Giant's Foot: The door swung open to the bustling tavern, and a dark figure stepped in. He was wearing dark, tattered robes, a flowing black sash around his waist. The top half of his face was covered by a drooping hood. The windows of the bar were stained to a point where they didn't let in much light, and so it was even harder to notice the man. The Giant's Foot was usually known as being one of the dodgier pubs, being on the edge of the commoner and trade quarters, but no one would be able to tell on a day like today. The man made his way through the many tables to one near the bar, where a young woman sat, fiddling with coins she had just obtained. He was there when she danced, and although he didn't see it, wearing a blindfold and all, he was moved by it. "You dance beautifully," he told her with a slight raspy-ness to his voice, "can I buy you a drink?" Trade Quarter: A dark figure stepped out of the crowd, making his way over to Clairc's stand. He was wearing black tattered robes, complete with a flowing sash around his waist and a hood drawn over his head, covering the top half of his face. Keeping his head down, the man began inspecting the clockwork gadgets Clairc had on display. He picked up one of the toy airships, touching it intricately. "This do anything in particular?" Airship Cargo Hold: Suddenly, the giants heard a lot of movement from outside their crates. It was probably a sign that they were soon to be transported, the vessel was almost at its destination, and a good thing too. They had been picked up from the dwarfish capital, Irstrom, then moved for about a week to the west, to a village on the border of elvish territory, where some sort of supply was picked up. All the while they were given little food, less than in the mines of Irstrom, and it was very uncomfortable in the crates - they weren't made to hold giants. A loud rapping sounded against Golful'gar's crate, followed by a hollow voice. "Hey, giant, how would you like to be free?" the man said, almost tauntingly. "What are you doing!?" Another voice asked hastily from further away.
The sun gleamed over the airship as its massive stern propeller turned gently. Puffy white clouds dotted the landscape below floating like giant jellyfish over the landscape. They were approaching Termir, and the joyous celebration in the city was already evident. Here and there bottle rockets streamed into the sky, and the cheers of the merrymakers could be heard below. Broggen was still resisting the urge to boot Whiskers overboard without a safety rune. Meanwhile Jaz had lit a cigarette that smelled of smelled of cheap and noxious weed to Broggen's nose. The human didn't seem impressed with Broggen's sense of humor. They were nearing the city limits now. The gentle currents of the day would carry them over the outskirts and across the trade quarter to their rendezvous point. Barely taller than the helm wheel, Broggen slipped a loop of rope over one of the handles to keep the ship steady and turned to Jaz. He carelessly stepped on Whiskers tail as he did. The cat meowed in protest, forcing Broggen to look down, 'Why do these stupid animals aways crave the ones that hate them?' “Get yer other Shorties ready,” He said referring to the other mercenary humans on board, “We'll be on the ground in a wink.” Broggen stooped to pick up a thin braided cord that lay nearby, the other end of which trailed away along the deck of the ship and out of sight. He walked up to Jaz with dwarvish quickness and touched the tip of the long fuse to the end of Jaz's cigarette. The cord ignited in a flash and the burning spark raced down the length of cord and out of sight. “And ye may want to cover yer ears,” Broggen's hazel eyes twinkled as the ships cannons began to fire successively, bursting flame and showers of confetti over the crowds below. Cheers could be heard from the trade quarter as the cannons continued until one cannon made a distinctly louder bang. “Oops, must have fe'rgot to load a dummy charge in that one,” Broggen quipped as he moved past Jaz to prepare the airship for landing. All the while he smiled at his own inventiveness, sometimes the best place to hide was right in the open.
Golful'gar heard movement from outside his crate. Could they be at their destination? He wondered how the humans would differ from the dwarves. He jumped when there was a loud tapping on his crate, followed by a man's voice. "Hey, giant, how would you like to be free?" Golful'gar failed to register the scorn in the man's voice, treating it like a genuine question. "Free?" He asked in a deep hoarse voice. He winced as his throat cracked. There was no response from the other side. Golful'gar heard new footsteps approaching. "What are you doing!?" Said a new voice harshly.
"You dance beautifully, can I buy you a drink?" Within a second Ilayda had shoved her coins into the small purse she carried and put it out of sight of the stranger. Looking up at him through the dim light that filtered through the dirty windows, Ilayda tried to make out his face. However the hood he wore was large and hid his features in shadows. Slowly she examined the rest of him: a tattered cloak, a black sash, a raspy voice. A chill ran up her spine. She didn't know who this man was, or even what; all she knew was that something about him scared her a little bit. Sitting up a little straigter, Ilayda pushed her fear down and looked at the man with a steely glint in her eyes. Even if something about him was unsettling, she wasn't going to let him see that. "If you want." She glanced up at him with indifference, keeping her tone hard and closed. If her 18 years had taught her one thing, it was to never trust and never allow your feelings to show.
“Bella Artire,” Bella said as she smiled and lowered her parasol and attached it to her dress with a small cloth loop that, from a distance, looked like nothing more than yet another fold in the dress, but really acted as a frog for the parasol. Bella knew it was odd to hang a parasol from a frog, but it was a sword, and just sitting one’s sword on the ground when you need both hands simply isn’t practical. Once her parasol had been set aside, Bella shook Noveen’s hand with a smile, too excited about the weapons to notice any grim or to even wonder what the girl was smoking. “I’m not one for smoking anyway, but thank you.” Noveen allowed Bella to take a good look at each of the dirks and pistols, and Bella beamed and admired each, commenting on the workmanship and quality. She really did enjoy a fine weapon. There was something about the way light shines off a sharpened blade and the click of a new chamber being loaded that captivated Bella. And the way something so beautiful could simultaneously be so dangerous. And it was so rare Bella was able to chat with anyone about weapons! Other women were always scared away guns and swords, and most men were either pond scum, so conceited they couldn’t see Bella for anything more than a pretty face, or didn’t know the difference between a ballista and a zweihander. It was refreshing to be able to talk to someone who knew about weapons, wasn’t a business partner, was her own age, and a girl no less! “What are you doing here in this alley anyway? It’s such a beautiful day! And the summer festival no less! I was just about to visit the clockwork shop across the way. Oh, won’t you come with me? I’ve heard the shop has the most interesting little gadgets and bits of clockwork. And there’s a crepe stand right near by! You’ll come won’t you?” Bella was hardly waiting for Noveen’s reply as she took her parasol back out, doing a little spin in her excitement. This really was turning out to be a wonderful day.
“What are you doing here in this alley anyway? It’s such a beautiful day! And the summer festival no less! I was just about to visit the clockwork shop across the way. Oh, won’t you come with me? I’ve heard the shop has the most interesting little gadgets and bits of clockwork. And there’s a crepe stand right near by! You’ll come won’t you?” Noveen thought about the question briefly- but her face did not contort, even slightly, as to covey her thoughts, but again she felt her cheeks flood with warmth as the capillaries allowed fresh blood to travel to her face. There was something different about this girl she already knew as she glanced at her ectomorphic frame once more. She was surprised she had not met her before, seeing as they were both humans of the same age. Her presence was one that could not be ignored and her questions- asked with little force and with a dash of charm made her think, and then think again, before making an excuse to allow her to wallow alone. If she sat on this crate all day she would be miserable. It wasn’t anything new, but it was something that she was trying to avoid. She had heard of this clockwork shop, and had made a note to pay it a visit before the festivities ended, for she had a great interest in machinery and how it functioned. The request did sound attractive. She took her first step as if to convey that she did indeed wish to accompany Bella in her excursion across the way and winced, but cleared her throat and realigned her face. No need to make anyone ask questions. She dropped the remaining inch of her cigarette on the ground and stomped it out without even thinking about it, and took another step. Her leg was not as tight as she thought it to be and her head was not pounding; instead, it was swimming with lethargic disorientation- the way she liked it. “You know, it is a beautiful day and I don’t know what I am doing on this box. I will accompany to you to that shop and I will have a good time!” Noveen exclaimed theatrically and then giggled. She just hoped that stand Bella mentioned had a pitcher of ice cold water and fruit to top her crepes with. “May you lead the way, mam?”
Shara had watched as a girl had danced with the guitar player, seeing a man approach and hit on her, only to back down once seeing her ears. She knew that feeling all to well, as she began picking up the coins, she’d turned back to Kirk. “Do you plan on staying long this time?” “No, I’ll probably be leaving as soon as I find a good job” “Dam, 2 years and this is all I’ll get to see you for?” “You know me, I like to move around allot” Kirk looked over her shoulder as something moved in her sack around her back. “What’s that?” A smirk crossed Shara’s face. She reached around loosening the straps. A small head popped out. “Yell, I’ll be dammed! A kitten?” Kirk began laughing merrily. “He’s called mr Fluffs” Kirk began laughing hard, clutching his stomach as mr fluffs climbed out of her bag and rested on her shoulder. “He was given to me from a litter over in the farm lands to the east” “And you named him Mr Fluffs?” Shara blushed a little. “Well, I thought it suited him, he’s cute, so he needs a cute name...” Kirk was laughing again. “Well... I’ve heard it all now, I never thought that you’d give into something cute like that, after all these years of knowing you, I’ve never heard yu do something like that” “Well, I thought it’d be a nice change, it saves me wandering alone” “Meow!” Mr Fluffs licked Shara’s cheek. Kirk moved thurther along the bar, still laughing towards the dancing girl and another figure. "Can I get you anything?" He asked between chuckles.
Clairc felt uncomfortable as the man approached. He was wearing heavy robes, black and tattered from what appeared to be constant use, with a flowing sash around his waist, and a drawn hood casting a eery shadow over his eyes. Clairc made up a new cardinal rule to live by just for this guy; if a person wares black in the summer and tries to hide their face - they can't be trusted. The man picked up one of his airships, touching it intricately. "This do anything in particular?" Without a word and eyeballing the man cautiously, Clairc took the aircraft from the dark figure and tapped the button on it's underside. The toy airship sprang to life, its many turning gears and flashing lights aiming to please as it took flight from Clairc's outstretched hand and started a circuit around his head, swirling, soaring, plummeting. Once Clairc was satisfied with the airships performance, he caught the toy ship out of the air and turned it off by tapping the button again. “Its makes a nice gift for the little ones,” Clairc said flatly as he handed the clockwork ship back to the hooded figure. Clairc didn't think the man was serious about buying anything. Why was he here?
If the girl had any doubts or reasons not to come along, Bella took no notice of it. She was far too happy and joyful to notice such a thing, too caught up in her own happiness. “Oh, that’s just splendid! And look! There’s a little toy flying around! Just splendid! Come, come! This way!” Bella hardly took the time to turn and make sure Noveen was still there before prancing off to the clockwork shop. What an interesting little shop! Bella thought as she saw the airships and clocks and toys and trinkets of all sorts. Maybe there’d be a toy for Masamune! A little mechanical mouse! And surely the shop owner would know how to improve her blade even further! Maybe he’d have an idea on how fit a dart launcher into the hilt beside the revolver… The possibilities are endless! “Oh shop keeper! Would you be so kind as to spare a moment for us?” Bella didn’t actually know that the girl was following her, but she didn’t actually think about it. She was simply too excited.
“Oh shop keeper! Would you be so kind as to spare a moment for us?” Clairc adverted his gaze from the dark hooded man and faced the cheery voice who interrupted their conversation. A smiling human female stood beside the man, her long brown hair resting on her shoulder, her brown eyes happily greeting him. This was a very unusual day. First he is approached by this hooded freak that didn't understand how to dress appropriately for the season, and now a human was speaking to him as if she was truly excited to meet him? Perhaps she hadn't noticed his ears yet. No matter. She would figure it out soon enough. “In one moment dear,” Clairc said in his best sales voice. “Once I am finished with this 'customer' I will help you.”
Airship Deck: "Hello?" The man didn't move, leaving only his robes to flow in the wind. Dalia took a step closer, uncertain as to whether it was a good idea or not. She reached out with her hand, ready to grab his shoulder, turn him around, and possibly smack him in the face before he had a chance to do anything. But before she could do all that, he rounded to face her. The hood he was wearing blew awkwardly over one side of his face, exposing his snow-white hair and an oddity that only affirmed Dalia's earlier beliefs - the man's eyes were black, with an orange glow at the center. She clenched her fists at her waist. "Where is it?" he asked in a hollow voice. "I don't know what you're talking about," Dalia responded in all seriousness. The man looked down, closing his eyes, and made a sigh of annoyance. "RAH!" He screamed the next second, catching Dalia off-guard, and thrust his arm forward, whereupon it transformed into a sleek black shadow, enveloping itself around her neck and lifting her several feet above the airship's deck. "Don't play games with me! I know who you are - where is the shard?!" the man screamed at her. Dalia was gritting her teeth, thrashing her legs, choking. She grabbed hold of the bind constricting her and found that it was too tight - there was no way she could pull it off. Shard? What shard? She didn't know anything about a shard. "There's nothing onboard - we've already checked," the man proceeded to speak, and further tightened his hold. Then it hit her. From the lack of oxygen and trying to save herself, she had completely forgotten that two weeks earlier they had transported a very expensive artefact - rich people not wanting to pay tax. It was a shard of Atarandor. Once upon a time, the elvish homeland was full of these magical stones, but now only a few remain. The man suddenly released her, and Dalia fell, landing on her side. She then began to have a coughing fit, trying to regain her breath. There were sounds coming from below them now, cheers, shouts, music - they must've been flying over Termir already. "Ashcroft," Dalia wheezed, "Baron Ashcroft." She couldn't bring herself to say anymore, but it looked like it was enough for the man. He smirked slyly as his hand re-transfigured. Then, the ship's cannons started to fire. It was a mess of noise in Dalia's head. She could barely tell what was going on. The man seemed unimpressed. He stepped closer to the coughing smuggler, kneeling down as if to check if she was all right. "I hope you enjoy watching your city crumble, Klara," he whispered, void of emotion, and then stood back up. Without making sure to check if anyone else was around, the dark hooded man threw his arms out to their widest reach, turning his head to look above and opening his mouth wide. A black circle appeared beneath him, almost as if he were standing above a pit, and shadows began swirling up his legs, then his torso, dividing at his shoulders until the streams manifested in his mouth and both palms, shaped as circles. A few moments later these shot to the sky, cutting holes through the balloon of the ship, and strangely, through the sky as well. The sky turned dark over Termir, ending the cheery summer feel for the festivalgoers, and the ship's balloon began to deflate - It was going to crash right into the dock! Cargo Hold: "What are you doing!?" "I'm just playing - maybe it'd be useful to have half giant around, don't you think?" The first voice mused. The other sighed, "What is it with new initiates?" Then the ship's cannons fired, rattling the crates and filling the entire space with thunderous noise. "What was that?" came the first voice. "I don't know, but I think it's our cue," the second responded. Then everything became uneasy, as if the ship was suddenly having issues staying afloat. "No - that's our cue!" The first voice mocked, and the sounds of their footsteps running filled the enclosure, gradually fading. Giant's Foot: "Can I get you anything?" Before the hooded man could answer the barkeep, the door of the tavern suddenly burst open. Two more dressed in the same fashion marched inside. "It's time," one of them uttered. "Time for what?" shouted a fat man holding a tankard of ale, already drunk. The dim light that came through the windows faded even more, "I'll show ye' what it's time for!" He stepped closer to the man who spoke, and swung his chalice sloppily. But before he could reach, the hooded man threw his arms to the sides, causing a spread of shadow energy to explode and ripple away from him, knocking over the nearest celebrators, tables and chairs. The other then proceeded to do the same. Next, they opened their mouths wide, black circles forming at their feet, shadows enveloping their bodies, manifesting in their mouths and palms. They fired the energy, cutting holes in the air of the bar. Everyone stood and watched, most in disbelief. "It's a shame we couldn't have that drink," the hooded dark elf told Ilayda. The rifts then grew, revealing dark insides, and next came what appeared to be black paws, equipped with ten-inch claws. These pulled at the edges of the rifts, widening them until the two creatures they belonged to leapt out. They stood at about four feet tall, looked like dogs, only they had no eyes, and antennas instead. Their tales had spikes, which looked more like nails, and they began to thrash around, snarling, drooling, knocking over furniture and crushing beams. People began to panic, and started to run for the doors, only to find them blocked off by the demonic summoners. The demon hounds leapt at their prey. Trade Quarter: “Oh shop keeper! Would you be so kind as to spare a moment for us?” “In one moment dear, once I am finished with this 'customer' I will help you.” The hooded man took the toy airship back from Clairc’s hand just as a real one flew overhead. The ship in the sky fired its cannons, blasting the area with confetti and fireworks. Everybody was on their feet, jumping and cheering; everybody but the man in the black robe. He tightened his grip on the toy until it broke, then turned his hand over and dropped it on the floor. Before anyone could interject, he conjured black smoke from his palms, which filled up the surrounding area quite quickly. The crowds began panicking, especially as the sky now turned grey. The man moved to find better ground for summoning, and when he did, he performed the ritual and opened a rift. A few moments later, three black, round and furry creatures emerged. They were small, about three feet tall, had beady black eyes, and more than half of their body was a mouth, which when opened revealed rows upon rows of jagged teeth. They stood on two feet, but had no arms. One of the fur-balls caught sight of Noveen, and a grin spread deviously across its face as it jumped spectacularly towards its target, still lightly immersed in the black smog.
One of the fur-balls caught sight of Noveen, and a grin spread deviously across its face as it jumped spectacularly towards its target, still lightly immersed in the black smog. Noveen was still trying to take in the scene that was before her; yet, none of it seemed to make any sense. She had attended Summer Festivals before and never had the sky turned such a sallow, murky color making it look as if it were on its deathbed. The deafening sounds from above were almost to the point where she wanted to cover her ears and cry murder, but she was out of it. She had smoked too much and now she was going to blow things way out of proportion if she did not just stand complacently, and smile as she was told to do when she was feeling emotions too strong. The dark fog that embraced the whole square seemed to be almost to the point where it was theatrical. The actors were short, furry, and black creatures with narrow eyes and massive mouths that were wide open, revealing layers of razor sharp teeth. She did not fear anything on this day- especially a few children enjoying their festivities in the now shrouded sun. She looked to Clairc and then to Bella, and then back to Clairc again as the creature leaped into the air, darting towards her. Something was wrong she realized. Her life did not flash before her eyes, but she recall her fondest memories of her childhood: A small mare that was the color of a chestnut and was soft to the touch, a handful of rough and rowdy brothers that treated her like she was one of the boys, and then of her mother's puffy, swollen face. That was when she screamed.
So it did exist. Demonic magic was real! Clairc had read about rifts and demons, but he never thought it was possible. It was such a perfect, artful rift... That was when she screamed. Snapping out of his momentary shock, he flipped his makeshift shop stand, pulling a rune from his side bag. “Behind me!” Claric bellowed. Throwing the rune to the ground he whispered. “vindico... barrier of light.” The rune activated. A bubble of protective golden light engulfed Clairc and everyone standing nearby. The demon hit the wall of light and was thrown backwards to the ground. “This bubble won't hold for more then a minuet. Prepare yourselves. If you need something from my shop this would be the time to take it.”
"What are you doing!?" Snapped an angry voice. "I'm just playing - maybe it'd be useful to have half giant around, don't you think?" The first voice said sounding amused. The other sighed, "What is it with new initiates?" Golful'gar jumped as cannon shots rang out, causing the ship to quake. "What was that?" Asked the first voice. "I don't know, but I think it's our cue," the second responded. Then Golful'gar felt a horrible sinking feeling in his gut. He could feel the ship beginning to shudder, and descend rapidly. "No - that's our cue!" The first voice mocked, and Golful'gar heard the two retreating from the cargo hold. "'Ello?" He asked, his voice still raspy, and his throat aching all the more. There was no reply. He began to feel panicked, as he felt the ship fall even faster. He had never liked heights. "'Ello?" He asked, even louder. Still no reply. He pushed against the walls of his enclosure, but the thick wooden planks sat unrelenting. "Oi!" He called, scrabbling at the crate, until his fingers slid into the gap that the light was emerging from. All at once his surroundings were cast into darkness. Ignoring this, he began prying at the gap in the planks, cords bulging from his arms, until he heard a snap, and one of the planks fell the the floor with a resounding crash. Taking advantage of the extra room, Golful'gar threw his weight upon the second plank. It fell without much effort, no longer being supported by the first. Light flooded the crate, and Golful'gar threw up his hands to shield his eyes. Without waiting for them to adjust, he hobbled from the crate, straightening up, his back popping heavily. He swung his head and shoulders to the sides, until they were loosened. He could see his helmet and pickaxe in the corner. Moving quickly to retrieve them, he remembered that he was not the only one of his kind on board. "'Ello!!" He boomed.
Broggen had barely reached the first anchor when the ship lurched. Looking above he saw the oblong ballon begin to sag in its tethers. His eyes quickly were drawn the the ominous black tear through both his baloon and the sky. “By the Cavern!” he exclaimed, “ALL HANDS ON DECK! IT'S GOING TO BE A ROUGH LANDING!” The crowds below were gasping at the sight of the failing airship as it began its uncontrolled descent toward the docks. But Broggen had no concern for what was below, his soul focus was on keeping his ship in the air. In a flash he was back at the helm. He gripped the wheel with one hand and pulled a lever with the other. Turning to the brass horn connected to the furnace room he bellowed, “GIVE 'ER ALL THE FLAME WE'VE GOT, AND BACK THE MAIN SAILS. WE'VE GOT TO SLOW THIS FLYING ROCK DOWN!” A screeching and a fluttering distracted Broggen from his fervor. Looking for the source he saw a cloud of dark fluttering creatures pouring from the rift in the sky. “Beard of my Fathers,” he gasped. Broggen had seen a great many things in his travels across Terrafel, but nothing so dark or evil as the nightmare that filled the suddenly dark sky. He pulled a pistol from its holster and held it at the ready. The ship lurched again. They were already on top of the airdock! The long piers that jutted out into the open air meters above the ground could be seen arrayed in festive décor. But those left on them were no longer celebrating, people were scurrying everywhere like dazed mice. Broggen spun the wheel with all the strength of his mighty arm. The ship groaned as it was forced to comply and turn sharply. But it was too late. The airship's belly collided with the balloon of another docked ship, igniting the explosive gases within. The flames quickly spread to the hull ofBroggen's ship, as it crashed full on into a second docked zepplin. The violent collision threw Broggen off of his feet and into the air. But instead of falling the dwarf found himself flying. Some winged darkness gripped him by his wide belt. It slashed and swung at him with a jagged cycle as if flew. “Go back to Hell, wretch!” Broggen hollered letting off a deafening shot from his handgun. But the massive bullet either missed the creature entirely, or had no effect. “I'll fix you, ye bloody demon.” Broggen pulled his hatched from its holster in his boot and hacked at the limb that held him. The Specter gave an evil screech and threw the dwarf back onto the burning airship. He landed with a thud, but thanks to his dwarvish build was mostly unharmed. His quarters were nearby. Dodging flames he quickly retrieved his battle axe and traveling effects. Then the dwarf sought to make his escape. The evil specters were swooping at him forcing him to fire into the air to drive them back, but he had only four shots per pistol and was running low fast. Dodging a burning timber as it fell he rounded a corner and nearly fell through a gaping hole in the deck. Below he could see the crates the slaves had been transported in. One of the giant oafs was calling to his mates, pickaxe in hand. “Best make yer escape now Long-shanks!” he called down into the hole, “It's every beast for himself!”
An explosion threw Golful'gar off his feet. Crates and boxes flew across the room, as the walls were ripped apart, revealing the other sections of the ship. Flames sprung up all about, and Golful'gar rose to his feet, the wails of many Half-Giants suddenly filling the air. "Gome on!" He shouted, as the fire began to spread to the creates, "Geh ou' a ther!" “Best make yer escape now Long-shanks!” He heard a voice call from above, “It's every beast for himself!” He looked up to see a braided Dwarf fighting off a horde large winged monstrousities. What were they? Golful'gar could feel tears falling from his small eyes. He couldn't swing his pick, for fear of hitting one of the Giants within. "Geh ou', ya lumps!" He pleaded, but the pitiful screams of his brethren merely rose to a frenzy of anguish. "Damn ya!" Golful'gar roared, raising his voice so that all could hear, "Ya goh no right!" He charged to where the Dwarf stood, pick held high.
Just as the shopkeeper replied, apparently he was still with a customer, an airship fired its cannons over head, spraying confetti across the city. It’s beautiful! Bella thought as thousands of pieces of colored paper began to fall from the sky. Her enjoyment was cut short by a cloud of smoke that began spreading from the hands of a darkly dressed man (Dreadfully dressed really. Messy tattered clothes, and all black? No good for the summer, and definitely too dreary for the festival. But that wasn’t really relevant at the moment. Smoke was coming out of him.) The smoke was spreading quickly, dangerously so. This wasn’t normal, and Bella felt it. “Hide Masa!” Bella yelled to the kitten as she tossed him behind her. Everything began going wrong. The sky turned dark, the crowds were panicking, strange man were billowing smoke. The Summer Festival was being ruined. Bella’s wonderful day was being ruined! And now some kind of stupid looking demon dust bunnies were hopping around coming out of some kind of dark portal. And they were attacking Noveen! How dare they! Attack her friends? Scare her kitten? Mess up the festival? Ruin Bella’s whole day?? Bella hardly took notice of the wall of light that sprouted up before her. She was already dashing towards the creature. Bella flicked a switch on the base of her parasol, and pulled the entire shaft of the parasol off, sticking it into the frog at her side and revealing a long, thin saber. In one clean motion Bella detached the bottom half of the sword’s handle, holding it in her left hand. A long and thin chain whip with a thin blade at the end came with the bottom half. Bella rushed forward, slammed her foot between the legs of the monster and yelled. “You deranged dust bunny of a monster!” Bella slammed her sword through the back of the creature’s mouth before it had a chance to react. “You ruined the festival!” Bella twirled the whip in her left hand, pointed the butt of the weapon at the creature, and fingered a switch near the end. A small caliber bullet shot from the whips end and struck the creature in what would be the temple if it actually had a head. “I’m going to hack you all to pieces! Slit your throats! Blow your brains out! Bash your skulls in! Tear out your hearts! And whip your arses all the way back to the underside of whatever hellish bed you come from!” With each phrase, Bella shot the creature again, and again before finally spinning her whip and striking the creature in the head, the blade of the whip cutting all the way down the top of it’s head. “I’m not even going to be able to get a raspberry and honey Crepe because of you!”
*My last post I messed up by seeing Forgotten and the hooded man, when I had my blindfold on, so I'll just say I was starting to put it on when I heard the commotion. Sorry* He couldn't completely make out what they were saying, but he heard bits of the conversation. "...where is the shard?!" the man screamed at her. "..watching your city crumble, Klara," he whispered. He stepped out from behind the corner, only to see the figure disappear completely in shadow from his view. His jaw dropped, he remained crouching down unable to move or even breathe. He eventually managed to look over at the girl, Klara from what he heard. He picked himself up and ran over to the girl, "Are you okay?" He wanted nothing more than to ask what and who was that, but he knew that from what he just saw she must have gotten the worst part of it. So he would take it one question at a time. He crouched over the girl, waiting for an answer, while he waited, probably not even twenty seconds passed, but he started thinking of what the strange man had said. About the the threats and his extravagant exit, "Am I raving mad or did that..just..happ.." Before he even finished his sentence a loud noise and the ship began to turn savagely. He heard a loud explosion and immediately covered himself over the girl lying down, to shield her from anything that could fly at them.
The half giants below began to cry out as the flames crept in upon them. Broggen watched as the free one called to them, but it was too late. The towering creature let out a roar, "Ya goh no right!" The lumbering sod then charged up toward Broggen. Part of the dwarf's heart wanted to feel sorry for the half giant, sorry for his suffering brethren. But Broggen pushed all that aside, there was too much misery in the world to feel bad for one dumb ogre. "Get down from here ya big oaf, yer so damn tall them things can't miss ye if they tried" The dwarf motioned toward the side of the ship. There were no easy exits left, nothing left but to jump for it. Broggen stowed his pistol with his last three shots in it as he fell and pulled his battle axe from his back. Again he landed hard on the street below, and again he was thankful for his rigid dwarf bones. Looking up he saw the swarms of black specters blocking the sun. He wondered if the oaf would make the jump. Ahead of him crowds seemed to be scattering in all directions, Most seemed to be headed away from the trade quarter, but there were screams of terror coming from all over the city.
"Get down from here ya big oaf, yer so damn tall them things can't miss ye if they tried" Golful'gar arrived at the side of the ship, just as the Dwarf jumped. All at once, the horrible birds began descending, and diving at him. Grunting in annoyance, Golful'gar leaped over the side, slamming his pick into the skull of one of the birds as he passed. He pushed the bird under his feet as he fell, and kicked it into the ground with enough force to crack the pavement underneath. He landed heavily upon the creature, which softened his fall considerably. He scanned the room as he pulled the pickaxe from the bird's head, and saw the Dwarf running, before he was out of sight. Lifting himself to his feet, Golful'gar straightened his suspenders, placed his helmet upon his head, and let out a yell; before giving chase. Never before had he been so upset.
The words, the thoughts, and the actions were all too real and all too unbearable. It was as if she had transcended beyond her own form and was one with the clouds and with the bright white flecks beyond the sagging, dark sky. Noveen’s immediate reaction was not that of surprise as she mumbled and bumbled- but that of relief. The silence, the looming ominous feeling right before she was enveloped in a dark mist and the victim of a freak charge, was intangible and unable to be held in a set of hands and therefore was undefeatable; but this, this was real. Her head was no longer swimming, and it was no longer confused as to its own state. Her legs returned to her. Her hands did as she wished. Her muscles became tense and taut. She knew who she was, and she knew what the furry, fanged creatures were. As the shield desperately protected her and the tall, thin, and pure Bella showed a side of herself that no one would have ever expected, it was at that moment that she turned off her casual, everyday demeanor and tomboyish charm. The switch in her head shifted to danger. She shook her head and her eyes widened. She felt the handles of her dirks, tucked away near the small of her back and basked in their rough, scaled texture. The transition from the grip to the blade was soft and grimy, crusted with the blood of fools and fiends. Though most of her palm was creased with calluses, she knew what the oily, coarse feeling meant. Death. She braced herself and charged into the fray, joining alongside Bella and her psychotic rant.
"It's a shame we couldn't have that drink," In the few seconds it took for the hooded man to utter those words, Ilayda's world fell apart. The cheers and joyous yells that had been filling the air outside slowly began to turn to screams and shouts of horror. Inside the inn everything was disitegrating into pure chaos and fear. The three hooded men (for two more, identical to the one who had asked to buy her a drink, had entered the bar a few moments ago) were pouring smoke from their hands. At here feet it appeared the ground was actually ripping open, forming black, gaping wounds from which sharp and deadly claws were appearing. The claws ripped and tore at the edges of the holes, widening them until the two beasts could leap out. The inhabitants of the inn leap up and ran to the doors in a panic, but there was no way out as the three men in their tattered robes blocked them. The hounds leapt at the people filling the air with more screams. Ilayda stood completely shell-shocked by the turn of events. Then something hit her from behind, maybe a piece of a chair thrown in the chaos. The sharp pain of the wood snapped her back into reality. I have to do something. Plunging her hand into her satchel she unsheated the long, razor sharp, silver blade that she kept there. Hearing the noise, one of the hounds turned its horrible face towards her. Pulling out the short dagger from her sash, Ilayda took a fighting stance, the blood rushing in her ears. Her fighting ability was decent-it was definately enough to keep her safe in the dodgy alleys of Termir; hopefully it would be enough to buy her a safe exit here as well. She rushed the beast as it started towards her. With a shout she suddenly spun to the side and slashed the hounds leg with her dagger. Enraged it let out a roar and turned back towards her, its claws extended.
The ship in the sky fired its cannons, blasting the area with confetti and fireworks. Eenzthk's ears rang and at a loss of constitution let out a mournful chitter of disgust. He spat at the ground pushing the drunkard ahead of him, realizing that in his panic he'd just blown any possible cover he had given himself he pulled the cloak tighter around his body. Then, whispering into his nose like a familiar voice he noticed the the repugnant odor of smoke and magic in the air.
She didn't even see the man disappear, but definitely felt the ship drop. Her stomach lurched - she wanted to throw up. Then another man was upon her. She looked up, almost fully catching her breath as he knelt down beside her. "Are you okay?" He was wearing a blindfold - the dark elf they picked up from the last stop. She wanted to talk, but could only let out a cough. Then an explosion occurred from below the ship, and the dark elf immediately dove on top of her, shielding her from any oncoming debris or danger. The ship came to a halt with another explosion from the helm. They had crashed into the air dock, and possibly into another ship. Dalia could hear screams from below, more tiny explosions, and an odd screeching from above. She knocked the elf off of her, and jumped to her feet to meet a full-blown head-rush. She looked around the deck to see Jaz running straight at them, Whiskers in his arms. "Get the hell off the ship!" he shouted. Instinctively, Dalia turned and headed for the railing, from which she jumped and landed on the boarding platform of the dock. Jaz and the elf followed suit, and just in time, as what was surely the cargo hold suddenly combusted, taking with it most of the deck. She reached into a pouch that was tied to her waist, extracting her blunt-edged knuckledusters, sliding her fingers into them dextrously - there was going to be trouble. They ran further down the dock, towards the stairwell and the exit. There were no guards in sight, which was kind of worrying, but she figured it meant that they had already been able to vacate the area. Upon reaching the exit to the air dock, Dalia looked to the left. The dwarfish pilot stood there with a battle axe in hand, alongside one of the half giants from the cargo hold. It appeared that the giant had landed on something to soften his fall - a winged creature with vicious blades as arms. What the hell is that? Dalia thought to herself. But before she could ask anything, the group was surrounded by five Termirian guards, all with their rifles pointing straight at them. "Hold it right there, you heathens!" They especially concentrated on the half giant and dark elf.
As panic ensued, Eenzthk's ears began to twitch. His nose began to sputter pinpointing trouble. Guards locking flint in place, smoke of magical nature, and more disturbing a demonic presence. I think we should go now, friend. With a quick trace of his nail and a muttered word in Skittari, the X caved in and the safehouse door opened. The familiar scent of opium, incense, aging paper, and stale ale replaced the chaos of outside. Eenzthk's tail curled around a candle and with a short flick of a flint stick was held forward to provide light. The drunkard now bathing in a stew of his own sweat, hunched forward as ceiling became lower and lower. Watch your step. Another Cheshire smile spread across the rat's face. The corridor of the safehouse grew smaller and smaller, filth and stone cluttered much of the path. Eenzthk scurried along into a single room. Stone floor, simple table, small wood stove, and two chairs. Very minimalist. Setting a candle on the table, he gestured to the drunkard to take a seat. Friend, I never did get your name. "Bar-Barlowe," the man belched nervously taking a seat. Well, Mr. Barlow, it is a pleasure. I am...I am the book binder. Shall we share a cup of tea?
