LCC - R1: Golden Dawn VS Child's Play

[Hysteria]

The twin shadowy figures made their around the base of the lighthouse. Each moved as if sneaking, but carefully presented to be seen by anyone watching. Talen followed, each foot fall carefully placed to be as close to silent as he could make it. The youth reached the far side of the mammoth building and there was naught but the roar of the sea to greet him. The youth stopped, confusion spreading across his face at the lack of anything, or anyone. The light high above swung around out into the fog and a tiny white blur caught Talen’s eye. Closer still, a shape was down the rocky incline towards the shore.

That’s where Play Back went.

Talen was about to call out when his partner disappeared. Talen paused, mouth slightly agape as his need for words vanished. The youth swore and looked back out to the stretch of sea. If his partner had gone across the shore he was sure he would need to as well. The boy pushed his pistol back into its holster and with it the two illusions he had conjured disappeared. The youth didn’t have quite the same skill with teleporting than his partner. It took Talen much longer to move great distances. The youth was forced to stand and wait as the second ticked by.

It had been a minute and a feeling gripped Talen, a call of sorts much like the warning before. The youth figured that it was his partner that was emanating the call from across the water. Talen adjusted his planned trajectory as the final few seconds of his preparation ended. The youth simply vanished.

Talen appeared slightly above the water two metres from Play Back. The youth looked slightly surprised as he fell into the churning water with a huge splash. It was cold, a thousand icy needles stretching across Talen’s skin. With a roar of surprise and anger he burst back through the water and looked around wildly. Water streamed down across his face, overpowered slightly by the look of anger.

“Fuck!” Talen pulled himself up onto a rock and shot Play Back a dirty look, “Did Sei ask you to trick me into having a bath..?”

The accusation hung in the air as Talen’s eyes fell upon the unconscious man on the rock.

“Is that one of the men back at the lighthouse?”

Talen could tell that it was from his partner’s demeanour. The nod that came after was superfluous. Talen pulled himself up to his feet lifted his hand towards the prone man. Trails of darkness leapt from Talen’s palm and wound their way around the man. The shadows snapped into physical being and formed black chains wrapped around the man’s legs and chest. Talen’s eyes were cold as they moved down over the man and hovered over the blood oozing from his leg.

“His own sword it looks like.” Talen pointed towards a few traces of blood still on the blade, “Probably won’t die, but might not be much use if he bleeds out and faints.”

The youth lifted his gauntlet and twisted it into a fist. Flames licked over the dark metal, flickering light across the youth’s pale skin. The youth placed his free hand on the man’s leg to brace it. With a slight smile Talen thrust the flaming metal against the man’s wound.

[Zook Murnig]

"Oh no?" repeated the magician, moments before being pitched from his seat in the small vessel. Small blessing it was that, as he sailed over the rocks, tail over teakettle, he splashed down in a small tide pool with no jagged stone protruding through his spine.

No less stunning, however, was the sudden sensation of ice water filling his sinuses. Nor less disquieting was the warmth that flooded from his nose where it struck the base of the pool. As Cohen gasped for air and stumbled to his feet in the shallow water, he overheard shouting from behind him, insistent, though muffled by the heavy mist over the bay.

For the drowned scholar, it was a geological age before his staff was back in hand, and his feet beneath him. Face bloodied, eyes stinging and watering, he stumbled toward the mystery voice, grasping for his wand in the pocket of his trousers. When the flames of the lighthouse once more shone in their direction, he managed to catch in the blinding light, reflected and scattered by the fog, a pair of darkly dressed silhouettes standing over what he could only assume was his unconscious companion. As he limped forward, sloshing through the knee-deep seawater that drained all life from his feet, leaning heavily on the staff for support, he saw one shape kneel over his friend, flickering red and orange light growing over its outstretched arm.

"You'll not have the sword!" he shouted over the waves, shivering in his soaked, clinging clothes as he limped faster over the treacherous footing of the stone reef. He gathered in himself his rage and will as he half-ran, pouring it ounce by ounce into the rod he held trained on the shadowy forms as he grew closer and closer to them. "I'll never allow it! Yahweh Tzabaoth!" He unleashed all that power as he called out, and a torrent of flame washed out from the tip of his wand, burning the mist and pouring out at his friend's assailants.

[Ceidon]

Ceidon awoke to a distant shout. Assuming it was Cohen coming to his assistance, the adventurer groaned and flipped over onto his back. Through blurred eyes, he watched as his mentor approached and stared down at him. “I…I…” Ceidon stammered. “I think we’re here.” However, Cohen did not respond. Instead, he forced Ceidon’s injured leg against the rock and brought his flaming hand to bear. “Wait. What. What are you doing?” Again, Cohen did not respond. Then Ceidon could only watch helplessly as his mentor’s first erupted into a bright flame and came crashing down upon his captured leg.

As agonizing pain tore through his body and his pants caught on fire, Ceidon flailed his body. During the commotion, he instinctively kicked his free foot directly into Cohen’s crotch. As a result, Cohen backed up and Ceidon rolled off the rock into the ocean below. The cool water instantly put out the active flame on his clothing, but stung fiercely as the salt touched his open wounds. “Argh,” he cried, waving his arms desperately in the water. Eventually Ceidon was able to find his footing and stand. All of his weight was noticeably on his left foot.

“Why the hell did you do that?” he called out, staring angrily at Cohen. But, when the adrenaline of being injured finally kicked in, Ceidon realized, much to his dismay, that he was not facing his mentor, but rather some unknown assailant. “Wait, who are you?” Now seeing clearly, his mind instantly went to work. These people must be bandits and like vultures to a carcass they were ready to claim their prize. Cohen had warned him several times about the dangers of Lornius and as his legged throbbed over and over Ceidon was starting to wish that he had listened. Oh God The thought of his mentor set him off. What have they done with Cohen? His question was answered almost immediately when he heard Cohen shout and he was instantly slammed back into the water by the force of a wind spell laced with flames.

No, no, no! Not like this Ceidon silently cried out from under the water. Cohen rarely used his elemental abilities and when he did it meant that he was facing the direst of situations. Ceidon waited for the flames to settle on the face of the water before coming up for air. When he did, he limped to his feet and yelled “WAIT!” at the top of his lungs. “Please don’t hurt us.” He called out, still not knowing the fate of the bandits. “He’s my dad, you see. We came to the forest to hunt for food, but we crashed into the rocks.” The young adventurer, who ordinarily told the truth, was shocked at how easily the lie slipped off his tongue. When no one responded, Ceidon grew more impatient. He reached down into his pocket and pulled the piece of the Falchion of Darkness from his flesh. Due to the addition of salt water, the wound had already begun to scab over and was reopened when he pulled the shard from his pocket.

In agony Ceidon fell to his good knee. “Please,” he pleaded, lifting the shard into the air. Because of Cohen’s fireball there was no fog left to obstruct the moon. The sword piece instantly began to glow. “Please. If you let us go, I’ll give this to you.” He hoped this piece would be worth their lives to the bandit. Even more so; however, he hoped that Cohen wouldn’t kill him for keeping a piece of the Falchion of Darkness.

[Play Back]

I heard the shouts and immediately turned to focus on the source. The man I assumed who had been lost to the sea threw a fireball towards us, shouting something about his words. I couldn’t understand very well, what with the nearby waves crashing against the rock formations around us. Before I had time to think about how a fireball could take away so much fog (the mist should have settled back down once the heat left, after all), I dived at Talen with all of my might.

By this point, Talen had released his target (or he had escaped, either way worked out for me). I grabbed my scarf, throwing it over my face as I tackled my partner to the ground. The cloth did its job; it kept the flames off of us long enough for our flesh not to be seared, but now we were both on the ground, at the mercy of our foes. I looked up from the ground to see the first man, the injured one, showing us some sort of stone. It shone with a dark light before settling back down once more, the fog enveloping it once more rather quickly.

“It’s a trick”, I tried to convey my suspicions onto Talen, hoping the shadow warrior would get my message, “that gem is going to explode, or drain our power. Or I don’t know…something sinister!” I pushed myself off of the ground, looking back behind us towards the magician. I could barely make out his silhouette now, shadowed once more by the mists of the dark ocean. I grabbed my kunai, closing my eyes for just a second before throwing them at the man’s form.

A silhouette was all that I would need.

“Talen. We have the advantage of being able to talk over the waves. Take care of the stone guy. The spell caster is mine.”

[Hysteria]

Everything happened quickly. Talen was above the prone man one second, a shout, a shove and then he was on his back with Play Back next to him. The youth suppressed a feeling of insult as the air was knocked out of his lungs by the larger boy. Flames licked through the misty air above him, but even the chance of a fiery end seemed preferable than the position he found himself in. Talen pushed himself up to his feet and shot Play Back a dirty look. The pair of children were next to each other between the two men. The youth cursed his luck. His cloths were wet, the icy child of the mist filled night settling down upon him like the hand of death. He was not one for regrets, but even he felt the night should have begun with a bed and ended in sunrise.

Orders fluttered through the roaring seas and the youth surrendered to Play Back’s plan, if only because it meant he would be free of another overly friendly hug. The boy finally snapped at Play Back’s comments.

“You don’t fucking say? I am not in the habit of taking candy from strangers either!”

Talen flicked his narrowed eyes at the man. The youth’s anger was not sated by the outburst.

“Man, do I look like I believe your bullshit? And you really think I’m trying to rob you? How many fucking times you been hold up by a kid?” Talen lifted his bare hand up. “Don’t answer.”

The youth punched his palm forwards. Darkness spiralled inwards for the barest fraction of a second before exploding outwards towards the wounded man. The liquid cracked and ignited in mid-air, turning from an oily black slick into a jet of flame.

[Zook Murnig]

Bunnies between members of Golden Dawn are approved.

In the moment of clear moonlight, Cohen caught sight of the obsidian shard in his partner's palm. It matched the descriptions Ceidon had given him of the Sword of Darkness, the very weapon that he had claimed destroyed. And Ceidon had a shard of it. And he lied about it. Anger bubbled to the surface, a fury from deep within, leashed to the magician's will, threatening to break loose in fire and ice and howling wind.

This was not the Ceidon that Cohen knew. The young adventurer would never have clung so to such a dangerous artifact. Even less, would he lie about it. There was something awry here, and the magician had need to know it. But that was for later.

"You're not bandits?" demanded his companion, brandishing the offending relic in indignation. "Why else would you attack an unconscious man, crashed on the rocks?"

Cohen took a deep breath, and felt the sweat rising in his quaking rage, mist melting away from his presence with the flame that guttered and sparked from his rod. "Shut up, Ceidon," he said coldly. "Put that thing away."

In his acrimony, he had neglected their attackers too long. A knife hurtled through the quagmire, striking him in the chest. Sitamayini silk protected his flesh from its bite, but the force of the blow rocked him back a step and honed the edge of his rage. His brow furled as he refocused on his masked aggressor, the heat gathering in him burning in his gaze. "We will speak of your treachery later, Ceidon," he continued, his voice tense as he struggled not to shout. "Take my staff and run. We run short on moonlight this night, and there is work to be done."

He threw the walking stick to the betraying compatriot, gripping the wand ever tighter in his main hand, its blue-hued yew creaking under the pressure. He would not need the staff's support with what he was about to do. His off-hand drew the prevalida blade from his belt, holding it easily and at the ready as he touched the fire burning in his chest, calling out to its master.

Djinn!

Aye, Chayyim. At your call, we are one, came the rumbling, crackling reply.

[Ceidon]

Even Ceidon was shocked by his tone. Was this rage the same as what Kyo felt when she held first the Falchion of Darkness? The young adventurer looked down at his right hand. It was shaking so violently that he was barely able to keep ahold of the shard. When Ceidon looked up again, he was being attacked. However, rather than jumping into the water to avoid the narrow stream of fire, Ceidon merely turned to his side allowing the flame to pass directly in front of his face. Instantly the adventurer’s face began to boil, leaving line of third degree burns from cheek to cheek. Ceidon was lucky he could still see.

His initial inclination was to lash out at his assailant. He was, after all, a child that could easily be eliminated. Ceidon did not get an opportunity to attack. Cohen’s voice boomed over the crashing waves. He was scolding him for keeping the shard. At first, his mentor’s words enraged him, but when he looked down to his hands, he became frightened. This was because a small black ball of mist was gathering around his clenched left fist. Though Ceidon was familiar with magic, never before had he conjured such a mass. “I…” he muttered. “I’m sorry.” His apology snapped him from his stupor. He immediately placed the shard back into his pocket and caught Cohen’s staff.

Taking his mentor’s advice, Ceidon began to run. However, he quickly found that he was full of adrenaline and didn’t need to rely on the staff to move. This was particularly curious given his leg had practically just been soldered shut. When he arrived at the rocks, Ceidon began to climb. At times it was hard to maintain his grip against the wet rocks and the salty mist from the ocean irritated his face, but the young adventurer didn’t stop until he reached the top of a large outcrop. That’s when a bright light erupted from below and the fog—which had just begun to settle from Cohen’s original attack—was blown free once again.

Ceidon turned around. Cohen had just summoned the power of the Djinn. Ceidon was familiar with his mentor’s abilities but had never seen it done. In his right hand, Cohen’s wand erupted into a flaming rapier, constantly changing size and shape as the wind whipped around him. Similarly, the prevalida dagger in his right hand erupted into flames. Ceidon could feel the heat emanating from his mentor from the rock face. The heat had a residual effect on Cohen as well. His pale features became instantly tanned, and sweat covered his body at every pore. Ceidon did not want to see what would happen next.

When he turned back around, Ceidon saw his mahogany bow and his quiver of arrows on a nearby rock face. As he jumped over to grab them, a strange feeling crept into his stomach. Yes, they were running out of moonlight and may not be able to recover the sword before the tournament began, but they had also been attacked by two non-bandit psychopaths. The more Ceidon thought about it, the more he hated the bizarre duo. Is that the shard talking again?, Ceidon wondered. No it couldn’t be. It was nestled safely in his pocket and he wasn’t touching it.

Suddenly determined, Ceidon lifted his weapons and turned back to the fray. Cohen was already on the assault. The adventurer watched with a crooked smile as his mentor dug his rapier into the rocky ocean. The water steamed around the sword, but Ceidon doubted a smoke screen was Cohen’s intention. He was right. After a short moment, Cohen flung crystalized sand from the ocean (glass) towards Ceidon’s original assailant (Talen) before starting a three cross slash assault on the other (Play Back). For good measure, Ceidon began to empty his quiver at the attackers as well. By this point the fog and smoke from Cohen was rising, partially obstructing his view. However, he could still see Cohen’s huge flaming silhouette so he aimed his shots at it, assuming Cohen would stay on the assault. At this point, he was so angry that he didn’t care whether he hit Cohen or not along with them.

[Play Back]

I didn’t have time to register everything that had happened. There was dark lights, fog mysteriously disappearing in the middle of the ocean at night, more fire being conjured, steam, and all in all, a huge cluster fuck of activities going on. My mind could barely keep up with how much conversation and actions were taking place all at once, and my carelessness almost got me killed.

The flaming guy came at me, his blade at the ready. I wanted to yell at this man, telling him how stupid he was for first attempting to fry us with fire (which my team mate also tried on them, but that just made him an idiot as well), and then for coming at me after he had produced a very ill-thought out steam curtain. His sword came towards me and I leaped back, the tip of the blade merely an inch from tearing away at my mask. The second slash came forth and I ducked the horizontal blow, closing my eyes and regretting the decision I had already made by this point. When the third strike came, I was gone, inside the veil of steam that my foe had created.

Of course, I was also now on all fours, hacking and wheezing as sweat covered nearly every inch of my body. It seemed my opponents were not the only ones who used ill thought out stratagems. The exhaustion my body felt from teleporting three times in such quick succession, as well as the added heat from the steam, was all my stomach could take. I made a noise that no man should ever have to make, and I could feel wet, chunky liquid caressing my entire face. I grabbed at my mask, lifting it up enough so that most of the vomit poured out onto the stone floor, slinking away into the water.

Someone must have been looking out for me this night, because as I laid there, my tummy in knots and my features reeking of a curdled and spoiled milk, something whizzed by overhead. I fell to the ground, my arms and legs giving out from under my own weight, and flipped over, watching as another object flew by in the smoky air. Arrows my mind finally wrapped itself around the concept as a third line zipped past. Talen did not use bows, so that could only mean that the projectiles belonged to my foes. The fool will sacrifice his buddy just to make sure he kills us. That settles it; this guy is definitely evil.

I rolled over again, wiping the eye area of my mask to do away with some sweat and steam. I could make out the outlines of both Talen and his armed foe, and I hoped that my own opponent would be starting to focus his attention on my shadow friend as well. “Talen, I’m spent,” I tried to explain, while secretly cursing my own uselessness in battle, “I think my guy is using an all or nothing attack. He did get hit dead on with my kunai. Think you can handle these two buffoons by yourself so I can recover for a few moments? I’ll let you know what their planning from my position, if you can’t figure it out on your own…”

[Hysteria]

Talen didn’t chase his opponent when the man ran. The youth stood still; calm and silent as the events unfolded before him. His eyes were passive. The happy gaze he projected to the world still, filled instead by cold anger. The boy’s pale skin flickered with a red glow from the fire cast off one of his opponents. The boy would have probably felt heat radiating from the same light throwing fire, but only the cold cling of his wet cloths registered.

Steeled blue eyes followed the flick of the burning sword and the throw of glass. Talen normally would have laughed at the poor display. The youth had seen, and painfully felt much worse when it came to glass projectiles. The display barely registered as Talen’s eyes moved back to the darkness his prey had retreated too. Arrow punctuated the darkness, granting a reprieve the seconds before the glass struck.

THERE!

Talen’s body puffed out of existence. It was an instant and the youth was in the air three metres above Ceidon. The darkness the archer had retreated too could no longer hide him, as Talen started to fall through the air towards his target. The youth’s sword was freed from his back and in his hand in an instant, his body twisting in mid-air to bring the large blade in front of him. With his considerable strength he brought the blade down towards his prey’s shoulder and back, his body ready to land behind his target. There was the cold chill of night hanging the air, and now Talen.

There was something pulling at the back of the youth’s mind. It called to him, begged freedom to the world and tugged at Talen’s very essence. What it was, why it nagged at his mind with the subtlest of intentions was unknown, but one thing was sure. It called from the archer’s pocket.

[Zook Murnig]

Cohen's mind was ablaze with Djinn's power, channelled through his frail mortal form and soul. So, too, did every inch of his flesh burn to fuel the fire of the Salamander. The binding was not a permanent solution, nor even likely the best. But this needed to end, with all haste.

The pain, however, was not the only danger of binding the Fire King, and not the greatest, by far. Djinn was a creature of violence, savage warfare, and intimidation, and every moment he thirsted for battle, only sated by bloodshed. And the longer Cohen denied that beast, the greater the blood debt he incurred in his own flesh. The magician was, put simply, burning alive to spare his opponent, drawing short and wide every attack.

Even as he charged against the shrouded child, his every intent was on fear and intimidation, driving the inexperienced warrior from the field. When his opponent disappeared into the steam and fog, his Vision pierced the veil to reveal the teen prone on the rocks, his midnight clad chest rising and falling in exhaustion.

"Shaddai El Chai," he crackled as he paced to the boy, his voice sounding as embers. A steady, gentle breeze wafted over them as he knelt, clearing the heavy air. Fire within him screamed for murder as he held the flaming athame just shy of the child's throat. Just a single slice, and his lifeblood would fountain from him, draining his strength and emptying him, a delicious taste of mortality.

Cohen Ephraim ben Chayyim shuddered at the thought, a mix of pleasure and revulsion. A deep breath calmed him and he regained control. "Boy," he said, carefully holding the flame from his voice. "Look at me, and do not misunderstand. I have no desire to take your life, or that of your friend, and I and mine gain nothing by it." His eyes grew hard, then, as his face grew nearer the boy's. "But make no mistake, I will not allow your interference to continue. The Golden Dawn has business in Lornius, and I will not suffer your distractions from the pursuit of balance.

"Call your hound to heel and leave us in peace, and you may yet live to meet us again. Should you wish to settle this later, seek Caduceus Grimaldi, magician of Hearthwood, the bound of Djinn, servant of Nischa, deliverer of Paralda, and student of Ghob."