Hunting Makai...(Open to All)

[~Humphrey_Nonyton~]

Recruit Thread (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=22202)

Adjusting to Underwood was not an easy matter for the Akashiman warrior. A stranger in a strange land, Humphrey Nonyton found himself looking for work. The native threat was a group of lowly goblin-folk that settled in the nearby region of Concordia Forest. That would not provide a challenge. In the meantime, Humphrey had sought free-lance work for a locale Cathedral in Underwood proper. Getting work as a freelance Exorcist, Humphrey had befriended the locale followers of a pagan deity. The deity mattered very little to Humphrey, only the fact that the locales needed a Warder mattered.

On that particular night, a Saturday in August, Humphrey stepped out of the Cathedral with his latest free-lance job. Humphrey was a heroic individual and needed to make himself useful at all times. He studied the parcel in his hand, it was mandated by the locale bishop of the Cathedral. Humphrey sighed, there was an imperial stamp on the parcel. Humphrey did not like the Corone Empire and what it stood for. However, he was still a free-lance man of the cloth, without a church of his own.

Humphrey looked at the parcel for a moment longer and decided that it would be wise to seek assistance for the job. The nearby hills of Concordia Forest had been terrorized by an Oni Makai. The creature had unknown origins, and Humphey was sent in to neutralize the demon before more civilians were terrorized by it. In his heart, Humphrey knew that the task would not be easy. Corone demons were not the demons of Akashima. As a Spirit Warder, he would have to be on guard at all times. For this job, he had to purify the demon after he'd killed it, and consecrate it's remains in a holy altar. Men of the cloth. Braggarts. Ruffians. Con artists.

Humphrey placed the parcel back in his pack. These days, he was dressed as an exorcist hired by the cloth might. His dress was fancy, a vlince pair of pants that were reinforced with leather, quite baggy. His upper body consisted of an overcoat that he wore coloured black to match his pants, and a high-collar to hide the lower portion of his snout. As a kitsune, Humphrey oft received stares from the bewildered populace around him. Though Radasanth was a cosmopolitan city, there were those bigots within the city that still looked down upon the beast men of Althanas. Armed with his faith in his warder skills, Humphrey began to walk towards the limits of Underwood. His tail swayed from side to side as he walked, his speed was casual and confident.

Heavily armed, Humphrey was prepared to meet any challenge dead on. He never faltered, his faith in the service to the spirits prevented him from showing fear. He had almost sublime faith in the power of his religion. The gods he followed, did not matter. Only the services the miracle-worker could provide did. In a few short months, Humphrey had exorcised many ghosts and demons, and freed the bodies of those who were locked in possessed states. The Spirit Warder arts had helped Humphrey earn room and board in Underwood. Though the guard kept a watchful eye on the exorcist, they respected his ability to perform miracles. And his skill.

So Humphrey stopped at the town limits of Underwood. He turned to face the town for a few brief moments, and then turned back towards Concordia. He walked on to face his destiny.

[Zack Blaze]

As Humphrey made his way down the road, he would hear a clicking noise. The more he walked, the louder and more rapid the strange sound came. Eventually, the spirit warder was upon the sound, but just as quickly as he had approached it with his one track mind ignoring it, he also began to hear it drift again quickly. The source of the noise was none other than a teenage boy snapping his fingers over and over again, trying to develop some sort of rhythm it seemed.

Zack Blaze stared at his thumb and index finger intently. He had accepted a job with the Underwood cathedral to slay some sort of deviant being, but for now he had just wanted to rest. After all, playing the hero and beating the bad guy would take a lot of effort, and Zack himself was not too keen on expending the energy needed to fall a monster. Chances were he had not been the first sword for hire used by the cathedral, and he was certain that he would not be the last.

All it took was a few hours of not returning back to Underwood with any news before they had seemingly sent another person to fight in Zack's stead. The man grinned while watching Humphrey go about his mission, standing up and starting to follow the man. From the stature and features of the kitsune, Zack could deduce an Akashima bloodline of some sort. This revelation caused the youth to withdraw his arm, which he had almost hung around the traveler. After all, Akashimian were very touchy about, well, being touchy.

"The church wastes no time," Zack said, sticking his hands into the pockets of his pants. "I'm the guy who preceded you on this mission. Name's Zack." The teen spoke plainly, his words having a somewhat sweet tinge to them. "Before you ask, I'm assuming you're going after that nasty Makai thing. I would have taken care of it myself, but sharing a reward for taking care of the beast seems more appropriate. I'm sorry if I mistook you for somebody else, it's just that the majority of the Underwood people are too afraid to leave the city for fear of the Makai. It would only make sense that you would be commissioned by the Church after they hadn't heard back from me."

At this point, Zack shifted in front of Humphrey, walking backwards and still keeping stride with the foreign man. Zack extended his hand towards the swordsman, the smile still on his lips. "What do you say we team up on this thing? Make sure it regrets terrorizing the people of Underwood... right partner?

[~Humphrey_Nonyton~]

Humphrey brooded for a moment or three as he walked forward. Then his quiet thoughts were interrupted by the fellow before him. The man had a sort of light around him, an enthusiastic nature that reminded the fox of his younger days. When the hand was extended, Humphrey shook the man's hand with a toothy smile. Looking about casually, Humphrey made sure that no unsavory types were about. Though he was not a member of the Watch, he still believed in protecting the freedoms of the average peon.

Humphrey looked at Zack after a moment or two passed.

"Your assistance is most welcome. My name is Humphrey. Humphrey Nonyton." Humphrey said carefully. The boy had a strong grip, Humphrey noticed that about Zack. "It's a pleasure to have your company on this journey. The church has mandated that I must use my particular...talents...to purify the lost soul of the Makai we will fight." Humphrey raised a finger and pointed to the night-sky. "I am a warder. What you Coronians call an Exorcist in the common-tongue."

[Knave]

“Make her a member of the midnight crew…”

A strong baritone struck every melodious note on the scale, and a creature in the shape of a man made use of its bewitching voice for the kind of sport it loved most: Song. The sound alone, raucous and overjoyed with the sensation of itself awakened the birds to a lesson in sound to which they blinked and remained silent in the face of. Possibly out of shame. The words were unimportant, telling of nightly dalliances with the denizens of darkness, the defense of wives, and the flight which only fast feet are capable of. It was the kind of song men hum or whistle when nothing could bring them down.

Truth to form as far as anyone was concerned the figure that walked the woods was that of a man, one whose legs strode through brush and bush alike though barefoot .The legs of his pants, a faded gray piece, were rolled up beyond the ankles. He was a man who could have been in his late teens or early twenties, the air of youth untarnished by the creeping despair of age hanging about him.

While creature is a fitting term implying more or less than but certainly something other than human, for the moment nothing could be said of him beyond that he seemed quite pleasant. Likewise, in name he was something other than what was given, but that was his point and purpose for the moment.

Accompanied by zombies and children, battling in the Citadel atop meteors flying toward destruction, and making alliances with the likes of assassins and killers, Ace had made the name if not famous, certainly a credential in itself. In everything he did he added new value, new valor to that name.

He would do the same here, in the name of himself and beginning with a pompous but winning, “I am…” Ace had come to Underwood. Though his feet walked the earth, his path was one of quiet desperation, and while he seemed without direction, there was indeed a final goal. With the license of something definitively grand, and awesomely terrific, Ace had taken on a base adventure. He had the image of victory in mind already, himself atop a mountain of bodies and demons, and himself returning with the trophies that would pay for his reward: word of mouth.

The sun’s rays warmed him, and he finished his song, with an exceptionally good ear, Ace listened to the wind, and heard voices that were none of his own. I knew I wouldn’t be alone, but I certainly thought I’d be the first on the scene. Ace thought, trundling through the hedges to make his presence known.

“Lo, and behold, I do believe we might be related!” Ace said, grinning as pushed aside the last of the cover. “I doubt you’re farmers, you don’t reek of sheep, and journeymen care more for their silence than each other,” Ace said, talking with a battery of friendly words and exclamations as he moved to make their acquaintance with an implicit, though unseen, and possibly an unknown greeting, “Names Ace, I thinking we’ll be slaying demons together.” He finished, offering a hand of welcome to his merry band.

[~Humphrey_Nonyton~]

Soon, a trio had formed. Humphrey turned towards the latest new comer who was also a jovial fellow. The man introduced himself, Humphrey politely shook the man's hand. Then Humphrey answered in kind.

"Name's Humphrey, Ace. I don't know how many people will be with us for this trip into Concordia. But I have a gut feeling we'll need a full war band."

Humphrey turned to look back towards the general direction of the Cathedral. His gut told him more adventurers would come. Humphrey would give them a bit of time to arrive whilst he got to know his fellow warriors. Underwood had been through a lot in recent times. Rumours hit the streets a few years ago that the town was destroyed in an attack. But Coronians were made of stern stuff, and Humphrey found out that the rumour was nothing more. Humphrey looked at Zack and Ace for a few moments.

"We shall give a few more moments for any stragglers to arrive. The Makai in question is one of the giant-ken. Dangerous beasties. Alone, we definitely would not survive, but together, there is a chance. The Cathedral has asked that I exorcise its remains after the beast falls." Humphrey tapped his chin. "The scouts of The Watch have spotted just one of the things, but there could be more of them out there." Humphrey continued. "The party will be a long and interesting one."

[Zack Blaze]

Looking at the newcomer, Zack's smile only widened. The more people to slay the Makai, the easier it would be for him not to do any of the heavy lifting. The teen was certain that he had seen this new warrior before. Had he seen some of his citadel fights in his studies? Or maybe he had heard of some of his quests? Either way, Zack got the feeling that the job just got that much easier.

Zack's gaze reached Humphrey once more. The kitsune had identified himself as an exorcist. The youth had no clue that one could exorcise full on demons, assuming that the services were needed to repel evil out of humans. The fact that Humphrey was here, however, indicated that Zack's pretenses on the occupation were false. He'd have to look into that more later.

"A full war band of people just means a group that would slow us down. Not to mention they might not take orders," Zack said, trying to get his new 'partner' to think a little more clearly. "I mean, I'll let you lead how you wish to, but I just think that a bigger group creates bigger problems. I'm no leader though, so what do I know?"

Zack shrugged callously as he asked the last question. In truth, Zack did not want to share any of the reward that was at stake during this fight. Of course, after learning what Humphrey had to go through in order to truly rid this plane of the Makai...

A fleeting thought passed Zack's mind, and the smile only grew wider...

[Christina Bredith]

It had been a long time since Underwood was truly a safe place for any of the Corone Rangers. Ever since the razing of Underwood by the corrupt Empire, effectively crushing the heart of the rebellion—its physical heart, though not its spirit—they had gone into hiding at the highly-defensible Cathedral Hill in western Concordia, not far from the Coronian coast. There they engaged in training their piecemeal army into a force that would be formidable enough to truly challenge the Empire and its Armed Forces on military terms, not to mention engaging in the Rangers’ traditional duties of protecting the people under their care. The Empire was not nearly as concerned with that, preferring to keep its expensive soldiers safe within the walls of established forts and cities as little more than glorified keepers-of-order.

Christina Bredith hated the Corone Empire. She well and truly hated it and everything it stood for. It was a teeming, pulsating mass of corruption spreading through Corone, the country where she had been born and raised, like a cancer. A fungus. Sometimes it frustrated her that so few thought to take a stance against their corruption, but at others, she could hardly blame them. Normal people could not be expected to stand against might like the Empire’s. The people of Gisela and the Yarborough Barony had done so once; they had been rewarded with a slaughter that should forever stain the country’s histories as the Gisela Massacre. Of course, the Empire would sweep that little blemish under the rug and, given a few years, people would forget that it had ever happened, or accept it as a “necessity.” That meant toppling the Empire was priority number one.

But it was important not to become single-minded in hatred, and Christina was never much at risk of that. Toppling the Empire was simply her strongest motivation, but if anything it enabled her to see the larger picture even more clearly. Protecting the people of Concordia—of Corone—was her real duty here. That was why she had always wanted to join the army as a child; she wanted to be like her mother and father, protecting the things that they loved. The army no longer stood for valor and safety, but corruption and murder. The Rangers offered the things that the army once provided, and so, Christina Bredith had become a Ranger to her core.

Patrols of Concordia Forest were a regular part of their duties, and a good way to train new recruits to scout, an area where Christina herself could use quite a bit of training despite being a Deputy in the Ranger command structure, and occasionally in combat, since banditry was not uncommon in many parts of the forest (here she needed much less instruction). Those patrols often ended in the mess hall at their makeshift fort under Cathedral Hill with tales of exploits that got taller and taller the emptier their flagons of ale got.

One such tale, though, had Christina laughing so hard she nearly lost some of that ale through her nose. “Oh, come on, Ackley!” she exclaimed after struggling to gulp it down. “You don’t really expect us to believe that creatures like that actually exist, do you?” Several of the other men at the table laughed too, shaking their heads and pounding the table with clenched fists.

Ackley was chuckling too, apparently finding it hard to believe himself. He was the one that had told them the story of the giant ogre wandering through the forest, but he hadn’t seen the thing himself—not uncommon for such a tall tale. He’d had it from another Ranger who claimed to have seen yet another Ranger fight and nearly get killed by the beast after a valiant fight several days ago. Well, there had been no such injuries reported in many months, so that part of the tale could at least be completely discarded. Not that anyone gathered believed the rest of it, either.

“I’m just telling you what I heard, Deputy,” he said after taking some of his drink. “Fifteen feet tall, it was, with arms like tree trunks and teeth like swords. The men called it some sort of demon, something straight out of Akashiman legend.”

“Well, I think we’ll leave that one to the Empire’s soldiers, then.” That brought a chorus of laughter from the Rangers, none of whom believed the story any more than she did.

Just then, a commotion arose just outside the mess hall, voices shouting and the sudden sounds of people scrambling in every which direction. Christina was sure that this could mean only one thing: the Empire had found them at last and was mounting an assault. She bolted out of her seat and made for the door, shouting orders the whole way. There was an established routine for dealing with this kind of incursion; every man, woman and child in the camp knew it like they knew how to breathe, and Christina fell into it like a dance.

But what she saw outside was not the Empire raining death with fire and arrow. Two Rangers were carrying a third into the camp in such a poor state that he was barely recognizable. His face was so bloodied and bruised that she didn’t think she could recognize him if he told her his name, and his left arm and leg were just… gone. It was amazing that he had even lived long enough to make it here, though now that she looked, she saw that his arm and leg—the stumps where his arm and leg had been—had been bandaged up quite well given the circumstances; the bandages had just been so soaked with blood that they were dripping through and it almost looked as if they weren’t there.

Christina rushed forward with the rest of the Rangers from her table. She shouted for two of them to help carry the wounded man to the medical tent, while ordering the other two to remain behind. “What the hell happened to him?” she demanded.

“It was some kind of demon, Deputy Bredith,” the first of his companions said, a young thing with a scraggly brown beard and dull green eyes visibly shaken by the experience. Christina’s blood ran cold at the word. “The thing leveled a blow at me and Rayner intercepted. He saved my life, but it snatched him up by the arm, then grabbed his leg and…”

He looked about to vomit, so Christina patted him on the shoulder, unable to hide her own grimace. The rest of that story wasn’t difficult to imagine. She waved him on to the medical tent himself and turned to face his companion, already fearing the question she had to ask. He was a bit older than his companion, and his blonde hair and blue eyes would have been quite pretty if they weren’t so haunted.

“There were five of you. There are always five.” Not a question, then; she couldn’t bring herself to actually ask it, but her expression told the other man, Shane, that she already knew what he was about to say. He nodded his head.

“Leonard and Marlin didn’t make it, Deputy.” She looked at him in silence after that, and he seemed to think she wanted to hear more; but when he began explaining, she snapped out of her reverie and shushed him with a quick gesture.

“Never mind. Just tell me where you ran into this thing.”

Less than five minutes later, Christina and a standard scouting band of four other Rangers were riding south and east for the nearest crossing across the swift Bradbury River, then east through the northern section of the forest. The going would be slow with this thick forest all around, but the demon wasn’t very far. She just prayed that they made it there before anyone else did.

[Knave]

It was time to start feeling. Ace may have proven his salt more than enough in relating to others, but there was something instinctively inimitable about knowing your motivations. As Zack spoke, the shape-shifter pondered how best to relate to him, and to keep in mind just how much he cared. “I've got to confess, he’s right.” Ace, said, rolling his shoulders and yawning lightly as if to relieve the lax weight of heavy sleep. The wind caught up, in terms of cool sensation its breeze cast cool tongues across the warm touch of the sun.

Opening one eye wide, Ace’s brown irises tracked between the two men,his expression unassuming and unaware, “If it comes down to a lack of coordination, let’s be war bands unto ourselves, but lets not forget that we have the same goals, the same sides, and somewhere out there, “ he threw wide a hand to invoke the forest and the unknown behind him, “ is something that kills as it breaths.” The rustling leaves took the place of a wild beast, underwhelming but still somewhat illustrative. Their numbers were like his strength, the ogre who had taken his place in legend was unfathomable.

“This might be a daunting challenge, heck, we might even die, but I’m curious…” The long red sleeves of his shirt trembled, and conformed to the shape of his body as tension built and his excitement began to burn, “what makes a demon, or any monster more dangerous than a man with ambition in his soul, and steel in his hand?” A world of strength made that difference, but so long as Ace had more than that and they, why would he care?

Ace continued, walking backwards to consort with his crew, “It's a good question.” He said, laying Zack’s passive aggression out as simple honesty, “what do any of us know about killing things that eclipse the sun when they stand stall and empty lakes dry when they drink?” Above the grand scale of an unseen threat, Ace wondered if at any time this newly formed cadre of heroic killers would come to any idea of a plan?

[~Humphrey_Nonyton~]

Meanwhile-

Walking through Concordia Forest, the creature was searching for more victims. The last group had fallen quickly to it's supernatural strength and barbaric cunning. Legend gave the creature a name: Ogre. It was a tall creature, standing at a rough height of about 8 feet total. It's weight class was incredible. A bipedal organism, the creature had tree-trunk like thighs, and equally powerful arms. It was frightfully intelligent, but used it's cunning to cause great harm on the race of men. It was out for war.

Part of a tribe of barbaric humanoids, the Ogre traditionally lived in the depths of Concordia Forest where evil took root. The Ogre had recently slain 3 warriors that were part of the Corone Rangers, though it had not known that. It was simply out for carnage. Seemingly unarmed, the Ogre had a brutish physique. It had salmon coloured flesh, no hair, and many horns jutting out of his skull. It lumbered as it walked, weapons jutting out of his flesh. Swords from the Corone Rangers, as well as arrow bolts that had been launched and caused the creature to go into a frenzy in the first place.

The Rangers had declared first-blood, but the Ogre had won the day. As it made his way from the Corone Ranger's turf towards the town of Underwood, the Ogre prepared for imminent battle. It sensed meat-sacks near...it's insatiable appetite knew no bounds.

***

Deciding that the wait was probably over, Humphrey turned towards his new companions. Ace and Zack. Both interesting gentlemen. Humphrey nodded in their general direction politely. Then, he prepared to walk towards Concordia Forest. Periodically, Humphrey sniffed at the air in order to try to catch a trail to go on. Once he was certain he got the faintest hint of the Makai, Humphrey grinned. He turned towards his companion.

"It's close by. Be on your guard you two, the church named this thing an Ogre."

[Zack Blaze]

The group had waited for about an hour before Humphrey had spoken. The teen spent his time fondling with invisible toys. Back in his youth, Zack had encountered a mime, a detestable creature that pretended it was using unseen everyday items. While most people revolted the job, Zack found it fascinating that the white faced beings could see things where there was obviously naught. As such, he occasionally spent his time viewing the mimes, and as such picked up a few decent ways to pass the time.

He was still slinging his 'yo-yo' up and down when the unspoken party leader had declared that they had waited long enough. He also warned the two of the oncoming danger. The beast was near. Zack looked to his comrades in arms while thinking of the terrible power this being, this 'ogre' wielded. It was power that should not have belonged to a savage beast.

Humphrey had his hands on his weapon, and so did Ace. They were adventurers bred for fighting monsters. Zack's experience in questing, however, was far less impressive than his new found friends. The teen had grown up a student, with a small street fighting background. He could land a punch to the face of a human opponent, but something demonic far outclassed anything he was able to dish out.

From the descriptions he had got from the church, the beast carried several weapons in its very body. Such a thing was unheard of, but if it were true, perhaps Zack could find his place among his temporary buddies. Maybe he could attain a blade that was powerful enough to kill an ogre.

"On second thought," Zack assessed, "if it got stuck in the things skin, it isn't worth its salt anyways... oh well." The boy looked up to his fellow travelers, who were now blankly staring at him. "Just thinking aloud."

Zack pointed towards the inner workings of the forest, noticing several torn down trees and holes in the ground that resembled footprints. "I'm going to take a wild guess here and say the Makai is that way...."

[Knave]

As they went, a fetid stench filled the air. The smell of something primal which laid claim to the wind and blasted every creature with the territorial mark that simply said “MINE.” It had been prevalent before, but the effect of closing distance meant more with time, and Ace considered pinching his nose shut permanently to prevent the reek from haunting his lungs as it would his close for days to come. Ace’s head swam, and his gut churned with an inner disgust. He kept talking, he kept walking, and Lawrence wanted to kill the thing immediately.

“Ah, no plan to speak of?” He asked, his tone ringing true for courage and its carelessness, his blood seething for the simple reason that on a base level, Ace could understand the nature of the ogre. It was a simple thing, in no way what lighter hearts would romanticize, there were no hackles raised, no teeth bared, but in the range of pure instinct the ogre was simply an insult. In the range of values it stank of death and shit, and while neither the apparent Ace nor the hidden Law laid claim to anything both would never give ground to a stupid and lesser abomination.

As the way became clearer and the danger nearer, a silence joined the newly found team, and like them was unattached, unknown to the others yet shared with them a destination and grew tense with time. The forest for its worth had been depleted. As the going went, hills had been leveled, torn open mounds of earth could be found between trees. Towering elms of no less than fifty feet high, but no more than two in width, had been shattered by the small, simple effort of prodigious strength.

Ace in passing inspected one of the felled trees. The four largest indents in the battered, pulped bark were impression of immense knuckles, knuckles of similar size to the twin trails the ogre left in his wake. At a boulder, round if not ovular, the ogre had marked its territory, and stained the boulder red and melted it in portions into the ground. Ace could not bring himself any nearer, but grasping some sense of seriousness put on his boots and tightened his belt, the sheathe of his sword a pleasant weight to have when the beast was out for blood.

As the trail grew hotter, both of Ace’s comrades began to remark of the danger. Humphrey, a man…thing… Ace was certain he had seen the like of before came forward with a name which meant little when describing the force of their opponent. Zack regarded the beast in terms of its value, the weapons in its back above all and not thinking of what sorcerers would pay for its blood. Ace replied in kind thusly:

“Relax, if its any part the devil that we should be afraid then it could be too late!” He said, tapping his sensitive and much hated nose, “An ogre knows by his nose the whereabouts of man, beast, and foe.” He quoted an old rhyme they told in Fallien, the translation better than the simple and crass nature of his original dialect. “We’re strapped with blades, and the church sent for more than three men to do the work of an army, wouldn’t surprise me if we aren’t the first to handle the beast,” he smirk, his hand tugging the long sword at his hip just an inch to show the gleam of mythril murder at his side, “but I’ve got the ticket that says we’re going to be the last.” It was no empty promise, no pride for the mythical metal's glory.

With a single sound the beast announced itself, a shout of true hate, and the surrender of sanity to anger. A haunting bellow echoed through the woods and rang out even into the snowcapped mountains surrounding the forest and city of Underwood. A tree toppled in the distance,another was uprooted its path, and from the distance all could see that mighty oak felled, its body audibly breaking, and the sound of impact as it took down several of its fellows in its fall.

All four, our heroes and silence itself, grew stern and wary as the threat became imminent. Its roars were pained, but its strength everlasting as some threat troubled the ogre, proving as of yet inconsequential to its mission, but a hindrance to its plans. As one the group rushed to the source of so much destruction even as it spoke, its straining vocal chords issuing a challenge of honor, a declaration of intent, a reason to live, and by virtue of outrage a reason to die!

“DEATH TO ALL HUMANS!”

[Christina Bredith]

The ride was hard going. Concordia was thick enough with trees that one almost felt as though swimming instead of riding. Horses were not the best means of travel through the more poorly traveled parts of the woods, lacking roads as they did, but they were still marginally faster than traveling on foot and would keep them from tiring out before even finding the demon. Either option seemed frustratingly slow, however; each minute they lost could mean another life taken.

Christina and her companions had not remembered a clearing where the wounded party had described it, but when they arrived, they could see quite clearly that it was not natural. The smaller trees had been uprooted and tossed aside as if by a tornado, and even a good number of the larger ones had been toppled by sheer strength or bodily force. That some of the thicker trees remained upright despite the damage evident to their bark was at least of some comfort to Christina: it provided some gauge of the demon’s size and strength. That it could only obliterate trees up to a handful of feet in diameter was very small consolation, but faced with odds like these, she would take what fate handed her.

The beast was no longer there, but its path was easy to follow even for someone with as little patience or talent for tracking as Christina. Its passing had left a wide berth of trees, some uprooted, some knocked over, others merely bent and the biggest only impacted by large fists, leading directly south through the thickest part of the forest. “Underwood,” Christina breathed, and gripped her reins until her knuckles turned white. “Let’s make up for lost time, gentlemen!”

The trail of devastation made it much easier to move the horses at a quick clip, though the debris left by the monster’s passing still hampered them; if they pushed too hard, they could easily trip the animals up and break leg or neck. Still, they covered far more ground in far less time than they had, important since Christina was absolutely determined to stop this creature before it reached Underwood. That town had gone through so much, with both the Rangers and the Empire sharing in the blame, so it was time to repay the debt they owed.

They heard the creature long before they saw it. Its bellows seemed a mixture of pain and anger, the only emotions Christina was willing to attribute to such a beast. “DEATH TO ALL HUMANS!” came the roar, freezing Christina’s blood. No, there was no time for fear; a cry like that could only mean that it had come across other travelers in the forest and would soon kill again. She kicked her horse’s sides, urging what little more speed she could from it in this terrain, and quickly closed the gap between her and the monstrosity.

It was smaller than she had expected from the Rangers’ greatly-exaggerated tales, but it still had a head and shoulders above even the tallest of her Rangers. A group of travelers were assembled around it: two young men, likely citizens from the town of Underwood, and a... fox-like something that Christina had never seen before.

“Get away!” she cried, swinging off her horse as it pulled into the wide clearing made wider by the ogre’s presence. “It’s too dangerous here!” She and the Rangers quickly crossed the remaining distance on foot, taking up positions near the monstrosity.

The ogre looked over its shoulder at the newcomers, appearing only vaguely interested, but the arrows shot at it by two of the lead Rangers caught its attention more fully. It swung around slowly, almost dragging its massive arms in the process, and grunted something unintelligible in their direction. Recognition dawned slowly on its malformed face, possibly of their uniforms, though Christina’s—not Ranger-issue—was certainly foreign.

“Surround it,” she commanded the other Rangers, who instantly began sweeping around the ogre in a circular formation. Her focus now was totally on bringing the beast down; she had accepted the travelers’ departure as a foregone conclusion and took no notice that they were still there. “Eyes first! Blind it and we’ll have some hope of killing this thing!” Rangers were among the best marksmen around, so if anyone had a chance of pin-cushioning those small eyes, they did. If Christina could just hold the beast’s attention...

But instantly the creature lunged forward, aiming for another of the Rangers with a sweeping blow. The young man tried to step away, but the reach of the ogre’s arms was difficult to estimate. It connected solidly, sending him flying back against the thick trunk of an oak; there was, in that same moment, a crunch that Christina hoped came from the tree.

It’s fast! she thought, surprised. That was, perhaps, putting too fine a point on it—it just moved faster than she had expected it to, given its size. I guess I’ll just have to keep up! There was a tendency to equate “large” with “slow,” and she was grateful at least not to pay the price for making that mistake herself. She just hoped young Julian was alright.

“All right,” she ordered, “keep away and fire until you’ve got no arrows left! Hey, ugly! If it’s a dance you want, then let’s do it!” Holding the blade up in front of her, she issued a command, and an amethyst-coloured rune on the flat of her blade flared to life. “Dance, Rosebite!” As if summoned by an unseen wind, a flurry of rose petals kicked up suddenly around Christina, throwing the folds of her red uniform and the locks of her golden hair about. She took a step forward… and became a blur.

Christina became little more than a shadow, difficult for the eye to follow. In what appeared to be two steps, she was behind the ogre, swinging her blade at its back fast enough that it seemed she was a four-armed deva brandishing death twice at once. There was only one thud, though, as Rosebite’s damascus edge failed to make significant headway through the leathery flesh. It was worse than cutting through armour! Had that even drawn blood?

The monster howled, which brought Christina back to reality. She leaped as it swung its arm backward, form blurring through the air as she flipped overhead. Of all the useless things her parents had had her learn in her youth, at least they’d had the sense to make gymnastics one of them!

Arrows whistled as the remaining three Rangers unloaded their first and second barrages. There were similar thunks as the arrows impacted; a couple sank deep enough to remain in the flesh, while others bounced off as if they had been shooting at trees. “The eyes!” she called again, trying to inflame the ogre’s attention with a flurry of blurring cuts. “It’s our best chance!”

She knew as well as the Rangers did that that "best chance" was not a particularly good one; the ogre’s eyes were too small for its head, making an already-difficult target into something fit for marksman’s legend. Unless they could find some real weak spots in the creature’s natural armour, however, there wasn’t much they could do. And frankly, there wasn’t enough time to do that.

Not enough time to stand around thinking, either: that single moment proved to be a mistake for Christina. The ogre swung again, letting out a howl, and though she leaped back at the last second, its massive hand still grazed against her stomach, sending her sprawling backwards—not five feet away from the travelers.

“Wh… what are you still doing here?” she grunted as she struggled to get up. Her chest was bruised; she could feel that much already. Hopefully no ribs were broken. “I told you… to run while you could.”

But if they had given any thought to doing so, the chance had passed. The ogre had fixed its narrow eyes on them, letting out a bellow that shook the leaves from the nearby trees. Arrows flew from the Rangers, but these failed to attract the creature’s attention. It took a lumbering step forward, then another, faster; arms began to swing. Christina propped herself up using Rosebite, and forced her legs to straighten. “Too late for that now. If you boys don’t know how to use those things hanging at your waist, now would be a good time to learn!”

With a howl, she plunged back into the fray.

[~Humphrey_Nonyton~]

Indeed, the creature was powerful. Humphrey to a moment or two to analyze the situation and hoped that the cathedral had sent him adequate assistance needed to destroy the Makai. It's an Ogre. Stuff of legend. The demon slayer grinned when he saw the creature start to run in their general direction. At the ready, Humphrey held his katana as he stood in combat position. His eyes were narrowed as he looked at the beast's own eyes. The Makai stared at the hunter, picking the kitsune out from the rest of the crowd. Then, as it ran towards the ragtag group of demon slayers, the ogre spoke.

"M-Makai Ssssslayerrrr....Enemyyyyy...."

Upon hearing those spoken words, Humphrey felt pride in his training. The blond woman was throwing herself at the Makai using military tactics that were not Slayer tactics. Humphrey smiled at the creature. "I am going to destroy you." The Slayer said carefully and then turned to his companions, eyeing Zack first then Ace. "Get ready, here it comes!" Humphrey yelled as he tensed his muscles. In the presence of the Makai, Humphrey's enchanted sword began to glow with a pure light. It was the enchantment placed upon the weapon back home in Akashima. The kitsune closed his eyes for a moment even as he saw the powerful fist heading his way.

The slayer did not move, he never faltered his position, he did not flee.

He stood his ground.

As the wind before the slayer abruptly changed, due to the momentum of the incoming attack, the slayer reacted. Using finely crafted Akashiman steel, Humphrey reacted to the big brute. There was a sudden flash of light as the sword moved, an extension of Humphrey's lethal training. Trained in Akashiman martial tactics, the Slayer was well prepared to hunt the Makai like the dog it was. When the sword flashed, the blade swung in an upward movement. It was a skilled maneuver, that intercepted the creature's fist.

Just when the fist was about to connect, Humphrey's sword met the wrist of the ogre. In a precise movement, there was a hideous sound as the hand was completely severed from the wrist. It was all due to the enchantments placed on the Slayer's weapons. The sword cut through like a hot knife through butter. Black demon blood sprayed about from the dismemberment, and the ogre howled in a mixture of pain, fury. Clutching it's stumped wrist in disbelief, the ogre looked down at Humphrey who continued to stand his ground.

"Slayerrrrr...." The ogre yelled again. "Slayer will die!"

Black demon's blood splashed across Humphrey's priest-garb. He would have to clean himself after the deed was done. Humphrey turned his attention to the blond woman.

"You!" Humphrey said carefully. "Cover me. I have a way to defeat this thing." Humphrey added. If he timed the next maneuver just right...Underwood would never know the serious threat that had nearly stumbled upon it.

[Zack Blaze]

Zack looked at his nails as he watched the action unfold before him. It seemed as though Humphrey would not need the street fighters assistance after all. He had two Corone Rangers, a mysterious blonde girl, and Ace all to help him conquer the Makai. He shifted his eyes towards the encounter, witnessing first hand the severing of the ogre's hand.

"Brutal,” Zack commentated on the fight. He kneeled down and continued to watch, grabbing a hand full of the fresh forest dirt beneath his hands. As he stood, he mashed his hands together, forming a ball of ground in the teen's hands. "Hey, Makai," Zack casually, said.

The Makai, not expecting to be called such, turned around towards the source of the voice. When he did, he was met with a clump of dirt right between his eyes. The monster screamed as it grabbed at its face with its good hand, trying to wipe away the stinging sensation on its features. So far, the ogre had lost a hand, and now temporarily lost its sight.

It did not care anymore, slamming a fist down to where Zack had called the creature’s name. The youth, however, managed to duck behind some trees during the pause that was allowed. Zack had bought Humphrey and the others some time to slay the foul beast.

Zack peered out from behind his tree, smiling as he saw the lost hand of the Makai...

[Knave]

Simple eyes and an expression of earnest astonishment settled on the face of Ace Mandelo as the makai charged. Ace took in the full image of the adversary and it shook him to his core, the very earth quaking under its rampaging weight, its indomitable spirit the inspiration of utter uncertainty. There was a daunting challenge in the creature’s stature, its limbs flexing as it galloped upon its feet and hands toward Ace’s troop. The hand resting on Pardolaess hilt grew tight, its wood creaking under his own sizeable strength.

The woman it had launched through the air only moments before was an afterthought, even as she staggered to her feet no worse for wear than before, and leapt back into the fight. Though her powers were rare they were not something so strange to Ace that he could not recognize them, a single brow raising itself as witness to her strife. Humphrey soon joined her, the youkai showing none of the fear that kept sane men safe and brave men alive. What a fine band Ace had found, half-willing to throw away life without tact or reason, could he have asked for better comrades? Better decoys?

The shape-shifter’s face was a work of art that reflected only his will. However, fear bloomed and burned cold in his chest, his pulse quickened heart hammering without rest, Ace stood his ground, none too eager to engage the enemy and dispute with him the prizes of victory and death. Just the same, Ace reached behind his back, and slid his hand under his shirt and the iron mesh of mail that would be of no use to him, fingers feeling for the weapon he trusted most. Black Mesa’s blade dragged at his innards, but it left clean and with a single pull, Ace drew it from the confines of his torso, an off-white short-sword that gleamed that caught the rays of evening and bleached them as it shone. It was a beauty, it was warmth, and it was a sick reminder of just who he belonged to, a shard from the shell of God that burned him even as it settled comfortably into his hand. Likewise, he drew Stolen Virtue; a dirk with the most pretentious half of its name carved into its blade, and set it between his teeth.

The battle was in full flux, and all those alive focused on the beast as it bellowed its agony at the severing of its massive fist. Ace faded into the background of the battle, his form losing its consistency, all definition lost but that of a vague outline and a mild blur. Even though he was little more than shade in a world light and darkness, Ace pondered his enemy as he drew nearer, his eyes roaming the creature for a weakness he could expose, a weakness he could capitalize on with the utmost ruthlessness. However, he found the sight painful to look at. As always his senses proved – to his constant, waking detriment – to be above par, he had nearly dropped to his knees by its anguished wailing, but to look upon it closely with any intent was to recognize its skin for what it was. It was the leathery form of a pig bathed in blood. Its flesh bunched at the joints into wrinkled folds with each motion of its joints. It was not so immune to weapons by virtue of its damnation alone. The scars of hard life, and vicious infections littered its body, and while they were shallow, cracks ran in small lengths over hard nubs of callous, rotting skin.

Unseen, Ace drew Pardolaess, the long sword exiting three feet of oaken sheathe cloaked in Ace’s aural anonymity, the blade drawn with the utmost care to keep the sword’s song silent. Approaching from the left, the shape-shifter existed only as a presence, a space filled with concrete unknown. His name, all of them, were starting to fade from his mind, but Lawrence could care less what moniker he claimed, this thing to needed die. How hideous, how disgusting, this is a mercy both hero and villain alike can dispense. Law’s fixation on aesthetic philosophy was in staunch, unforgiving objection to this creature. Nothing should be so ugly on the surface, no soul should to be so true to itself that it wore its rotting soul without shame.

It wheeled towards Humphrey, the sole center of its all-consuming enmity — there was nothing in the world it did not color in shades of loathing. That is not to say its consideration was a solid and unchanging thing, its nose… snout wrinkled as it breathed. It let out a breath of immense revulsion, and sensed something so akin to kin that it recalled the days of its childhood as a brooding. The fraternal instinct to kill which had followed it from the womb rising. Turning this way and that, it sought the source, but found only filth hurled into its eyes. Tormented by insects it wiped at its face, and arched its back as the scent drew impossibly close, and pain erupted from its thigh, hip, and back. Clenching the four dozen misshapen, outstretched fangs that its lipless snarl bared, it looked down to find something more than human had cut it. Not so grievously to harm, but nothing was underserving of death.

Pardolaess true to its make, and Ace with the strength of a man-and-a-half and more, carved a trench in the creature’s chitinous flesh, his blade lashing it with the abandon of those who are on the right side of surprise. Coming out of his swing, his illusory illusiveness dissolved, Ace’s body still turning as he brought the sword back with one hand to open flesh to the air. The Makai did not snarl nor howl no or recoil in agony as blades that could hardly pierce him cut at him. Instead, it brought to bear the vast horde of strength that swelled its limbs — a nightmarish power that inspired others to shrivel in terror at the sight of him— and with that might smashed the stump of its wrist down through steel at its enemy.

Ace, true to his own power and admirable guard held up his blades in a fine defense, his feet planted and his eyes roving for an opening to the next attack. Instead, he flew from his feet, and slammed skidding across the ground with the creature’s next massive strike. The eastern fiend’s blood coated Ace’s shirt and stained it black with the pungent ichor of something less alive than undead.

Unrelenting, the Makai struck again, paying no mind to its wounds as it stomped onward. Its blood flowed without end in caliginous, dribbling streams. It advanced, lumbering and looming large, it eclipsed the sky over its strange and soon dead foe, and to demonstrate the gross inequity between mortal men and immortal monsters it threw back its clenching fist to smite Ace where he lay.

Eyes never closing, his vision clouded with blood, Ace rolled head over heels and dodged the fist that sundered the earth where his torso had been. The earth shook, and Ace felt the blow in the air, a radiating shock that would have crushed the ghost from his corpse. He regained his feet wincing, blinking away the dirt from the spray. The Makai’s remaining arm swung out and low to snap Ace in half with its heaviest blow.

Survival demanded instant action, and Ace leapt and rolled to the side in a manner he had witnessed among acrobats and assassins. Tucking his legs in while airborne allowed the blow to sweep flat the grass without ripping him in twain. Gobbets of blood stained the earth red from what seemed to be an endless source of blood. Ace continued in his best efforts, but could only for the moment dodge and dive as the beast pressed him back toward the trees, a verdant wall to this arena. Who among this group could hope to outrun the creature through the dark groves of Underwood?

Rearing back, it kicked out a blow that would have left walls exploded and reduced people to pieces, if not for the soundness of his mind in the heat of battle Ace would have been little more than a blood smear painting many miles of the forest floor. Lowering his head and ducking his body, Ace continued his attack for the sole reason that all predators do when in common dispute, a spirit of instinctive, visceral antagonism.

In an instant, Ace released Pardolaess and snatching Stolen Virtue from his own jaws buried it behind the creature’s knee. Before the long-sword could fall, Ace spun, catching and dragging it through the air into a powerful arc. The blade never struck through, the Makai’s long triple jointed hand wrapped around Law’s , the monster not the least bit perturbed as lifted Ace into the air and examined him with its furrowed promethean brow, and empty black eyes.

“SUBHUMAN FILTH.” It said, its voice locked that nothing it said could be anything more than a brutal statement or piercing accusation. “I CANNOT READ YOUR EXPRESSION, I KNOW NOTHING OF HOW YOU SHOULD SOUND. TELL ME, ARE YOU AFRAID?”

Nauseated by his eyes, ears, and nose; chest aching from where a dozen bones suffered shock an near fracture, Ace still had the audacity to bare his teeth in a smile. “Let me tell you something…” He said, well aware that he might lose his arm, but unwilling to make himself any less a man or monster by being a coward in the face of death, “Appearances matter, if you don’t know when you’re ugly or someone’s laughing at you, you haven’t got a chance.”

“AMUSING.” The Makai said the usual reverberating overtones of impossible bass swelling with what many could call mirth. Whipping Ace through the air, it hurled him some twenty feet. Watching him fly, as an afterthought, the Makai plunged its fingers into the earth and drew forth a rock similar in size to a human skull, and so throwing it, struck Ace in chest as he rose, flew, and fell spinning to the ground.

[Christina Bredith]

Christina hadn’t the slightest clue where these travelers had come from, but she was glad the Makai had stumbled across them. Her attacks were proving only mildly effective against the beast’s leathery hide, while that—whatever it was—had taken off its hand in a single cut! The creature had called him a “Slayer,” so perhaps he knew more of these beasts than Christina did. She didn’t need another beating to see what her smartest option was: back up the fox-man and hope to all things holy that he could kill this creature.

“If you say so,” she called in response to the fox-creature’s request, and plunged back into the fray. I just hope you’re right.

Her goal, then, was to make sure the black-haired fox didn’t get smashed into paste by the much stronger ogre, and with a quickly-shouted order, the goal of the Rangers became the same. Briefly, the men abandoned their bows and arrows in favour of the bola snares they kept tied at their waists. These were thrown with expert precision at the beast, pummeling it with their heavy weights and tying up its arms and legs as best the flimsy things could. It seemed that the ogre had no sooner become snared than it had broken free again, the lines of the snares snapping or tearing against its strength. It was enough to slow its movements down, however slightly, and that at least allowed the Rangers and the strange travelers to avoid a few hits that might otherwise have been disastrous.

For her part, Christina was making the most of the burst of speed granted to her by Rosebite’s ability, placing herself between the ogre and the kitsune and darting around to distract its attention. Combined with flurries of quick slashes, leaving the ogre equivalent of paper cuts in their leathery aggressor, this proved quite effective until one of the peculiar young men in Humphrey’s retinue managed to sink a blade deeply enough into the Makai’s flesh to cause it to turn its attentions in his direction.

With its stump, the ogre made a swing for Ace, who tried valiantly—and, Christina was certain, foolishly—to withstand the attack with blades crossed. “Snare, Rosebite!” she cried, and as the beast drew back, vines exploded from the ground and coiled themselves around its bulging muscles. Those vines snapped with a flurry of loud cracks just moments later, but it slowed the blow just enough to keep Ace from being crushed into the ground, though his being flung through the forest was a poor consolation.

There was no stopping the ogre’s next attacks, either, as it went relentlessly, single-mindedly, after its newfound prey. The beast picked Ace up by the arm and tossed him through the air, and then bowled him over with a skull-sized rock just as he was getting up. Christina would later be shamed to admit that, rather than worrying about Ace, her first thought was to look in Humphrey’s direction and see if the fox-man was ready to take the Makai down at last. But that only lasted a moment, as she quickly turned to the other Rangers and ordered two of them to back up the fallen traveler and tend his wounds.

Using the last of her speed, Christina blurred around in front of the ogre, putting herself between it and the wounded newcomer. If their Slayer friend needed them to cover him in order to finish off this creature, then there was really only one way she could think of to do that. None of them were strong enough to actually stop the beast’s attacks; there was no real way to subdue it or slow its actions by more than a second or two, either. There was one chance, though. If only this brainless mass of muscles would cooperate!

“LITTLE FEMALE SHOULD HAVE STAYED AT HOME,” the beast bellowed in a voice that sounded like rocks being ground together. There was amusement in that, which only heightened the insult.

“You really know how to piss a girl off, you know that?” She thought the thing was grinning at that as it raised its arm for another attack, but she didn’t let it get that far. Overconfident as it now was, the Makai was right where she wanted it. “Shatter, Rosebite!”

A crimson gem flared to life and the blade broke with the sound of shattered glass into thousands of tiny fragments, hovering in a vaguely sword-like shape in front of Christina. The oddity of that was enough to give the ogre pause, an opening that she would soon make it regret: the cloud of shards, floating through the air like flower petals, suddenly lurched forward and swirled furiously around the ogre’s face, making only superficial surface cuts in its thick-skinned face and bony head, but dealing serious damage to the one place no creature could ever keep fully armoured: its eyes.

The Makai did howl, then, though from the way it moved she suspected it was less in pain than from the shock of having its sight removed. It flailed briefly, swinging its arm where she had been, but she was gone by the time the attack hit. It continued to pound the ground in slow, inaccurate fury, but it would now be much easier for them to avoid any serious damage at the ogre’s hands.

And just in time, too. Already the damage it had wrought was quite incredible. One of her Rangers had just barely managed to pull himself away from the battle and, she could now see, was bandaging himself up while hiding behind a tree. Two of the others were doing their best to tend to Ace's wounds, while the third was once again trying to have a noticeable effect on the creature with arrows at closer range. If this fight were to drag on for much longer, it was very likely that none of them would walk away intact.

“All right, foxy,” she called to the Slayer across the creature’s howls as the petals slowly reformed into her blade, “the curtain’s up! If you’re looking for an opening, this is as good as you’ll find!”

[~Humphrey_Nonyton~]

The Cathedral had chosen well. His companions all played their part like some twisted stage play being acted out in front of the Makai Slayer. Each of the brave warriors contributed to the battle, and when the beast had been wounded by them all, Humphrey's chance had come. In anticipation, the exorcist was already readying a Warder Rune. The slayer pointed skyward with two fingers as he chanted in silence, his halo flaring out of this body brilliantly. The fox's tail swished about with the sudden breeze that came as a reaction to the warder's power.

Focusing on revealing his sole purpose, the Makai Slayer accessed the secret teachings of Akashiman Spirit Warders. Focusing on the vast array of symbols he knew, he moved his fingers through the air and traced a very special symbol. Glowing with elemental energy, the blue symbol manifested in the air brilliantly for a moment or thrice.

Once the symbol manifested in the air, Humphrey grasped the symbol in his hand feeling the sacred warmth flowing through his body. The Makai Slayer suddenly ran towards the huge ogre's final rampaging moments. At the last possible second, Humphrey leaped through the air, katana in one hand, and performed a skilled slashing maneuver. He embedded the glowing steel sword in the shoulder of the beast as it swung around furiously sensing his sole enemy had cut him.

Humphrey hung from the grip of the sword with one powerful arm. His face still cringed up with the efforts of concentration. His warder rune burned in his hand now, and he was swung around forcibly like a rag doll. Perhaps by luck more thank skill, Humphrey found his mark. He touched the skin of the beast with his bare hand and exchanged the warder rune from his palm to the epidermis of the beast. It's howl was a mixture of fear and rage.

Where the symbol was burned onto the flesh of the beast, a powerful light suddenly burst out. It consumed Humphrey and the ogre for a split second filling the combat arena with it's warm glow. Humphrey still chanted in the ways of the spirit warder. When the glow receded, Humphrey stood over the beast, on top of it. He was still chanting. Using the secret exorcist technique, Humphrey finished releasing the power of the warder rune.

The ogre let out one last, mighty cry. Then, it's physical shell, even as it's leg was rotting as a result of Ace's attack, began to dematerialize into thin air. It's soul was consecrated in the ritualistic teachings of the warders. Humphrey still chanted and his eyes were closed as he lay the finishing touches down on the ritual. Thinking he done, the slayer made one last mistake. He removed his sword from the body of the Makai too soon, far too soon.

Even as the creature was sent to the lands of judgment, and ultimately, The After, the Makai's upper body got up in one last fit of rage. "Enemy!" It yelled, and swung at Humphrey with his remaining arm. The hit connected, and Humphrey was slammed to the ground, hard. He never got a chance to relish being the hero as he passed out from the pain of two broken ribs. The Makai finally did vanish, a few moments later, leaving scorched earth where it's body once stood. Humphrey looked at the particles of energy flowing through the air, whispered one last prayer for the soul of the Makai, and passed out. He was at the mercy of his companions now...

[Knave]

What do you call it when a man’s world upended becomes a place painted in shades of red, white and green ¬– colors exchanging places with such a dizzying speed that naming them seemed meaningless when they soon looked the same – and the air one’s lungs demanded kept trying to coat itself in blood as it left through the mouth or nose? You called it pain; Lawrence decided as he lay in the small trough the Makai had dug with Ace’s body thinking of rest when there was no great source of fear. A quick inventory of the shape-shifter’s flesh, periodic pulses of motion through muscle and bone, gave Law the idea of his condition that the creature senses of more natural beings would have failed to identify.

Ace now knew the extent of his damage, and the pay off from the Makai’s casual attack. He knew the stock of that grievous exchange. Three ribs had not so much been broken as shattered and passed around Ace’s torso, the fall had provided a wealth of problems from the fracture of numerous bones along the left leg, to sensation of air filling in that shoulder as the jammed joint began to swell. Veins ruptured beneath the skin were slowly closing to contain that bit of the damage.

Sitting up, his mouth agape as his lungs rejected the air it ached for, Ace made the show of grabbing for his side out of an instinct he did not have, the sensation that would have placed other men in tears present, but the expression and gesture simply an expression and gesture. The side of his shirt held the indent of that rock’s great impact, blood slowly welling up through layers of skin, steel mail, and cloth to spread outward. Lawrence allowed for the sight of blood, but for the moment, there was nothing now to do for the damage of that horrible stoning and fall.

In reflection, forgotten and assumed undone by all who assumed him human, Lawrence could only consider it the final fact of Ace’s character that if anything should do him it in it would be his own hot blood and surging arrogance. “But still.” He whispered, squeezing the bloody stain of his side, it had been so long since he had felt that kind of animal hate and human excitement. “Such shame demon hunting means nothing to me.” As these words left his mouth, they flecked every syllable with the blood he could hardly contain, droplets of red and black falling onto the legs of his trousers followed by more as coughing seized him, but even retching he returned to his feet.

When the last blows struck, and all the sins of weakness lay open and bare, Lawrence had to say that this experience would pay him well in humility, that most triumphant of virtues which could only be properly defended from one’s own knees. Having had quite enough of it, Ace brushed the filth from his body, ignoring the twinges and flares of pain and disorientation that oft tried to rock him on his feet.

The physicians approached Ace after leaching and splinting more broken men, their medical ministrations while meant in the most helpful manner looked at with scorn. “But, Sir,” A medic said through his timorous beard, the polite address little more than that,” you are injured, it would only be foolish to stand before nature’s most supernatural evil.”

Ace, for he was Ace to other men, smirked, and shrugged off the hand of a woman trying to guilt him with her concerned expression and blue eyes back onto back. “I came to do what I could, and I am not leaving until that’s been done.” He laughed; face twitching to reflect the incredible discomfort as his chest seized with that agonized rattle. “Besides, its one thing to live forever, but quite another to have lived a safe life while monster’s like that terrorize other people.”

“Just the same, crazed knave! What can you add to the damage and horror of this beast? What more can we lose, but you too?” The woman asked, her red hair a mess from the harsh winds of horse riding and frantic medical aid. “Ace, whatever you have to live for, whatever principles you uphold, or whatever you love most, would you rather lose it all fighting something you can’t win than set it aside?”

Never mind how she knew his name, it was becoming more common place in Corone by the day, but her points were all valid, and would sober even the most careless of souls. Sadly, Lawrence knew logic, and he knew himself. He had nothing to live for, nothing but a mission he could be replaced for. If he held any principle, it was to lie with consummate dedication. If he loved anything, it was a chemical dedication to a dark go –just another string that made him a puppet.

Sighing, he pushed on, his strength still present as he brushed them aside. Ace went back to the field of battle, calling over his shoulder the best reply he could to their attention, “Its talk like that which makes you medics, its things like this that make me a warrior; we want the same things, but how we go about it makes all the difference,” he lied, “Give your help to warriors who can’t stand or attack, not one who isn’t done fighting.”

Limping, but gaining speed, face bebloodied, hair filmed with dirt, he was not a heroic figure, but he struck the eyes as one who had taken his loss to stand again and in passing, he took up Pardolaess’ from where it had stabbed and stood ready in the earth.

A readiness unneeded for anything other than return to Larwence’s hand. The fighting was over, the Makai undone by the very sorcerous nature of its own make, Humphrey upon his back exhausted, Zack still hidden in the forest making full use of his cowardice, and the swordswoman busy tending to her men.

Passing by the smoking ground, and sensing little else but the Makai’s soul fading into that familiar oblivion which awaited those without souls, Ace sheathed Pardolaess, and taking a knee peered down at the fox. “You know, that was probably one of the most annoying fights I’ve ever been in,” he said, playing off the damage as he whipped at his face to clear away the evidence of his trouble, “but you made this look easy, if you’re ever holding classes, be sure to let me know when you’re handing out secrets.”

Ace waited for some weary response, some labored reply of thanks, or some reaction at all, but it seemed that Humphrey’s belabored breath, and the loss of his fur’s sheen were no sign of simple and momentary exhaustion. Aggravated and annoyed, Ace smiled down on Humphrey beginning to beam like the sun, and desperately wanted to smack him awake for daring to be so weak when he had suffered so little. It was a sort of mercy not to stab him, but well aware of his company and condition, Ace tentatively checked the youkai for wounds, and finding none left him to the care of physicians as he went back to that grave and pulled from the ground the halberd that had fallen from the Makai’s fading flesh.

[Christina Bredith]

There was a flash of annoyance on the faces of the Rangers as Ace belittled their status as warriors—for there was no man, woman, or child among them who was not worth his salt with a spear, blade, or bow—but that flash was nothing to the bright light that filled the forest at that moment, bathing the combatants in a harsh glare. Christina, one of the closest to the blast, shielded herself as quickly as she could, but even when she sensed the light dying down, she could see nothing for the discoloured lights dancing in her vision.

Those, too, faded with some effort, but what remained was disheartening. The kitsune was standing atop the fallen Makai, blade embedded in its thick flesh, but the monster struggled and fought anyway. Could that attack really not have been enough? If this strange man, with his strange abilities that were so potent against demons, couldn’t kill the Makai, then what hope did the rest of them have? No; there was no use thinking like that. It looked weaker after his blow. It didn’t seem able to stand up, for all its flailing, and even that seemed weaker and less directed. Maybe they could take advantage of this. She switched to a two-handed grip and steadied her legs for another attack. When it stopped lashing out, she would go for the neck and finish it in one blow.

But the chance never came. The demon slayer was thrown back through the air by the force of the ogre’s last hit, but after that, the forest was still again. Nobody moved. And the destructive monster they had come here to destroy… vanished. There was no more evidence of its ever having been there than the destruction it had left in its wake and the weapons that had become embedded in its body, now lying in disarray on the forest floor in testament to the dozens who had died in trying to defeat it.

It took a moment to process exactly what had just happened. “Well,” she said at last, breathlessly, “that was fun. We should do this again some time.”

With their prey vanquished, the rest of the Rangers fell into their support training, dealing with those present who were injured. Humphrey got the attention of the two who were previously trying to splint Ace, and Christina consented to have her earlier bruise looked at. There was little they could do for such a wound in the field, though, and she would be able to heal well enough from her injuries later using Rosebite’s abilities, if she could find a good patch of sun—which should not be too difficult, given the swaths the Makai had torn through the forest.

Turning to address those of the travelers who were still present and still conscious, Christina pressed fist to heart and bowed. “It was lucky we ran into you, strangers, and especially your friend there,” she said, gesturing at the fallen kitsune. “Underwood owes you a great deal. I am Deputy Christina Bredith, and on behalf of the Corone Rangers, I thank you as well.

“I’m afraid we can’t offer you much for your assistance,” she continued, “but hopefully the town will be able to do more for you.” With a chuckle, she glanced at the multitude of weapons on the ground and nodded as Ace went to collect one for himself. “I think the ogre has left more than enough of a reward for us, though.”

Turning over her shoulder to address the other rangers, she ordered, “Let our friends here take what they like and then bring the rest back with us. I’m sure we can make use of most of these.” There was no shortage of need for new weapons in the camp, and though these were hardly in the best condition after having been lodged in an ogre’s flesh for days, they could be mended and polished up quite easily. Christina had no use for them herself—Rosebite was the only weapon she needed—but the Rangers could make very good use of whatever the travelers had no need for. It looked like a very nice haul, and it would have been a shame to let them go to waste. Besides, if they didn’t take them, passing bandits no doubt would, and the last thing Concordia needed was to hand free weapons to the rogues wandering its hidden depths.

The Ranger tending her wound was sent to go fetch the horses once he had done what little he could, which left the others to tend to Humphrey until he returned. Once the travelers had been given their choice of weapons, the Rangers loaded the rest into the horses’ packs and got them ready for transport back to the camp.

“You four get the horses back,” she told the other Rangers, mounting her own, a chestnut-coloured mare bred for great speed, though she had a set of sturdy legs on her as well. “I’m going to see that our friend here makes it back to Underwood in one piece.”

“Underwood?” Julian said, grunting through the pain of his cracked ribs as he was helped onto the back of Lin’s saddle. “You know we can’t go there!” There was no denying the truth of that: she would have to avoid any imperial patrols that might be near the city, but they cared little for anything other than the town itself (and that only because it used to be a Ranger stronghold) and the main trade roads branching out from it, so the risk was fairly low. Besides, with no horses among the travelers, it would be difficult for them to get Humphrey back to civilization, and there was no chance of leaving them here until he recovered enough to wake up. They’d be picked apart by wolves or bandits inside of two hours.

“We aren’t going anywhere,” she corrected, waving off the boy’s concern with a smile. “I am, and only as far as to make sure they reach the town safely. It’s hard to say there are worse things in this forest than ogres, but certainly not far from. We owe them that much, at least.”

“Just be careful,” a Ranger named Lin said with casual, and not unfriendly, condescension. The elder redhead was always mothering. It was as though she expected Christina to get into some sort of irresponsible trouble!

“Aren’t I always?” she responded, and chose not to notice her companion rolling her eyes in response. She was much too cheerful for that! “Now, could someone please help our furry friend onto my horse? The sooner we’re all home with a strong mug of ale, the better.”

[Zack Blaze]

Zack had watched from a safe distance, providing little to the fight while watching the more capable warriors handle the threat. After the Makai had been taken down, the youth slumped down against a tree, sighing a breath of relief. If the ogre could have gotten its hands on the teen, Zack had feared a lot more damage would have been done than simply the throwing of his body across the field. Luckily, such things never came to be.

The group had seemingly forgotten about the street fighter, probably chalking the whole disappearing act up to cowardice on Zack's part. It was better this way, he could head back to Underwood before anybody else and claim the prize that the church offered for the death of the Makai. Patting his pocket as if he had already gained the money already, Zack smiled. The brief fantasy was dissipated when Zack heard the sound of a few twigs snapping to the east. He stood, and walked over to investigate, careful none of his 'team mates' saw him through the underbrush.

Zack's smile widened as he saw a prize more valuable than gold simply lying among broken limbs and bent grass. The hand that Humphrey had cut off early into the fight sat as if it were a golden chalice to the boy. He walked over and picked up the big thing, a smile on his face. He remembered something that Humphrey had told him on the first steps to their adventure. In order for the Makai to be fully exorcised, every part of him must burn in the flames.

Zack brought his hand to his chin as he looked at the hand, wondering how he could use this information to his advantage...

[~Humphrey_Nonyton~]

(Conclusion post)

Humphrey's body was easily manipulated by Christina. Ace's words would have to wait for another hour, another day. Surely, if Humphrey would have heard those words, he would have taken the fellow up on his offer. Without much to say, the kitsune was taken to Underwood, and, to safety. The mission had proven to be a success. At the gates of the town, Humphrey was met with several guards who recognized the honourable kitsune exorcist. They thanked Christine and took the body of Humphrey into their custody to be returned to the church. There, after several weeks of recovery, Humphrey opened his eyes at last.

He found himself in a bed in the cathedral with the watchful eye of Father Kadmus. Humphrey looked into the honey-hued eyes of the elderly human. He was of stocky physique clearly from Yarborough District origin. Humphrey felt weak from so much slumbering. Father Kadmus ordered one of the nearby hand-maidens to assist Humphrey into a seating position. Humphrey growled softly. He noticed the tightness of his breathing, his ribs were bandaged up with heavily reinforced medical tape. Humphrey felt the extent of his injuries, both external and internal. He had suffered a great deal more than he had realized when the Ogre had struck him.

"The Cathedral has confirmed that the creature was exorcised." Father Kadmus began. "You have earned your reward well. That fellow that you teamed up with, Zack, I believe his name was? He came by a few weeks earlier to collect a reward. We offered him one. He seemed pleased. The other fellow, Ace, kept asking for lessons. We figured it would be best if we waited until you were awake once more to confirm or deny his requests at tutelage in our arts." Then, Father Kadmus's face became quite serious. "You have done this town a great service, young one." Kadmus said. "You have earned your rest. The Ogre is not a beast many would face on their own ground."

"Master Kadmus..." Humphrey said, still, pain reared its ugly face. "The creature...it possessed a strength and endurance that was uncanny. It smelled not of this plane." Humphrey struggled against the pain he felt. "It felt like it was from...the other world. Haidia." Humphrey remembered reading about the alternate realm in the teachings of his people. He did not like the implications of what he was saying.

Father Kadmus' expression became more severe. "There hasn't been any activity from Haidia in many years. Since Salvar crushed the demon-folk..." Kadmus suddenly reacted as if he were stabbed in the back. "Salvar...it is possible that the event could have been government propaganda from them and the true enemy has been in hiding." Kadmus said. "Salvar can not be trusted." Father Kadmus tapped his broad chin. "We must prepare in secrecy for what is coming. The Empire will not readily ally themselves to Underwood. We are alone and without hope for reinforcement." Father Kadmus said carefully. "But you, young one, you possess the torch that will light a brighter tomorrow. There is always hope." Father Kadmus smiled for a few moments. "Rest now." He placed a hand upon the kitsune's forehead who immediately relaxed.

"Master Kadmus..." Humphrey said carefully. Humphrey knew his place, but he still had earned himself a valuable item. "The object I was promised, have I earned it?" Humphrey asked, trying not to step on any toes or offend.

"In spades, Acolyte Nonyton. Along with another matter. It will be waiting for you when you fully recover."

***

The hour arrived when Humphrey's strength finally returned in full. To survive such a blow from the Makai, Humphrey was either very brave or very stupid. Either way, Humphrey was dressing himself on the day that he recovered. A nurse-maid approached Acolyte Humphrey with some food and drink, his first meal in ages. Humphrey was starving. Humphrey saw a small chest in his room that had a noticed addressed to him. Father Kadmus's reward from the cathedral. Humphrey did not care for the pagan deities that the folks in the cathedral worshiped, for he had his own deity. However, that was not important. What was important was that they were all devoted to the causes of the devout and pure. Humphrey opened the chest and could not help but smile when he saw the glowing contents inside.

Inside was the object he was promised. It was a small stone that a passing Akashiman left in Underwood about a century ago. It had finally returned to Akashiman hands. Humphrey knew there were many such objects hidden throughout the lands of Althanas. He felt compelled to collect which ever ones he could find. Hidden with the contents of the chest was also a small pouch, and a small scabbard that contained a ceremonial athame. (Dagger) The dagger would be useful for ritualistic workings. The acolyte also found a book in the chest. These items would all be useful to a man of the cloth as he was.

Though he did not follow the pagan deities of Corone, Humphrey was a man of the cloth none-the-less. His service to The Incarnate, would be remembered. Humphrey took a small parcel from the chest, sealed with the symbol of Father Kadmus, and began to read the letter quietly. Contained within the parcel, was Humphrey's next set of instructions in servitude to the cathedral. After all, Althanas was in an age of darkness, and many creatures lurked in the shadows. The Makai were only one face of the great evil. Humphrey held the stone in his hand as he read the letter from Father Kadmus. It was an invitation from Father Kadmus to join the ranks of Underwood's elite Demon Slayers...

Remember Father Kadmus's words about Ace, Humphrey went to go seek Ace out if he was still present on the cathedral grounds.

***

Spoils Request---

001-Church Payment-A job well done. Humphrey has earned a small payment of 300 gold pieces for his services to the Church of Underwood.

002-Gold Athame-An ornate cathedral dagger. This dagger is very beautiful and has a small, three inch gold blade. It is double-edged and typically not used for combat, but, ritualistic purposes. The small scabbard is equally decorated. Symbols favored by the cathedral of Underwood are etched upon both blade and scabbard. Neither possess any special powers. The dagger is very valuable and cannot be sold. It is a ranking mechanism given to members of the cathedral at the lowest rank.

003-Book of Cathedral Law-A small book that has the precepts, code of conducts, prayers, psalms and other written works necessary to an acolyte of the church. This book is a recently printed volume. It is a modern incarnation of the old pagan worshiping druids of Concordia Forest. The book, by itself, contains no power. It is simply a daily reminder for the followers of the cloth.

004-Soul Stone-A mysterious object. It is a small, red stone that contains a mysterious power. When used, it can suck the soul of a fallen Makai, that has been properly exorcised into it's structure for future use. The owner of the stone may apply his alchemy skills to use the soul of the Makai in his constructions. However, the use will be limited to an Acolyte to one soul per item forging. The applications are numerous and vast. (Note for use with Humphrey's Alchemy skills)

[Christina Bredith]

“So it’s dead, then.”

Christina nodded her head at Marshal Vardy, unusual for being particularly young for a Marshal but no less hard because of it. She had been called before the Marshals to report on the demon situation in southern Concordia, and she was pleased to be able to tell them that it had been resolved without further loss of life. The two Rangers that had died before Christina’s involvement were a heavy price to pay, but the butcher’s toll could have been much higher.

“And do you have any reason to believe this was something other than an isolated incident?” Marshal Yavis asked, off to Christina’s left. She was a dignified-looking woman in her golden years with a reputation for being one of the strictest—and harshest—Marshals in the force.

There, Christina’s gaze faltered. “I can only hope so, Marshal. The demon slayer lost consciousness after the battle and hadn’t awoken by the time we reached Underwood, so there was no chance to question him.” In fact, days later, their agents in the town were suggesting that the kitsune still had not awoken. She hoped he had survived the encounter; if this was not isolated, then she prayed he would still be around for the next one—and that she would not.

“Very troubling,” Yavis said, and the others mumbled their agreement.

“At least the beast compensated in some small way for the trouble it caused,” greying Marshal Osland added in reference to the sizable stock of weapons the Rangers had received. They had all been embedded into its flesh, and from the look of it, there had been a great many warriors who had tried to destroy it before they finally succeeded. It was better not to think about that, though; the numbers were too cruel.

The people of Underwood would receive some compensation too for the loss of life they had suffered. She had made sure that her share of any potential reward would be distributed to charitable—and Ranger-friendly, though the two were mostly synonymous—organizations within the town. Though given by the church, the money had essentially come from the Corone Empire, and she would not take a copper penny’s worth of that if it was the last thing between her and starvation. It seemed fitting that the people of Underwood should take it instead; after all, they had suffered a great deal at the hands of the Empire, and it was not about to compensate them for it.

“I recommend that we tighten up our patrols, Marshals,” Christina put in at last. “Keep them focused around the camp, the major roads, and Underwood itself. I don’t want to lose any more of our men to things like this.” Well, it wasn’t really her place to want anything where the Marshals were concerned—they did outrank her, after all, and never mind outnumbering her—but she was fairly well established as marching to her own beat after all these years. Besides, it was not a sentiment any of them could possibly disagree with. “I think that their first course of action should be to get away and inform us as soon as possible.”

The Marshals nodded in their turn. There was no sense in asking the Rangers to fight these creatures if they encountered them again, at least not without proper preparation. What they should do in such a situation was less clear. Retreat and inform the camp, but then what? Well, with a little luck, they would never have to answer that question, because she certainly couldn’t think how.

“Then go inform them, Deputy,” Marshal Vardy told her. She pressed fist to heart in a salute and then turned out of the tent to do exactly that.

While announcing this new policy to the rest of the Rangers that night, Christina couldn’t shake the feeling that this ogre was not a one-of-a-kind beast. What were the odds, really? The words she told the men rang fairly hollow to her: they would preserve lives, which was her one and only goal, but what would they do then? Hope to stumble across a demon slayer every time a gigantic monster appeared in Concordia? It was a precarious balance between the uncomfortable feeling of not knowing enough, and the assurance of doing what was necessary. It made her uneasy, but she knew it had to be done.

But that night, after everyone had gone to sleep, Christina was in the camp’s training grounds pushing herself harder than she had in months. If another creature like that ogre ever darkened Concordia’s boughs again—and she hoped it would be “if”—then she would be ready for it. The kitsune’s intervention had saved them once, but only a fool would count on it a second time, and that was one thing Christina Bredith could never be.

No spoils requested, per se. Any weapons that the other guys didn’t want, she’s had donated to the Rangers, and any money that would have been hers has gone to the people of Underwood (in her name). I don’t know if it’s possible to request a little extra experience in lieu of a reward, but if so, then cool. If not, that’s also cool. :p

[Knave]

For all his ability to lift the halberd, and perform the rudimentary swings with hand to gauge its weight, Ace was still forced to use one hand. The halberd swept low across the earth, its blood rusted blade swaying lush grass with its passing and with an effort that cost Ace nothing more than pain enough to grit his teeth, and he brought it up high stabbing towards the sky before swinging it down into the earth to rest on the earth to act as some grim crutch. The sapwood of its shaft, pressed at it was against Ace’s body, spoke of long months of spent within the flesh of that sinful behemoth. In coloration, what should have been young in terms of wood was dark, and the core and heart of that weapon could only be that much darker.

For what it was worth, this venture had not been to Lawrence’s benefit. For all his intent to do that fell beast its final injury, he had been wounded, and allowed some lesser—a scrub—to take the lead…a scrub whose power was designed for nothing less than stealing victory from that demon and all who would oppose him. Ace hung his head the effort to restrain his weariness not worth fighting, red hair matted with what could have been either sweat or blood, and turned a smile of admiration on the thing he pondered with resentment and ill-will, not a will to expressly punish sooner or later, but to spite at the first opportunity and when it was most advantageous. The shape-shifter however, had better things to—

“Are you done?” The medic said, shrugging her satchel from her shoulder, the medical implements of her trade clattering to announce the arrival of a number of number of blades and drugs; drugs which might numb the mind and blades that could sheer the bone. Ace cast a reproachful look at her, his beaten form a sorry sight though the blood was an aesthetic choice of fashion, something he wore to suit the moment and play the part. Dedicated to the illusion, Ace sighed in defeat.

“Not much left to do.” He said, hanging his head and sinking to the ground to prop himself up against his only trophy. He looked as if her attentions were inevitable, something he couldn’t escape with all the strength still left in his body, and waving her over, turned his face up to the august sky now dark with evening’s final hour. “Do you worry about everyone who runs toward some hideous end? Or just those silly souls who catch your eye?” He asked, weariness all too real wafting up from his blackened soul. He watched her jaw tighten, thought she would scold, and then saw her relax as she seized his shirt and eased him out of it with the aid of his upraised arms.

“You think you know what you are.” She said, catching his attention with some new deviation from what Ace had come to expect from those around him. When he moved to speak, she ignored him and continued over his replies, “For all that bravery, you haven’t got half the strength to back it up.” She said this as she lifted the chainmail from him, and pried his hand away from the ribs she feared broken, and he knew were little more than bruised…she was still right. “For what strength you have, it’s more than most, but you’ll never reach the ranks of any arena’s champion.” Prodding into what she thought was pulped flesh, the purple depression of flesh and skin painful to the sight, she looked into his expression and saw something more akin to resentment than agony. ”You’ll be dead before then.”

Sensing he had faltered, astonished more that he was doubted for all his aural confidence and bewitching glamour, Lawrence ended her line of thought with only a few words: “You’ve never seen anything like me before.” Out of ear shot from most anyone with ears enough to hear the wicked reverb in his tone, Lawrence issued his opinion to her, all dissent was a mere echo in her mind. “I’m fine, and you’re wrong, more wrong now than you’ve ever been in your life.” He was pushing for control, pushing beyond linear expression.

Living outside legends means compromise and reason.

The medic, Aristenna, met the odd change in tone with a raised eye brow, unsure of his intent, but unthreatened as she felt from broken bones she felt should be there, little shards of rib in places they shouldn’t be. Even if he was talkative, he was hurt, and she couldn’t return what might have been anger or abuse toward a patient. No matter how much he ignored his injuries to live a life toward hallowed glory. “You’ll learn or you won’t, but living outside legends means compromise and reason.” Aristenna furrowed her brow, feeling the bones turn and shift under her fingers but no break could be found.

A body without a soul.

“I live to disagree.” Ace said, his voice pushing the point as he pushed aside her hand, and caught her eye with his, brown eyes calling with the kind of desperation that appealed to extremes of emotion, heroics, and vice, calling things unreasonable the hallmarks of sanity... they were darker by the second, the loss of light suggesting some depth with greater meaning. “A life of compromise leaves a body without a soul.” To the touch, he had been weary and cold, but warmth surged at his touch, and his heart beat faster to contradict the weariness that had marked Ace as one for rest instead of more strife. “Don’t tell me a surgeons hand goes limp at the first sign of a struggle.”

She pulled at his fingers, instinct weakening her grasp, but she couldn’t name that sensation, later she would think of it fondly, and name it so many pleasant things, none accurate for that nameless, utterly spiritual, coercion. Resting his hand on his lap, forgetful to pull hers away, Aristenna urged him to rest and told him he was too injured to say silly things. Ace true to form inspired at all times some emotion, when he arrived it was confidence, when he fought it was daring, and when he could hardly stand it was a magnetic pity.

Beginning with a chuckle, and leading with lies she could only know were true, he kept her gaze as if she were in his hands and not the other way round. “Silly? Maybe, but pride provides—“ No act, Ace paused to breathe, the strain of this conversation compounding the beating prior. “Not in simple relief but resolve.” The power to speak and be heard, to communicate his message to the soul, sifted through the ears in little whispers to echo louder in the mind than the air through which it had been spoken. “You’ve called me a knave,” he said, drawing her into an illusion he lived, “thought me small for chasing vain glory, but I know good from right though, and I’ve spent time enough seeking sin to know where virtue lies.” His quiet fervor would have been holy had it come from a priest.

“And where is that?” She pulled away from him, retreating to her bag to her bag for alcohol to disinfect the wound Aristenna couldn’t understand—if she had had more training and proper corpses instead of books she supposed she might be done with Ace’s diagnosis. At the least Aristenna would know whether she could set aside her concern for his condition, whether that is cause for wonder or tragedy, good health or grave. She settled on a bottle alongside the cloth wrap, the contents of that vial the sweet yellow of honeyed morphine, though the more this conversation went, the more she remembered the smell, the casual scent of Radasanth’s opium became a phantom in the air. It was bitter sweet, the scent of self-destruction.

“In shackles of restraint.” Ace said, closing his hand over hers as it sought to silence him, she was insistent, his grasp felt so weak…but why couldn’t she move it? Ace felt a new surge of weariness welling from the use of his weakest skill, but his hand never trembled, and taking in one breath in shaking breathes he grimaced, his teeth bared in a predatory smile, he told her he had no need to be healed, “I won’t be subdued, not by drugs, not by pain.” Without taking hold of his weapon, never daring to need a crutch, Ace stood, and with quiet insistence pulled Aristenna to her feet.

Taken aback, unsure why, some sense of remorse forced on her without reason or any consent. She blinked, her expression remaining unimpressed, but when she opened her mouth to speak, he gave her a piece of his mind. “If there is any nobility left, it’s out here where wild magic makes war.”

There was a something between them in that moment, a casual understanding, wherever Ace was going it would be a place of strife, he would die there. She wanted to see it, not as some paltry spectacle, but something grand that reminded her there was more to the unknown than simple terror. “Just sit down!” Still an experienced hand at medical care, Ace having expended the last of his strength standing, she forced him back to the ground, and settled for antiseptic and bandages. “Whatever stupid feelings you have about life can wait until you can breathe without shaking legs.” It was not playful, or angry, and they both new it. Only ane anxiety to see what would happen next that surpassed love of country and home. Something all too human. “We’ll see about your silly adventures then.” She could not say when it had become we.

They would make their exit, no bold declaration of change, preference, or declaration would be made between Aristenna and her compatriots. Pausing for Ace to insist on taking on more token from the Makai’s horde, she would help him home, see him in the afternoon when he played ill, watch him in the arena to see him fritter away his life, and when he would leave Corone they both knew there was some great chance that they would part ways.


Spoils:

Mauvaisia: A rusted spear composition is as follows: A redwood was felled not long ago, and from its heart the shaft was carved, seven feet in length, two inch diameter. Its scarred surface has lost the polish and freshness of its birth as a fighting weapon, and the wounds that mar its supple wood are wounds of steel suffered with indomitable strength. At its bottom, it is fitted with a counter weight shaped in the form of a thice pronged bronze flame, and at its head is a blade that flares outward from the head of the wood, and down from its tapered tip to form something of a hand guard. It has a massive bronze spearhead too large for mortal men to reliably throw. It is a spear of combat, a spear of war. It possesses no special powers of any use, but it radiates the aura of a clearly dead demon, and those who have the power to sense evil will find it hard to distinguish the ambiance of this weapon from the subtleties of Lawrence Spades.

Ten feet of chain: The total weight of thirty pounds speaks for the strength of this addition to Lawrence's inventory, in length it is a simple ten feet of thick rusted links.

One Human Being: I'll be adding Aristenna to my familiar list, she'll serve as a medic of moderate skill with an education that leaves no one wanting more than herself.

[Zack Blaze]

Zack had been planning on taking credit for the defeat of the Makai. As a matter of fact, the youth had managed to beat his group to the church, a feat Zack chalked up to his being unharmed during the scuffle. He had gained his reward, and in a bout of kindness, informed his employers of the help he had during the brutal fight. To add to the effect, the teen had plastered smudges of red across his face, a faux shade of blood made from mixing and thick red goo with water. He had also dug his nails into places on his body that would be less painful than others, causing several scratches to also skim the surface of the fighter’s body.

He was given a monetary reward, and upon payment, made his way back into the forest, where he had originally found the severed hand of the Makai. After several days, the warrior began to watch the body of the beast slowly start to reform from the single limb. Humphrey was right, without the hand being burned with the rest of the body; the Makai was not properly exorcised. As such, the beast would regain his powers, albeit at an incredibly slow rate. In that time he would be exposed, weak, and ripe for the picking.

Several more days past, and soon, the entire body of the ogre was formed, his eyes closed as if he were in some sort of eternal slumber. When the Makai opened its eyes, it sat up and scanned its surroundings, finding Zack Blaze leaned up against a tree reading a book, oblivious to the world. The Makai stood, clenching a fist as he began to piece together what had happened, preparing to assault one of the soldiers who had slain him. He stood, taking several steps towards the boys, steps that rattled the nearby trees and should have, for all intents and purposes, alerted Zack. When he was within arms reach, the Makai threw his fist towards Zack, planning to mash the boy's head into pulp.

"Byica eh ouin ahtayjunc."

The words reached the ogre's ears, and for some reason, he could not bring his fist into the body of Zack. The teen closed his book, now revealing the cover to the beast. Makai's eyes widened as he pulled his fist back. He stood there, unable to attack Zack Blaze for as long as he knew the correct incantation.

"What do you want?" The Makai asked, Zack walking around the beast with a wry smile upon his features. He tucked the book underneath his arm, and brought his hands together. He rubbed his fingers against one another as if he had planned something truly sinister.

"Muscle. I can fight hand-to-hand, but I don't have physical strength. Your power levels are dramatically low right now, but I do not doubt that you could take my head off if need be. Therefore, I have an offer to make,” Zack walked to the front of the Makai, making sure to look the abomination straight in the eyes as he did so. "I save your life, so you serve me. Once your power is fully restored, I will release you from my captivity. Is that understood?"

"What if I refuse?" The Makai spoke, his words much more articulate than in their previous encounter, another perk granted by the spell book Zack held.

"Drah Tea Cmufmo."

The ogre fell to his knees, gripping the sides of his head. His skull felt as if it were slowly expanding, threatening to rip through his battle hardened flesh. The beast shook his head profusely, falling face first into the dirt. The dust cloud created from the impact did a good job of adding to the dramatic flair Zack was going for, puff of brown smog surrounding the 'frail' teen.

"STOP! IT HURTS! I'LL DO IT! JUST MAKE IT STOP!" Zack could clearly hear the beast's pleads, the tinge of pain bordering on crying. It was a sound he enjoyed. It was the sound of someone begging for their life.

"Cu meja,” Just like that, the pain was gone, and the Makai gained his composure, standing up straight. Zack continued wearing his smirk in a sort of 'I warned you' sort of fashion.

"I am called....the Makai."

"Then Makai will do," Zack said, as if using an extra word was an insult to his being, "I am Zack Blaze, your temporary master, and Althanas has absolutely no idea what it is in for now..."

((Spoils:

NPC Makai: Makai is an ogre Zack procured during an operation with Humphrey Nonyton. The beast is loyal to Zack and Zack alone, and has -2.0 x the speed of a normal Althanas warrior of level 0, but 2.0 x the strength, as well as a 1.5 x defense. Makai is only used in quests, and Zack feels he's too much of a liability in the citadel.

Makai's Spell Book: A book Zack bought with his reward money for 'slaying' the Makai. This text will allow Zack the knowledge for controlling the beast by telling him the words he needs to say to make Makai obey. Never used in a citadel fight, this is obviously a quest exclusive item.

I request no GP to explain the buying of the book. In fact, go ahead and take all of my money away to compensate for it.))

[Zerith]

Hunting Makai...

As I usually do, I’d like to first apologize for the wait the four of you had to endure and say that I really appreciate your patience. After going through the past few months staring at numbers everyday (all thanks to doing taxes for people), doing a judgment here was a nice change.

But now let’s go on to what you guys really want. The actual rubric.

As always, feel free to contact me if any of you have questions.


Plot Construction: 18/30

Story: 5/10 – You guys have all written threads here before, so it’s obviously no surprise that this story had the key things any good stories needs. While reading the thread, I felt like one of the major troubles with this thread was the rising action. The introductions between the characters took nearly as long as the actual fight against the Makai. It was as if the characters were like, “Hi Ace? I’m Zack. Looks like the thing went that way- Oh there it is. LET’S FIGHT!”

Now don’t get me wrong, I know that nobody really likes a thread that just goes on and on without any sign of a conclusion. The point I’m trying to get across is that I think you guys could have at least done something with a initial encounter where the heroes are forced to flee only to regroup and come back with a vengeance. Instead I felt like you tried to sum up the thread in three stages which would be the introductions, the fight against the Makai and the conclusions. Yes, there were hints that there could be something deeper going on behind the scenes, but I think it was lost underneath the premise of having this Makai be some sort of boss battle.


Strategy: 7/10 – You four were pretty solid here in my opinion. I knew right from the start that Humphrey was going to be the one with the least amount of trouble harming the Makai, while Christina’s use of Rosebite and the other Rangers was clever and was appropriate. I will admit that I had a little bit of difficulty trying to see where Ace fit into the progression of the story, but that quickly disappeared when his fight against the Makai was underway. As for Zack, well I wasn’t exactly sure what his purpose was in the story. He mostly seemed to be just a minor, secondary character for the entire thread. In fact, I don’t think he had a major impact on the thread until the very end where it was finally clear he would get something out of the experience. Once I read your profiles, everything clicked.


Setting: 6/10 – The setting was straightforward. At first I had to draw a mental map while asking, “Okay, are they on a road on in the forest”, but by the time I was on the second page I had a better understanding of where the characters were. Your descriptions of a forest after a ogre trampled through it were logical, trees uprooted and a creepy silence from the other woodland creatures. My questions though are don’t you think the group would have hear commotion from various birds getting the hell out of dodge when an ogre approached? Or don’t you think that they could probably even hear the thunderous sound of it marching through the bush long before it roared at them? A few weeks ago I was challenged to close my eyes for a minute and write down everything I could hear, and afterwards I was surprised with just how much I had written. The point I’m trying to make is that setting is more than just visual things, obvious roars and booms of thunder one can expect to see in a story. Even little details can make big differences. Knave’s mentioning of the wind and how it feels is a good example of this.


Characterisation: 17/30

Continuity: 6/10 – I knew where the thread took place according to the lore, and knew how it fit into the current cannon in Corone (mostly among the whole Rangers/Empire thing). Yet I was still scratching my head at a few things. Firstly, I thought Haidia was no more, or at least evacuated only to become something known as “Haide” on the surface of Althanas? I could be wrong; maybe the whole idea was scrapped. I am fairly certain that it wasn’t a whole other ‘realm’ though, more just an underground region at one point. Either way, mention of it was big enough to stop and think “Wait, that isn’t right. Is it?”

To be honest, I felt like it was Christina that did the best job of establishing how this story would affect Althanas, Especially when it came to Underwood and the Rangers. While I wouldn’t say it was enough for me to want to get involved in the Empire/Ranger struggle, it was certainly enough to catch my interesting. As for Humphrey, you played with the role of the Akashiman Warders. I just feel like there wasn’t enough information presented to catch interest. My suggestion would be to try and see if you can find any from the past.

Interaction: 5/10 – Your characters are definitely willing to accept recruits without questions asked. I mean don’t you think it was kind of off how they were so open to accepting the help of one another? Wouldn’t you be a little wary if some kid approached you and claimed he was working on the same job you were but was just hired before you? Or if some guy just waltzed out of the woods and introduced himself, wouldn’t you be a little confused? I know you needed to get introductions done, but it seemed unnatural. Christina’s acceptance of the others was justified due to the simple fact that there were in the middle of fighting the Makai. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” right?

While most of the interaction came off as uninteresting, the parts in Christina’s first post and when Knave spoke with Aristenna where some of the few I found interesting. Humphrey and Father Kadmus was another close example, even if it really sounded like an ending to a game of D&D.

Character: 6/10 – You guys have been playing on Althanas for awhile, so it’s not really surprising to see that you know how to play your characters. Christina and Knave were the ones I had the easiest time understanding how they came to make their decisions, although I did have a little trouble picturing Knave at first. Humphrey’s physical description helped a lot here as well. However I’m afraid to say that other than the that, the fact that he’s a kitsune, a warder and somewhat spiritual are the only things I really know about him. I don’t know what you have planned for him, but I suggest mapping out future events for him and how his character is either developed or changed. As for Zack, I have a small understanding of what you want to do with him in terms of long term goals. Yet I don’t think this thread really did anything for him. Like I mentioned earlier, he was more of a secondary character that ending up getting what he wanted out of the encounter in the end.



Writing Style: 19/30


Creativity: 6/10: Christina’s intro into the story and how she fit in was a nice difference from the other three and the frequent use of NPC’s both in the fight and out of it. So while it was the four major characters against the Makai, I couldn’t help but be reminded that they technically didn’t do it alone. Knave’s (in my personal opinion) writing was the most well written, the way it sounded when I tried to read part of his aloud seemed to flow well, almost like poetry in some sections. Humphrey, you’re writing is unique in a way. To the point where I just had to read your first post and I knew who you were. Even Zack’s more short and straightforward style was recognizable. What I’m getting at here is that while you all have your own, unique styles of writing that I’ve come to be able to identify. I feel like some of you didn’t really try to improve or develop anything. I’m not complaining, I know this thread was all about kill the big ugly thing and being heroes. But as a reader, I didn’t feel like I learned anything about writing from this.

Come on guys, teach me something new. I know you can do it

Mechanics: 7/10 – Mostly solid here with the occasional typo here and there. Humphrey had a few spots where sentences would have flowed much more nicely through the use of comma’s and I think Knave got tired or excited near the end, as he was typing the same word twice (Such as “to her bad to her bad”, or “she had had more training”) I know I’ve done it numerous times as well, so it’s something we both need to keep an eye out for.

One thing I want to briefly mention, Humphrey, is the use of “it’s” vs. “its”. It’s is a contraction for “it is” or “it has”, while its is a possessive pronoun. There were a few places where you used one instead of the other, such as.

“
It's soul was consecrated in the ritualistic teachings of the warders.”

A good way to fix things like this is to try and replace it with “it is”, or “it has”. If it doesn’t fit, then you know it should probably be “its.”

As always, try to edit just before submitting like Christina did. Yes, I noticed.

Clarity: 6/10 – I didn’t have too much trouble reading the thread, though I did have to reread a few section during the fight. I also felt like the small part with the ogre in the first page was a little distracting and mostly used just as an excuse to get straight to the fight. The fact that you chose not to have a basic posting order was a little distracting as well, especially during the fight and trying to figure out who was doing what. The part where Zack was told by Humphrey that the entire Makai needed to burn also threw me off. I even felt compelled to go and try to confirm it. Other than those issues I was able to type the majority of this immediately after reading the thread.



Wild Card: 5/10 - Despite the fact that the story seemed to be clumped into sections and that it really appeared to be more of a boss battle that anything else, it was a overall enjoyable thread. My major suggestion would be to have a posting order when doing something like this again just to make it easier to sort out what is going on during the chaos. Other than that, thanks for the read guys.


Final Score: 59!!


Rewards:

Humphrey_Nonyton receives 720 exp and 300 gold from the clergy. He also get his spoils pending approval by one of the RoG mods!

Zack receives 700 exp and his spoils, provided the Makai gets approved by the RoG mods. He also loses all of his gold in order to pay for the book.

Knave receives 850 exp, the new weapon, some chain and a new human companion pending approval at his next level update!

Christina Bredith receives 970 exp!! Any weapon she would have obtained go to the Rangers and any of the Empire’s coin goes to the city of Underwood.

[Silence Sei]

Exp-GP Added.