Forrals Fortress

[Silence Sei]

The creatures gently slept as the night sky loomed overhead. Even the orcs who stood watch at the guard towers would occasionally doze off and nod their heads down slowly in the quiet darkness. It was the perfect time for a silent strike.

The most advanced of airships carried the volunteers over the forest area of the three mile long aerial island. Any closer would get the pinnacle of flying technology shot down. The brave souls were given dossiers on the situation; they were to drop in and kill anything native to the fortress island.

The time to attack was nigh.

((Place for character intros. Erikar, Alyssa Snow, The Inventor, Warpath, and Philomel, make your opening posts, set the setting of the forest to your liking a bit, and after you all have made your posts, the assault shall begin! Good Luck Guys!))

[The Inventor]

Invetisto watched as the castle loomed closer and closer. The building was huge, 5 stories tall. The walls were probably two stories. Invetisto knew he had the disadvantage against these creatures. Most of them had wings and Invetisto had no long range weapon. As Invetisto tried to think of a way to kill these creatures, he was suddenly pushed out of the aircraft and started to fall into the forest below. The forest was made entirely out of pine trees that he knew would probably damage his clockwork mechanisms. As Invetisto fell through the trees and many limbs lodged themselves into the joints of his clockwork body.

As soon as the body hit the ground the body crunch and the head flew off. Out of the bottom of the head, Invetisto crawled out then brushed himself off. The millipede like creature looked at his clockwork body before he said, “Great, now I need to make another one.” This body had lasted Invetisto 10 years, a decent amount of time for the first creation. However, now it was nothing more than a pile of scrap. Luckily Invetisto had trained himself to use his hundred arms so he could attack and guard simultaneously. He wasn’t as good as he was in his armor, but he could at least hold his own. Besides, this gave him the advantage of surprise. Since he could easily sneak up on his enemies and kill them with a slight of the throat. Invetisto then just shook his head then headed for the wall. At least he could limb it without trouble, unlike if he was in his clockwork body.

[Philomel]

"Once more to war, my dear,
Once more to war,
Until we have peace, my dear,
It will be one more time - then more."

In her hand her white sword, that winter blade that reflected the cold chill that now resided in her soul, stood to attention. Ready to cleave any animal, beast or being, in twain, it was clean and pure but soon would not be. Once more it and the faun were on an airship, once more they were flying towards possible death. Once more they had been hired along with many other warriors of legend to stop a horror beyond imagining from intruding into the fragile peace of Althanas; a horror that threatened life as they knew it.

The zombie dragon had been somewhat petrifying. Yet after that Philomel had made the easy transisition from assassin-whore to Matriarch of her own society - still in an infantile stage, yet existant - complete with her own borrowed ship. The circumstances were somewhat fantastical in the fact her own mother had secretly become a pirate and thus given her a reason to become joint-Captain, and Matriarch. The circumstrances were also unexpected, in the view that now Philomel was part of some deep-seated organisation that spread over every ocean in the known world. Yet, the circumstances were, finally, somewhat beautiful. They had a sense of culmination to then, a tune of a coincidental melody that had somehow lead to the faun-whore gaining suddenly in power and magic all in one sweet flow.

Beside her Veridian, her beloved Earth-Spirit in the form of a fox, tensed, eager to have the battle begin already and kill everything in their path. Her eyes were focused ahead, straight to the front window of the airship, watching the floating island come into view and the trees of the forest get closer.

At least there will be plenty of earth, Philomel said to him mentally, blinking slowly.

The golden eyes glanced up at her, then turned back to the front window.

True. Though plenty of air too. His reply was harsh, brutal but to the point.

The faun-whore found herself smirking a little, Air is not the enemy here, love. Neither is water. We can work with them fine. It is fire that I would worry about.

Fire that burns.

Yes, the Matriarch of the Gilded Lily nodded, Exactly. Fire that burns.

Back over her shoulder she looked, eyeing up the others that had been hired to join them. She recognised the tall proud form of Erikar, one of the masters of the Crimson Hand, though he seemed to avoid her eyes as if to hide their connection. Personally, they had never spoken but they knew each other well. Similarly there was a girl with white-blonde hair whom matched the description to one that Leaf had battled, and drawn to. Philomel could not be certain if it was her, but later, perhaps, she would ask this strange girl with the boom-bangs also known as 'pistols' what her name was.

"Steady!"

The call came out, echoing over the ship interior. Two seconds of searching and a hand-grab later Philomel had a suitable rope in hand, one of the many connected to a weight that would help to lower them to the ground. Bracing herself, and tighting her hold on her blade with one hand and the rope with the other, she pushed the pressure into her hooves and prepared to jump out when the ship came over the forest canopy. There was a fair spot with massively leafy trees, perfect for making a soft landing. They also seemed tall enough to access the castle walls from there and attempt an assault.

Veridian took several paw-steps closer until he could hop onto the bottom of the rope, and onto the weight and sit there, preparing to make the fall also.

They made no eye contact or mental communcation, but they did not need to, as they were in synchronisation already. Fight together, remain together - they would not be separated ever again.

[Alyssa Snow]

Berevar. Colder than her birthplace of Alerar and even colder still than the frigid expanse of Slavar's barren trundra. Never before did the girl's lithe frame experience a chill so severe. Even encased in the thick furs of her fox skin coat, the windchill of the sailing airship and sub zero temperatures pierced through. As she shivered to the brink of near seizure, she watched warriors from all over the land prepare for the siege at hand. Each of their faces were seasoned, unique, and wore determination on their brow. Alyssa, on the other hand, wore doubt on her own.

A wave of turbulent wind washed over the exposed deck of their vessel like a tsunami. It caught in her hood, flipped it from her blonde locks, and forced her to a stagger. She did all she could to shield her eyes from the biting frost, and left little regard for the bite of winter on her nose, ears, and lips. As the airship eased out of the pocket like a knife through butter, the mage gunner noticed the clockwork man from earlier converse with the pilot. In a moment later, he dived off the deck below.

Concerned, she made way to the railing with a hustle and peered overboard. Into the cover of night, the clockwork soldier plummeted to what she could vaguely make out to be a castle wall. The distance of the drop alone sent a chill down her spine no cold could replicate.

"This is it?" she asked aloud to the figure beside her.

The constant roar of wind stole her words before reaching the intended audience. Then, she watched as the figure of a woman with legs of a goat jumped overboard with animal companion in tow. Alyssa watched the two descend below. The frog in her throat tightened at the notion she too would have to make this jump.

"This is our only window!" the pilot shouted, "Everyone... may the Thaynes be with you this night..."

She didn't care for his tone. It sounded like a death sentence. With a deep breath of the sharp arctic air, the mage gunner closed her eyes. She took a moment to remember Leona's words.

----

"A fortress? In the sky?" Alyssa asked mid bite of her morning omelette. Leona took a sip from her tiny cup of espresso, pinky out.

"Yes," the Leader of the Tarot replied. She placed her drink back upon its similarly small saucer and flipped another of her cards to the table.

"But why me?" Alyssa asked, this time muffled by the bits of egg and bacon crumbling from her lips. The girl swallowed and dabbed away the excess with her napkin. "Why not send Jensen? Ioder can fly, he's surely a better pick!"

No," her tone was flat, decisive, but still carried the warmth of a matriarchal figure. Leona flipped another card, the queen of pentacles. "It has to be you." She flipped another card, The Chariot in an upright position. "You are the only one with the determination, the will power to survive, and the assertion to command if necessary."

Alyssa raised a brow. "You're kidding, right? Are you sure you don't have Tobias and I confused?" She reached to take a sip of her freshly squeezed orange juice.

"Positive." Leona flipped another card, The Fool upright. "You have very little exposure to the world compared to the rest. Your innocence and clarity are a virtue. This experience is something you need."

The young blonde set down her glass half empty.

"Well, yeah, I guess, but these are strangers. I've never worked with them before, and you read the announcement. This won't be some simple hunting trip to thin the herd. I don't know what a cockatrice, a manticore, or sphyx are, but hundreds dead sounds bad. What if the others can't handle this? What if it's a death trap?"

"They can handle it," the woman across from her stated as very matter of fact. The next card turned face up, Death. Alyssa snapped her eyes onto it and fell silent.

"See?! That's a bad sign. I don't know a lot about your thing with these cards, but that," she placed her finger on death, "is pretty straight forward."

"Nothing is straight forward, Alyssa." Leona glanced up from her reading directly at her pessimistic colleague. As though offended, but without any indication of such on her face, the seer gathered all the exposed cards haphazardly into a pile. "You're going to go, you're going to live, and you're going to be that much the better when you return."

Just like a teen would in defiance of a mother, the gunner folded her arms and abruptly pushed herself into the backing of the booth. She pursed her lips and cocked her head - a child in her truest form.

"Listen, in the months you've known me, when have I been wrong?"

Alyssa's cold facade began to melt. She looked down, off in the distance.

"Exactly," Leona continued. "Now, before you go, there is one thing I want to show you."

The young mage gunner perked up at the promise of whatever this "something" may be. She always did enjoy a present.

"You learned a few new things since we last talked, correct?"

Alyssa nodded, curious to where Leona planned to go with this.

"Good. Finish your breakfast and meet me out back." Leona gathered up her mess of cards, the edge of Death still slightly exposed, and began putting them in proper order. The seer's face gave no hint as to what was to come.

-----

"Listen lass, you better go now!" the pilot shouted.

Alyssa opened her soft, aquamarine eyes, both renewed in spirit and determination. She looked below for an open area in the haze, spotted a perfect place with enough foliage to cover, and with another deep breath she launched herself off the deck. As the air below swallowed her, the deck hand that held her rope gave a petrified glance to the pilot. He returned the expression in kind.

[Hysteria]

Darkness is a curious thing. Often people had said to Talen that light and dark were opposites, while others said that darkness was the absence of light. These could not be further from the truth. Darkness was the default state for all things. It was more natural to be cloaked in darkness than swathed in light. When the latter appeared for the first time it washed away darkness, just as water washes away earth. Islands of darkness are called shadows, and to the simple minded in this area, shadows were as tangible as light. This is not true. Darkness is affected by light, just as the opposite of light can affect darkness.

This is where our little protagonist enters the scene. Talen looked the world like a normal child. His hair was short and unkempt, his cloths clean but well-worn. Perhaps, if you didn’t know better, you could attribute Talen’s dark cloths and blase attitude to an adolescent phase. To those that knew the boy, they recognised him as somewhat more complicated.

A decent question, and one that might be running through the mind of anyone watching our little hero, is why did he agree to enter this foolhardy adventure? Was it a vein attempt to catch up on the fact that he had missed out on fighting the plague dragon? Perhaps that was part of it; a general nudge from the back of the head that reminded him that he needed to be apart of the world he was living in, not just watch from afar. Perhaps though a better explanation was that he was driven to join. Talen was the youngest member of the Ixian Knights, but he was the founder of another group, the Red Six.

This group was somewhat more nefarious in their attentions, as indeed was Talen. Their mandate was broad and unapologetic in its desire for power and wealth. When the opportunity came to jump onto an airship, get thrown into an island full of potentially deadly creatures and win a lofty price; Talen was willing.

The cold air whipped around the boy as he sat on the top of the airship, causing his cloak and air to whip backwards behind him. Talen had forgone the journey within the ship for a more solitary journey and was surrounded by only the curve of the hull below him and the sky above. Just as the shadow was an island amid an ocean of light, so too was this island a haven against the developed world. Orcs seemed to be the most advanced creatures, with the rest still hopping around on all fours or flapping through the air.

The time came quickly, and Talen’s thoughts of the light and dark were shifted to the back of his mind. Members of the foolhardy expedition started to disembark from the ship towards and so too did Talen. He pushed himself to his feet, to two long strides and launches himself off the airship.

The air caused his cloak to trail behind him as he dropped past two petrified looking crew members. with the wind catching his cloak his two pistols were visible holstered at his hips and the dark metal of his gauntlets caught the light. Lets do this.

[Warpath]

The airship lurched again, shuddering. Flint opened his eyes and looked over those assembled, wondering if anyone else was keen to its struggle. The blonde looked dubious, for one, but Flint suspected that had more to do with the nature of what came next than any inkling of their precarious situation.

The air of Berevar had teeth: fangs of chill that could pierce to the bone. Berevar abhorred life. Its stark white vistas burned the eye by day, and its unholy cold permitted no movement by night. It drank stamina, and clawed away at heat wherever it could be squirreled away. To resist it only made it angry.

The airship's engines were resisting it now, and had been for some time. They brought mechanical heat and noise and movement to that desolate place, and Berevar saw and heard even if nobody else did. Flint heard the propellers stall and stutter - just for a fraction of a second here and there, but enough to be noted. He felt the deck rock beneath his heavy boots, and heard the wood complain. Berevar demanded stillness, and even the vaunted machines of Alerar would have to come to heel eventually.

Even this one.

People seemed to think Flint a Salvarman. Few realized that the place of his birth was far closer to Berevar than Knife's Edge - far, far closer. His blood ran thick, and in it the requisite will to defy the pitiless cold. To live in Berevar, one needed a furnace of rage at his core, ever-burning, because to rest is to die.

Flint's coat was heavy and long and fur-lined, but had no sleeves. His fingers were bare, and he flexed and tightened them into fists, anticipating the slaughter to come. He wore two layers of skintight cotton beneath the coat, and nothing more. His head was bare. He did not care if Berevar leeched his heat - he had enough to spare. He had enough hate to melt the entire continent.

Magic made this fortress fly: enchantment and artifice. Witch-work was like strings, tugging away at things from some unseen place to produce the illusion of miraculous animation. Flint relished the thought of cutting the fortress's strings. He longed to watch it tumble lifeless to the tundra below, a gift to Mother Berevar.

By now his companions had flung themselves out of the airship and into the forest waiting below. Flint did not watch them, did not examine them - they were immaterial. He took a single step, then a second, faster now to a third (his heart was thundering, louder than his boots pummeling the deck), now four, and the fifth just before he flung himself into the black breath of death himself.

It was a cold that could rob breath from the lungs, and cut the eye with its own tears. Flint roared against it and laughed before his boots hit the ground, and he was already running, caught up in his own momentum.

He charged between the trees toward the walls roaring: mad, bad, and dangerous to know.

[Erikar]

The Left Hand of the Order shivered, a futile attempt to fight the biting cold that permeated every aspect of this barren land. His green gaze followed the others as they departed the technological marvel one by one, most forgoing ropes in favor of their abilities. He noted only one face he recognized - Philomel, a member of the Order, although operating of her own accord - the rest were strangers to him.

He crossed his arms beneath his burgundy cloak, his face devoid of emotion. The shouts sounds of the crewmen sounded distant as he walked to the stern of the ship, the engines roaring beneath him. He had a deep respect for minds brilliant enough to fabricate such a complex piece of technomagic. A smile found its way onto his pale face as the heat from the flames rose and warmed his freezing limbs. The assassin lingered for a moment, still ignoring the desperate shouts of the crew.

"Ya' have ta' jump now! Yer' goin ta' miss the island, boy!"

Erikar finally turned to acknowledge the helmsman. He held out an open hand, waiting expectantly. A crewman, probably third mate, nodded and ran forward to hand him a thick rope. The Left Hand nodded back in silent thanks and walked to the port side, watching as the last man to jump finally hit the ground. He tied the rope to the baldric across his chest and pulled his bastard-sword from its sheath.

'Wouldn't want to lose that, would we?'

Erikar leaped off the edge, the wind cutting at his skin like daggers as he fell. He closed his eyes tightly, turning his hazardous tumble of a descent into a graceful dive, his blade held in a white-knuckled grip. The ground rose quickly to meet him, evergreens looming closer and closer. The assassin writhed in the air, positioning his boots toward the ground. He let his sword go, pushing it towards the ground to provide an anchor. The steel fell rapidly, aided by Erikar's abilities, and stuck deep in the cold, flying earth. The killer's descent found him under the blade, and he exerted his energy to push off the anchored sword. His haphazard fall turned to a leisurely descent between the boughs, and he seemed to almost step off the air and onto the ground when he released his manipulation.

The forest was quiet; no creatures seemed near. The emerald-eyed assassin walked to his blade, buried up to the hilt in the frozen dirt. He gripped the leather handle tightly, planting his feet as he pulled. The sword finally gave after a moment's struggle, and he wiped it clean on his cloak. Erikar placed the blade in it's rightful home on his back and pulled his burgundy hood back over his head, shrouding his youthful features. Scanning his surroundings once more, taking in the stinging cold air and crisp smell of pines, he humphed.

'Suppose I might as well follow that big macho bastard's trail..'

Erikar turned to follow in Flint's path, staying alert for anything that might pose a threat.

[Silence Sei]

The roar of Flint Slovik echoed throughout the trees. The warriors call was answered by dozens of similar calls; monsters that were now awake, angry to be stirred from their slumber, and hungry. The birds that managed to survive on the island decided it best to take their leave, and most of the creatures followed the initial sound that woke them up.

The orcs and goblins in the towers were also put on high alert. Without any sense of command to tell them where to aim, the creatures pointed their ranged weapons towards the air. With a grunt that sounded as though their throats were filled with phlegm, the humanoid beasts launched their arrows various ways into the air. It was not enough of a battalion to make a full wall of projectile death, but most certainly one or two arrows would fly towards a target. Six of them were aimed right at the falling forms of Talen Shadowalker and Alyssa Snow.

Within the forest, Philomel would find herself crossing paths with a manticore. The lion-bodied beast roared, its call more like that of a trumpet than anything else. Its scorpion tail whipped around as though it had a mind of its own. It raised its leathery dragon wings and shot five spines towards the faun. The spines themselves caused severe paralysis to the touch , with the intention of making the girl prone enough to completely devour with its three rows of shark like teeth.

The centipede fighting Invetisto was unlike any of the centipedes known to the world. It was roughly twenty feet long, with different kinds of arms that ranged from primate, to lion, to even actual bug legs. It salivated at the discovery of this new prey, green saliva oozed from its mouth and dripped to the ground, hissing and eating away at it. It tucked its head down and in a flash, disappeared. The astute eye could see the prints of the different legs left in the dirt as it circled around the inventor. It reappeared behind the machine man and opened its mouth to reveal dozens of rows of teeth. The foul stench of death reeked off this monster as it dived down towards the inventors head.

Flint and Erikar received the warmest greeting. Each of them was greeted by two griffins each. Each pair of bird lion’s circled overhead and screamed as they dived down at each of the warriors. They announced their presence with a caw as they flew down through the air and attempted to claw and peck at their prey with their talons and beaks. If they failed, they would take to the air once more and try again, surely the most difficult of the predators to defeat.

((Alright guys, opening is up and everyone survived! Yay! In this round of posting you may hurt the creatures but not kill them. This is not supposed to be an easy excursion. Because Talen and Alyssa were still in the air as they ended their intros, they merely have to dodge three arrows each aimed straight for them. Get creative with your writing here! HQs depend on it!))

[Philomel]

Indeed, the crown of the trees provided some form of support as they descended on wings of fortitude. The leaves slapped against their skin idly and the thin branches caught them in an unsteady net before cracking once, twice, thrice - then breaking. They were held there, faun and fox in the middle air for a moment, before snap, they tumbled from the sky. Perfect, the pause was enough to gain their footing and so they landed on two hooves and four paws. Bouncing off from the rope they let their connection to the airship go, and left the pilot to deal with it as he pleased.

Taking a moment to pause and catch her bearings, Philomel checked first to see if Veridian was still with her, then looked around them. Surrounding was trees, foliage heavy and dense. Unsurprisingly there were no man-made paths, just a track made by deer in the past few minutes. She took a moment to bend down and touch the ground lightly with the points of her five fingers of her left hand. Awareness left her, drifted into the earth. What she sensed through it was not much different from what they saw - trees every even space, every which way. She could not sense the castle walls, but by memory from seeing them from the height of the airship they were not far away. A trickle of a stream was forty metres away and some rabbit was chewing leaves near it. Philomel breathed in, and began to focus to sense if and where any beings of an intelligent kind might be - but not before something loud and rude burst in upon her awareness.

Loud, rude and certainly large. Within those fifty metres of her sensory range it smelt her, clear and strong, and with powerful muscles it bound straight towards her. Reeling back from it, Philomel let out a cry to Veridian, telling him that something was coming. What exactly, she could not be sure, but it was charging them at several metres per second.

Ferociously it crushed down the trees surrounding, and with a roar of vehemence jumped into plain view. Terrifying beyond any belief the manticore stood at eight feet to the shoulder, and its curled tail was at least twice that in total. As she tumbled and twisted, aiming to grab her beloved, the beast caught them in his line of sight. He reared up, right onto his hind legs, wide draconic wings flapping before his tail whipped back - then straight forth. Yet, the two had already begun to tune in their magic.

Five spines of spear-like length and sharpness detatched themselves and were sent shooting like javelins towards the pair. Micro seconds passed as they spun through the air, aiming straight for them. In her own mind she counted the moments, blessing herself for the ability to have seen this danger before the spines had detatched. As they flew down she breathed in, and the earth opened up beneath them. Like a wormhole to the next galaxy a portal opened, then closed over their heads and the spines harmlessly hit the ground, spearing only centipede.

In that same moment they appeared right behind the creature, behind its flank. Veridian leapt from her arms where he had been curled, and launched high to grab onto the manticore's thigh. Digging his claws in he managed to scamper up high as the beast stared in confusion to where his prey had disappeared to - then howled as the small Earth Spirit claimed the pain.

Her arms free now, Philomel drew her mythril sword, and swung it back to provide momentum before swiping at the same furred hind leg. Her aim was to cut it deep, and cause not only agony but obvious damge enough to cease its mighty speed. Veridian clambered up higher, aiming for the manticore's throat, keeping his claws in sharp to not be thrown off, whilst the faun-whore danced with all the speed she had and could muster to slice the leg once more.

[The Inventor]

Invetisto turned as he heard a screech of rage. What he found shocked and scared him, a centipede with legs of nearly every animal on the planet had just bit into the head of his useless clockwork body. It must have thought that the body was alive since it attacked the head first. Invetisto knew that the creature would be after him soon, and with the acid that seemed to come from its toothy mouth, he would have to say that it could kill him easily. So, Invetisto did the only logical thing he could. He bent down and ran like his ancestors, on all 1,000,000 limbs.

Invetisto ran through the thicket with agility and speed only a super segmented creature like millipedes could. However, the centipede was also a segmented creature and the minute it saw Invetisto scurry away, it gave chase. Invetisto stayed a step ahead of the centipede, but it would eventually come down to stamina. Whoever tired out first would lose the race. If Invetisto got tired, he would surely be the centipede's lunch. If the centipede tired first it would lose its lunch. It was a race of life or death. Who would win the predator or the prey?

Invetisto had no want to find out so he did the natural thing; he found the closest tree and started to climb it. The tree he chosen was a blue spruce. It had many indents in it that he could use as protection as he climbed the tree. Only problem was, this centipede had the limbs of nearly every animal type which meant it had the limbs of the monkey which made it easy to follow Invetisto up the tree. This didn't deter Invetisto; he could go higher than the centipede since he was a lighter creature. However, he knew he wouldn't be able to stay there forever. His plan was to get to the top of the tree and figure out a plan.

It didn't take long for Invetisto to hear the snap that indicated the centipede couldn't go higher. Invetisto looked down and saw the centipede stare at him with a hunger in its eyes. The teeth were bared as it hissed at him. The acid fell to the floor it tried to figure a way to kill and eat its prey. Invetisto watched as the centipede hopped from branch to branch as it tried to find a way to get to Invetisto.

Invetisto continued to watch as the creature continued to jump from limb to limb, finally he saw it. The acid didn’t hurt the tree. Why? Invetisto didn't know. However, if the bark protected the tree from the acid, who was to say that the bark couldn't protect him. With that in mind, Invetisto pulled out his tools and began to work on a way to use the bark as a protection. He honestly hoped it would work. An hour later and he had a plate armor that connected at his joints. Each segment over lapped him so that he wouldn't be noticed as he headed down the tree.

He made it right next to the animal before he decided to end the pitiful creature’s life. So with quick movement he swung at the creature with his knife aimed for the center torso where he thought the heart would be. Instead all he got was an acid burn and a melted dagger. Invetisto had hit the acid pouch and as such, it had lost its acidic saliva and had started to thrash as it tried to relieve its pain. It then looked at Invetisto who was on the branch with his top right hand in the top left as he tried to ease the burn. However, no matter what, he couldn't get it to stop hurting. It lunged at the millipede like sentient with new vigor. The teeth filled mouth made Invetisto gulped as he got on all 1,000,000 legs again and ran, he was slower than before as he rushed out of the tree and into the brush, a hurt and angry centipede on his tail.