all off a sudden and…. Fighting together.

Liquwanger are maybe some of the most deadly creatures Ede had to offer, stronger then dragons, more intellectual then a Ssandri and more dangerous then man itself. They are made of a very strange substance which many mage investigators of the universities had tried to use in experiments; only one of such succeeding. The Liquwanger are also known as the dark shears of Ede; in appearance they are many forms but their true form is black oil. If cut up they split and can rejoin, if stabbed they refill, if magic is even attempted they splash into oil and reform elsewhere, they are true transformers. However the worse bit is the fact that they seek to kill with out prejudice and discrimination.

The one experiment that was rumoured to succeed was of a man named Gija. He is the dreaded “wanderer of Ede.” He is known to be a Liquwanger with the mind of a human. The rarely heard story states that mages spent days experimenting on a severely injured soldier managing to use strong alliteration magic to combine him and a Liquwanger together. It is then said he was so dangerous they instantly tried to charm him but before they could use these strong charming spells he broke out and fled to the northern forests. Though no appearances have been made since the original date of the story, a few of the named experimentalists are now presumed dead of suspected Liquwanger attacks.



These thoughts were put to an abrupt stop as a massive explosion could be heard from outside followed by much falling debris. Without thought Syrus jumped up and rushed to the action conjuring as he rushed a emerald green axe of fire. Stopping as he got to the door he turned to see his two friends cowardly pacing the tent with weapons in hand. Without turning to look at Myou he simply nodded in a ‘ Are you game’ sort of way and headed into the heat of battle. As he exited the hut he looked up to see many people from neighbouring tents and huts running for the forest or attempting to fight what seemed to be a 10ft winged demon; dripping with black oil. Stepping over a few of the dead bodies Syrus beckoned the Liquwanger his way and raised his weapon, the emerald green flames spitting into the cold night air.

Turning to his side he wondered if anyone would join him…..

[Akira Avelon]

Myou saw that the Elven man was too busy to give his name... She was a bit disturbed.. but it wasn't much.. She really didn't need know his name. She would be perfectly be fine when they would get to the woods. She had never had any problems with the woodelves. She was a natural resident after all.. Even if she did travel most of the time. She never did do anything to make them pursue her, as did they..

While Myou thought of previous events, She didn't realize what had transpired. But when the elf left in a hurry... She looked up and decided to follow.

Unluckily for her.. She would have rather have stayed inside than to see what was going on... A Liquwanger... Why did it have to one of them? She hated the beings.. Mainly because they could even beat her at her best.

Looking around and seeing alot of people panicking and trying to take up arms against the Liquwanger.. Myou knew that changing her form was definitely out of the question.. Mainly because she didn't want to make the situation any worse. Especially an appearance of a full sized Earth Dragon would definitely make things worse. Since Earth dragons were feared almost as much as the Fire dragons... She didn't need to be 'slain' when trying to help.. since more destruction could ensue if given due course.

Myou watched and drew her twin blades from the holsters on her legs and got a firm grip in the sand... she used her advantage in the sands... she could see better than a human.. but the winds give her a bit of problem. She wasn't a master of it after all.. Only The earth, Water and Light elements... Wait. Light! She wondered if a burst of light might help? but she saw that in fact the Elven man was trying to get it's attention. She went towards him quickly and hit her two daggers together, sending a bright flash into the darkness, and waited for a reaction.

[The Dude]

Regas didn't hear the demon's roar or the screams of the other campers. He didn't even hear the destruction around him. The only sound he heard was the cub falling from his hands and crashing onto the floor and the memories of his days training to be a battle mage.

"Now students." Azumon the field proctor. He was an old wizard with a long white beard but was well respected and was able to command his students and peers with his gruff voice. "As battlemages, you will face many dangers while on active duty. What I am about to show you is perhaps the most fearsome thing in this plane, should you be so unfortunate to confront it."

He pulled out a small glass ball from his robes and held it in his bony fingers for the five students to see. The contents appeared to be nothing more than oil.

"Oil?" Lelles asked? "I think a rat would prove more fearsome." The other four students including Regas began to chuckle but quickly quieted when Azumon gave his traditional stern look.

"Well then." the Proctor answered. "Let's see if a rat can do this." He tossed the ball into the ground and the oily substance began to shape into a demonic looking creature.

"A Liquwanger!" The students shouted taking a step back instinctively.

"And you lot think you've got what it takes to be Battlemages!?" the proctor smirked. "Fools. This is just a portion of a real Liquwanger. Dangerous yes but with it you shall learn how to deal with the real thing. Now you all should know that Liquwangers are weak to fire. But fire isn't enough." As the liquwanger neared, the proctor began chanting and in an instant a burning ball of flame appeared in the palm of his hand. He held out the ball with his slender fingers and tossed it at the creature. The class watched in horror as the ball of flame entered into the the creature and nothing happened. Right before the creature could strike, an explosion of flame appeared from it's back followed by a chain reaction of explosions from within the creatures body until it was blown to bits.

The entire class stared as the proctor held out a second glass ball and with a spell absorbed the remains of the Liquwanger. "Like nearly all of your enemies, especially the physically impervious ones. The trick to beating them is from within." The proctor smiled and the class managed to regain their stature. "That will be all for field lecture. Five hours in the practice halls and five hours studying your scrolls. Go now!" the proctor ordered and the class immediately departed for their studies and practices.


"I always liked Azumon." Regas thought to himself. He cursed himself for not learning the spell the Wizard used to defeat part of the Liquwanger but one thing that had helped him as a student was his ability to improvise. "Hope this works, I won't be able to do it twice." he thought to himself. He held out his hand and a golden light covered his body and he was in his summoned armor once again. He ran towards the Liquwanger demon, brushing past the running crowds of campers. "Hope this works." he wished himself and once he was close enough, lept towards the creature and planted his right fist into the creatures' oily left thigh. The beast looks surprised and from under the helmet Regas smirked the same as his old proctor and cast a fireball spell inside the demon.

The explosion was almost deafening and had sent Regas flying back towards the hut landing on splintered wood. The right gauntlet had been severly damaged and was breaking apart into a golden light, revealing minor burn marks on his hand, though the rest of the armor held together. Though the armor had absorbed most of the damage, the force of the explosion and the landing had done a number on his chest. He was almost sure a rib had cracked.

He saw the creature hadn't fared any better luckily. Though it was far from finished, it's left leg and a chunk of the lower half of its body had been blown apart. It would reform eventually but the creature had been slowed down and hampered enough for someone to finish. "Good luck..." Regas managed to whisper to the figures he saw, one holding an axe and another in green hood before blacking out.

[Jamie]

The Liquwanger exploded with some velocity but in a matter of seconds had reformed however fortunately it was now not a full fledged Liquwanger and was obviously extremely weakened by the noble act. There was no time to look and focus on who had made this possible as the Liquwanger had now transformed both its arms into long black basilisks and was crushing all in its way. As two more campers fell to there death Syrus dived out the way avoiding a crumbling hut; looking up he could see the blurs of the frantic inhabitants running for their lives in all directions.

Syrus spat out a thick blood and stood up, turning to see the girl fighting the beast alone. Running forwards, Syrus cast a shield charm around her giving a limited fire protection; in retaliation he saw the black basilisk arm turn into a large hammer and come crushing down at him. Diving forwards and swiping upwards with all his strength, Syrus managed to cut of the arm with his enchanted axe of fire. As the hammer now arm landed, separated from its source it slowly burnt away leaving a wet residue. The Liquwanger was now retreating turning itself into a black liquid and sinking into the ground.

Syrus new it would not be the last they saw of the Liquwanger in question and next time it wouldn’t be so easy. Trying to get his breathe back he could feel the cold air piercing his chest as he breathed in; a warm ecstasy feel when he breathed out.

Walking over to the noble mage who had done in truth the hardest bit; Syrus glanced down at him unconscious now in the wreck. To his surprise Syrus was looking down at the man who had taken the parchment. This was an interesting surprise, of course due to fate which Syrus had absolute faith in. Looking at the damage around him, Syrus decided to act and walking over to Christ and Rob he asked them to take the fallen mage inside and to wait for to awake; from the smell of the mage he liked his drinks strong and therefore advised them that a nice gesture might be a drink waiting.

There was now a bunch of ruined tents and huts, bodies strewn over the floor and two men and a woman all standing staring at Syrus. Turning to them Syrus asked them also to follow Rob, Christ and the fallen mage into what was a half destroyed hut. Staring at the girl as she passed and winking. He now used a conjuring spell to reform the hut and finished with an illusion charm making it rather invisible but not completely.

Taking a rather big breathe out all that had happened in such a small space of time Syrus turned and beckoned the Dragon Half to follow him inside; he wasn’t sure if he would but hoped that by now trust was between them, he noticed that the fire shield had now lifted…

[Akira Avelon]

Myou looked as she saw it leave.. she sighed and saw that the man had come close to her once more.. She was greatfull.. but trust was still an issue.. she could never really trust anyone.. she'd been hurt too many times in her long life when she trusted another.. One man being the one that had wiped her race nearly all out.. Well all out but her to her knowledge...

She turned back, looking for any trace of their enemy, before following suit with the elf. She still wished to know who he was.. but now she also wanted to know whom the mage was as well. She moved to the insides of what was left of the hut and looked for a place to sit.. she was a tad tired and did need to rest.. but laying down was awkward in this situation.. especially when she wished to keep her appearance hidden.. A small 'thank you' escaped her mouth as she passed the elven man...

[The Dude]

Regas woke with a start, first he was surprised that he wasn't dead and second to find that he had infact cracked a rib. The final surprise was that he blacked out in the wreckage of a hut but was now awake in a bed.

He saw a cub filled with a strong drink and took a gulp. The liquor burned its way through his throat. With the drink half way finished, he reached for the two health potion bottles he had in his robes and took them out. To his dismay, one had a large crack running through it and the potion was now mostly gone. He took a sip of the other other, enough for the rib to slightly heal. With some of his energy recovered, he massaged his right hand until the burns disappeared.

"Great. Of all the places I have to start rationing..." He thought to himself placing the only bottle, now half full into his pocket. His eyes widened when he realized that Halseth's scroll was no longer with him, he began to frantically search for it around him, hoping it hadn't been lost in the explosion. Perhaps one of the others he had seen combating the Liquwanger had survived and recovered it. He got up and started for the door, stopped and picked up the cup of ale and went out.

Though the area had been badly damaged, he noticed that the hut had survived rather well from the interior. He noticed the faint glow around the interior and realized what had happened though. "hmph. I've seen better street magicians perform illusions." he thought to himself as he neared the table with the elven man and the robed woman.

"So you must be the two that saved me." he spoke. Taking a seat with them at the table, he continued. "Well allow me to thank ya. But before I can do that..." he took one final gulp of the ale and brought the cup down onto the table and with a crooked smile continued. "I'll be having back that scroll you took from me..."

[Jamie]

Before Syrus had chance to look up and reply the “effect” started happening. Dropping out of his seat with a large thud, Syrus entered the other realm…

The agony that was now creeping into his body was unnatural; his whole body now quivering as it felt like every inch of his body was being nailed to the ground. Laughing hysterically he could feel the tormenter of the other realm begin to talk, using as always his body to do so…

“How have you been Syrus

Better if you hadnt shown up

Now now, not a nice way to talk to an old friend

You don’t scare me

Don’t i?

No

Then why are you crying, why are you shaking, WHY ARE YOU IN PAIN SYRUS!!!

Because you’re a **** with too much spare time. Your a coward.

A ****? What a perthetic attempt to patronise yourself. And ua being a coward surely isnt why your in pain is it...

Your not me
I am, I am you and you know it to be true.”

Syrus was now violently out of control; echoing laughter from his mouth which was not his own. The pain started numbing and coming back into himself, he looked around at those watching; but it wasn’t finally over, it’s polite to say goodbye. Once again Syrus was pushed back into his own head looking out of someone else’s eyes though they were his own.

Nice friends, they think you’re a freak, withering in pain, you’re a disgrace, death will come to you, when it does your going to get to meet me in person, sweet dreams…

Breathing heavily and pulling himself up; Syrus decided to sit himself down and take a sip of the bright red drink, previously untouched. Syrus knew that they would want an explanation for this strange event, to them it would probably just look like he was talking to himself; they wouldn’t know how incredibly painful it was to be possessed by death himself. The attacks were becoming more recent know and Syrus wasn’t sure how much more he could stand of it, finishing his drink he turned to the mage; he wouldn’t explain what had happened until asked.

“Why hello, did you enjoy your drink? We were just glancing over this rather lovely piece of parchment you have here. Don’t suppose you would like to enlighten us on what all these symbols mean.”

Though Syrus said this in his polite and not out of the ordinary tone, he knew there was a awkward silence in the air. He also knew well of the symbols relating to runes but wasn’t 100% sure what it was all about, he knew it was important and knew he needed the mage on board so that they could journey on what ever it was the parchment stated.

Looking up smiling and ignoring the tension, Syrus waited for one of the two to respond.

[The Dude]

Regas managed to push aside the obvious but did make one statement about it. "Looks like you've made an enemy out of a mystic. I'd watch out if I were you. They may be lunies but they're quite adept in their field." Regas thought about Shamiil and thanked the heavens that they didn't teach those types of spells at the university but that wouldn't stop him from finding a spell book eventually with a possession spell in it.

Remembering about the scroll, Regas continued. "But first, allow me to introduce myself." He stood up and in a corny attempt to seem noble continued, "My name is Regas Loseth. Son of the famed battlemage Jagon Loseth and former student and battlemage in training at the famous and prestigious University for the study and practical use of the arcane arts." He sat back down and finished while taking a sip of his drink. "Or... Simply the Arcane University." He finished his drink and continued on. "As for that scroll..." He tried his best to seem convincing "Is Halseth's final spell. Don't bother trying to read the runes. You'll need atleast three reference books on the theorems of destructive forces to decipher it. I should know."

Feeling the discomfort around the table. Regas leaned in towards the elf and the cloaked woman. "Alright, what I'm about to tell you is only a guess at the most and sheer lunacy at the least. The scroll is a map, the runes are its key. I have seen the map but I do not know where it goes. But in the writing. Halseth mentions a weapon and coming from Halseth..."

Regas became slightly annoyed at the blank stares he got when he mentioned Halseth and cursed the fact that the only things outsiders knew in regards to the university was that the university was a walled up section of the country side that people rarely visited with a large tower at its center that spirals upwards and large buildings along its sides and the only thing outsiders knew in regards to the council of mages was who the current Arch-mage was and some didn't even know what an Arch-mage was and that recently a ban on necromancy had been placed though it remained a legal practice in the area.

Remembering to take it slow with the two, Regas continued. "Halseth was one of the most powerful wizards ever. You do know what a wizard is right? Well as far as Wizards go, Halseth was one of the most powerful. He helped found the Arcane University and had created one of the most destructive spells known to battlemages. It goes by several names, the Destro Omega, the thunderflame, or simply the elemental blast spell. That scroll that you have is how Battlemages learn the spell..."

Taking another sip and seeing that this would take a while to complain, he mustered up his breath and continued. "But it also serves another purpose. If you can decipher the runes, you can unlock its second function as a map. As to where I don't know. But it's a possibility that it leads to Halseth's final resting place. Which... could be his hidden tower that he secluded himself in and... It might lead to a weapon that he created. I can only guess at what he created or what it does but knowing its creator, it would be powerful and any wizard, collector or a warrior with the knowledge would kill for it."

Regas took a final sip of his drink then looked at the elf whose hand was on the scroll. "So there you have it. Now can I have the scroll back. It won't do you any good unless you can read and decipher the runes." he looked around at those who remained at the hut. "And by the looks of it, I'm probably the only one here who can. So either you can try to unlock it on your own, possibly destroy the scroll, give it to me and I'll be on my way, or..." He looked at the axe on the elf. "take me with you. It would seem that we'll both be traveling through the forest at some point and woodelves aren't too fond of wizards and by the looks of your ears, you'd be able to persuade them to let me pass through." He smirked and held out his hand, expecting either the scroll or a hand shake for the deal. "Well? What do you say? Either the scroll, or a deal?"

[Akira Avelon]

Myou got up and walked away.. she had heard enough... She hated Quests for weapons.. they only led to destruction... She shook her head as she looked outside.. Weapons of mass destructions were always a bad idea.. She really didn't want apart of this.. but She could easily just fly away.. She was tired though.. Travels through the sands for three days straight and not eating during that time was a bit tiring for her.. but she never could sleep in the sands.. Too windy and sand got into everything.. even places you wished it not to..

Myou turned and saw that most had fallen asleep from either exhaustion or too much drink and finally removed her hood.. "I do not do well on Quests.. I'm a liability... Most people would have me skinned if they saw me.. You, My Elven man.. are the first to actually help me.. That I thank you.. But give me one good reason to go along with this? I have never trusted Mages.." she said warily.. as she eyed The man named Regas.. "But.. I've never trusted Humes that much at all.." Myou said as she held herself securely.. She didn't know what would happen.. but she was quite vulnerable at this point.. and her body was talking for her.. as her tail moved back and forth slowly yet enough to show hesitation. Her back was starting to bother her.. She hadn't stretched for a long while and it was starting to get to her.. Since she never really wore clothing..

Myou looked back up towards them before seeing someone stir and her hood went right back up.. her hair flowing now slightly out of the hood as her gaze kept shifting back between the two still sitting..

[Jamie]

She was rather good looking Syrus thought and looks were always a good thing on a quest. The man Regas didn’t seem to realise Syrus wasn’t impressed by pointless formalities but Syrus was much to impolite to show this. Syrus was a master of reading people as was he a master of hiding his true intents. Syrus had already managed to convince Regas that Syrus needed him and right now it was a battle of knowledge. Poor Myou was a middle man. Syrus however knew that this Regas wasn’t a bad bloke, though maybe a bit ego controlled and full of himself he would soon learn that Syrus was his equal wether he liked it or not; and Syrus fully trusted Regas to protect him or Myou if the occasion was to occur.

Syrus had already succeeded in his mission however, he had gained the mage named Regas on the team and new that he was full of knowledge.

Syrus remembered the day he found out about the Darango, how he realised his wish of power could be gained. The Darango, an ancient race unknown by many, if Regas and Myou could prove themselves he would have a winning team; they had so much potential. Myou, the last of her kind, a ancient race in herself. Regas would be very useful with his magical knowledge; Syrus knew that finding the Darango would require serious knowledge. Also this spell that Regas talked about, this elemental blast, this would surely prove useful in the quest he had plans on involving them on. Though a dangerous quest was now about to be embarked; the one Syrus had planned for them if they survived would offer a reward few could ever dream.

He needed to embark on this first quest and analysis there powers though, luckily he had an excuse to make the path for them much harder, testing there real prowess. As the female was hated by so many of Ede’s people; Syrus would be able to lead them through paths they probably knew didn’t exist, far away from civilisation and closer to danger.

“As Myou is unable to be around public places we will have to set our course rather steadily. We will first need to infiltrate the forests of Polkaria. I warn you they may warm slightly to me but they are not civilised and are at war. We may be caught up in the battle and they may not want us there full stop. It is a large forest and it is dangerous. Once we make it through the forest we will need to cross the plains of Polka and head for Deaths Drop as to avoid the towns. Deaths Drop has an old man living there who owes me a favour, he will have a boat and we can cross the deadly waters of the mist. From there I do not know where we are heading so we will discuss the strategy from then on. I am very well known to the world and know of where to go and secret trails, please allow me to direct us from here on to the destination you decode Regas.”

Syrus said this and turned to look at Regus, his arm outstretched. Syrus would not tell them of his plans yet but wait until they had shown themselves worthy after the sea mists of Ganrata. Breathing deeply Syrus turned his firey eyes to Regas.

“Well? I shall take lead, you shall inform me of where you want to go, and the three of us will figure out if this treasured Blast spell is all you have made it out to be.”

Syrus kept his hand floating infront of Regas, the scroll now hovering by Regas’s head.

[The Dude]

Regas took the scroll and shook the hand of the elf. He had a feeling the elf knew more than he let on but that would have to be dealt with later. He felt better having the scroll back in his possession. "Alright, fine." He answered the proposition. "Consider my knowledge yours, so long as your axe is mine... And don't worry, Halseth's spell more than exists, as a battle mage." "In training." Regas thought to himself "I already know the spell." He took a sip of his drink and talked at the same time so they wouldn't be able to hear. "I just have never cast it yet." "But as for the weapon. Like I said, I could only imagine the possibilities."

As he continued, a crooked smile appeared on his face. "But a problem presents itself. Especially if we're meant to be bypassing towns and cities on our expedition. The problem being that I had packed rather lightly." Regas emphasized the had packed part; recalling that his traveling sack now rested in a pile of debris somewhere, if it had survived at all. "And I am in need of supplies. Especially for an outing such as this. potions, better weaponry for myself." He recalled that he only had his dagger left "reference materials and extra clothing. I don't plan on staying in these robes throughout the whole journey."

Regas saw the irked look of his newfound comrades and smiled. "Don't worry, I know where I can get all that stuff and more, especially garments for the lady." he winked at the elf man "And best of all, it's less than a days journey from here and we won't have to travel through any towns aside from the one back there. The University. Don't worry, you wouldn't even have to go in. You can hang out by the front gate and I'll be in an out in a jiffy! So? Do we have a deal?"

Regas was telling the truth that he was in dire need of supplies, he would need a new potion making kit and not going into towns or cities meant not going to local mage halls which meant he wouldn't get the necessary supplies. He didn't bother however to tell them that he needed to talk to Shamiil one more time to remember how to unlock the seal on the scroll again. After all, the less they knew he thought, the better.