Eiksalt War Round 2 Multi Battle: Chapel

[Silence Sei]

This match is between Max Dirks, Zack Blaze, Ruby for the MizBiz-Order side against Amber Eyes, Dein, and Lorenor for the IK.

Matches will begin Tuesday, May 13th at 12:01 AM Central Standard Time and last for two weeks. Good Luck!

[Ruby]

A goblet of wine as ever rested in Ruby Winchester’s palms. Tired, sweltering, and fatigued beyond compare the red headed matriarch found solace in its red hubris. Shiraz grape, aged over decades, and yet somehow youthful and buoyant on the tongue.

“You seem awfully calm,” observed an aide. Bland cloth and curls, a young woman of no note now permanently burnt into the spell singer’s memory. She added a wistful ‘m’lady’ to avoid a faux pau.

“You seem awfully still here,” she replied bitterly.

Putting an end to their afternoon frivolity, Ruby waited for the girl to depart. Clicking of heels was seldom a good omen in the woman’s life, but for now, she let the sudden swell of silence in its wake ease her aching temple. She was not sure if wine or world aisled her so.

“Was there any need?” a sullen voice enquired.

Ruby turned. The room she was in had one window overlooking the courtyard, a singular door leading into the cloisters, and an empty but symmetrical pleasantness. She curled her lips into a half-smile half-frown and set her gaze on the portal opposite.

“Give me one good reason not to flay the skin from your body.” A stolid sip from the goblet set the question further tilted into madness and malicious intent. Her eyes continued to bore through the left edge of the portal, to the man cowering beyond. Wisely so, for her wrath was becoming swift infamous on the island of Eiskalt.

A youth stepped into view with a polite bow. Pale, lithe, and no physical threat at least, the spell singer drained her goblet and tossed it to one side. It vanished before it hit the stone floor. She tapped the polished vestiges of Eiskalt piety with her right foot, folded her arms, and waited for an answer.

“You would be doing away with your one solitary ally in this god forsaken place.”

Ruby smirked. The wordsmith, Ozoric Newalla, already knew how to bring a smile to her face. A smile on her face, in particular, was as good a thing as a deal maker. Lips moist, stomach full, and head clear advanced. Clerical endeavours might have done away with fierce debate and plotting in the chapel of late, but now, beneath braziers and tapestries burning bright with Eiskalt pride…an unlikely council convened for war.

“Tell me more,” she goaded. Taught bosoms and piercing condescension circled the soldier. “Your proposal, I must admit…,” she sighed. “It leaves me wanting.” She was in the mood for a game, yet felt sadistic to wish to play it with the dragon of all people. “Will the Knights go with the plan?”

Ozoric nodded. His silence only served to lure Ruby further into compliance. He had bested better devils than the red head in his short years. To him, this was no game. Ruby Winchester’s bristling anger and malleable loyalties were a problem Ozoric Newalla had long since solved.

Beneath a cowl of black hair and behind a wall of tattoos talismanic a defiant in nature, Newalla calculated three moves ahead. The chamber, a reflective space for the nobles seeking sanctuary salient echoed with intensity. Grey stone. Sunlight streaming through the window yonder – mourning relative in the aisles behind, and encircling him like a foolish carrion bird, a Phoenix foul.

“You seem sure.” She narrowed her gaze further. A deep breath cauterised her wounds; not flesh tears, but mindful desires undoing her form. “Two weeks since the outbreak, the death of your beloved Valakut, and the betrayal of Tobias Stalt must have given them pause for thought, surely?” Two weeks was a long time indeed for circumstances to change. It was a long time of desperate people to become feverish with need and craven want for change.

Ozoric broke out of his metaphorical bonds and made for the window. His pallid form began to dance with the sunlight, heat swirling in his wake as thermal cognition and draconic progeny pursued him. He looked out across Eiskalt, its city calmed finally after the poisonings. A breeze, tepid and cooling against the heat of indoors touched his cheek.

“They remain convinced you have betrayed them, Mrs Winchester.” He closed his eyes. The loss of one sense sharpened the others. He reached out and touched minds with those Valakut that remained. They roared their readiness back through the shadows. His skin goose bumped by way of acknowledgement. “You may pursue your ‘plan’ without hindrance.”

That was the entire and simple truth spell singer needed to hear. Before Ozoric realised the silence signalled her sudden departure, she was long gone into the maddening confines of the chapel corridors. The dragoon stared long and wistful at the rooftops of the city, lost in thought and inquiry. He rested a digit on his chin, regal and royal in stance and sternness.

“Just as I will pursue mine,” he said softly, when his own company was deafening. He ventured out into the sun, and leapt from the balcony to the unwelcoming stone below.

[Max Dirks]

Dirks stood discretely at the base of a row of pews, appearing to direct Lords and Ladies of Eiskalt to their seats. He wore traditional Ixian formal robes: white, accented with silver and gold with a long blue tassel identifying him as an usher. This was not the first time Dirks had worn Ixian garb and though the narrow fitting robe prevented him from donning his prevalida short swords, his twin Beretta 950’s were holstered safely to his chest.

The plan was simple and the fact that Kyla was willing to put so many “innocent” lives at risk in order to achieve her objective proved she had already surpassed her father as a master tactician. Three days ago, the ruling family of Eiskalt, the Icebreakers, and the Ixian Knights arranged a marriage between Monte Icebreaker and Lady Avigail Stent of Serenti in Corone. This marriage was tactically sound for two reasons. One, it provided an exit strategy for the Ixian Knights. Though deaths were minimal so far, Madison Freebird’s poison was having a profound effect on troop morale. If the Ixians became stretched too thin and were forced to reduce their forces, the Stent family of Serenti (known for financing the Serenti Invitational, among other vices) would lend their assistance to Eiskalt to protect their daughter. Second, it would bait Zack Blaze and Misery Business into action. Dirks said nothing about the poison, but Kyla knew that Misery Business was playing a wait-and-see game against the Ixian Knights as the plague slowly reduced their numbers. She knew inaction essentially meant death. The wedding was the perfect front to provoke an assault, as Misery Business would be stupid to allow this union to occur.

As he scanned the room, Dirk’s eyes fell on Kyla. She looked absolutely stunning in her ceremonial dress. Since he mostly interacted with the battle worn Orlouge patriarch, Sei, and his tomboy goddaughter, Dirks often forgot that Mystics were a race of living angels. Kyla certainly looked the part today. Though Kyla looked pure in her white garb, the lighting was such that she cast a dark silhouette upon the wall behind her. The shadow, like the dark energy within her, was begging to escape its confines on the wall. Kyla’s silhouetted hair appeared to be made of serpents and her manicured fingers appeared as claws. A smirk appeared on Dirks’ face. He had no doubt that if Zack Black showed up at the wedding, the sinister phantom trapped within Kyla’s psyche would obliterate him.

In the distance, there was a short horn. It was a signal from the Ixian general, Lorenor, that all guests had arrived and they were sealing the doors to the chapel. After a few moments, the patrons stopped stirring and took their seats. Monte Icebreaker finished a conversation with his aunt Ashla Icebreaker and moved to the center podium. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Dirks took his position at the back of the chapel near the final pew. After a long moment of silence, a violin began playing and in unison the entire chapel rose to its feet.

Dirks is in the chapel. I'm going to assume Ruby's actions happened before the wedding began. PM me if this doesn't work

[Amber Eyes]

Every hair was in place, every hem the perfect length, every guest seated by those they would best converse with. The bride was immaculate and her flowing gown was sure to be the grandest thing anyone had ever seen. The groom was a nervous wreck, but holding it together with a bottle of ale and the words of his father in his ear. Kyla Orlouge was a mess. On the outside one would see poise and grace, but inside every possible negative outcome raced through her mind. She absently moved from room to room, greeting guests and ensuring all the tiny details were handled quickly.

"No, dearest Raphiel, I don't believe I've met your sister. It is an honour. Please be sure to stop by whenever your travels take you near Radasanth."

"Jenn! Please fix that flower arrangement! The people of Eiskalt will certainly not appreciate a decaying flower in the midst of such a grand event!"

"Why of course Miss Ashla should sit in the front. How silly of me to have missed that! Please, Jenn, ensure that she finds the appropriate spot."

"I don't care who you have to move!"

The wedding was not her idea, yet Kyla could easily see the practicality of the union. Still, it was not in her nature to plan grand affairs, there had always been people to do it for her. Here, in Eiskalt, things were simpler. Each day was not filled with the finery the wealthy in Corone were used to. Kyla was fighting fires with a wine glass.

The girl breathed a sigh of relief as the horn sounded. Now it was out of her hands. The ceremony would go on with or without her. She took a step back into the decorative curtains that lined the walls as the music began to play.

[Max Dirks]

With such little time to prepare, several traditional elements of the wedding ceremony were skipped. For example, there were no bridesmaids or groomsman. The mother and father of the bride were also absent. However, the Icebreakers did manage to find a pair of toddlers to be the flower girl and ring bearer respectively. They led the procession as the violin played a traditional Coronian wedding march.

After the children were halfway down the aisle, Lady Abigail Stent appeared in the entryway. She was unaccompanied except for a lone handmaiden carrying the tail of her dress. To Dirks, the Coronian maiden looked absolutely stunning. Whereas Kyla possessed the pure raw beauty of an angel, lady Stent appeared elegant and regal. Despite the half-assed wedding and the fact that her loved ones were not present, Lady Stent carried herself with the dignity and poise of a queen. She was clearly a product of high blood.

As Lady Stent passed by him, Dirks caught a few more nuisances of her beauty. Her brunette hair was pulled back and laced with freshly bloomed flowers. Their pollen looked like glitter sprinkled through her locks. Her face was somewhat hidden behind a vale, but Dirks could tell she had well defined cheeks and a short nose as well. Finally, unlike her future husband, Lady Stent’s skin was tanned from the sunlight of Corone. For a short moment, Dirks wished the Ixians had offered him up as the groom instead of Monte Icebreaker. It had been far too long since the criminal had been with a woman...

When Lady Stent finally joined Lord Monte Icebreaker at the podium, Dirks came to his senses. He briefly looked to Kyla and frowned as she disappeared behind a curtain. Hopefully, she wasn’t having second thoughts about this plan. Though the shadow lurked within her psyche, so did the teachings of her father. Sei Orlouge would sacrifice himself before putting an innocent person in harms way. For the Order to emerge victorious in the war, Zack Blaze needed to die and Kyla Orlouge must be the one to kill him. Dirks could not allow her to be compassionate. The shadow must be unlocked.

The wedding proceeded without incident, but Dirks could not shake the feeling that something was amiss. Then again, it could simply be the tension of the moment. Perhaps Zack Blaze was really just a street fighter with no knowledge of the intricacies of war. Maybe he did not understand the implications of this wedding and how it would drag out this war. Yes, it was certainly possible that Blaze was just a blonde haired buffoon. He did name his group “Misery Business” after all.

Regardless, if Blaze was going to try something he needed to hurry. In only a few more minutes, the wedding would be official. In preparation to conclude the ceremony, the priest called out to the congregation, “If anyone out there has any reason these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace…”

[Zack Blaze]

(Teleported from Courtyard)

Almost as if he wanted the priest to say those exact words, Zack Blaze appeared before the crowd. Rather than make some spectacle of tearing down doors or something gaudy, he instead popped in directly between the bride and groom. He wore a green cloak over his face, the hood pulled down so everyone in the room would recognize his features. It was an intricate part of his plan that they knew (or at least, thought they knew) what was going on.

He grabbed Lady Stent and dipped her as her veil unfurled and revealed her peah like complexion. Her makeup had been applied in an expert fashion, just the right amount of powder to make the light illuminate her delicate face. He could smell her perfume, a mixture of roses and lilacs that made what he was about to do all the better.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to the nobles while his eyes scanned the room. There were loud gasps from the few unremarkable people in the room. Zack even thought he heard a scream from the priest. Stent’s eyes were wide with shock, but what took her sudden intruder by surprise was when she pursed her lips into his. Zack Blaze never thought of himself as a good kisser, but the proof appeared to be in the pudding.

He leaned back and stood the almost married woman back up, a smile on both of their faces. “That was almost as good as it was last night. Glad I could get that in one more time before you got hitched! Seeya!”

Zack vanished again with a laugh that echoed in the halls and left all present with a sudden silent awe. The boy reemerged at the door of the chapel, his face still a beam of joy and his hand raised up as if to bid adieu to all the witnesses of the event. Stents own smile was interrupted by the sudden rage from her groom. Zack’s word were more poisonous to the couple than any sort of fist he could strike Kyla Orlouge with. He stood at the doorway, relatively unnoticed as the ‘glorious day’ began to unravel around him.

Let the political strife begin.

[Amber Eyes]

The crowd was silent. For all of twelve seconds. They ticked slowly by as Kyla did her best to formulate some sort of plan. Everything was on the line and all the Mystic could think of was punching the snot nosed brat's teeth in. Zack Blaze was becoming more than a simple pest. He might actually be a problem. As he disappeared from sight Kyla did the only thing that came to mind. She held out her hand and called to his shadow.

There was no time to think, the spell was useless without another person to send the shadow to. If she chose someone from Corone or Eiskalt things might get deadly. There was no one she could trust.

Then her eyes found his. Max Dirks sat patiently awaiting...something. The Mystic held her hand out as the tip of Blaze's shadow reached it and shot it toward the seemingly innocent gunman. True it seemed he was on the other side in this war, but with Max Dirks things were never that simple. The gunslinger was never loyal to factions or objectives and he had thus far kept her safe. She took a deep breath and hoped like hell she hadn't just sealed her fate.


The crowd broke into a series of murmurs, growing louder and louder with each passing moment. Something had to be done, and it had to be done now. "Ladies and Gentleman! I apologize for the interruption. I'm sure the wedding will continue shortly..."

Shouting broke out at the alter between the groom's father and the bride's handmaid. The picturesque woman ran from the room with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"For now though, please make your way to the dining area for Hors d'oeuvre!" Kyla's voice was unnaturally cheerful and high pitched, and she spoke faster than usual. She swallowed hard, "Please stick around! The day is not over yet!" Someone was marrying into the Icebreaker family today, even if it had to be Kyla herself.

As the men and woman began to rise Kyla rushed to the back of the chapel and grabbed Max by the hand before disappearing into the shadows.

[Ruby]

“You call this a wedding?” Ruby spat.

Seated halfway back on the right side of the chapel, Lady Winchester and her husband tried very hard to look engaged. War was having an overbearing effect on people already, without the added melodrama of false trivialities like this. All the same, they were sovereign people on the altar, and dues needed to be paid.

“Ruby, shut your pie hole,” Leopold chided.

Scara Braen twang and Slavic drawl bickered in hushed tones whilst the wedding congregation shuffled towards the promised food. When the stalls echoed in wake of the drama, and silence began to descend, the Spellsinger changed her tone. Plans plotted well, and the spidery threads of her maddened plan for retribution tightened.

“We need to find Max Dirks.”

Leopold, dressed to the nines in his military attire (from a military life he had not lived for centuries, but still very much liked the benefits), rolled his eyes. Sullen, sunken orbs glistened as he tried to work out what Ruby was up to in recent weeks. Of late, they had both become distant, parlaying only with their own company and not sharing in the matrimonial spirit in the least. For that, the merchant was grateful. Whatever she was up to, she in Eiskalt paled in comparison to his endeavour to kill a Thayne in Berevar’s bitter banquet of blame and blizzard.

“Why?” he asked, shrugging with charisma stitched together only with the palling care of a sobering man. He looked around the stolid hall in search of his next tankard’s whimsy.

“Because,” she said, with baited breath, “he’s up to something.” Whilst there was conviction in her voice and fire in her eyes (literal and metaphorical), Leopold was suddenly afraid. Max Dirks, though a petard, was not the sort to plot. At least, not the sort of man to plot against the people trying to do the right thing.

In red dress and ruin, the Spellsinger rose and skirted her husband before he could raise his hand to stop her. She marched, incendiary steps each one of her strides, out into the last trails of the congregation. Leopold sat silently for a few moments, pulled out his emergency hipflask, and drained it. Vodka, from Salvar but frozen thrice in Berevar calmed his nerves.

“He’s a man,” he said to no one in particular. A cocksure grin struck his face, illuminating the mischief he carried as masque. “We’re always up to something.” He turned. Heavy hobnails hammered the flagstones and carried the merchant after his wife, and into the ever-burgeoning throngs of betrayal, backstabbing, and not-sure-why-we’re-hearing.

[Max Dirks]

The next few moments were a blur, but not because of Zack Blaze’s jaw dropping twist. Dirks actually found that rather entertaining. No, time began to race when an unknown energy suddenly flowed through the criminal’s body. Along with the power, he suddenly felt as though he’d acquired an unnatural intelligence. Psychology, criminology and forensics instantly became common knowledge to him. Dirks smirked. With this knowledge instead of the world’s most renowned criminal, Dirks could be Althanas’ king. Dirks shook his head and dropped to his knees. These thoughts were illogical. What on Althanas had happened to him?

Before he could figure out what was going on, Kyla rushed over to him. She was shouting something, but Dirks could not make out what she was saying. The Mystic general took his hand, but Dirks swatted it away. There, in the chapel’s entryway, stood a grinning Zack Blaze. “He’s there,” he whispered to Kyla, but she had disappeared.

Still somewhat shaken, Dirks stood and began to stumble towards the street fighter. Not only could Dirks see Blaze’s body stiffen as the criminal walked towards him, he could feel it. As the two locked eyes, Dirks knew exactly what Blaze was going to do. In unison, the two threw their left arms at one another. However, it was Dirks, not Blaze, that shot a blast of static electricity across the plane. The bolt hit its mark, sending the street fighter into the wall and filling him with 10,000 volts.

But Dirks knew Blaze was in no distress. Many of the volts from the taser blast were absorbed by his headphones. It would not hold the street fighter for long. Dirks had to act quickly. His body was beginning to adjust to the additional powers and he was not as sluggish as before, but he was not quite up to speed. Instead of reaching for his guns, Dirks reached into a nearby floral arrangement, pulling a round bulb and a handful of needles from the bottom of the pot. Dirks immediately threw the bulb to his right. Then he threw the needles at random people. Surprised, they dropped to the ground as they were struck. That’s when Blaze recovered from the blast.

Dirks' eyes locked with the street fighter's, then suddenly he looked toward the rolling bulb. “Oh shit,” Dirks mouthed, turning his trajectory to the right. Dirks was no fool. He knew that as long as Blaze had that teleport stone, he would simply escape once more. Hopefully, Blaze would be fooled by Dirks' sleight of hand long enough for Kyla to act.

“Kyla, now!” Dirks called out. If she were around, she would see the people around Blaze drop as he passed by them. Hopefully she would interpret their responses to the needles as attacks from Blaze. It was quite the gambit, but maybe she would be more willing to use her powers if the patrons seemed dead. “Kyla, you must end this war now before he kills anyone else!”


Kyla used Shadow Swap on Blaze, but gave the powers to Dirks. Dirks acquired Blaze's High Voltage and Mime abilities. He used high voltage on Blaze and is currently attempting to trick Blaze into thinking the random bulb is the teleport stone to stall him and his trying to trick Kyla into thinking Blaze is attacking wedding guests. Bunnies were approved!

[Lye]

These three advance: Max Dirks, Amber Eyes, Zack Blaze

These three are out: Ruby, Lorenor, Dein

Reasoning:

The content and clarity was strong overall. Lorenor only posted once and the writing lacked the pacing the other four had down. Dein never posted. The hard call came down to Ruby and Amber Eyes. Ruby had a back seat to the action and plot which had almost developed into something more. Another post would have allowed the real meat of the story to bloom. Technique wise, Ruby had some advanced usages of alliteration, stylistic fragments, and a few interesting metaphors. Some sentence structure flaws detracted from the flow of the read. This may have been using different rules of English Literature, but caused difficulty in comprehension. Amber Eyes had sound content at the root of the action. The shadow stealing scene was a little difficult to follow. Her posts were also thick with passive voice and hindered reader engagement. Overall, her posts held more emotional passion, tension, and suspense. Mechanics were also spot on with only a few errors in comma placement. In comparison, Amber had the slight hand over Ruby.

Max Dirks and Zack blaze both used strong active voice. Their posts engaged the readers and moved the action. For Dirks, the final scene with the bulb was a little unclear. Initially I pictured the bulb as a root of a plant and Zack's stone as a smooth object. The logic with that confused me, but it may have been poor reader translation. Dirks also had a moment that jarred the reader's perspective when he "knew" Blaze would be able to recover quickly because of the headphones. This also may have been an error by the reader not keeping up with previous posts, but still jarred the flow none the less. Zack's posts were clean. The only real issue lies in the believability of his actions. Though not realistic in nature, Zack did well to pull the reader more into Zack's persona and charisma and less into the fact he could blink in and out of existence.

Well written content by all writers.