Round 2: Team 3

[Max Dirks]

Round Two will beginning 3/17/17 at 3PM EST. Good Luck!

There are three paths to take.

1) Corone’s Army, conscripted from the barons, has surrounded Akashima. Its navy has blockaded the sea. In your thread, determine the fate of Akashima. Will Senator Fordstein’s deceit prevail, resulting in him being named baron of Akashima, or will the plot be unraveled before the armies move on their hapless foes?

2) Senator Fordstein and Ceidon Lore compete to obtain possession of the artifact discovered by Phyr, Leoric and Storm Veritas in the Jagged Mountains. In your thread, trace the fate of the artifact. Will it end up in Fordstein’s hands, will it end up in Ceidon’s hands, or will something completely different happen to it? To avoid an unfair advantage to those players, possession can be automatically assumed by any group.

3) Ceidon Lore has assembled a rag tag group of diplomats in an attempt to right, what he believes was a wrong that stemmed far deeper than Akashiman independence. The group sails south, following what Ceidon believes is a map to a new world. What will they find, if anything? Will they be absolved of the slaughter of the cat people, or forced to endure a much worse fate?

A good story will expand on one path. A great story will consolidate all three. In your thread, you must a) regardless of your alignment, work together with your partner overcome a major obstacle; b) somehow, beyond a mere reference, incorporate the Thayne Am'aleh into your story, and c) kill of a major player in the story (sans Ceidon).

[Fez_The_Kid]

And grim the weeks were.

Angst had spread like an unchecked disease through his body, bruising it and mind both. His usual rigid posture in the saddle was no more, and now he only adopted a clumsy slant atop his mount. His eyes weary from lack of sleep, Azaranth was hardly supported by his horse, a rocking joint of bone and muscle underneath. Weakness had, after all, developed like a poison in his extremities.

He had not since heard of Taka again after their last meeting when their supposed charges had attacked the quarantined Kevlarok. Nor, he feared, was it a far cry to say that they themselves could have killed the Ronin. But then for what reason would they spare his very partner, Azaranth? It was a mystery in and of itself, one he would strive to solve later.

No matter, Ramses had more or less given him strength, rousing the monster hunter when he slipped into a bottomless, frozen crevasse. The beast knew when to press him to continue, and when it was wise to back off. It was scaringly sentient; when he motioned it to do a certain maneuver, it would act precisely as he had wanted it to.

So much so Azaranth had the feeling it would soon utter its own name, despite his owning it for no more than a single week. Nevertheless, it sufficed as company for the ride.

Riding underneath the clouds, the Salvarian paid little attention to the broiling storm in the westerly horizon, a mass of dark clouds that winked blue. The flanking ocean shifted restlessly - as if regarding the powerful force that would soon cleave its way across. And looking north in the distance, the outline of a freighter appeared in a faint mist canopy.

He’d been tasked with retrieving a ‘device,’ an artifact potent with ancient power said to grant its user the ability to change natural weather and conditions. Salvar would pay carts of gold for this. I can’t even begin to imagine a year without snow back home.

That is, provided this Ceidon agrees to hand it over. Ought not to take it by force… so, no choice but to possibly sweet-talk him out of it. Azaranth then came to a slight descent. The road ended at a small cliff fifty paces ahead, the edge flanked by the starboard. A half-dozen people and a score of soldiers were onshore, the figures of sailors fast at work onboard the ship.

Lessening their pace to a steady trot, Azaranth guided Ramses down the slope and dismounted, eyes turning to hold him.

Ship’s set to sail within the hour, looks like. As he approached Azaranth gave each individual no more than a studying glance and halted. “Where is Ceidon Lore?” he spoke out.

Their gazes locked, then turned to hold him again. “Who’s asking?” one man questioned.

“Baron Ormandet,” Azaranth responded. “I’m here to negotiate terms with Ceidon. Now, where is he?”

“Here.” A cloaked man stepped forward, brown hair swaying. One hand was on the hilt of his longsword. “What do you want?”

“The Stormvein - I need it.” Azaranth let his request register in their minds, for what sane man would approach a group of and demand an object without price? “Hand it over, please.”

Ceidon flared his nostrils, sneered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Azaranth’s brow furrowed. “I am a monster hunter. I can sense and hear the small stuff; your heart beat quickening, for example, like a liar’s.” He savored the moment, then said, “Don't try - I know it’s with you.”

The scholar gazed at his entourage, who shrugged as one. “Tell Ormandet he can sit on a spear.”

“And what should I tell myself?” Azaranth said quickly, spite edging his voice. “And the Akashimans? All innocent lives, waiting to be lost.” He whispered, eyes narrowing— “It’ll all be on your hands if you don’t give it to me now.”

The men’s expressions betrayed that they were not so much as affected by Azaranth’s imploration. Ceidon himself, however, seemed to consider. “How can I trust you? What makes you different from the cut-throats who want to sell it for their own good?”

“You're right, there's no reason to trust me, but you'll have to.” Azaranth’s breath left him in a ragged sigh. “I suggest you have someone you trust keep an eye on me till I return.”

There was a long pause. “You’re insane, but... you’re not wrong - Akashima may not be that important, but it’s done no wrong to deal with an invasion.” Curses and reprimands shot Ceidon like a barrage of arrows. Alas, they all fell on deaf ears. Unmindful of the others’ blunt criticism, the long-haired scholar stepped closer. “But, only on one condition.”

Azaranth’s brows fractionally rose. “And that is?”

“This vessel is set to sail south. I’ve just concluded that there must be land there. How big, and how populated is it? We’ll know once we’re there. You seem like you know a thing or two about fighting, so here’s my offer; I’ll give you the Stormvein, in turn, you’ll accompany me and my men there, help us learn more about these lionfolk.”

“You mean an undiscovered continent? Could be true, but how can you be certain there’s land down there?”

“Long story, but you’ll have to believe me. I’m sure of it.”

After this, I’d be obliged to kneel before him. Can’t believe he’s actually giving me the thing. “Fine, but there’s no guarantee. Might not live to be honored by the company.”

Ceidon shrugged. “Then too bad,” he said dryly. “Undorth here will make sure to retrieve it from your body, should he find the need to.”

Azaranth beheld the huge warrior, concealed his awe at the man’s size. A moment later he extended his hand to Ceidon, who took it with a firm grip. “It’s a deal.”

“Oh, before I forget - you haven’t told me your name,” Ceidon said. “Tell me, what do they call you?”

The Salvarian chuckled. “Azaranth.”

[Max Dirks]

Team 3 is disqualified.