Paradox.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

(The Empire Needs You!)

(Moderator Notes: This thread continues from the following series Scraps of the Oni (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=17795), Days of Althanas Not Yet Passed (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=18791), Battle Scrolls (Links available there) (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=18909), Darkness Saga (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=16632), N'Jal Blade (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=18897), Proof (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=8825) thank you very much. I know its a lot of threads but I wanted to provide links to the back story. Thanks.)

Date: July 3rd, C.P. 1855
Time: 11:00 P.M. (Standard Althanas Time)

Prologue:

Lorenor left Corone a long time ago it seemed. Many years had passed since his ventures in Raiaera, Antioch, and Akashima. Working in secrecy to spread the influence of the N'Jal Protocol, Lorenor developed a foothold in Raiaera. Declaring a new enemy, his efforts against Xem'Zund were noticed by the powers that be. Rumors trickled down to Raiaera that the Empire had established an iron will on the populace. The Viceroys of Corone ruled with terror and violence. A new age of darkness spread across the globe placing the world in a dangerous situation that teetered on the brink of destruction. There were no more heroes. Now, there was only an age of villains. In this ripe time period, the creatures of the dark waited for their chance to strike and gain vengeance against those who would hunt them. In full swing, the Knights of Dawn were in operation in all four corners of Corone with their numbers wearing thin. Recruits were few and far between, and the regime was quickly falling apart. It was in this age of darkness and confusion, that a certain individual played his cards and made his presence known.

***

"Are you sure?"

"Without a doubt. The entire world has been thrown into chaos as was foretold in the time of Prophecy."

"There can be no doubt."

"Very well then. It is time for us to act."

*****

Pulling into the harbor of Corone's Jadet port city, the fleet vessel Goblin's Spire slowed down to a relative halt against the docking area. It was a massive ship, formerly a part of Corone's massive Navy. Once a dreadnought classed warship, the massive vessel was commissioned to its new duty to serve the civilian population traveling to and from Corone. A vessel that used steam-technology, the ship was cutting edge at the time of its christening. Named the Goblin's Spire, the ship was massive. It was roughly several yards long from tip to tip. Its sails went measured roughly fifty feet into the air. Designated as a sea-fearing ship, the Goblin's Spire traveled from Jadet all over the world. Tickets were sold in each of the dock-city in several levels and packets of wealth. Passengers could enjoy various levels of treatment from the different packages that were offered by the cruise liner. The ship was colored white with certain streaks of royal blue paint. It was a beautiful vessel. Kept rigorously clean by the ship's crew, barnacle and other material did not grace the ship's outer hull.

Formerly a warship, the vessel had seen its share of fighting. One would find scarring on the ship's hull if one were to look carefully enough but it only added to the ship's vessel. At any one time, the ship could carry several thousand citizens. It was commissioned by one of Corone's many royal families that had enough gold pieces for such a project during the time of Civil War. Water parted from the main bow portion of the ship. It cut water smoothly as it sailed across the ocean. Each side of the ship had its own distinct markings and designations. The marking for the Goblin's Spire was located on the starboard side of the ship. Several large masts had sails on them with the markings of Corone's Empirical Navy. It was nighttime when Goblin's Spire pulled into Jadet. The bow of the ship had a particularly strange angular design to it. The figurehead was simply a pointed spear-like protrusion that extended from the very tip of the bow's top most portion. Corone's markings flapped in the wind as the breeze carried the ship forward.

The ship sailed into Jadet approximately five minutes late due to conditions on the ocean and a storm that delayed them earlier. Surviving the storm, the ship was preparing to dock. As it settled into the harbor, the ship's passengers clapped in triumph at the safe journey home. For some passengers Corone was and always would be home. For others, Corone was an escape from the ravages of war. For others, there was the aspect of exploring the world and having the next adventure. For one though, Corone was an ugly place. No longer the bastion of Heroes and freedom, Corone had become a dark place. And one particular passenger was not looking forward to this homecoming at all. It was a necessary event though, one that would herald operations in Corone for the future to come. The particular passenger was a man known only as Lorenor V'Halkulus. He'd obtained significant status as a nobleman in both Raiaera and Salvar acting as a High Priest of the deity known as N'Jal. He had become an enemy of the Knights of Dawn in the process and was hounded by them at every step of the way.

But times were different now. Desperate for a solution to the problems of the Civil War, the Corone Empire was offering needed employ to all who would take it. Gold was being thrown in many different directions, and the Salvarn Lord saw an opportunity to increase relations between Salvar and Corone. He also saw opportunities in the industrial sector. A step ahead of the rest, Lorenor understood the nature of technology due to his exposure to a race of beings known as the Golems. Four of them were with him now, as well as a small group of emissary Forsaken from Lorenor's township established in Narenhad was known as Mosil-Z'sarug. Staring over the starboard side of the ship, and looking at the ocean beneath him, Lorenor stared at Jadet. Welcome home. He thought grimly to himself. It had been a long time of adventuring on other continents before word from allies back in Corone finally reached the mutant in Raiaera. Looking to Aeos' general direction, the mutant nodded towards the youth. "We'll be in Jadet soon enough."

Lorenor said in a low tone knowing that the boy could hear him.

Once the ship came to a full stop, the anchors were lowered and touched the bottom of the sea-floor. Lorenor, along with several hundred passengers made his way to sleeping Jadet. On the port-city side of the equation, several individuals were already waiting for the mutant to touch Jadet's township. Once Lorenor, Aeos, and a small group of Golems left the ship and began to walk towards the port-city of Jadet, Lorenor saw the individuals that were waiting. "Great. We have company." Stepping off of the ship, Lorenor and his entourage moved cautiously through the crowd of people that were gathered. Lorenor saw that a group dressed in the attire of the Knights of Dawn was already waiting for the moment. Damn these guys, they don't waste anytime. He thought to himself and drew his prevalida sword. Walking forward he took point in the general position of the party as the Forsaken and the Golems gathered around them. Lorenor raised his fist signaling his party to stop. Once that was done, the mutant looked at the representative Captain of the Knights of Dawn.

"Haven't I already done enough for you bastards already?!"

The Captain, a middle-aged handsome Coronian Highlander had blond hair and blue eyes. His hair was braided. He had a stocky, muscular build and large hands. He was dressed in civilian attire and not dressed in full skirmishing gear. "Peace." The Captain said calmly raising his hand towards the mutant. "We haven't come to detain you. You are no longer a target of the Knights of Dawn." The man looked at the gathered crowd. "Rather we have a different request of you this time." The Captain started. "This is not the best place to talk business. Can we go someplace more private?" Lorenor thought just then that he could very well be walking into a trap. But this time, he had muscle with him. He turned to look at the Golems, his Forsaken that were gathered with him, and Aeos lastly. The Forsaken numbered roughly ten-strong. He brought with him a small contingent of his finest Warriors and Magi. "Business huh?" Lorenor began calmly, keeping his composure. "Gentlemen. The good Captain has business to discuss with us." The gathered men started to cause a bit of noise and ruckus but kept their general composure. Number 5,325 walked up to his Father and stood alongside Lorenor. "Give the order and we shall detain these cretins." At that, Lorenor smiled to himself. "What you have to say you can say in front of my family. I am no longer alone." Lorenor said casually.

"Very well then." The Captain began. "I am Captain Eric Shaw. I am here to inform you that the Knights of Dawn have changed from its basic structure of old." Shaw looked around to make sure that the information he was about to say was not overheard by the wrong ears. They were out in the open so he had to be careful about what he said. "No longer do we simply follow the whim of Lord Draconus. We've broken free from that grasp." The Captain said revealing a crucial piece of information that Lorenor found very interesting. He stepped towards the Captain, and the other man didn't back down, instead he looked at Lorenor without fear. "We've been watching your international progress for a time now. We figure that we can set our differences aside." The Captain was saying. "There are several divisions of us now. Ones who follow Lord Draconus, ones who follow the Alll-Thayne, and ones who follow..." And the Captain stepped forward to come in very close to Lorenor. "The Dark Lady." He whispered casually. "We were told that if we presented you with something you would recognize, that you would be more eager to hear us out." Lorenor felt shock in his entire body as he listened to what the man had just said. The Captain grabbed an item out of his packs and presented it to Lorenor. It was a Seal of N'Jal. Lorenor could see the darkness flowing from the evil figurine. It had a spider motif to it.

As a High Priest of N'Jal, the mutant recognized the symbolism. "What is the meaning of this? You have aligned with the very enemy you have sworn to obliterate!?" The mutant took a step backwards. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Had that much changed in Corone while he was gone? Lorenor shook his head. "State your business Captain. You are overstepping your boundaries." Hearing those words, the Captain audibly sighed. "N-no. It was not my intention to insult you. You see, due to what you carry inside of you, you could become a valuable asset. You have intimate knowledge of the Thaynes. It could help modernize the Knights of Dawn. And furthermore, we have a parcel for you. I was told to keep it until the day of your eventual return to Corone." Lorenor blinked upon hearing this. A gift? Now they were talking. The Captain hesitated but handed the mutant the parcel. "Please. Can we go inside? This is matters of great import that concern the future of the Corone Empire." He said calmly, nervously looking around at the gathered civilians.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Of course, the commotion had gathered a large group of nosy bodies. The mutant suddenly realized that there were at least a couple of hundred people in the immediate surroundings, excluding the ranks of the Knights. Lorenor did not like his odds should a battle break out. He looked up and saw that the stars twinkled with the promise of the events that were about to unfold. They shared their secrets only with each other. Hearing what the Captain had to say, Lorenor decided that a gift was worth checking out. A thought occurred to him, this could very well be another clever trap. The mutant understood that and kept his eyes upon the Captain and his soldiers. With his sensory array, the mutant was capable of keeping tabs on all of the Captain's men. He could also keep tabs on the civilians that were gathering as well. Lorenor did not like his odds at all. The Endless was quiet, and N'Jal was quiet as well. What bothered him, was what the Captain mentioned. How could he possibly know about the N'Jal Protocol? Lorenor wondered about that much at least.

However, with his greed being a driving force, the mutant let his worries linger only for a few moments. He followed the Captain like a pup would follow a master. Lorenor saw that there were many pairs of wandering eyes on the situation that was unfolding. Some of the gathered members of the throng kept staring at Lorenor, whilst others observed the Knights and their ranks. "Walk with me." The Captain said, and Lorenor followed. The mutant kept a brisk pace, and stayed alongside the Captain. There were many questions to be asked. Lorenor simply stared straight ahead, having no need to let his eyes wander too much. "You're just like he said you would be." The Captain said calmly, a small grin on his face.

With his soldiers flanking, the mutant felt more than a little bit uncomfortable, but did not voice an opinion on the matter. A gift, however impractical, was still a gift. It was one of the mutant's primary guiding drives. He relished in it, he drunk it all in. Greed was one of his most basic emotions and he allowed himself to get suckered in every time. Taking a much more relaxed stance, Lorenor kept staring at the marble-stone road beneath him.

Jadet was an ancient city, with roots before the Demon War of Althanas' ancient history. Lorenor had managed to do some research in his spare time about the origins of certain major places. Jadet did not always stand where it currently stood. At one point it was simply an idea. An idea that brave men that were related to the ancient Highlanders of Corone put together. With proper financial aid, and bearing the harshness of The Wild in Concordia Forest, the Highlanders trekked to a suitable location for Jadet.

Needing to see an extended arm of Radasanth built, Jadet became one of the primary ports in Corone next to Serenti. Lorenor thought about the origins of this great city as he walked upon the ancient, finely polished marble. It was well-cut and seemed as though it were laid in the earth only yesterday and not thousands of years ago. Jadet hadn't changed very much since its early incarnations, except in certain cases the districts became larger, and the neighborhoods expanded. Many of the oldest of buildings still stood made of their original Coronian construction. Lorenor admired the architectural design of the Highlanders. It was a simple, square-cube like structure with several floors in certain cases. Windows were visible, and the structures were open aired. Hallways could be seen from outside, and they had sections that could be closed when monsoon-like rains came in from the nearby ocean. Lorenor took a glance back at the ship, and his only escape route. He'd been a prisoner of the Knights of Dawn several times in his life, and had to endure their interrogations. Never once, had he given up intelligence belonging to the Red Hand.

He would rather die than betray his clan-mates.

As Lorenor walked with the Captain, the mutant could see the latest fashions visible in Jadet. And ultimately, Corone itself. Women wore dresses that were low cut to reveal the bosom, aprons hanging from the waist, and cloth-linen materials flapping gently in the night breeze. Civilians dressed oft in simple attire, and it was not the attire of Adventurers or Merchants.

Extravagant outfits were for the well-traveled. Those who could afford the more expensive materials like Leather, Vlince, and the rest. Those folk traveled in questing parties preparing to meet the needs of some employer or another. In this area of Jadet, the area they were traveling to, there was a well-known underground operation funded largely by a group called the Syndicate. The Syndicate was a group of individuals largely responsible for much of the crime in current-day Corone.

Lorenor listened to the Captains' statement. It took him off his game for a brief moment, but he soon returned to it as he stared at the Captain's face. He took a moment to analyze the features of his face further. He saw that the man was more akin to the natives of Concordia Forest than a member of the Highlanders. "Who is that you speak of?" Lorenor wondered out loud. "You will see briefly." And the Captain continued to walk, he lead Lorenor to a particular house in the merchant's district that they were in. The house was built in the old Jadet design which meant that it was particularly old. There were low archways at the door's entrance and a couple of colorful canopies were visible. Scents of spices flowed from that house and Lorenor was not sure if this was a base of the Knights, or simply the Captain's house. When the entourage halted in front of the house, the Captain waved his hand to signal the troops to disband. "We're here. All except Honour Guard are dismissed. Go to your stations until summoned by High Command." And the troops disbanded, there were only six men left afterward all wearing the armor of Jadet's local police force. Lorenor followed the man into the house.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

The architectural design of the house was fairly modern in nature. It was constructed in the style of Corone's Highlanders. Originating from the plains near the Comb Mountains, the Highlanders were a sturdy lot and build sturdier structures. Having adopted a simplistic architectural design from the Dwarves of the Comb Mountains, the Highlanders produced wares that were visible in Jadet. The building was a mish-mash of cultures. Jadet's general architectural design was prevalent along with the culture of the Dwarves from Comb Mountain and the other mountain ranges of Corone. The Dwarven influence could be seen in the pillars that held up the house, its archways, and the sturdy oak doors. The door handles were made in the images of the creatures living within Comb Mountains' vast cavernous reaches. Terrifying to behold, the door knobs seemed to stare off into infinity. Constructed from brass, the doorknob was clacked three times against the door. A few moments later, someone from within the house responded and allowed the guests to enter within its structure.

Immediately, scents of various sorts traveled across the mutant's sensory array. The air was laced with the potent stimulation of spices, alcohol, herbs, and the plant known as cannibus. Lorenor noticed several men in the middle of the room smoking through a water pipe. Smelling the powerful smoke that came from the water pipe and the men, Lorenor began to cough audibly. Thickly, the scent of ganja was in the air. Each of the merchants were lavishly dressed in Vlince attire. One of the men looked up at Lorenor and his companion.

"Ah. Eric. Bienvienu back mon." The dark skinned merchant said casually revealing the Captain's first name. "Sit down mon." The dark-skinned man said and Eric Shaw sat down, he motioned for Lorenor to do so as well. When the mutant was done coughing, the air got a little bit easier to breath, he took lung-fulls of the tainted air and sat down next to Eric Shaw. "Shaw-mon it's been ages mon." The dark-skinned man spoke with a thick Keribas accent. He was wearing some sort of a turban on his head, and wore flowing robes. The man had black dots on the side of his right eye.

"Wendell. I agree my friend. Too long." The captain was handed the water pipe. There were long tubes flowing into the pipe with an apparatus at the end of the tube to inhale from. "Have dis herb mon." The dark-skinned man said casually. He exhaled smoke through his nostrils. Grinning, Eric Shaw took the pipe into his mouth and took a deep pull of the strong cannibus. He exhaled the smoke a few seconds later, with a relaxed expression on his face. "You try it Lorenor." The Captain said. Reluctant, the mutant complied. He saw it as a direct order from a superior officer.

Putting the pipe against his lips, the mutant took a deep pull of the substance. Smoke, gray as storm-clouds flowed down his throat filling his body with uncomfortable heat. As it flowed into his system, the heat was intense and it felt like he was taking a living organism in his lungs. Taking a deep pull of the cannibus, the mutant began to cough suddenly and shook against the substance. Smoke burst out with the coughing. Despite the strange feeling in his chest, the mutant found the whole scenario rather pleasant. He liked the taste of the smoke and took another pull of the cannibus smoke. The dark-skinned man from Keribas laughed at the mutant's reaction. "Mon likes da ganja." Lorenor nodded furiously as the man said that. Then passed the water pipe to the next person in the circle of smokers. Lorenor felt chills going up and down his spine and his hands were shaking with excitement. He kept looking around the room and saw vibrant energies flowing through the air. It was at that point of relaxation that the mutant became more observant as an effect produced directly from the weed.

Lorenor coughed a few more times but he leaned back against the pillow he sat on. His entire body felt extremely relaxed as he shivered from a perceived cold. Lorenor looked at Eric and the black man for a moment. "Okay why am I here?" The black man responded. "You are agents of Babylon mon. Come see da Prophet."

"My name is Captain Eric Shaw as you've gathered so far Lorenor. I am a member of the Cult of N'Jal." Eric removed his shirt and upon his chest were the cultist symbols of N'Jal. The markings of a Servant of N'Jal. The symbols were in spider motifs. Observing the man's chest, Lorenor nodded in approval. The gathered men all had symbols of N'Jal upon their person and revealed them to the High Priest of N'Jal. Lorenor. "How can I help you ken?" Lorenor asked politely knowing he was in safe hands amongst the disciples of N'Jal.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Lorenor saw dragons chasing the breeze made of smoke. He could see shapes in the thick smoke, so thick that it made his eyes sting. Feeling the effects of the powerful herb, the mutant sat back and closed his eyes for a moment. He allowed his thoughts to travel through his mind. Flowing much like the thick smoke, Lorenor found himself more relaxed than he'd allowed himself to be in the past few months and years. Many events had occurred that propelled the mutant forward across a time line that could not be reversed. Lorenor sat there for a moment as he listened to the followers of N'Jal speaking. These were human servants of the cult, and not Spider-Magi. Times were dark indeed if the Knights of Dawn had an entire sect of the Cult of N'Jal within its ranks. Lorenor heard Eric speaking to the men from Keribas in a tongue that was partially common-tongue, and partially something else. Lorenor knew that they spoke in a thick dialect, and he wondered if he would have the opportunity to learn it sometime. The mutant sat on a pillow that was actually quite comfortable considering the gravity of the situation.

"Who is the Prophet?" Lorenor found himself asking without meaning to interrupt their conversation.

He saw that Eric Shaw took another pull of the ganja herb put the tube down, coughed a few times, and turned to face Lorenor. "He is someone that has been an influence to your life countless times before in the past without you realizing it. He is a mover and a shaker." Lorenor nodded to himself. "Do I know this man?" Lorenor asked. "You met him in a past life, a past incarnation of yourself. You've apparently had many incarnations across history. This is only your current form of many." Lorenor frowned at that. Many incarnations? More than one life? What is he talking about? Lorenor shook his head.

"I don't understand what you're talking about..." Lorenor began, but he saw that Eric cut him off by raising a hand.

"You will in due time. We have information for you concerning your past lives. It calls into question the very nature of reality. Your capacity for cheating death itself is very lucrative to us."

Lorenor thought about that for a moment. His ability to regenerate was only part of the puzzle. He knew that to be true, was that what he was talking about? Lorenor hoped that it wasn't the case because lots of folk on Althanas had the capacity to regenerate. Why did that make him unique in anyway? Lorenor's thoughts were a maelstrom of confusion. He realized with a start that there was another individual in the room with them that had just suddenly materialized within his sensory grid. How long has he been standing there!? Lorenor thought to himself.

"The ganja herb is an interesting substance." Came a new voice, a thick accent that Lorenor did not recognize but somehow sounded familiar at the same time. "It has medicinal properties." The newcomer walked towards the group. Lorenor saw that Eric and the rest of the men were bowing their heads deeply. He assumed that this was the Prophet that they were speaking of earlier. Lorenor observed the strange looking man. He had long flowing robes that were a royal blue color, and the mutant guessed it was some masterwork quality of silk or vlince. Or some combination of the two. The mutant analyzed the texture of the robe from his current sitting position and felt a certain degree of comfort against his skin. He closed his eyes for a moment attempting to picture the types of materials that could produce such a degree of comfort when his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the man's words. Lorenor opened his eyes to pay attention to what the man said. Staring at the Prophet, Lorenor saw a man that stood about six feet and five inches, and had a heavy build to him. He looked like he weighed well over two hundred pounds. The man had platinum colored hair that was braided and ended at the small of his back. Lorenor saw that he had intense blue eyes. He had a sharp nose, and other sharp facial features. His chin was pointed and his jawline was angular. Overall, the mutant found the Prophet to be quite handsome for an older man. He was appealing to the eyes, and gave off a tremendously powerful aura.

Lorenor wondered what sort of skill and training the prophet had. By the exotic features of his face, the mutant was unable to judge what nationality or country he hailed from. He saw several markings on the man's face. Underneath the left eye were several dots in consecutive order burned into his flesh. On his forehead was a jewel that shone brilliantly with its own sort of energy. Lorenor saw that the man wore an amulet, wore gloves, and was wearing a pair of boots. He also wore a long cloak that dragged against the ground. It had a hood. The mutant observed what details he could about the mannerisms of the Prophet. But he could not learn much. The man appeared to be a very controlled individual. His eyes held a storm within them that suggested the power that was his to command. Lorenor nodded with respect to the Prophet. "I take it you are the Prophet?" Lorenor asked. The man nodded and grabbed a pillow for himself, then sat on it in a perfect lotus position. Lorenor saw that the man looked around for a bit and his eyes finally returned to Lorenor. "I am he. I have been observing for some time now." The man said in response. "My name is Nenkulor. My last name is irrelevant to the task at hand as I've disavowed all ties to my previous lives." Lorenor saw that he paused. "All except one. You." He said to Lorenor.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

"What would you have me do?" Lorenor asked, his face becoming quite serious. "Keep in mind I have no loyalty to Corone. My loyalty is with Salvar. And to N'Jal." Lorenor said making sure they understood where he was coming from. Seeing the man's expression as a reaction, Lorenor frowned deeply after the man smiled. "What of your position with the Red Hand?" The mutant immediately wondered how that had become public information. A sad expression crossed his face as he looked at Nenkulor. "Sadly. The Red Hand is no more. I keep its memories alive though and the spirit of the Red Hand in my heart." Lorenor said. "You became a council member did you not?" Nenkulor said. Strangely, the other members of the room remained quiet whilst Lorenor spoke with the prophet. The intense smell of the cannibus plant made Lorenor more susceptible to the man's interrogations. Lorenor simply nodded to his questions. "Yes. I was involved with the Red Hand for a long time. Several years of my life."

"And you were privy to critical information of strategy?"

"Some." Lorenor responded, not liking where some of the line of questioning was going. "But I cannot divulge what that is. I'm sorry. I will not betray allies." Standing up, Lorenor prepared to take his leave. "If you gentlemen will forgive me. I must be on my way. I have matters to take care of." Looking at Nenkulor, the mutant nodded and made a move to leave. However, the cannibus herb was taking its effect. Falling down on his knees, the mutant caught his balance with a hand. He looked up from his position as Nenkulor moved over to him. Nenkulor helped him stand. "You took a lot of that herb. It's best if you stay a while. The herb is very powerful and is known to make the body relax. I am not certain how it will affect someone with your anatomical predisposition." Lorenor caught some degree of balance and opted to sit down once more. He realized it would be some time before he could leave of his own free will. Damn i shouldn't have smoked so much of that stuff. Feeling a queasy sensation in his stomach from the sitting down movement, the mutant took a few deep breaths.

"Do you want something to eat?"

"I would be thankful for that yes."

And that's how it all began.

[Duffy]

Set after Corone Ranger's Vault, Lucian's Call, The Cut And The Thrust and any Vignettes. First post or two is set in the past to Lorenor's present, we will meet shortly.


Paradox (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qFBvWy-8yZc)

The dream becomes reality…

So soon reality must sleep…

Is reality therefore a lie?

Is reality a fabrication?

Duffy didn’t know how he did it, but he at least dawned on the true meaning of Lysander’s riddle. On their journey north through Concordia, the modest town of Underwood, and north further still through the dank and sodden countryside, the brash man had imparted a slippery tongued colloquialism; despite departing at the city gates two days ago, only now did the young man ‘understand’. Truth be told, there were a many million things he didn’t ‘get’, he was still far too young to have learnt anything deep and outstandingly intellectual.

His meeting in the clearing with the simulacrum of his dreams had not been the solution he was searching for but it hinted further at the curse Lucian had lain on his shoulders. It hinted strongly, very strongly, that lifting such a curse would be a task of great difficulty and of great struggle. The man in his dreams Lysander may not have been, but the shadowy figure that haunted him with tantalising obscurity had to be here…had to be… Such an alien request Duffy had, so it was only right that he would find one to answer him in a place so far away from home.

What a place this was indeed; Radasanth loomed on him, the first sights of the walls burnt into his retina and still they burnt brightly despite a million other visions dragging him deeper into the city. The streets and sunny sanded boulevards and dank alleyways between districts were a familiar sight, but the smells of the local cuisine and the laughter of the tough, deep locals cast a different light on a similar act. Spices cascaded down from one opening in a wall, only to be washed away by the smell of soapy laundry, condensed heat and squalid living from another. If such a word had ever found it’s way into his vocabulary, the gods would no doubt hear the young boy muttering about ‘alfresco living’ and ‘cosmopolitan splendour.’ It wouldn’t take long for the locals to show their hospitality, with plenty of spit and snarls and comments along the lines of ‘bullshit’ neither. In his dapper wit, he settled for “Welcome to Radasanth,” and moved on with his hands flopping by his sides and the weight of his backpack keeping his feet dragging on the ground.

In a similar fashion to him, Duffy stopped dead in his tracks as a squalid woman slithered to his side, hands held out with reproaching eeriness. She asked for coppers, gold, change, lint, whatever the ‘polite gentleman’ could spare; compassion so easily found in most men of a lower class faded, and he waved her away with a hesitant sense of disgust, of mistrust well placed. The rose tinted glasses that covered his advanced into inner-city shattered, their crimson fragments falling in a reticent and clattering cloud of lost nerves; people here were just as poor as they were in Scara Brae. They were just as poor, Duffy concluded, because those in the great white washed houses and towers and manors were not distributing their wealth, or cascading their generosity on those who really needed a helping hand…he muttered a line under his breath, pausing to look up at the higher buildings, and bask in the one thing that felt human left in the city, the sun’s rays.

Among the flowers with a kettle of wine
I pledge myself without any company
I raise the cup and drink to the bright moon
Who will with my shadow make up a company of three…

This scourge on the humanitarian collective was what Lysander had spoken of, in great detail. Having not been introduced to the socialist ideal until their meeting, he had found the information most enlightening, most thrilling, most lightning bound and clasp with forbidden enjoyment. With an urge that could move mountains the Tantalum, already an altruistic heart vowed thrice to remove the bourgeoisie from power! Only three days later he was ready to abandon the idea as a lost cause, a remnant and mad idea from the bottomless, hopeless, useless pit of compassionate ideologies. The old woman, whose drab grey robes and pale skin ran away with the stone beneath his feet and the monotone façade faded from view. Soon Radasanth ran grey and solemn, instead of vibrant and Technicolor. The river of his passing mingled with the daily routines of thousands of others - the city communion took another casualty, there would be no return.

Duffy doubted if he'd ever come back after his job was done. No Scara Brae bounty and no Scara Brae love would be here, no spark of creativity to keep the people uplifted, upended, uneasy. He much doubted if there were any theatres here at all, and if there were, he didn’t think they’d employ visionaries that truly wrote from their temples and chests. They would write debilitatating, nonsensical drivel without conclusion, grammar, wit or rhyme…yes, he re-assured himself. “There will be no love for the stage here, no grounds for the flick of a quill…” Paramount to such thoughts were the growing pains he felt so passionately in his feet, jowls (for he talked to much to himself on the road) and the curve in his pack-mauled spine. Finding an inn replaced all the worries of the journey here, smothered any need to find the meaning of the dreams he was having and certainly, it smothered any requirement to satisfy his curiosity or explore this lifeless desert further…

Sleep…that was his goal, and Duffy began to search for an inn to satisfy his gaeas. It would be nice if he could do without being robbed, killed or press ganged in the process; you heard rumours about Radasanth as a child, even as far over the sea as the Tantalum’s home - he nor anyone else had any collective urge to test, train or trial such scare-mongering. They could stay dead, fae and legendary for all he cared!

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Concluding his business with Nenkulor the prophet, a proposal was placed on the table. The Corone Armed Forces were searching for powerful warriors, and the Prophet had explained a considerable amount of information to the mutant. Lorenor learned much about his mysterious past, and understood now that his life was a constantly moving cycle of transformation and evolution. Learning that he'd had many past lives, the mutant realized that Nenkulor would never withhold any information about his life. Lorenor learned a great many details about the past, and where he was heading for the future. With a powerful drive to move forward, Lorenor understood what his place in the scheme of things was. As a fearless individual, Lorenor had the power to change the future itself. He was moving in a spiral forward, it was all zig-zags and parallel lines. Trying to understand the prophet was like trying to understand quantum mechanics. Lorenor just didn't have the gift of foresight like the prophet had it. Instead, Lorenor attempted to understand his future.

Of one possible time-line, there were literally millions upon millions. Each time-line was one spoke of a tree, one spoke of a grand scheme of things moving inexorably forward, and sometimes looping in on itself. Nenkulor had explained that Lorenor was a resulting paradox. A literal blight on the normality of the time/space continuity of Althanas. It was the reason the mutant was capable of cheating death itself. Many hours passed since his long conversation with Nenkulor and the followers of N'Jal. After the effects of the cannnibus weed had passed, the mutant found his strength returning. He'd eaten a hearty meal made up of local monsters from Concordia, boar meat, and other other such items. There was even a potent cocktail made out of various juices. Spices were added to give the cocktail a flavor that was unique. Thinking deeply about what he'd learned, the mutant sat in his chamber within the house. The hosts of the building were kind enough to offer the mutant a suitable room. Sitting on the bed, the mutant drank of the juice that was offered earlier. He had a pitcher of it by his bed.

As Lorenor felt the hours rolling by, he could hear the living darkness in the world outside. The mutant stood up and opened the window to allow the darkness into the room. It flowed in, and he could hear sounds in the wind from the various denizens of Jadet by night. The next destination would be Radasanthia proper. Moving out towards a balcony area, the mutant felt the wind flowing through his dreadlocks. He stared out at the tops of buildings nearby to his position, and looked at the streets as people moved through the shadows conducting this or that affair. Taking a sip of the juice, the mutant continued his personal observations of Jadet. In one quick movement, he spied the ocean off in the distance as the port-city conducted business throughout all hours of the day and night. Lorenor's power returned to full strength in the dominion of night. He looked up and saw that there were few clouds in the sky, stars twinkled across the aether of space and time, and the moon stood in one of its many distinct quarters. She was not pregnant during this time of the month. The mutant turned his attention to a couple on the streets that were having sex. He grinned at that as he heard a knock on his door.

"Come in." Lorenor said calmly. "It's unlocked." Lorenor turned to face the visitor at hand. A now familiar scent entered the room. Lorenor saw that it was Eric Shaw. He nodded towards the other lad for a moment turning his attention to him. "Can't sleep either?" Eric asked. "I don't really sleep anymore. Its a waste of time. Time is the most valuable asset we have." Lorenor said casually. He walked towards Eric. "Is there something I can assist you with?" Lorenor asked. Eric nodded at that. "Actually there is something. Nenkulor mentioned that somehow you carry the Dark Lady within. We were told of this beforehand, but I had to see it in order to believe it myself. How is this possible?" Eric asked. The mutant listened to the man's concern. Sitting down on a chair he looked at Eric for a moment. "Have a seat Eric. We're going to be here for a while." Lorenor said. He looked in the general direction of the bed and saw the three books of the Necronomicon as he'd laid them out exactly on it. Lorenor was reading the scriptures for a while in deep study after Nenkulor's lectures. He understood where Eric was coming from, Althanas proper had been lied to about the nature of the Thayne. Lorenor was ushering a new era on Althanas, one that would boldly lead them all forward to a newly discovered future.

"How did you acquire the Ancient Works?" Eric asked next."

"It's like this. When the story started, I was in Haidia for a long time. Things there run different from the Overworld of Althanas. There's an Overworld and an Underworld. In my adventures within the Underworld I discovered the location of one of the books. The rest of the books I discovered in various places in the Overworld." The mutant hesitated, he felt that the journey to the Necronomicon was a sacred journey, and one that should not be taken likely. He turned to look at the books for a moment once more. And continued the speech. "The Thayne are constantly at war with one another. The old scriptures were wrong, what we see of the Thayne in the Firmanent is one possible manifestation out of many possible manifestation. N'Jal works like that too. When she crash-landed in Valinatal I heard the Call of N'Jal. I journeyed to Raiaera to witness the devastation of Xem'Zund with my own eyes." Lorenor said, thinking about how Raiaera currently lay torn asunder by the greed of Xem'Zund's burning crusade.

"So you can hear the Call?" Eric asked, placing a hand against his chin. "I was always wondering what that is like. N'Jal is currently in Raiaera?" He said. Lorenor shook his head. "No. N'Jal is within me." The mutant touched his chest to emphasize what he meant by that. "We can make the pilgrimage to Mosil-Z'sarug at a later date. Or-" Lorenor hesitated at that last part. "I can introduce you to the Dark Lady now." The mutant wore a slight grin on his face. "But that process is more or less very painful." Lorenor saw that Eric hesitated slight, and he kept his hand to his chin as he thought about everything he had just heard. "So the ancient scriptures were wrong?" Eric asked. Lorenor nodded in understanding. "N'Jal is not a big spider as we were lead to believe. In fact, she's very small. Tiny. We cannot see her with our naked eyes alone without assistance." Lorenor explained. "Also. N'Jal is not oen collective organism, but a multitude of smaller parts in unison as one whole entity. You will not understand this until you experience N'Jal for yourself." Lorenor added.

"Will I become like you?" Eric wondered out loud.

"No. I am something else, all together." The mutant grinned again, he kept his eyes locked on Eric's person.

"All right then. I want to know N'Jal like you know her. I have dedicated my life to the ancient ways." Eric added. "I want to be able to read the sacred texts with my own eyes."

"You don't need eyes to see. You don't need a tongue to taste. You don't need ears to hear. With the will of N'Jal all miracles are possible. The Word is all that you will need. Have Faith in the Word." Lorenor said. Eric nodded. "What do I need to do?"

"It has already begun." Lorenor walked over to Eric, grabbed the back of his head, pulled his hair so that he could reveal his neck, and reached down. With his maw extended, Lorenor bit at the man's neck...

[Duffy]

As Duffy explored the city streets, and the assault on the senses died down to a mere stream of temptation, it soon became apparent that finding anyone here would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Of course, the haystack would be the size of the castle in Scara Brae, and the needle a small silver streak in the darkness, but it was an apt enough metaphor for the impending sense of bewilderment and loss that struck his puny little mind. There were inns enough along most of the large streets running from the outer to the inner, but none of them looked appealing enough to warrant even asking about a room, never mind getting to discussing prices, local cuisine or the current residents.

The Salty Sailor seemed promising enough, but he’d quickly changed his mind when two burly looking dwarves had tossed a scrawny excuse for a man out of the saloon window and shouted something so lewd you’d need a very large word tome to decipher it’s meaning. The man had picked himself up, as if by an invisible hand, and swaggered back to the door in proud defiance before a much larger hand, of an equally invisible nature had connected with his face and he returned to the gutters with an oddly satisfying crunch. Something wasn’t right there, Duffy had concluded, and he continued to walk on.

He passed Jon Tom’s Takeaway, a clapped out shop which promised Rumme enoof fur two; the only thing it looked like it could promise was a healthy dose of disease and a few hours vomiting of food poisoning behind the barrels in the cellar. Nobody here seemed to care about welcoming visitors, but it didn’t jump into Duffy’s mind that he was in a less hospitable, less open area of the city’s sprawling heights and endless districts. Something about prison breaks and wars and corruption came to the forefront of his memory, but neglecting to pay attention in all those history lectures from Old Man Ramble hadn’t come to help him when he needed it most. He refused to get homesick, and soldiered on.

The headscarf, tabbard and various belts the young traveller wore concocted the image of a well adjusted, and well armed adventurer. The dress attire here was very different to Scara Brae, but Duffy had dressed oddly even for there, so he fit in and became a faceless, nameless face in the wave of people coming and going everywhere he went; ss indistinguishable from one man to the next as each tavern front was from the last chronically abysmal excuse for smallholdings. By the time he went into the check his third, he strongly doubted there was anywhere safe to sleep in Radasanth, not even a place where he’d lose only one eye; all or nothing tantamount to the desperation on some of the people’s faces that he did notice, peppering the crowd of stern ombudsman and merchants like a screaming child in the orphanage.

With his usual aloof and wobbling walk carrying him on and on and on, he almost didn’t manage to stop without falling. Struck by a sudden attraction to the building to his left on the corner of the street he was on, it veered around and along a more pleasant and tree lined avenue distinctly quieter than the three streets branching off to the north. Considering it far too much to be coincidence, he ventured nearer and side winded through the arrayed benches and flower pots with small neatly trimmed orange trees out front and read the billboard and signs at the foot of the sparklingly clean steps.

“Ye Old Harbour Inn,” he coughed and guffawed at the same time, “well I always knew Jackson would ‘franchise’ but never would I be so happy to drink his piss weak ale than now,” the chalk was unmistakingly written in a familiar hand. Looking the front of the inn over, it was almost identical to the one in Scara Brae they annually performed in front of; every detail, down to the broken window on the third floor and the rigging hanging out of the ground floor windows was identical. Either Duffy was hallucinating, or someone had gone to an incredible amount of trouble to replicate that ‘Scara Brae Air miles away from it’s wondrous source. He stepped up onto the front decking and slipped inside, the smell of pine and salt instantly vaporising any fears and any tasks he had.

At last! He proclaimed mentally, approaching the barman who could be no-one else but Jackson’s twin brother, “good day t’ya sir, a room if you please, if one can be sparn, (spared earnestly).” The tiredness in his feet, in that unfortunate way that it often did became fever pitch screaming. It was as if his nerves knew he was moments, seconds, one last push away from hitting a comfortable mattress and ‘taking a load off.’ He was here, in Radasanth, at long bloody last.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Just as Duffy arrived at Radsanth proper, the mutant's childe was finishing his transformation. Eric Shaw looked considerably different after the N'Jal Protocol settled into his system. Lorenor noticed that Eric Shaw appeared to be much more handsome than before, with a pale sort of beauty that was reminiscent of an Elf and not a human being. Eric had lost his eyes in the process and they were replaced with a noticeable purple glow that flowed from the man's soul. Lorenor admired Eric's beauty as an Undead. For he was a truly handsome specimen. With the bite, the plague as well as the N'Jal Protocol was passed. However, the N'Jal Protocol required more concentration to pass into a host, and the host had to willingly accept the goddess into their bodies. Once N'Jal bonded with the host body, the rest of the transformation could take place. Lorenor remained close to Eric Shaw as the manifestation was complete. He saw the glowing eyes, and Eric had ripped out his own tongue, his ears were burned off, and his hair grew considerably longer. He blinked several times as if adjusting to the newly discovered vision.

"I-I can't feel my eyes." Eric said in a stunned fashion. Lorenor nodded. "The True Sight will take a time to get used to. With proper training and experience you will become a formidable ally." Lorenor said as he looked at the newly created Forsaken Warrior. As a mutant, the two seemed to contrast one another. Lorenor with his gray skin, and Eric Shaw with his milky colored pale skin. His hair color remained the same as well as everything else. Eric was touching his face as the realization that he no longer had no nose settled in his gut. "W-what, has happened to me! Lorenor, what is this madness?" The mutant sighed. "Everything has a price Eric. To become a Spider-Magi is to know purification at the hands of N'Jal. You will become powerful in due time. You do not have the blight that I possess. Yet. You have bonded directly with the N'Jal Protocol." The mutant continued. "I can give you further power, such as the Endless should you seek it." He said calmly. His words still hanging in the air for a time as Eric touched his own face with absolute shock in his heart.

He'd clawed out his own eyes in the hysterical throes of bonding with the N'Jal Protocol. After all, it was not everyday that one put the essence of the goddess in their body. Lorenor felt the presence of Nenkulor come across his sensory sphere, and the mutant opened the door for him before the Prophet could knock. "That's an impressive trick Lorenor. You're going to have to show me how you can do that without the art of the Seer." Nenkulor said. "It's nothing. It's simply just how I perceive the world." Lorenor said in response. "How is Eric doing?" Lorenor nodded. "The initial shock is settling in, but he will be fine. Eric Shaw is a strong individual and he will make a fine specimen." Lorenor heard Eric Shaw groaning in pain as the N'Jal Protocol finished the final preparations. A few moments later, and Eric Shaw was now one of the Forsaken. Eric Shaw stood up as Lorenor talked with the prophet. "I see what you see now, and know what you know." A pool of blood lay at Eric's feet that was from self-inflicted injuries. Eric's regeneration process had settled in as his body adjusted to the change.

"Good Eric. You can more adequately help Lorenor and our cause." Nenkulor said calmly. "Lorenor I need to speak with you about a matter." The prophet began. "I see a certain line of prophecy being created as a new timeline emerges." The mutant turned towards Nenkulor for a moment, and Eric Shaw paid attention to the prophet as well. Eric Shaw kept looking around at things as he was adjusting to his newly discovered sensory array. "You will go the Academy in Radasanth, and there, you will join Eric Shaw and his comrades in learning the ways of the sword." Then Nenkulor's face became dark. "When the chosen hour has arrived, there shall come a time when a force from the past, will threaten the balance of the future. Many lives will be extinguished when the Followers will be challenged by this threat from the past." Nenkulor's eyes were pale and glowing white as he used the gifts of the Seer. "Lorenor. You will have a choice. You will either be defeated by the thing that will come, or you will rise and face what must be." And the mutant nodded. "I am not afraid." He said calmly.

"Good because you will need all your bravery against this new enemy."

"What is the name and face of my enemy?" Lorenor asked, with growing concern.

"You will know at the chosen hour. But he is a face from the past. I see that this face is connected to another face. A face that is quite intimately connected to you and your destiny."

"Very well. Can you tell me more during this reading?" The mutant asked, eager for more information.

"The vision has passed Lord Lorenor. I am afraid, for now, that is all that I know for certain." The prophet concluded the reading. "I must part for now. The time will come when I too am ready to become a Spider Magi."

"Nenkulor. Good tidings." Lorenor said sincerely. "And to you as well mi'lord." After that, Nenkulor parted from the room leaving Lorenor alone with Eric Shaw.

***

"We need to get to Radasanth, and fast!" Eric said. He'd apparently developed a rather bossy attitude in his newly discovered transformation. The N'Jal Protocol imbued the host with both gifts and maladies. For every benefit there came a curse. They now stood in the downstairs section in the house, approximately a day later. Lorenor stood with his arms folded across his chest as he watched the scene unfolding. Eric Shaw had adjusted to the role of the Forsaken rather adequately enough, but there seemed to be something wrong. Eric's sanity was not where it used to be, and apparently, his mind had grown awry at the transformation from human to undead. Lorenor sighed at that thought knowing it would take adequate time and training for Eric Shaw to fully control his destiny and become a servant of the N'Jal Protocol. The dark skinned men from Keribas understood Eric Shaw's need for haste. "Relax mon. Mon knows that we be ready for such a predicament." The head of the group said. The others had gone by this time and only the head merchant remained. The strong scent of cannibus still filled the room. "I can prepare the mojo for you within the hour mon. Don't go no faster than that."

***

And so, Lorenor, Eric Shaw, and a few others were teleported from the merchant's shopping district right towards Radasanth. The trip was not a straight line, but rather a series of jumps from one location to another as they were transported from one place to the next. Lorenor and company re-appeared a few yards (roughly) from the front-gates of Radasanth. The company of would-be cadets, and Eric Shaw, walked forward after getting over some initial disorientation and vertigo. There was a blinding flash of light where the men appeared and nearby travelers looked on the event with a start, as the men appeared within the teleportation gate. Stepping off the gate, the adventurers walked towards Radasanth proper. The monolith structure of the citadel overlooked the entire city and was visible even from their location. Eric Shaw was dressed in a full black attire, with a hood that covered his head completely. Eric Shaw was worried about how some of his colleagues would take to the recent transformation. With the initial meeting set up in a tavern called Ye Old Harbour Inn, as per Nenkulor's requests, the small company of about eight fellows made their way there.

Soon, they arrived at the Inn. Lorenor saw that there was a chic crowd located in the inn, many discussing trivial matters about art and performances. This was the middle-class of Radasanth, a theater going bunch, museum traversing, culture obsessed crowd. Lorenor's party was stopped by a waitress as they entered. "Table for eight?" She asked with a deep accent from the sprawl, which was a poorer district in Radasanth. A ghetto, if one would. The mutant nodded, taking the mantle of leadership and making decisions where Eric Shaw should. Lorenor was rapidly growing comfortable with the mantle now placed on squarely on his shoulders. He was ushered to a table, coincidentally nearby to Duffy's position, and was seated relatively quickly. Eric Shaw stood up a moment later and walked towards a table that seated several fellows of the Corone Armed Forces. These were Knights and not cadets. Eric Shaw spoke to them for a time whilst Lorenor looked at his fellow cadets. "So what will it be gentlemen? My treat." The mutant said calmly.

[Duffy]

A hunter oft spent days searching his prey, endlessly tracking his quarry through mire, forest, mountain range and moonlight grove. That was the nature of hunter and the hunted, a metaphor for the stage as well as all manners of events in life. So when the hunter’s prey sat next to the hunter, and offered to buy his strange accomplices a drink, it was only natural for Duffy’s face to express a bewildering mix of bemusement, confusion, good fortune and fear. It wasn’t supposed to be this easy…

His dreams had shown him a man who could help him end Lucian’s tyranny, help him free the Tantalum from their master’s cold grip once and for all. The shadows had congealed over his face at first, only becoming apparent the deeper Duffy’s understanding of the semantics became. This man had an aura, a translucent glaze that perverted reality, even Duffy could see that; he didn’t need any magic or trickery or enchantment to see there was little ‘true’ good in him. Had his dreams lied? “Bu- but…you-’re-” he jabbed a finger and retracted it several times in a cycle, unsure of wherever or not he should approach.

Seated as he was on a small table for two in the inn he didn’t particularly stand out, he had no large ensemble like the dream man had. He couldn’t continue in polite conversation and hide his blemishes and atonement, he just stared - daggers flew quicker than even an elf could throw them, intermittently pausing for their thrower to glut from the tin gallon jar he consumed his ‘whine’ from. It was called whine due to the great lengths of whining it’s drinkers went through about the quality of said wine.

How can he help me?

He looks as dark and dangerous as Lucian...

As sorrowed and menacing...

As hateful and vengeaful...

As unwilling to accept the truth as any man who's lived in this world...

Thousands of similar doubts spun in Duffy's confused and fatigued mind, accompanied by heavy drum beats and a whining melody that came from his heart and hurting head respectively. He didn't even know what to do when he found the man, simply that he had to travel to Radasanth and meet with him. He couldn't see any obvious magic, or legendary weapon of doom, so it couldn't be so straight forward as a battle between the Shadow of Lucian and the supposed saviour that sat before him...

It wouldn’t take a genius to catch the boy's curiosity, to see him watching the group of men take their seats and watch further still as they discussed their order. As tired as Duffy was, he could not simply let a chance so fortunate as this, a chance that had lead Destiny to his very door slip him by. Ironically, he, of all people, could not find the right words to go about it.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

After the business transactions were taken care of, the mutant was surprised to see the fact that the Knights of Dawn accepted Eric Shaw as he was. It seemed that Eric Shaw was telling the truth. The Knights of Dawn had changed from the schism of the old order to the priorities of the new order. In order for the organization to survive, the Knights of Dawn had to adapt its basic principles as an organization that followed the will of the Thayne. A balance was needed. And thus, to change in accordance with the times, N'Jal was accepted as a viable Thayne to obey from the ground up. The Knights of Dawn publicly made amends for its crimes against N'Jal and continued to move forward as an organization. Now the Knights refined their role as protectors of the peace and began their agenda to hunt down greater enemies. Once the word of N'Jal was revealed, the Knights of Dawn could better understand that Thayne. Several of the Knights looked in Lorenor's general direction. He recognized one or two of the Knights from times that he'd been abducted by them.

The mutant was seated with his fellow cadets in a table alongside the Knights. Ironically close by to the Duffy's position. Lorenor ordered some cola pop to drink. The others ordered varying degrees of alcoholic substances, juices, and one guy ordered milk. The mutant was not particularly hungry, so he would only order something to munch on.

Noting that the others were ordering full dishes, the mutant sighed at that. He was not particularly used to socialization on any level. It was a skill that would come in due time. Lorenor had never had any need for mass socialization until joining the Corone Armed Forces. He realized that his life would change from that moment forward. Lorenor placed an order for a stew of some sort, and some meat strips.

Lorenor liked his human-food well cooked. It was an acquired taste, especially with spices and other flavorings added. Lorenor sat back and waited for the order's placement. As he waited, he kept staring at Duffy's general direction. Moving his eyes back upon the table, the pull felt particularly strong at that point. A part of him wanted to go converse with the lad, but the other part decided that he needed to wait with his fellows. For now at least, or until Duffy did something, he would wait and allow patience to be the order of the day.

His drink and meal arrived...

[Duffy]

The furtive glances the man shot Duffy only aided the decision making process. Picking up his drink, and depositing his pack and loose possessions, the thief made his way over to Lorenor’s side and curiously coughed as way of interjecting his arrival. From somewhere, he plucked up the etiquette to do so at an appropriate break in the conversation.

“Excuse me, sir,” he ruffled his hair and tapped his lips with one elbow resting on his supporting hand, a pose adapted for the stage from every furtive thinking mother and librarian the universe over. “I could not help but notice a familiar sense of…of knowing you from somewhere,” which makes me seem and sound utterly mad, but still. “’Ave we met, in this life or thereafter? It’s curious,” maddening “to think of you as so supremely in my mind but I’m at a loss for finding a name.”

A waitress, as buxom as she was sarcastic deposited a plate in front of the apparition of Duffy’s hopes and dreams, and saddled away with a wink and a wobble of her voluptuous- if not cavernous behind. The food didn’t look that appetising, he didn’t expect any different. Here there and everywhere the Old Harbour Inn was a name you knew for quantity, not quality. Rum helped to settle the score and the stomach, which was apparently how the pirate and nautical theme had emerged. The cup was gauged the last of it’s ale, allowing Duffy to casually tag on to the end of his question - “Might I buy you a drink to ease your memory?” He brought the tankard up and jiggled it tantalisingly.

On the bar behind the waitress had sprung into a rendition of Yo Momma Hoe, seemingly not phased about having to do so. How easily they’d perverted one of his favourite childhood songs Duffy thought to himself, waiting for a response and a brief pause to recover from the nerves he’d inflicted upon himself approaching the man first. He would watch Lorenor from the bar, see his reactions, see him warrant a response. Their eyes had met once, him looking at the ghoul, the ghoul looking at he. They’d split crossings quickly, like two ironic lovers, but not said anything. There wasn’t a role for that, a character to portray to satisfy one’s social dysfunction - he had to go it alone, unrehearsed, even improvised! He shuddered.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Pausing for the briefest of moments, colleagues discussed matters at the tables near to his position and further away. It was a dark atmosphere in the tavern, smoke filled the air, the smell of ale and various exotic foods were almost oppressive. Lorenor was eating a healthy dish of gray bear meats with a white rice grain, and plenty of pepper. Lorenor liked spices on his food, it made the experience much more entertaining to the mutant. He didn't have to eat his food cooked, for he preferred the thrill of the hunt, red-hot blood always tasted better to the mutant. However, as a ghoul, he could tolerate cooked food.

The more extravagant the chef's style, the easier the food could be digested. As Lorenor ate and drank, a soda-pop like substance that was popular with Radasanth's youth, a stranger approached. The same lad he'd been staring at for a while now came to him. Astonished by the new development, Lorenor stared at Duffy for a brief moment and then remembered his manners. As the man was preparing to leave to another destination.

"I don't seem to recall if we've ever met..." Lorenor called out. He hoped the man could hear him over the crowd. As he waited there something happened and his mind cleared.



Liquid memory filled the mutant's mind. As he sat there his hand went to his forehead. He felt a wave pass over his body. The wave was the liquid oppressive force of the past. A past that was not entirely his own to command at will. As he saw the past, he saw someone that strangely looked liked him walking towards a building. In front of the building was a sign labeled the Tantalum. Lorenor looked at the sign for a moment as he walked in. There was a large crowd gathered in front of a stage and a troupe of actors on stage performing. One of the particular men seemed connected to Duffy somehow.

With that memory, the images quickly faded and the mutant found himself looking at Duffy again.



He called for Duffy, something about the chance encounter didn't seem like a coincidence. There was a pull there. N'Jal screamed to Lorenor to act on behalf of the dark lady. He did so. "Hey! If you still want to treat that drink, I'm game for it sir." Lorenor said politely, he was still a newly recruited cadet at the academy and he was expected to behave a certain way after all.

Lorenor waited for the man.

[Duffy]

The song of thrifty heroes and even thriftier villains echoed in Duffy’s head. Hollow nights and orchestral arrangements spiralling like euphoric ecstasy. The Aria turned from a heightened melody to a sweeping scene setter, flourishes of strings and heavy clashes of rhythm; this was it. This was time, this was the answer…

“It would be an honour,” he nodded and turned back to the bar, “round of the same for the table of military looking rabble me hearty. Some Pedigree for me too.” The waitress, now finished with her dance returned to her duties and gave Duffy the once over with a curious look of disinterest. Nodding with her breasts and not her head she went away to tend to his request, whistling politely to herself as if to say she didn’t want to be disturbed. It was the usual level of custom, regardless of the city the Old Harbour Inn appeared in, he didn’t expect much else, even the smell of faintly distressed leather and salt was pitch perfect in his nostrils. It was almost as if they’d simply moved the tavern with him.

Crossing fates with another was certainly an interesting experience. Something like this only ever happened to the people the Tantalum brought to life in song and dance, it didn’t happen to normal folk, it certainly didn’t happen to Duffy. All he ever endured, beyond chastity and ignorance, was a constant and steady level of neuralgia and stress relating to the inadequacy of their new actors. It was always he that saved the day, always Ruby that darned the socks, always Lilith that cooked and cleaned and sang her way out of obscurity; for once, it would be nice to be given the answer from an outside source.

The dream man…the shadow king, the obscure prophet of an unknown solution… Words spun in the thief’s mind, driven ever the more deranged by the utter tiredness that plastered itself to his bones and muscles. Tact was hard to maintain when alert and awake, never mind after you’d walked on foot from Underwood, and further still, from Scara Brae. The waitress returned with a full tray and slide it onto the bar which looked like it had once been well kept mahogany. You could trace it’s age by the rings, but they weren’t in the wood; they were stains, blood marks, sweat and tears… “Thank you,” Duffy chimed, taking the tray and exchanging it for a small collection of coins. He knew the pricelist off by hand, he doubted it could get any higher. It was a comforting thought, at least he knew one thing about Radasanth beyond it’s fetid rancour.

“So,” he began, returning to Lorenor’s side to place the tray of drinks down on the table. He left the sorting out of ownership to each of the men in turn, staying out of the petty squabble which kicked in all too eagerly. “My name is Tantalum, amongst other things but Tantalum will do for first occurrences.” He held out his hand, cordially removing the glove of the Tinder Gear as he did so. In his other, he made a motion to toast their good fortune.

The Aria (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HFytzNhPsoM) grew brighter, louder, stronger as his hand moved forwards. Tantalus spoke, and all seemed right.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Once Lorenor saw the man moved in closer within his sensory array, and he focused much more clearly upon the man, he'd realized that his initial assessment of the situation at hand was right. The man gave off quite the interesting nimbus cloud. It flowed about an inch or two off his skin, tainting the air around it with his raw energy. As for colour? The mutant couldn't exactly discern a colour at this stage in his development, but he could definitely tell that a nimbus cloud was there. Normally, Lorenor would be paying attention to the way the fellow cadets oogled over the buxom ladies of this particular establishment. However, Lorenor was currently more concerned about his own rise through the ranks of the Corone Armed Forces.

Seeing his companion at a close-up range, the mutant noticed subtleties that any other would notice. For the first, there was a thick Scara Brae accent. He took a note of the detail and thought that perhaps this man had spent some considerable amounts of time in that region.

When the drinks and food were finally served, the mutant filled his goblet with a drink. He was surprisingly hungry and thirsty, anxiety finding its ugly way into his gut. He was anxious to fulfill his new role as a member of the Corone Armed Forces. Taking the goblet to his lips after saluting quickly with the man. He quickly respected the man's generosity. Here was a fellow ready to shower folk with kindness. As a devil of greed, people buying him things was one way certainly into his heart. The mutant noticeably wore a broad grin on his distorted face. Darkness seemed to hide most of the features, and only the visible glowing light of his soul shown through his eye sockets.

"Hail! Friend, Tantalum!"

Lorenor proclaimed the bold statement unbeknown to them all, the drink was sealing their fate. Taking a long pull of the drink he had before him, Lorenor saw the pitchers that were upon the table awaiting with refills as per their orders. Having not eaten much, the mutant was glad to have company other than the rest of the cadets. Eric Shaw had not yet returned from his talk with the rest of his fellows. From what Lorenor could tell they were clearly discussing some matter of significance to the Corone Armed Forces.

After the proclamation, the mutant indeed shook the man's hand. It was a strong grip, but none-too-forceful. Instead, it had a rather forced politeness about it, as if it belonged to someone well lectured in the ways of social stigma. Despite that, it seemed clear that the mutant was enjoying Tantalum's presence. He could have sworn he heard a slightly different music in the air than the one that chic jazz band was playing... "Is there any matter in particular you wish to discuss?" Lorenor asked hoping there was some business matter that Tantalum had for him.

[Duffy]

"Is there any matter in particular you wish to discuss?"* Lorenor's words rung in the air, gleaming spectacles of heaven. The golden words were precisely what the young scamp wanted hear. The relief distilling from his constant butterfly stomach could be heard high up in the stratosphere.

“Actually, I do believe that you can. Or at least, given all that has transpired these past few days, I hope you can.” He sat down on a stool and examined the others who were sat with the dream man, seemingly engaged in the age old past time of ‘drinkin’ and a fightin’ talk.’ A more naive person would mistake them for mere soldiers, but Duffy thought higher of them than that. “This might sound spurious, ridiculous, constantly mad, but I have been having dreams about…” he thought carefully, “you-” he thought harder still, “or at least the idea of you. I do not know how to explain it, but I have a problem, an issue, a thing to tackle head on, and my dreams and thoughts and the song that sings in my head as prophet and guidance have all lead me…

To you…” He let the last hint hang delicately in the air like a phenomenon gone awry, whispering it almost. Even though he tried, he could not contain his accent tone for long, he became ever more comfortable and comfort meant home. it also meant stuttering words and bad form, but he didn't think that mattered, this was hardly The Globe...

Watching Lorenor’s movements, and examining his skin, his clothing…his demeanour, ‘Tantalum’ began to doubt his own doubts, a cycle of deepening uncertainty that grew and grew. If these men who’d gathered with him were truly in the army, or some other ragtag group of swordsmen, what chance would there be for the man to come all the way to Scara Brae to trifle with the trinkets of gods and monsters? Duffy repeated a simple confidence mantra under his breath over and over, he will come, he will come, he will come.

A bright note shined in the invisible arrangements in his mind. Although the Aria was singing as loud as it ever did, he couldn’t help but feel lost in the perception of the real and the heard. Tantalus was not a god who dealt you all the cards, he’d given Duffy the ace, the dream, the lead to here, but he had to find the second on his own.

“I ask of ya' ability to fight, and to ask if you can trule' 'elp me, as my instincts, dreams and aspirations tell me you are the only one to 'elp - I suppose in that truth there will be some bargaining of assets, some mutual exchange of symphonies deeds; nothing is free, and I do not expect to gain your aid for no good deeds go unturned…” he took a swig from his tankard, and enjoyed what little enjoyment there was to be had from the watered down malt. It was less Pedigree, more poodle. Ironically, the tales of Lysander were growing ever more real and vibrant. The blade singer had dabbled with the Shadow King in a tavern just like this, gaining his aid and servitude through song and a good game of poker. It was a shame he didn’t have any cards…

He sat and waited, smiling, for the man’s returns.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Returns did arrive, after a momentary pause. The mutant listened with great intent to what the fellow was saying. Though he was still a cadet by the standards of the Corone Armed Forces, Lorenor knew that he had his own reputation as an adventurer to uphold. He listened in silence, occasionally touching his chin as the man spoke. What is this? This man has a job for me? Lorenor immediately thought to himself, then remembered a simple thing. He had not yet introduced himself.

"My, my. I'm forgetting my manners. The name's Lorenor." His face beamed. It was a mysterious matter. "Perhaps you know of me?" Having the desire to ask to see if his reputation proceeded him. The mutant managed to obtain a certain level of fame thanks to his covert activities with the Red Hand. Before they were dismantled. He took a pull of his drink. Savoring the flavor, Lorenor continued the conversation with Tantalum.

"My ability to fight?" Lorenor turned to look at his companions who all wore the cadet's uniform of the Corone Armed Forces. Then he turned to look in the general direction of Eric Shaw and his comrades who were still discussing matters in secret. Then, he returned a casual stare back to Tantalum. "Well now, Tantalum. That's definitely a good question right there." His own inquisitive gaze locked with the man's eyes. "By my own assessment, I would say that I'm fair with the sword. Even fairer without the sword. But that would be a matter to witness with your own eyes. Some say I have been able to fell some pretty powerful opponents, but I've called it sheer luck and not so much a matter of skill." Here was a man who was very honest, and was not boisterous about his own skill in anyway what so ever. He knew the limitations of his skill level, what he was capable of, and what he wasn't capable of. Ask Lorenor to fell a dragon, and he would attempt it to the best of his capacity. Ask Lorenor to fell a Priest, well that would be a different story all together.

He was clever, not stupid.

Turning his gaze back to the table, the mutant wrapped his knuckles against the top of the table for seemingly no particular reason. He kept his eyes on the table, but he did not need them to see Tantalum. "What sort of a business proposal do you have? Keep in mind I start at the Military Academy fairly soon Tantalum. I will have a busy schedule after that."

[Duffy]

Music to Duffy’s ears cascaded from the man’s somewhat auspicious mouth. He heard all that he had hoped to hear, and allowed for some arrogance and bombastic pronunciation, leaving him comfortable still with his dream’s direction. Lorenor, as he called himself seemed to be a perfect ally to gain the aid of for the upcoming battle he knew he could not avoid. Fortunate as he might have been for knowing his Fate before it unravelled, Duffy couldn’t help but wonder what it had in store for him that he couldn’t see.

“Business matter? Yes, I suppose you could say that. I’ve more a request which will no doubt turn into mutual compromise. I seek martial aid with an enemy I cannot defeat on my own, and for some strange reason I have yet to decipher, my dreams have lead me here, and ultimately, to you. Such a battle will not come soon, but it will come, and I would seek such an ally as yourself to be called upon in the future to fulfil their half of any bargains we make.” He thought for a moment, considering the messy grammar and complicated parables he was mumbling. The tiredness was slowly easing, thanks in no small part to the waitresses entertainment and the watered down lubricant.

“I don’t know what else to say, what could I do to gain your trust and hand in the task at hand?” He swallowed a glug of the ale and pursed his lips, savouring the malt but using the distraction to mull things over. Let the wit poker begin, he thought.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

From time to time, the mutant would take a drink of the substance in his goblet. Savoring the texture of the drink, Lorenor let it sit in his stomach for a few moments. He had never acquired a taste for ale or liquors, but the mutant had a whistle for juices, pop, milk, and other liquid-treats. Lorenor let the flavor of the drink reside in his mouth for a long moment before going towards the meats and the rest of the meal at hand. The others were busily conversing amongst themselves. Lorenor did not interfere with their business as long as they did not interfere with his own.

A few moments later, Eric Shaw returned with a look of confidence and determination on his face. Lorenor saw that the captain went to sit down next to him after carefully moving the chair with his foot. The ease of manipulation struck the mutant as his friend adapted to his new role as one of the Forsaken.

Lorenor turned towards Eric Shaw for a brief moment, pondered saying something, but thought against it. He returned his attention to Tantalum after that moment elapsed. Slowly, the mutant consumed some of the meats that were on his plate and chewed very casually. He liked the flavor and spices of the meats he was eating deciding that the waitress had earned a tip for the meal.

Once it was time to speak again, the mutant began. "You speak very vaguely my friend." Lorenor said casually, as he took a deep pull of the juice. "However, your offer is most intriguing. I typically tend to jump at any chance to prove myself." Lorenor said honestly. Though he was a villain by most people's standards, he was not without his code of honor. The mutant continued to speak as he slowly ate his food. "Incidentally, this will sounds like it will be a good chance to test my skills. The opportunity to face a new enemy is reward enough. I've been looking for a new challenge of late." Lorenor said hinting at part of a greater scheme.

"However. Know this, the Corone Armed Forces comes first. I can act independently as long as my actions do not endanger any of my fellows."

"What else are you offering besides a battle?" The mutant had to ask. He was also a businessman at heart and wanted to know what was his reward for remaining a loyal client.

[Duffy]

The long winds of the southern plains, those are my homelands. I am a stranger in yours, a hospitalised saint without due accord or notion of procedure. I come seeking aid, in the form of tantamount frivolities - I am told you are the one to gift such boons on the worthy.


Lysander's Quest in the Deserts of Salvar


---

With a great deal of curiosity and attention Duffy paid heed to Lorenor’s words and sacrificed any notion of sleep for the cause. If the dreams that had guided him all this way wished for the young man to keep awake for just that little bit longer, then he would do so, even if it meant sticking a fork into his thigh to prang his eyes open. Betwixt the little slips into semi-conscious thought the thief considered what exactly he could offer this strange and wondrous warrior for his services.

No gold did he posses, no property, asides that he required to live in himself. He was not a conjurer of cheap cantrips or lofty height spells, so no magic could be preferred in exchange for the clashing of swords. Sex? No…just, Duffy shuddered, no… All of these lacings left him with one ace up his sleeve to deal into the hand he had to win over this man, one ribbon in his hair to sweeten the deal with this thing, this soldier from a distant land.

“Now, I-” Duffy began to speak but came across aloof and contemplative, interspersing each word or point with an ‘um’ or an ‘ah.’ “I ask for yo’ aid in defeating an opponent stronger than most, perhaps stronger than you. In return I will offer ya gold, fame, and an artefact known as the Orb of Attainment. I have used it me’ self, for it is an ancient device which has one boon for each of it’s owners, before it becomes nothing more than fragments of crystal.”

He of course had no intention of keeping such promises, given that he hadn’t acquired the orb yet, and it was Ruby’s to claim if the plan went as planned. Lorenor did not know this, Duffy only hoped psionic gifts were not part of t he man’s fighting abilities. It would not be any trouble for him to feign the delivery of such a promised treasure, but he thought better of himself to deceived Lorenor. He would reward him, and well at that, but with something gained in the interim period between now, and the time when Lucian would rise.

“I ask not for ya aid now, but later. If I can be of service to your military pursuits in the meantime, as a way of pledgin’ mesen to ya, to develop trust, then so be it. My daggers and my song and my rancour are yours and-” he waved his finger amongst the ghoul’s comrades “it belongs to these gentlemen too.” He lugged the last of his second beer, and giggled mentally, the sort of semi-euphoric realisation that a man was well on his way down the slippery slope of the drunkard. “I guess what I be sayin’ is this, what I offer beyond trinkets, is the notes and thrusts of me, the Tantalum, Duffy Bracken!”

He held out his hand to the man for what appeared to be the thirteenth time, hoping it would offer a seal of approval for their verbal agreement. He was going places now after all, it helped to keep track of what and why you’d promised people things.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

He did not know why at the time, but Lorenor immediately like the drunkard fellow in front of him. Owning a perhaps jovial nature, the mutant had not talked to someone that friendly in what seemed like ages. Responding with a chuckle of his own, the mutant's face lit up with a one-sided grin. He observed Duffy's actions very carefully and then shook the man's hand one more time.

"Your bladed is well-intentioned I'm sure." Lorenor said calmly. He took a sip of his own drink, never liking the drunkard state that ale imbued. "My company and I are heading over to a fort. Perhaps you should join us for a bit of sparring?" Lorenor added. "I'd like to help you refine your swordmanship."

"If your battle with your enemy is coming, then it helps to be prepared for all eventualities. Even one's own death." Lorenor said with a strange sort of expression on his face.

Lorenor ate calmly. "Have you paid for your meal and drink yet? I could treat you for you seem like an interesting man Duffy." The mutant considered the situation carefully. One of the nearby cadets was over hearing the conversation and turned to look at Lorenor calmly.

"He's gonna be joining the outfit?" The cadet asked.

"I don't know about that. We'd have to ask one of our ranking officers. Also, we'd have to ask Duffy what he wants to do. There are always openings in the Corone Armed Forces." Lorenor turned to face Duffy. "I am sure there probably isn't much you could offer me. But I have something I can offer you. You need blades for a battle you will have pretty soon right? How about the blades of the Corone Armed Forces? I am sure I can convince some of my fellows to assist you with whatever battle you're going to have." Taking a few bites of his dish and sipping some more juice, the mutant thought carefully for a moment. The negotiation was becoming terribly one sided. However, the mutant was now a member of the Corone Armed Forces. He would have to behave a certain way and adapt to his new role. "If you wish to refine your skills with the blade, this would be a good opportunity. I will be starting my training as well. We could train together." Lorenor said calmly, his eyes thoughtful as he spoke and laid it on the table.

As a businessman, the mutant always wanted to make as much profit as possible. He foresaw the friendship with Duffy as being worthwhile. N'Jal had no negative comments about the situation at hand. In fact, N'Jal was quite calm and quiet during the negotiation process. N'Jal mostly interfered when danger was afoot. In this tavern of the Corone Armed Forces, they were far away from danger.

"What do you say Duffy? If you join with us, you'll have a better chance at survival against your enemy." Lorenor said calmly.

Lorenor turned his attention to Eric Shaw for a moment.

"So what is the situation Eric?" Lorenor asked.

Lorenor heard Eric's response a moment later.

"You are officially a Cadet of the Corone Armed Forces. You are stationed to Fort number 9. It is near Radasanth." Eric Shaw said calmly.

The mutant nodded in response. "Excellent. What rank am I?"

"You are a Cadet." Eric responded. "But don't worry you will make Private First Class in no time. And eventually, you will become a Knight First Class. Maybe even a General."

Lorenor listened to the compliment from Eric. The mutant carefully considered the situation. Then, he turned to look at Duffy for a long moment. Taking a deep pull from his drink, Lorenor studied Duffy's face considering all of its features. Duffy was a handsome man. The mutant found him attractive, that was for sure. He also had a way with words which could prove a powerful asset. The Corone Armed Forces needed to win over the populace as the arm of the Empire. So far, the Corone Rangers were winning the public relations campaign. The Empire had allowed this to go unchallenged for far too long. Lorenor knew that the times were changing.

He waited to hear what Duffy would say. Then he added one more thing. "If you join with the Corone Armed Forces I can assist you better."

[Duffy]

The offer on the table seemed perfectly simple, perfectly understandable. What concerned Duffy, was not the complexities of trade, but the current amount of heads Lorenor had. Surely, he wasn’t a hydra, and there were certainly no five headed elves in any fable he’d told.

“-S-goop…s-gud, sounds good to me,” he stumbled his words, happy and content that the encumbering warmth of the alcohol was easing his travel woes and aching feet. The world is my cloister. He thought to himself for a moment as the ghoul turned to talk amongst his companions…No…oyster? Yes…yes-yes, Oyster… “The mention of sparring is getting’ me hyped, all jubbly like. I will help you, scratch your back if you scratch mine, I reckon that’s an apt wotsit, comparison?” The orisons of The Aria at the back of Duffy’s mind sounded deep, resounding and faded, like music heard through hollow walls. Happy as he was, he was dangerously coming close to not knowing what it was he was saying.

"I am sure there probably isn't much you could offer me. But I have something I can offer you. You need blades for a battle you will have pretty soon right? How about the blades of the Corone Armed Forces? I am sure I can convince some of my fellows to assist you with whatever battle you're going to have."

“I’ll,” he made to stand up, wobbling slightly and balancing himself with a hand on the edge of the table, “I’ll be ready at sun’s rose, bright tailed and bushy eyed.” In the commotion and the excitement of finally having found his man, Duffy didn’t notice his obvious faux pau, his spoonerism. “So I’ll settle myself up and bid you all g’night!” He referred to Lorenor’s offer, but refused it on grounds of humility. Duffy might not have much to offer to the man, but he could certainly show him kind in the other little ways in polite society.

With a kick to his step and his backpack plucked up and deposited back on his shoulder with a rattle of pans and candles, the young thief plodded to the bar, threw some coins at the busty barmaid of clichéd establishments and waddled up the stairs to whatever hammock awaited him. He didn’t know it was a hammock, but what else could it be? Yo ho ho thud. He fell out cold only moments into his room, the door swinging shut with a click.

The Aria sang him a lullaby, a soothing tale of the sun of the dawn. Duffy’s dreams told him of vomiting, headaches and dancing. What tomorrow would bring, neither the gods nor monsters could say, but he would welcome it all the same.


Permission to bunny Duffy downstairs in the morning or to a meeting point of your chosing, let's move this on to the next scene.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Watching the man leave for a long moment, Lorenor returned his attention to Eric Shaw. With the plans underway for a brighter future, the mutant concentrated on eating the rest of his dinner. It was still very warm and he didn't want it to get cold. Fork in one hand and knife in the other, the mutant attacked the meats he'd ordered for dinner. From time to time, he took a long pull of the drink in his goblet, refilling it from the pitcher when necessary.

As the hours rolled by, the Cadets were discussing various matters until they slowly became tired and were ready to call it a night. Many of them got up and went to rented rooms, whilst others, still, jabbered on about future prospects and plans. None of the gathered members of the Corone Armed Forces were rowdy at all. Many of them were well-disciplined soldiers often keeping to themselves. They spoke within their respective ranks.

Several tables had members of the Corone Armed Forces. Some of the units were actually high-ranking officers. Amongst these elite warriors was the particular unit that Eric Shaw spoke to sometime earlier. Everyone else in the eatery area was a mixed group of noble-folk, merchants, and tradesmen. Mostly, the inn was an establishment for higher classed citizenry.

In Corone, the mutant had not yet obtained a title of lordship. He'd obtained one in Salvar but not in Corone. Lorenor understood that the Corone Armed Forces represented the easiest chance for him to get such a title of lordship. As a cadet, Lorenor was entitled to certain privileges offered by the Corone Armed Forces. Life was going to change for the mutant, and rapidly.

Eating largely in silence, the mutant allowed his senses to wander from conversation to conversation. He picked up snippets of information that caught his interest, but for the most part, he paid little attention to the fellows in the eatery. At some point during the course of the night, Eric Shaw caught Lorenor's attention by placing a hand upon the mutant's shoulder.

"I've got tonight planned out for us." He said.

"You do?" Lorenor asked in response.

"Yes. We're going to do some basic training, and perhaps some sparring sessions at a local dojo." Eric Shaw said calmly. "I want to gauge your swordmanship as it stands at the moment."

"We'll eat then we can continue the training." Lorenor commented. "Its not good to fight on an empty stomach." He grinned as he said that last part.

"Agreed. So you're cleared. We head for the fort tomorrow morning, bright and early. I know you have a hindrance in the daylight hours, but its all right. We will travel with haste."

Listening to Eric Shaw speak, the mutant took a big mouthful of food. A moment later he washed it down with his drink. "Good. I want to get on with the education process soon enough. And that man...he said he had a job for me." Lorenor added speaking about the Duffy fellow.

"You must cast aside Lorenor the mercenary and become Lorenor the Soldier. Your life will change drastically from here on in."

"I've been in Salvar I know how to function within the confines of a Guild." Lorenor said in response. "I've managed to obtain lordship out there, but still lack a formal title here in Corone." Lorenor continued. "Largely, I've not been present for the Civil War." He pondered out loud. Then, he took a long pull of the drink in his goblet.

"Well the bulk of the Civil War is still to come. The battle is being waged on several fronts all over Corone. We can not rest until the traitorous Corone Rangers are put to justice. If not, they will throw out entire working class into a complete state of disarray. Largely, their public relations campaign has been a war to win the hearts of the general populace. We have the large majority of the nobility, but they have the lower class and much of the middle-class citizenry."

"Then we have to put a stop to their propaganda machine." Lorenor said coldly. "If we can smash those efforts with our own counter-strategies we will win the day. And the Empire will stand strong."

Lorenor vaguely saw Eric Shaw's grin at that response.

***

Standing in the training center, the mutant held a wooden sword in his hand. It felt somewhat uncomfortable in his experienced hands. The weight of the training bokken made the mutant want to break protocol and use his prevalida sword for the fight. However, he wanted to respect the wishes of his leaders. Several elite members of the Corone Armed Forces were looking at the battle. It was a room with several large training rings etched on the floor. Spars were taking place in the rings. Roughly fifteen different fights all together. When not on duty, the members of the Corone Armed Forces trained heavily. Monks of Ai'Bron were present to ensure that serious injuries were quickly taken care of. Keeping a neutral posture in the Civil War, the Monks provided assistance to both factions that fought in the Civil War only wanting to see a peaceful resolution to the War. Lorenor's opponent was a Knight of the Corone Armed Forces. The man was dressed in full training gear. A guard was present on the man's head, hands, and feet. He wore a combat uniform with a belt representing his rank of experience.

"All right, we are going to assess your current skill level. You wield some pretty impressive weapons, but can you really unlock the mastery of the blades you wield? We are here to take your swordplay to the next level. Where you will learn to center yourself and fight with a more refined combat skill, not so much of a randomized event." The man continued. "Your training will occur daily. You will learn the use of several weapon types."

"Assume combat stance." The man said.

Moving fluidly with his enhanced reflexes, the mutant moved into a combat position where his sword was centered from the middle of his body. His posture was relaxed and his arms had a general control of the bokken. The bokken was largely the same size as an average-sized iron katana. Lorenor's opponent kept his weapon in a low combat position. His training bokken was pointed in a forty-five degree angle to the ground. As an experienced duelist, he held the weapon with one hand. His other hand was free for extra attacks or other purposes. Lorenor noticed this immediately. They underestimate me. I must play along with this new role I have discovered. I will do everything I must to become a successful member of the Corone Armed Forces. I succeeded in the Assassin's Guild in Salvar, I can succeed here. Lorenor thought to himself as he kept his face expressionless. He had his lips tight, and wore a slight frown. His breathing was regular but not controlled. Lorenor had made no attempts to center himself before the fight seeing that it was not a necessary practice.

"Begin." His opponent said.

Lorenor approached his obviously superior opponent. The man gave off a sort of radiance that was visible to the mutant's eyes. A glow radiated from Lorenor's face that represented his energy-eyes. Lorenor covered the distance between himself and his opponent but kept a respectful distance away, at least one sword length. The man wore a stoic poker-face revealing no emotions immediately to the mutant's eyes. He was clearly in full concentration of the battle at hand. It was agreed that the mutant could not use any of his powers in the battle, only his skill with the sword. Lorenor kept the weight of his aegis bracer even with the rest of his posture. He held his weapon in a balanced fashion so that it was almost an extension of both of his arms. Lorenor could feel his dark energy flowing from his body as he breathed. Preparing his attack, the mutant pondered possible strategies quickly. He also pondered possible reactions that the man would make taking into account the next few seconds of the battle. Lorenor skillfully moved to strike towards the chest of the man...

Some hours later...

"You're distracted. Something is bothering you. You're not putting your full concentration on the moment."

"If I put my full concentration, I'll begin to use my powers. And we agreed that you don't want me to use my powers." Lorenor said with a slight snap. He didn't mean that and quickly apologize. "Forgive me I'm just a little bit tired, we've been at this for a while. Stalemate. Not that that's bad but I prefer some sort of a solution so I can gauge where my current skill level is."

Lorenor was being honest.

His opponent had assumed a two-handed combat position at some point during the length of the match. No winner was ever declared, they were both on equal grounds, equal footing. Both men stood there panting heavily as they looked upon one another.

"That is enough for tonight. Tomorrow night, when you reach the fort in Radasanth your real training will begin. There you will learn how to center yourself in battle." The trainer said calmly. "I look forward to hearing success in your endeavors Lorenor. You have strong potential to become one of the finest sword-masters Althanas has seen in many ages."

"And yet, I only wish to improve my knowledge of the blade." Lorenor responded with a smile. He put away his training bokken and shook the trainer's hand firmly. "Until next time my friend."

"May the Thayne grant you strength Lorenor."

***

When day-light broke, the soldiers gathered at the same inn from the previous day. Lorenor looked for Duffy who arrived on time. The mutant walked over to Duffy's person standing in front of the lad.

"I trust you slept well?" Lorenor asked. "We leave within the hour. I hope you've gathered all of your belongings and paid the establishment in full."

"If you need help making pay Duffy, I can assist, or one of my fellows can."

[Duffy]

"Thank you for t'kind offer Lorenor, but I already settled me' bill with 'Wincesca,' as she's apparently known. You've done more than enough considering giving me aid and giving me a chance to proove myself, you need offer n'more I assure you." Duffy smiled from beneath his bed hair, and tried to make his pack laden and lanky body worthy of the new company he was keeping.

It had been a long and restless and somewhat vomit laden night, but he was young, and hoped his body wouldn't desert him just yet. He had changed his travel worn clothes and was now clad in simple red wraps and a white shirt, accompanied with the Tinder Gear, katana and a long ankle length travel cloak made of Akashiman pack wool. He looked the part for travelling, even if he sincerely didn't want to do anything that went along with the word.

He had no idea what the future had in store for him, or what he was getting himself involved with, but he had to do it. It felt right. It felt wonderful. It made him feel responsible.

"Where are we headed, and more importantly, how are we headed? I've just done more walking than I care to remember, and let me be tellin' you, I've got blisters the size of bunions and bunions bigger than my eyes! I can't be doing walkin'!"

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Bunnies to get the scene going. All bunnies approved!

A short time later, the group started walking towards the Magi Tower in Jadet.

Eric Shaw stood directly in front of Lorenor who walked alongside Duffy. The rest of the group was organized into two neat rows. There was a large group of cadets moving underneath Eric Shaw's command. In deep conversation with Duffy, the mutant realized he had never actually been inside one of the Magi Towers. The largest off the towers stood at several yards in height, stretching for about twenty stories off the ground. The top part of the tower was built to look almost like the head of a blunt weapon. It strangely resembled a mace jutting up and out of the ground. Certain that there were underground section to each of the towers, the mutant counted at least six towers surrounding Jadet. They stood outside of walls of the port city, and took at least an hour of travel time to get to. The closest of the towers was the northernmost tower which contained a magi guild specializing in portal construction. Many doors connected to the realm of Phantaria were said to lurk within that particular magi tower. Stopping his conversation with Duffy for a moment, the mutant turned towards the source of the power he detected.

It was the magi tower.

Close to the structure now, the small hairs on their bodies began to rise as a terrible vibration coursed through the air. Magic was potent in the air as the archaic forces rippled through the air. The sources of magic originated from somewhere within the tower and could affect both the Firmanent and Antifirmanent.

As Lorenor easily switched his vision between peering into the Firmanent and then the Antifirmanent, he was able to observe the phenomenon at will. On the plane of the Antifirmanent, the mutant could observe magical elements that were brilliant colored. As streams of energy, they flowed towards the physical manifestation of the tower within the Antifirmanent. Specters and shades clung close to this stream of energy, making it a chaotic wellspring of untold power. Lorenor did not like the place at all. He cringed as though he'd been struck by a physical blow. Folding time and space to maintain an artificial gateway into Phantaria at all times, the mutant felt that the magi tower was a perversion of reality. He turned to look at Eric Shaw for a moment wanting to voice his opponent. Somehow, Eric Shaw understood what Lorenor was feeling by the mutant's strange facial expression and raised his hand to stop the mutant. Taken aback, Lorenor stopped himself from talking.

"Everything has its place Lorenor. We don't have to like it." Eric Shaw said casually and continued to walk in silence after that.

Lorenor shook his head, turning towards Duffy. Eric Shaw could not see what Lorenor could see.

"We're gonna use one of those dimensional gates to get to Radasanth quickly. It's somehow connected to Phantaria. I don't know how these things all work." Lorenor said to Duffy. "We'll travel quickly in what would normally take weeks of travel time between Jadet and Radasanth." He explained to Duffy.

Lorenor kept his eye on the realm of the Antifirmanent. Specters moved through out the streams of energy as if they were feeding off the energy somehow. It bothered Lorenor in more ways than he could possibly explain to his superior officer. Ignoring the Antifirmanent for now, the mutant turned his attention back to the Firmanent. The world was filled with energy that flowed from the tower. People worked on top of symbols that were etched on the ground, and there were several groups. Some of the magi were masters, whilst the others were apprentices. The mutant could hear some of the lectures of the magi masters, but the topics of conversation were beyond his intellectual capacity. Lorenor was basically a warrior and he did not understand the mystical arts. His arsenal was comprised of deadly artifacts that he'd acquired on this or that adventure. The entrance to the tower loomed ahead. Lorenor could see it, and the symbols and runes etched upon it. They glowed with various elemental energies meant to ward off negative energy that might disrupt the portals in the area.

Stopping his walk, the mutant felt a deep disturbance in the air. His stomach felt like it was turning in knots. He turned to look at Eric Shaw and protested once more.

"Can't we just ride horseback?" Lorenor asked.

Eric Stopped, and the entire unit stopped. "No this is for your own good, cadet. You must learn to follow orders. Do you have a problem?" Eric asked.

Lorenor thought very carefully about his response. "No sir, I don't have a problem."

"Then proceed forward as planned."


Feel free to bunny the scene going forward. You can add whatever you like to the scene. If you feel unsure about anything just contact me on AIM or whatever and we'll plan the scene out together. Thanks dude.

[Duffy]

Contemplating to his joyful little self as they walked, Duffy reached the conclusion that this was a grand and scaled ascent to something more worthwhile than resting on his laurels. The age old adage about the devil and idle thumbs perhaps started to mean something to the thief, who twiddled his digits as they slugged towards a looming and ancient tower, but it kept his mind occupied enough to stay his tongue. These men he’d become involved with were not the joking sort, but Lorenor, as he was now firmly known showed signs of shedding the military shackles, of speaking for himself.

“I ‘ave no horror about this ‘firminam-firma-portal thingy, no sir, if it saves us having to do much more walking than wot we’ve already done, let’s be avin’ away with it!” The gravel and cobblestones scrunched together into haphazard footprints behind each step, coming together with a faint limp to make a soundtrack to their journey’s beginning.

Tower of the Magi… Duffy whispered under a breath, glancing up in-between his thoughts to spy the top of the tower, the sunlight catching it like a radiant needle, pointing to heaven in heretical defiance of the gods. Magic. It scared Duffy, even knowing he had ‘talents’ of his own, and that Ruby amongst them was a sorceress, he did not like not knowing, not understanding the mechanics of things. The unexplainable made him feel powerless, urging him on to a curious drive for reconciliation…the how with the why.

His lungs deserting him under the weight of his pack and armaments, Duffy faltered for a moment. Slumping forwards and resting his hands on his knees like a hangman's post, he rasped and clambered for air with hoarse interjections and half-arsed attempts at shouting 'Stop!' The cadets started to pass him one by one, the repetitive thud thud of their uniform boots harmonious to Duffy's beating heart. Ugh he sighed, finally picking up a boost of strength to skip back up to his new master's side.

“I been wonderin’ Lorenor, you said - you could fight, and that I could - ‘elp…trainin’ with - all these…” he looked over his shoulder and sniffed, taking in the air and the sweat and the disgruntled looks with a slightly over indulgent sense of self satisfaction…a slight pause to catch his breath back hung in the atmosphere. "These ‘cadets’, seems like a waste of ya time, don’t it?” He was very careful to speak just loud enough for Eric to hear, but not the others. He had to learn more of what was to be expected of him, and for that, he had to ensure ‘the top dogs’ were understanding that he was nothing more than a kid with knives.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Never stopping their march towards the magi tower, the group simply walked eternally on. The tower got closer and closer drawing Lorenor's gut into a grinder. A terrible feeling kept creeping up his spine, but he wasn't certain what it was that the instinct was trying to tell him. N'Jal was quiet during the walk, as was the Endless since there was no immediate threat to his person. When Lorenor got closer to the tower, he was able to see the ancient eldritch symbols written upon the walls. It seemed like each carefully laid brick had a symbol etched in it that glowed with powers. Lorenor was no magus, he never understood what such symbols meant. Perhaps, he was just jealous of the powers that the magi could wield.

Lorenor's own talents were dependent on the artifacts in his possession.

Looking overhead, there was a beautiful morning sky. Lorenor still could not get used to the idea of walking about as a Daywalker. With his powers reduced by half, Lorenor would need secondary training and skills in order to survive in the daytime hours. He would need an edge, and that was the training that the Academy could offer him. Hearing Duffy's words, the mutant laughed.

"Duffy. I am not training these cadets. They are training me. Though I can fight, I am by far not an expert swordsman. I still need to learn quite a bit to become a master tactician at the craft." Lorenor said calmly. "Though I am no expert at swordplay, I am crafty with other talents. When the time comes, we will help you against your opponent. Worry not about these fellows, each one of these men and women are skilled enough for five normal warriors." Lorenor was not boasting either.

He knew the skill of the men and women of the Corone Armed Forces. Only a fool would make an enemy of the Corone Rangers, or at least someone with incredible talents. Lorenor understood what the facts and the odds were against them all. He kept his eyes on Duffy for a moment as he waited for the man to respond.

Eric Shaw never responded, but he walked over to someone that stood in front of the magi tower. The individual was a man, and he wore the robes that were commonly worn by magi.

Lorenor noticed the signal that Eric Shaw made with his hand. The entire troop paused. "Stop Duffy. We have to wait now." Lorenor said calmly and folded his arms across his chest. He stood in a relaxed position. Lorenor was a man of action, but he had learned patience. He could wait, he knew that the cadets could wait as well. He wondered if Duffy was capable of being so patient.

"Tell me about Lucian while we are here Duffy. What kind of a devil is he?"

With a cocked eyebrow, the mutant kept his ghoulish expression locked on the man's face. He wore a mask of general interest. Lorenor could eavesdrop on Eric Shaw if he so chose, but he decided not to. He didn't want to use his power against a friend. Staring at Duffy, the mutant concentrated on his fellows instead. With his mind wandering from place to place, Lorenor wondered what was the hold up now.

(Moving ahead)

Almost as soon as Duffy and Lorenor finished talking, Eric Shaw returned.

"Sorry for the hold up all." Eric said. "I needed to be sure that the teleportation device was ready for such large numbers. My superiors put in notice with the magi tower that we were going to be transported, but I wanted to follow proper channels." Eric added. "We are clear to proceed. Some of you have never teleported before and will feel a tremendous discomfort. This can't be helped. You simply have to use your soldier's training so far and suck it up. Once we arrive at the fort, your new lives will begin understood?" Eric Shaw looked at Lorenor for a long moment as if to say this means you too Lorenor.

The mutant simply nodded, as the rest of the cadets saluted.

***

Once inside the magi tower, they passed many chambers. The transportation chamber was located underground and the group had to march several flights below the earth. Inside the tower were many book cases and other organization oriented tools and containers. Many magi worked their rituals. Lorenor could feel their eyes upon his person as if to say get out of here you devil, you are not welcome. The mutant's feeling worsened when he entered the magi tower. In the tower, he could see the Antifirmanent as it flowed with a terrible power.

The power was apparent in the Firmanent as well. Mixed along with the groups of various magi of all types of different races were the shades of menfolk who had passed. Lorenor could see the shadow filled eye sockets of the shades as they looked at him with an accusing gaze. The mutant did not like this place of silent servitude at all. His hand went to his weapon's handle as he observed the area around him. The feeling in his gut made it seem as though knives were being used against his intestines to test their fortitude. It felt like billions of sharp pricks that made him want to puke.

On his face, he wore a mask of great discomfort.

"What's the problem Cadet Lorenor?" Eric Shaw asked.

"N-nothing is wrong sir." Lorenor lied blatantly. He was a terrible liar. "I'd rather not talk about it. I just want to get this over with."

"Fair enough." Eric said. "But if you feel sick, or worse, I'd rather that you ride to Radasanth."

"I can handle it." Lorenor responded. "The teleportation I'm not worried about it. It's what's in this damned tower that is affecting me."

And then they all saw it. On the floor of the teleportation chamber was a large symbol. It was etched upon the surface of the floor. Glowing with a light-blue hue, the mutant paused with a scowl on his face. He looked at Eric Shaw. "You did not tell me about...that." Lorenor said, he was furious. The mutant would have preferred a horseback trip to what he was about to go through.

"Sorry. Life is full of surprises." Eric Shaw said with a cocky grin. "Just learn to suck it up."

"It's not that simple." Lorenor responded. "I--" Lorenor's face became grim. "I'll pass if you order me to." The mutant said submitting to the moment, the pain he felt.

"You are ordered to pass, cadet. As are the rest of you."

The teleportation ring was located on the other side of the glowing symbol. The normal humans would not be bothered by the glowing energy. However, Lorenor was afraid of something. Something about the glowing energy made the mutant hold back. All eyes were on the mutant with his dark aura now. Some of the magi had supernatural senses to rival Lorenor's own senses and could tell what he was. Nothing more than a monster playing at being human.

In fact, one of the magi ignored Eric Shaw all together and walked over to the mutant's person.

There was a defiant expression on his face.

"What have we here. A monster aye? Two at that." The magi said as he looked at Eric. Eric shook his head. "Are we going to have a problem?"

[Duffy]

“Lucian?” Duffy felt nauseas; he had not considered the inquisitive nature of his so called saviour, of his ally. Paradoxically, he felt allured yet repulsed by Lorenor, entirely unsure as he was as to the man’s origins. Was he…dead? Alive? From another time and place? “Lucian was the First.”

“A thousand years ago, Tantalus, the Thayne of Scara Brae’s creative impulse, of the city’s vibrancy itself came to be. At the zenith of the city’s power, or at least, at one such zenith, he burst into the world in a smattering of songs, hymns and badly ironed pantaloons. The Tantalum Troupe is the remnants of the first worshippers of the Thayne, we have become his embodiment, his voice, his reason and his temple.”

“Lucian became the Tantalum, the Troupe Master, as I am today, five hundred years ago. But Tantalus feigned interest in one so arrogant and brash as Lucian became, he demanded the gods themselves pay him heed for the brilliance he possessed and the literary talent he exhumed from the minds of the dead poets of the world – even worlds beyond worlds. He defied the Thayne by putting on a play that mocked the gods, and Tantalus, as fickle as all the deities of the world, abandoned Lucian. The song in our heads, the lights fantastic they faded in his mind and he lost his connection to the spirit, he was castrated.”

Duffy ambled along in a brief silence, considering just how much to tell. In truth, he had only recently discovered Lucian was alive, and more recent still, how he had remained so for so long. “Lucian disappeared not long after, and we celebrate his passing, presumed dead, each year with a night called Lucian’s Call…but in recent years, ever since I arrived and took the mantle of Tantalum from Ruby, my dearest friend, he has returned, and the dreams came. Lucian cannot be allowed to live, and cannot be allowed to make his name known…when the time comes for the Tantalum to fight, and kill him, I will request your aid.”

What sort of devil is he? Duffy considered this intricately, casting his eye over the tower entrance as it loomed before them. “He is a wraith, bound to this plane only by his sheer malice and hatred for me, and for the Tantalum, and of course, for Tantalus. He has become six shadows, one for each of the sins he committed in rage at his excommunication. One for murder, one for jealousy, one for plagiarism, one for hatred, one for pity and one of course for the blasphemy and arrogance of thinking yourself better than all others. In order to defeat him, I am told, I must find five allies who embody the good aspects of the Bard, piety, song, humour, memory, improvisation and strength of determination, and each of those people must fight a single shadow of Lucian.”

The thief reminded himself of the book and the talk he’d had with Ruby, who did not yet know of Lucian’s transgressions, but understood the ancient tale that had brought Tantalus to life, for it was based on a play. These events were written long ago, in a tome lost to the sands of time, but one which prescribed the acts of life to everyone…he’d longed to find that book, and to read from Fate’s schism. “So it is a battle of overcoming one’s own weakness, and using their strength. I am one of the six, and I believe, from my dreams, that you are another. It may take years to find the remaining four, and years more before Lucian’s power allows him to break free and walk the earth, only then can we fight, in a cataclysmic battle through Scara Brae and beyond – we will be fighting for Tantalus, for the very act of singing and fabling itself. I only hope I’ve not scared you off! There is of course a reward for your aid, beyond heroic deeds, but that I will not discuss so openly, it will be between you and me.” He chuckled light heartedly. "But for such aid, you will gain my side for your journey ahead, my loyalty, too, for what it's worth!"

As they walked and talked, Duffy felt at ease, ignoring the conversation sporadically spread between his own points between the other man and Lorenor; the scenery of the mage’s tower was lost on Duffy, who had little interest in the architecture or machinations of the place; magic was for fools or for those who had to hide in weakness.

As they entered the final chamber, Duffy eyed the symbol on the ground eagerly. On the one hand, he didn’t have to walk, but on the other, Lorenor was approached by a ‘magi,’ and he watched the conversation turn sour quickly. The muttering of the word monster intrigued the thief greatly, he’d been too scared to ask, and decided to wait for Lorenor to reveal or deny such claims himself. Crossing his arms over his chest and embracing the leather and cotton to warm his aching bones, Tantalum smiled and tried to look inconspicuous.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Feeling tremendous power from the Magi that approached them, the mutant's hand went to his sword. He heard the threat that was concealed with the Magi's words. Lorenor felt his hand tighten around the grip of his weapon tightly, and he began to pull the weapon out of its scabbard. Oblivious to the archaic powers of the Arkanos arts, Lorenor could only guess at what sorts of power that this individual before them possessed. He knew that a direct battle with these Magi was probably out of the question. The mutant was previously listening to every bit of information Duffy could reveal about their chosen enemy.

Lorenor was definitely interested in the situation at hand, but the current situation called to face the Magi in front of them. The man was a blond haired man with brown eyes. He had a square jaw and was built with a slender physique. A tension filled the air as Lorenor saw the look that Eric Shaw gave to the Magus. Lorenor and the rest of these maggots were cadets, but Eric Shaw was a ranking Officer of the Imperial Army.

As a member of the Corone Armed Forces, Lorenor knew that they were all privy to certain privileges. Keeping his eyes on the blond man, Lorenor could also observe everything that Duffy and Eric Shaw did. Lorenor sensed a tension and a noticeable anger coming from his fellow Forsaken.

"Two monsters. We don't see your kind around these parts very often. You are a long way from Raiaera." The Magus said.

"We don't want any trouble." Eric Shaw responded. "I have proper clearance to use the teleportation device here." Eric said in a diplomatic sort of way.

"I know you do Eric. That doesn't mean we have to like it, or allow your friend here through." There was a crooked grin on the man's face.

Somehow, Lorenor wasn't ready to call the man's bluff. The mutant turned do look at Eric Shaw. The man nodded. Lorenor drew his prevalida sword. A direct threat had been made to a member of the Corone Armed Forces. The rest of the gathered cadets and soldiers also drew their weapons. Eric Shaw was the last one to do the same. Lorenor kept his weapon pointing down to the ground until he was given the order to attack. Once they were all combat-ready, the magus wore a grin on his face that was quite wide.

Seeing Eric Shaw point is weapon at the Magus, the men all moved into loose combat positions. Lorenor moved so that he could protect Duffy at all costs. Even his own life. The mutant would not act unless he was ordered to by Eric Shaw, all of the gathered warriors, except for Duffy, would follow the same protocol. Lorenor knew that the only unknown factor was Duffy. He wondered just how good a bullshit artist Duffy really was.

The Magus chuckled and then laughed. Several more Magi surrounded the troop. "You would bring members of the Scourge into our sacred domain?!" The Magus suddenly insulted. "Xem'Zund's war has no place here!" The Magus added as if his words would make any difference towards history.

"We are not members of the Scourge!" Eric Shaw yelled with a growl in his voice. "Xem'Zund's forces have no free will of their own." Eric Shaw pointed out.

"That maybe so, but how can you prove that you're not aligned with Xem'Zund?" The Magus continued. "Furthermore, you fellows do not have normal faces. Where are your eyes!?" The man asked with clear disgust in his voice.

Lorenor raised his hand towards Eric Shaw as a signal to allow the mutant to take charge. Lorenor saw that Eric Shaw agreed with the gesture and allowed Lorenor to take charge of the situation.

"You're a fool! Do you not recognize the children of N'Jal when you see them?! We are not servants of that fool Necromancer. We are the children of N'Jal herself!" Lorenor said with anger in his voice. "You would be wise to allow Spider Magi safe passage through your tower."

The man's eyes went wide with terror.

Another man walked over towards the first Magus. This man had long silver hair and blue eyes.

"What is the problem here?"

"Sir. There are two Spider Magi here." The Magus said to his superior. "What should I do?"

"Eric Shaw has the proper documents from the Corone Armed Forces. We do not want to upset his superior officers. Also, we have no idea what kind of powers the Spider Magi possess. One of the bastard things managed to kill the legendary Ithermoss without effort. One would have thought such a feat impossible."

"But they are monsters!"

"Let them pass. They are members of the Corone Armed Forces." The silver-haired man said.

Lorenor looked at Eric Shaw and nodded. "If you must see the documents again, I have them with me." Eric Shaw said.

"That won't be necessary." The Magus said stiffly. "Go about your business, you lot won't be bothered as long as you don't start any trouble here."

"We just want to get to the Fort in Radasanth like our papers said." Eric Shaw said.

"Very well." The Magus said. "At ease." He said to his fellow Magi.

Eric Shaw did the same thing. He ordered his troop to lower their arms.

"Your superior is wise." Eric Shaw said towards the first Magi, who merely grumbled curses under his breath.

Lorenor had tried to warn Eric Shaw about the weaknesses of his people. But, the man had not wanted to listen to him. Instead, the group proceeded to walk across the field of symbols glowing on the ground. At first, the mutant did not feel anything. But the moment his boots touched the glowing symbols on the ground, the mutant and his companion, Eric Shaw, felt a wave of tremendous pain. The elegant symbols covered the expanse of the ground before them and was directly in the way of the teleportation chamber. Steam started to flow from the mutant's arms. He noticed that Eric Shaw was having a similar reaction. Feeling an intense pain in his gut, Lorenor slightly hunched over. His face transformed into a mask of agony as he walked across the symbols. Intense light shone through the symbols as the two mutants walked across them. A glowing darkness surrounded the mutants as they walked forward. Lorenor could see the intense physical pain that his friend Eric Shaw was feeling. Lorenor felt helpless, there was naught he could do.

For all of his bravado and power, he was helpless against the Glorious Light. Walking forward, the mutant felt as though he was going through a mine field. His gut was turning in tight knots, and his flesh felt like it was on fire. It was an awful feeling, and he was used to the pain. He knew that Eric Shaw was feeling it even worse than he. Lorenor felt tears beginning to form in his eyes, flowing down his face. He closed them so that he could concentrate. A few more steps and he would be safe. However, the pain was too great, and Eric Shaw was a neophyte Forsaken at best. The pain would almost assuredly kill him.

"W-what is this!?" Eric Shaw suddenly called out. "Y-you did not warn me of this...!" He called out to Lorenor. Tears streaming down his face.

"I tried to warn you." Lorenor began. "You would not listen. Now we both have to suffer this madness." The mutant said in a matter of fact sort of way. The Glorious Light was doing its damage against the mutant, and he was starting to feel more pain with every step he took. The other cadets were absolutely fine as they walked towards the teleportation ring. "Try to suck it up." Lorenor said. As he walked, he felt the pain of the Glorious Light attempt to burn him alive. Lorenor clenched his teeth as he walked.

[Duffy]

“Spider Magi?” Duffy asked himself under his breath, swaying back and forth with impatience as bureaucracy took its toll on the group’s progress. The name meant nothing, but he could not help but wonder what the mage meant, what sort of creature or despicable slave of gods and monsters it implied.

Insults were thrown, and authority questioned, but eventually Lorenor and ‘Eric’ stepped into the grand theological glyph and vanished in a flurry of bright, burning light. The screams first alerted Duffy to potential danger, but as it passed and the two men vanished, he put it down to some nauseating effect of the magic involved in hurling life across great distances. Ughh, he thought, slumping his shoulders and setting off towards the circle with a gentle but childish amble. “The things we do, the things we say,” he stepped into it.

The Aria burst into life, no sooner had the light rushed up all around him, the choir of Tantalus erupted into its virginal song and carried it’s disciple to an unknown and distant place. Duffy stared at the mages in the last fleeting moments of his existence in the tower, wondering what they’d feared or hated about Lorenor, wondered what enmity remained in Corone. He understood little of this Xem’Zund, or the petty political dealings behind it, but he didn’t doubt that he’d be told soon enough.

All faded to black, and he felt himself pulled away to another place.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Note: I think I was a little unclear about the fact of what the symbols on the ground were. The symbols on the ground were literally wards against Evil organisms like Lorenor and Eric. However, it can be assumed that the symbols was the teleportation ring itself. I'll allow it. Originally I intended for Lorenor and Eric to pass through the seal and need some medical attention but this is all well and good.

Tremendous pain burst through the mutant. It was as he suspected all along, the symbols on the ground would be his undoing. Eric Shaw had sentenced the mutant to certain death. Cursing under his breath, the mutant fell to the powers of the Glorious Light. Again, there was nothing he could do. However, something else happened. He wasn't sure how, but the Magi were able to transport the very essences of the group through to the teleportation ring. In the blink of an eye, pain flowed through the very molecular substance of the mutant and his colleagues. The rest of the group passed just fine, except for Duffy. Duffy was also transported to the ring. As the group was ripped to little more than atomic matter, they were instantly moved across time and space. Lorenor screamed across the cosmos as he was moved from one position to the next. It was a terrible feeling. Death was close to the mutant and his companion, but the magi sought to ensure that they were not lost in the teleportation process. Moving across time and space there was a brilliant flash of light that engulfed all...

And he heard a voice.



Rest easy child. It will all be over soon.

I can finally sleep?

No you are needed. Your Dream is not yet come to pass. I am borrowing your Essence to secure your life. Plus I am going to give you a message.

What is it my Master?

Soon. One of the Heralds released in the Temple of the Oni will seek you out. He will seek your Destruction. This must not come to pass. You play a key in the Grand Scheme of All. You must become powerful enough to avoid what is coming to you. Do you understand my Child?

I do.

Be weary of the Future. Be weary of what is coming at all times. And remember, that Xem'Zund is the enemy of All.



With that, Lorenor felt a powerful sensation of pain. Is this it? Am I dead? What was it all for? Hands were grabbing at him. Lorenor clutched at his stomach as he felt pain flowing through is very person. "E-Eric. Where is Eric?" Lorenor called out, still unable to open his eyes. Voices were all around in a scene of chaos. Though Lorenor's eyes were both closed, the mutant had understood that they arrived in the fort in Radasanth. Fort Valendith surrounded the mutant. He was aware that they were in a large room, and everybody had gathered with them. On the floor, and on his knees, the mutant felt a substance flow out of his mouth. Probably his most recent meal. Lorenor instinctively wiped his mouth. Sensing Eric Shaw nearby, the mutant sighed with relief. They had all survived the process. Once he was able to stand, Lorenor opened his eyes, and the glowing energy manifested in his eye sockets. Blood trickled down the mutant's chin, he wiped his face clean again. One of the nearby cadets placed a powerful hand on the mutant's shoulder.

"Are you all right sir?" The lad asked kindly. "For a moment there, it seemed like you and Eric wouldn't make it."

"I-" Lorenor began. "I'm fine. Where's Eric?"

"I'm right here Lorenor." Eric Shaw responded. Lorenor sensed him nearby for the first time. The mutant sighed at that. "Sorry to worry about you, nobody was lost in the teleport." Eric Shaw said.

Suddenly, the mutant punched Eric Shaw in the face.

"I know you're my superior officer. But never ever do that to me again, understood?!"

Eric could only grin in response.

Lorenor then looked for Duffy and once he found him, walked over to Duffy's person.

"Are you all right?"

[Duffy]

“Am…am I alright?” Duffy wobbled a little bit, the earth seemingly moving under his feet like the visual trick that struck you when a carriage stopped at a station. It faded quickly enough for him to regain his composure, but formed enough of a reaction to keep from jumping into a teleport as eagerly as he had just done. “I’m fine, as it happens – a little fuzzy but nothing that can’t be solved with a stiff drink and a sit down.” He looked around for somewhere to sit, somewhat nervous in the strange and unfamiliar surroundings he found himself in.

It dawned on him he’d let his accent slip. “Oh,” he muttered, catching flies with a fluttering mouth. “I,” he shrugged. Although he retained the accent, it was considerably more posh and annunciated than he had been up until now. “I, yeah, this is my normal voice. I guess I get,” he squinted. “There’s, blood…there,” he pointed, “On your hand…are you alright?”

Thankful for the distraction Duffy cleared his throat and muttered several practice lines, replacing the clear cut grammar and carefully worded phrases with the old friends slang, slander and a cute little lisp he’d mastered over the years. The street thief returned, and grasped frantically to retain the young, unskilled moniker he no doubt would need to get Lorenor to open up, and to get any sort of bond developed.

The future of Scara Brae was at stake at the very best, and then there was the troupe to consider. Lucian would not stop at Duffy, he would carve them all apart to get his revenge on the very being who had given him his power, his vantage point on the world, his lucid emotions and well wrought artistry. In the last few weeks it had become apparent that Tantalus was not as forgiving as he'd first appeared, even if the true nature or truth of his 'god' was not yet fully known or understood. The word N'jal came back to the fore of his mind, and he wondered if he should ask Lorenor of his master. One thing at a time, he re-assured himself, waiting to see what fantastical explanation the mutant could come up with for the red splatter caked onto his knuckles.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Barely, did he register the pain in his hand. The regeneration process had already kicked in and the injuries were healing upon themselves. Lorenor looked down upon his hand and indeed see bloody knuckles. He must have hit Eric really hard for that to happen. Black blood caked his hand and it dripped down upon the ground. Lorenor grimaced when he saw the broken knuckles, apparently he had underestimated Eric. Though that would never happen again, he knew that his companion would probably not bring up the strike ever again. Lorenor looked at Duffy and nodded.

"The regeneration process will take a bit of time but my hand will heal in due time." Lorenor said. He continued to keep his eyes upon Duffy. "We're here now, the Guard Captains will assign us Quarters. You can stay with me if you would like to." Lorenor said. He continued. "There are dormitories in this Fort. We will be staying in a room within them. You can get training here if you wish. That's why I'm here. To master my Sword Skill. Maybe I'll be a better asset to you when we fight Lucien." Lorenor looked away from Duffy for a moment, but continued to speak. "We've already been through a lot together. It would be my honor to fight alongside you."

Cadets and Knights were moving about the gathering area, checking their equipment, and making other preparations. Life in the military academy would be a long, enduring one. Each piece of the machine needed to be ready to play his or her individual role. Some people were still being teleported through the Gate, but that was the last batch. Lorenor saw the last of the Cadets come through the Gate and feel disoriented. Some Knights were assigned to oversee the Gate and ensure that the transition went as smoothly as possible. Lorenor admired the scene for a moment and wondered what the heck he had to do next. Eric Shaw was busily talking to a Superior Officer so the mutant could not disturb him. A Knight walked up to the potential Cadets, and greeted Lorenor and Duffy with a stiff salute. The mutant replied by nodding his head deeply towards the Knight. Seeing that the man was dressed in casual attire for a member of the Corone Armed Forces, Lorenor figured that he must've been off duty. His cape flowed with his movements. He was still heavily armed.

"Lorenor I presume. I have been informed that I will be your Handler whilst you remain in Fort Valendith. Do you have any questions?"

"What about Eric Shaw? I thought he would be my Handler?" Lorenor asked, a bit of confusion in his heart. "Why has this changed?" Lorenor asked, the confusion visible now.

"Eric Shaw has been assigned to a different task. Though he will oversee your progress from to time, it has been ruled that I will be your Handler by the Master General himself. There's a specific reason for it. I know a few things about the world. Most importantly, I know a few things about the Dark Lady, N'Jal." The Knight grinned broadly and winked towards Lorenor. "We know what you carry within. It is no longer a secret that is yours to keep." The Knight continued. "I have been a Follower of N'Jal for a time now. We helped to bring about the change within the Knights of Dawn. But that is a story for another day. My name is Jake Thorn. Of the Thorn Household." The Knight said, as if his name were well known. Lorenor vaguely recalled hearing about a Household called the Thorn during his stay in Radasanth. But he'd never directly met any member of the Household until that precise moment. The Knight looked in Duffy's general direction. "What about you young Sir?" The Knight asked of Duffy. "Will you be training with us as well?"

And that's how it all began.

[Duffy]

Duffy listened to Lorenor and shrugged, not getting quite the fantastical explanation he had been hoping for. It was true, the more prepared they were for the coming trials, the more adaptable they’d be in facing them, but without a modicum of truth to go with this plethora of skills, he didn’t much favour his chances. “I’ll be alrigt’ in a room of me own Lorenor, I got me some readin’ to do, rehearsin’ for a play when I gets back to Scara Bray, I’’ll catch ya in the mornin’,” he made every bitter attempt to begin walking off to find directions, before someone caught him and forced him to turn around again.

“Trainin’? Now? I hopin’ you mean the mornin’ you won’t get hide nor hair of me today, all this flittering and flackerin’ about is tiresome, especially on me young feet. I’ll give ya my all tomorrow, until then,” he nodded with a rapscallion glimmer, and tattled off out of the main room. All the while, despite his bouncing stride, he could not help feel ever so slightly overwhelmed. It was odd how a routine little trip to investigate a flight of fancy in a prophetic dream was turning out to be some wondrous adventure into the unknowable unknown – so much so, he was consciously writing it all down on the parchment in his mind to use it in some theatrical double entendre in the years to come, how his children would laugh!

A few minutes passed of endless walking, and Duffy came across a small wooden door accompanied with a stern looking individual attempting to pass himself off as a guard. “Excuse me good amiable sir,” he began, laying on his tradespeak so thick it would say little else except ‘merchant, important back up, speak proper!’ to the country boy.

“YESSIR!”

“Could you kindly direct me to the quest quarters wot wot!”

The guard’s hand snapped up and pointed along the corridor and Duffy nodded before walking on. He was impressed with how easy it’d been, but directions and information were too easy to obtain – using them so as to find oneself in a comfortable non military bed, now that was where it really could all get interesting.

“The night’s still yung,” he chimed, whistling and wobbling as he made his way towards a little luxury after a long time on the road.



Spoils:

Knowledge of N'Jal - Below average of the Spider Thayne.

Tolerant Fool: Duffy's tolerance of alchohol and his acting combine to allow him some modicum of success in 'pretending' to be drunk.

[Amaril Torrun]

Paradox


You asked for a lightning judgment for an unfinished thread and your wish is my command. Some quick comments will follow the numbers.

STORY

Continuity ~ 5

Setting ~ 3

Pacing ~ 3


CHARACTER

Dialogue ~ 4

Action ~ 6

Persona ~ 6


WRITING STYLE

Technique ~ 3

Mechanics ~ 4

Clarity ~ 4


MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 5


TOTAL ~ 43

The interactions between Duffy and Lorenor need a lot of work. Lorenor would start up a conversation, then the story would skip Duffy’s half and fast forward to some action. Then Duffy’s following post would play catch up, along with reciting what Lorenor had already said. For your readers, this chops up and rushes the story. Sometimes it just got frustrating. The key to fixing this is taking a little more time to work together and plan things out between posts. Work it out on instant messaging or through private messages. Remember, while everyone in a thread is writing with their own character, the story being told is a collaborative effort that comes across best when written in a somewhat fluidic manner.

Lorenor earns 2343 experience that he will hopefully return to see.

Duffy earns 977 experience. You asked for a lot in terms of spoils…. but I’ll allow them to slide this time. ;P

[Taskmienster]

Exp and GP added. Lorenor hits level 8!