Pilgrimage Through the Mad City

Pilgrimage Through the Mad City
Date of Scene:	02 July 2014
Location:	Great Painting of Ariamis
Synopsis:	Several members of the Union escort a young woman and her bodyguards through Undead Burg, but it does not go as planned.
Thanks to:	Priscilla, obviously, for being the GM!
Cast of Characters:	13, Staren, Priscilla, 75, 168, 183, 253, 283, 395
Tinyplot:	The Dark Souls TP I Don't Know The Name Of

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Priscilla has posed:
As always, the abandoned township known only colloquially as the Undead Burg is covered under a wall of sullen, lead-gray clouds. It's the middle of the day, but already the air feels damp and heavy, and the sunlight that manages to breach through the steely veil is weak and watery. The sound of roaring wind and thunder can be just barely heard from miles and miles away, carrying an unnerving, rumbling undertone up over the dizzying cliffs and through the city streets. Though the entrance chosen to meet is in a different location than before, it matters not. The climbing ivy and moss reaches all the way to the highest rooftops, choking the stones everywhere one looks. The utterly colossal wall that hems the town in from the cliffs at its edge casts it shadow across half the city, which will only grow longer as the day progresses, lending a sense of urgency to the gathering.

Roughly the same number of people wait at the entrance as before, however much like the group prepared to meet them, most are barely familiar faces. The most outstanding candidate is a young woman in ecclestial robes far too white for having been travel wear, flanked on either side by burly, loutish young men clad in bulky half plate and wielding equally oversized maces. The head of the guard here is a tall man in some kind of lammellar; his face completely hidden behind a 'uniquely' sculpted mask. A weedy boy just barely old enough to be considered an adult almost vanishes amidst his compatriots, saddled down with an enormous bag; its pockets bursting with books and scrolls. Thankfully, Priscilla is present too, making the situation with most of these people being total strangers to those gathered a little less difficult. Unfortunately, the air as one draws near is unbelievably tense. Apparently, finally introducing herself had gone over just barely within acceptable ranges. Everyone is too busy being silent and awkward to offer a greeting.

Chris Rothschild (283) has posed:
This time, at the very least, Chris is wearing clothes to suit the weather! A much more warmly-dressed hackmage comes through into the Burg, and though his hands are shoved in his pockets, at the very least they are particularly well-insulated pockets! And they're well-insulated in more ways than one, for that matter; he's gone and layered some simple enchantments on his choice in clothes this time around, working with his inherent element of metal to give them a protective hardness the equal of light, flexible armor.

The warm, protective clothes, however, fail to prepare him for the awkwardness he steps into. As a result, he more or less freezes up as soon as he gets a look at the group, glancing between Priscilla and the young lady in robes. "I, uh. Um. ...Hi?"

Psyber (253) has posed:
Psyber doesn't have much experience in this incident yet, but he does know Nathan keeps coming back from them incredibly injured. And also that they seem to be Priscilla asking for help. These two facts alone have brought him out here again. He's not openly carrying any weapons, but he's likely not unarmed.

Mostly his duty and actions right now involve helicoptering around Nathan Hall, making sure the librarian does not get himself in distress.

Milla Maxwell (13) has posed:
Things have been relatively quiet in Rieze Maxia, allowing Milla more time to discover how the Multiverse works, and how its people like to act. She has, of course, made absolutely no headway whatsoever in that direction because people (in general, especially humans) are weird. Really weird.

So of course she also has time to get involved in things and offer her aid. Just because her world MAY have a crisis to deal with doesn't mean other worlds couldn't use a hand too, and somewhere along the line she supposes it is equally her duty to try and protect other worlds where she can. Or at least, help.

She arrives, wearing her usual clothes (see desc). Those spiritually inclined can tell there are four great presences floating about her, as though the manifestations of a world's elemental forces. Unlike Chris, she does not freeze up, that would require being able to feel social anxiety. Or to know what it even is! Milla simply forces a smile on, trying to take her mind off the sorry state of this world.

"Hello. I don't believe we've met before," she says equally to Priscilla and the others, namely the young woman. "I am Milla."

Ezio Auditore (75) has posed:
The Undead Burg is certainly a hike, but Ezio Auditore always appreciates a challenge. He seems to just climb his way there after a trek via warpgates, before he joins up with the gang gathered at the entrance. He recognizes, Priscilla Rothschild and Psyber, nodding to them and Milla as well when the woman enters his gaze.

Gunblade attached to his swordbelt, it's today that he puts the weapon through a real field test of Irving's forging skills. "Safety and peace, everyone." He bids, bowing his head to Priscilla in particular.

Amalthea (395) has posed:
Do you all know what Amalthea has been doing for the past few days?
Taking a break.
Somewhere along the line she must have picked up a fair amount of paid vacation time or something and just... Cashed a few days in. Between incidents with a loudmouthed grimoire, a failed beach day, a few batterings and a lot of cursing, some time to wind down is kind of necessary. But it can't last forever.
The group is soon joined by the armored form of the mithril mythic, decked out in the regionally appropriate garb of the deep blue surcoat and steel armor of an Astora knight as she comes trudging up behind Chris 'New Kid' Rothschild.
"Ah geeze, this place is as miserable as I remember it."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
Mizuki's approach is quiet. Unnoticeable. A few of the less observant members of the group may not even see her approach, but alas, she got there. Somehow.

The self-proclaimed 'curator' doesn't quite know what to make of the Undead Burg. At the very least, though, it feels... a bit stagnant. Old. It's quite funny, really. As the bizarre young lady approaches the only one of the present figures that she actually remembers - albeit vaguely - she could swear she doesn't feel any less like she's inside a painting than she had the last time. She can appreciate that, though. Gloom. It makes for a very thick and enthralling atmosphere, and she gets the distinct feeling that, at the very least, today's antic will keep her... focused. It might save her life, even.

Though her reverie can't last too terribly long before she has to greet people. She curtsies once in Priscilla's direction, then in the direction of all others. One for the non-Anon, one for the rest. Something transcending the understanding of all others - Mizuki's bizarre intuition, of course - tells her that she probably shouldn't speak yet, though. So she doesn't. Both out of respect for the oddly charged atmosphere created by the people standing around in awkward silence and... well. For the world as well. Now is not the time for words and pleasantries - Mizuki is observing. She takes a breath. Yes, yes. This world is art, too, and she intends to bask in it for as long as she can before things get 'exciting'.

Because they always do, you know.

Staren has posed:
Staren arrives, well, ready for trouble. His armor looks similar in style to Reploid armor, but a bit bulkier since it's worn rather than built in. Curved plating, consisting of white helmet, breastplate, gauntlets, codpiece, and tall boots, with slightly thinner, sea-green armor on the upper arms, upper legs, and belly to allow mobility. Five small discs on the front of the chestplate serve as forcefield emitters, and a noticeable but not quite bulky enough to interfere with movement 'backpack' unit holds the armor's power source. The helmet has a transparent, pale blue visor. There's been a slight change to the armor's style -- squarish bulges have been added to the back of the left forearm and behind the shoulders, and a pair of cylindrical bulges have been added to the sides of the right forearm, and three short slits on the back of the wrist. Huh.

Hanging at Staren's side is his trusty messenger bag of holding -- for combat, it's inside an armored cover and secured to his side by clips on the armor. And of course, integrated into the suit's left arm is a certain brass-colored gauntlet, segmented with five armored wires running up from the base of the gauntlet to the knuckles, bracer-style plates on the back of the arm and hand, and a blue crystal eye situated behind the wrist, about where a watch would be. The Abstractum, Eureka.

On the bright side, full environmental powered armor is appropriate for /any/ weather. Rain will not be a problem. Staren casts a curious look over the assembled group. His visor retracts, and he offers a smile and a wave. "Hi! I'm Staren." His allies get friendly nods. "Priscilla, it's been awhile."

Nathan Hall (168) has posed:
Nathan Hall is here. He's all business, as if he's ever anything else. His arrival comes from the warpgate near Firelink Shrine, and the dude is just hiking his way most of the time. Hopefully he'll have some friends to cover him, because the undead around here sure do love repopulating the burg, even in cleared-out paths.

"I will keep the briefing quick. I will be using the precision mapping that Ainsley graciously provided to optimize the route to the bell. Please let me know about any inconsistencies in my directions; we have yet to see illusory walls, so if I direct you into a wall, it is probably my fault." Nathan says to the group, urgently fiddling with his communications device but completely monotoned and blank-faced as he speaks. "Amalthea, as per the norm, please draw the majority of the attention and damage, since you have the highest endurance and defensive aptitude of those here. Chris, as before, I ask that you work to support Amalthea and keep her safe against the inevitable undead assault, as it will doubtlessly be as substantial as the last time. Watch out for a red man. Ezio, I have mapped out routes for you to take over the walls and rooftops of the local urban area; please follow them and report groups and formations of Undead, and assassinate any you can."

"Psyber, Mizuki, I need you to handle our more immediate needs of direct physical damage. Each of you have some substantial swordplay power, Psyber in sheer force and Mizuki in precision. Please cover Amalthea and take out targets at your discretion. Milla, I require you to handle wide-area elemental effects where possible, and Staren, please provide more direct single-target effects optimized to elemental weakness, as the two of you are our most effectively varied and flexible combatants in terms of such matters."

He shuffles forward and offers the first greeting, a quick and simple one to the group that awaits them as a whole. "Salutations. It is good to see you all safe." He's giving a brief respectful nodding gesture as greeting. "I hope we can help keep you that way. My allies are the best in such matters. Please coordinate with them in your own navigation at your discretion, and speak to me if you have any concerns or needs that we might address in our efforts today, I will do my utmost to assist."

If there's no problems, he's intending to move on ASAP and get straight into the Burg.

Priscilla has posed:
The man Chris might vaguely remember as being introduced as "Indra" all the way back at Firelink Shrine inclines his head towards the awkward youth. The kind acknowledging nod one simply too cool for exchanging greetings gives to someone familiar. He offers the same to Amalthea, but his masked gaze all but drifts over Nathan, as though he had so utterly failed to stand out that nobody had been made aware of his presence. Instead, he appears to be far more busy sizing up Ezio and Psyber, being the most obvious candidates for new bodyguard material. His attention only goes back to the Librarian once he begins talking at length, the mask snapping back in Nathan's direction.

"What? Him?" One of the lady's bodguards is the first to speak in return. "Really? That's who you people take orders from?" The other responds by mumbling an utterly intelligible sentence, to which the first huffs in reply. "W-well it's obvious he knows what he's doing." The overburdened boy in the back pipes up with a bit of a stammer. "Let's just leave them be alright. We can't very well go in with just the three of you. That'd be suicide". Priscilla finally takes it upon herself to interrupt the bickering with a rather loud cough. "I am gladdened to see thee well. As I am to understand it, one group of five awaits us at the Parish already. The second five will be following in their footsteps, as the map provided shows."

Clearly tired of exchanging pleasantries, the masked man at the lead turns towards the stairs ahead of him, waving on the rest of his ground with a silent motion. The boy is quick to follow him, but the two armed men don't seem to be able to stop grumbling about it. Only the young woman lingers behind, staring at Mizuki with an expression rendered inscrutable by her hood. Rather than taking the lower streets as before, Indra leads the group straight up to one of the highest pathways down the midsection of the city, paved right across the rooftops of the bizarrely vertical buildings below. With the drake slain from the last venture, there is clearly no reason to worry about something swooping down from above.

Psyber (253) has posed:
"We switch off. Sometimes I give the orders, sometimes he does," Psyber responds to the criticisms of the bodyguards towards Nathan Hall. He doesn't seem to ruffled by the critical assessment, though. Instead he's simply reaching into his jacket to pull out half of a cigar, which he sticks in his mouth and begins smoking.

He does respond to Nathan shortly after, "Yeah, I'll handle offense, but I'm not intending to stray too far away from you. I'm really not keen on you coming home injured again tonight." He points out, shifting his footing and starting to walk along when it seems like the group is starting to move.

Nathan Hall (168) has posed:
"They certainly do not take orders from me." Nathan says, plaintively shrugging. "I provide friendly advice, which they just so happen to seem to want to take, rather often." Okay, you're starting to get a little excessive with the humble, Nathan. He shuffles along with the group, intending to, if they encounter more Hollows, quickly ensure they're dispatched to the greatest efficiency by using his SCAN ability to try to determine anatomical and elemental weaknesses, and relay them back to the party members who can take relevant advantage of them, ordering an immediate attack.

He nods to Psyber as they progress through. "Thank you, Psyber. You will understand it if I avoid selfishly demanding you guard me, but... I do rather appreciate the protection, and I certainly am not going to order you not to keep me safe. Amalthea will have her hands full with the others, after all, and I am sure the other three offensive groups can take much of the slack."

Ezio Auditore (75) has posed:
"He has earned his position as General. I wouldn't be so quick to judge." Ezio remarks towards the bodyguard first, he himself looking the part of a man of many talents. Nathan in particular gets a now and something of a salute from Ezio, as the general's words are headed. Ezio doesn't waste time with more small talk, as he raises his hood and takes off in a jog.

Making his way towards the burg, Ezio's eyes scan for a way of getting to high ground and possible threats. First off, he navigates his way through the sewer tunnel and fighting off whatever creatures attempt to bite at his kneecaps, goddamn rats being what they are around this dump.

Whenever he reaches the Burg proper, he begins to climb his way to high ground, searching for a vantage point for recon while he braces to engage any enemy he can't evade through agility.

Milla Maxwell (13) has posed:
Milla nods to Nathan. Seems like a fine plan.

The young woman reaches for the blade sheathed on her belt, drawing it. The red and silver sword, square-ended, but oddly sharp nonetheless, is a fairly small toy compared to the larger weapons people carry here, but it's served her well so far. She doesn't intend to make much use of it, per the instructions, but having a backup if something closes in on her is preferable.

"Though I am certain we will find out shortly, would you be willing to go over what we will be facing on the way there? Undead can be rather varied in shape and size."

Amalthea (395) has posed:
Those bodyguards are getting a severe evil eye from Amalthea's only eye. But she tips her head back at Indra before settling in to listen to Nathan's plan of action, lashing her shield to her arm in clear display of readiness and implicit trust in the general's orders as she pointedly snorts a low grunt of steam at any doubts.
"Got it, make everything pissed at me and keep it that way. You know that's easy enough for me."
So the basic plan is shield lob into flash, into--
Moving right along.

Staren has posed:
"Will do." Staren nods to Nathan. "I've got... I've certainly got a variety of weapons..." Speaking of which, the JA-12 Juicer Assault Rifle is slung over his back again. It's probably overkill for individual zombies, but you never know, maybe they'll run into a giant monster zombie.

Staren quirks a brow at the bodyguard. Really? They're questioning following General Nathan? He nods at the comment about Nathan knowing what he's doing.

Staren walks on into the Burg with the others, taking in the sights curiously. So, this is Priscilla's world...?

Nathan Hall (168) has posed:
"They are insane individuals whose bodies have been twisted by a loss of humanity. They may be killed, but seem to reincarnate later and repopulate the same areas out of insane obsession. They tend to make use of melee tactics, but some have been seen using bows. Be wary and on-guard for all manner of attack, though thankfully I have yet to see any actually using magic." Nathan says, tilting his head and giving a brief aside to Milla as he walks.

Chris Rothschild (283) has posed:
Indra receives a nod in return - HIM, Chris remembers. But Amalthea is here again, and even before Nathan begins to give out orders, the lanky magus is moving to step in behind her, rather than in front. He's also fishing in his pocket, coming out with a small plastic case as he approaches Amalthea. With her confirmation, the hacker opens the little case, and takes from it what looks like a small square of metal with rounded edges and a vaguely circuit-like pattern etched into the the casing - anyone who recognizes such things would be able to spot it as a small computer processor whose 'shell' he's modified.

"Here. Put it on the sword. Right at the base of the blade, close to the middle as you can." The little CPU will adhere to the sword as if by glue. And once it does, assuming Faith accepts the enchantment, a line of plasma will flare to life, exactly one half-centimeter from every cutting surface on the sword.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
Mizuki briefly shares the woman's glance, eventually giving her the faintest of bows. Still, though, her lips don't move. Probably for the best, too - when she does start talking, she never stops. Though... something does get her interested enough to speak. And that something is Nathan.

She smirks. "... oh? You must be that Nathan fellow I read about. Have we spoken over the radio before...?" She strokes her chin just a bit. "... no, I don't believe so. If we did, it was likely inconsequential. Still..." She looks him up and down, eyes opening up. "... it is good to finally meet a 'high ranking' individual in the merry band that I've pledged my talents to for the time being. But I'll save the rest of my silliness for another time, yes?" With that, she gives him a nod, turning to walk with the others.

Reticent again, now. As they march across the rooftops and bridges, Mizuki quickly begins to see why such a swath of apparent strength has ended up here. This town is mazelike, and that ominous feeling she felt at the onset isn't easing up at all as they move forward. Still... she can't focus as much as she would like on the architecture and the other assorted curiosities of the world. No, she was also curious about what all of these people could do. She can read dossiers all she likes, but she will not see any more true a representation of might than she will here, in the flesh. Of particular interest to her is Psyber, as he has been since she saw him when the legal standing of his company were in jeopardy. Her eyes linger on the others in the group as much as they do elsewhere... and she's completely silent.

Yeah, she wants to try the dark and mysterious thing today. (Let's just hope she doesn't end up walking off of a cliff or something because of it.)

Priscilla has posed:
Standing outside the gate is one thing, but from the first step into the township's empty grounds, a thick, oppressive atmosphere settles over the shoulders of each person the moment they crest the stairs. A sense of implaceable dread pervades the air, already heavy and charged from the distant thunderstorm overhead. It's in the weight of the clouds. The weakening sunlight. The long shadows cast by the walls. It's in the empty echo of the armed procession's clinking footsteps, and the utter silence that swallows them after a single reverberation. This is a place nobody where nobody has lived in a very long time. The feeling is similar to that of stepping into an abandoned house with foreknowledge of a grisly murder in its history. A sense that things still linger here unresolved. That the spirits of its past will come back at any moment. It's a little unnerving, but more than anything, it is simply, terribly sad.

Even those unfamiliar with the burg can quickly ascertain its layout. Three vertical tiers stand one atop another in a vaguely pyramidal fashion; roads paved over the roofs of each layer, with an absolute mess of bridges crossing from one to the other. It would be easy to fall from a single slip on a rain-slicked cobblestone, but very hard to hit the bottom. There are plenty of stairs and ladders down, but every one of the latter has been boarded up or blocked with rubble, and all of the latter are locked up or destroyed.

Exactly why becomes increasingly obvious after only half an hour of walking. Without even the decency to hide spookily in the shadows, dark, humanoid shapes can be seen shuffling down the deepest streets below, milling about seemingly at random. Their numbers swiftly grow the further the group progresses, to the point where the silence is quickly filled with the incessant sounds of their groaning and of bare feet scraping stone. None of them seem to notice the living passing over them far above. They seem . . . preoccupied. The longer one watches, the more one can see differences in their behaviour. Some seem content to simply sit in the streets, or lay sprawled on the doorsteps of old houses. Others seem to be stuck milling about in abandoned workshops and stores, as if searching for something. Some of them move as a cohesive group, though how they are able to tell each other apart is anyone's guess. None of them seem to have more than the faintest awareness of what they are doing.

As the sounds drifting up from below start to wear on nerves, the boy near the front clears his throat, trying to make some distracting conversation in a rather high strung voice. "S-so. I'm . . . Griggs. Of Vinheim. I'm not familiar with many of you but . . . well you seem awfully strong. I'm sure this kind of thing is your every day, right?" He looks pointedly towards Psyber. How tough he looks. The two bodyguards seem more preoccupied with Staren and Mizuki, constantly looking back over their shoulders as if disbelieving their own eyes. It is inevitable that snatches of their mumbled conversations involving "little girl" and "runt" drift back, but they seem reluctant to actually speak loud enough for their lady to hear them; sharing their greivances in private. Indra spares only a passing glance to Ezio as he vaults up over the rooftops, regarding his acrobatic acumen with indecipherable quiet as always. The place is parkour paradise, so long as one doesn't slip on wet moss. Aside from the gargantuan sheer wall at the town's edge, it doesn't take long before Ezio can see for miles. The wall goes as far as the eye can see, though the point of building one at a cliff edge is debateable. The township is as rambling and mazelike as can be, with no greater plan to its construction, but the castle at its center and the gothic church nearby stand out like a sore thumb, giving him an easy beacon to home in on.

"Weapons are good." Indra finally breaks his inofficial vow of silence to respond to Staren with a heavy accent. "Bring many of them with you as long as you travel these lands. Holl

Priscilla has posed:
"Weapons are good." Indra finally breaks his inofficial vow of silence to respond to Staren with a heavy accent. "Bring many of them with you as long as you travel these lands. Hollows are the least of your worries." He pauses a moment for Nathan to explain everything he really needs to for Milla. "It is as the contractor says. Though they have wasted away, they are deprived of even the right to rot. They are tough and often wily. Few amongst them have not killed men in past."

Ezio Auditore (75) has posed:
Ezio's little parkour adventure goes smoothly enough, with the lack of rooftop sentries to keep him from having to remain on the streets and natural knowhow of navigating even in unknown areas. He climbs, jumps, vaults, and so forth. Making his way across a gap to another roof adjacent to his current position, Ezio reaches to grab onto the edge-

-before he finds himself slipping on moss. "-damnit!" He grunts, his free hand reaching for something safe to grab before stopping his fall. Grumbling to himself, he begins to work his way back up to the roof again before he locates a good spot to recon from. From here, he should be able to keep track of everyone as they go through for the time being, as well as training his eye out for hollows and other interlopers.

Chris Rothschild (283) has posed:
As soon as they enter the Burg proper, Chris' expression drops into a deep scowl. "The atmosphere here... don't think this place likes us. Or itself." Having given the professional opinion of a trained magus, he falls back a little.

If they are to spend a half-hour walking, at the very least, he can talk shop with Staren a little, explaining the basics. His personal elements are metal and lightning. A computer chip's purpose is to do calculations, to run programs per instructions given to it. A CPU can be customized, and equipped with firmware, to specialize it to a specific task. So for him, it's a simple (though not quite 'easy') matter of modifying the processor, laying the enchantment down on it like firmware, and then charging it with his own prana to run. Granted, Faith probably has enough magical power to run the enchantment indefinitely on its own.

He never stops keeping an eye on the undead as they pass, however, even while talking to Staren. He's also never too far from Amalthea. "Not quite every day," is his response to Griggs. "But I'm not a stranger to deadly peril."

Psyber (253) has posed:
When Psyber spots Mizuki she gets as friendly a smile as he can muster while still electing to smoke his cigar. He even waves his hand to wave at her. Then he realizes that she's going for dark and mysterious today, so he should play along with that. His facial expression immediately changes to a scowl as he gives her the socially appropriate grunt and nod that such a dark, brooding, and mysterious figure so obviously deserves.

Still, Griggs of Vinheim is not someone that seems to want everyone to be dark and brooding. And so he DOES give him a smile and a wave, "I'm Psyber. Union Problem Solver and Supernatural Expert. Also on-again-off-again Nathan Wrangler-and-Wielder." He adds, giving him a pilot and cordial nod. Psyber has yet to actually produce a weapon, but he's yet to encounter hostiles.

But when they mention weapons would be good, he does finally take out a weapon. Or, more accurately, a notepad. He tears off a strip of paper and tosses it upwards. It shimmers in the air and then turns into a pair of Colt Pythons, which he catches in either hand and twirls casually, while walking along.

Milla Maxwell (13) has posed:
"I see. I understand. They are no longer human, then," Milla says. Though there is a conversation ongoing between her and the Four, it'd take a pretty good psychic to intrude on that, so we won't cover it.

Fortunately she does not tire from the walking, and she is rather lightfooted as noise goes too, despite making no obvious effort to be. She isn't a very talkative person by nature, so she doesn't bore people on the way. The feelings of dread aren't missed, either, but she's not sure how to process that. Emotions are awkward, weird and new.

She does, finally, ask, as they walk past figures in the shadows, "What do they do here, all day? Simply wait for unfortunate wanderers?"

Mizuki (183) has posed:
Mizuki narrows her eyes and gives the bodyguards going on about her and Staren's small statures a... rather unnerving, almost 'evil' grin. 'Yes, I heard you', says the expression, 'and I have no need to prove you wrong'. Really, that sort of talk brings up a twist of emotions in Mizuki. Should she react in her usual, bombastic, ironic way and tell them how 'insolent' they're being? Or should she go the more subtle route and terrify them in utter silence? The latter seems more tactful, and there will be ample opportunity for it, so she elects to go with that for now. No sense in embarrassing herself in front of people who would likely see through that facade quite quickly.

She gives another glance around the city. 'Bombast' isn't reall suited to this place either, really. For now, she simply straightens herself up, adjusting a ribbon at her collar. Far more pressing concerns than impressing the locals, she knows, but it is something to be addressed. And something to keep her thoughts occupied... and off of those... erm... /things/ shambling around down there. The cacophony of moans is enough to trigger a well-hidden gag reflex. But... ah! That and Indra's simple remark that 'weapons are good' reminds her of a rather important detail she had been forgetting. A ball of faintly glowing, blue light gathers in Mimi's left hand, eventually stretching out to form the likeness of a rather beautiful, ornate sword. Even if nothing else about her 'fits in' with the environment, at least her weapon might.

... though really, the people around here never give her her precious time to be 'introspective' and 'broody'! Psyber's goofy transition from amicable wave to a scowl earns a 'petite' snort from Mizuki. Immediately, she goes to hide her mouth with her sleeve.

Nathan Hall (168) has posed:
"We deal with this sort of risk regularly. Unfortunately, that does not lessen the risk, except through some experience." Nathan says, frankly, replying quickly to Griggs. "I stay with the group because I doubt my own reliable ability to escape death at the hands of even a single lone Hollow, personally. Psyber is the reason I can be here with most expectation of survival."

There's also a nod to Indra. "As I thought. It seems versatility and an ability to deal with many different types of threat seem valuable qualities. A natural assumption to make in a world turned deadly by this awful blight and decay." He continues his shuffling and watching out for threats closely. He seems quite averse to looking down: Even if the corpses are walking, those Hollows still make him intensely uneasy and rather nauseous.

Staren has posed:
Staren looks with interest at the plasma edge, stepping up for a close look at the processor and inquiring over the radio, then recognizing that he won't learn how it works by visual inspection and stepping back. He listens attentively to Chris. "So you need a powerful processor because... executing some calculation, or generating some complex signal, is part of performing the spell?"

"Nnngh." Staren grunts at the sense of dread. That things can make him feel that way annoys him.

Staren sees the distant undead and immediately lifts his right arm to aim -- the two cylindrical attachments to his armor open panels at the front, revealing the barrels of some kind of energy weapon. A targeting laser also activates. ...When the undead don't attack, Staren lowers his arm. He nods to Griggs at the name, then shrugs at the comment about every day. "Not /every/ day, but I have long ago lost count of the number of times I've faced hordes of monsters."

When Indra speaks... "I don't know about Hollows specifically, but... in my homeworld, it would be extremely foolish to leave the cities without bearing weapons and armor of high technology or magic. They may not rot, but they'll still burn, right?"

Amalthea (395) has posed:
Briefly, Amalthea has a look over the CPU handed her way, turning it over in her fingers as she looks up at Chris, bouncing it contemplatively in her palm a few times before she attaches it to the blade as indicated. The effect is just as expected, the artefact broken sword comes alive with the flare of cutting plasma light hovering at the jagged edges. For a moment, she inspects this, holding it up in front of her gaze appraisingly.
"... Your technosorcery interests me, and I'd like to subscribe to your newsletter, sir." She says, seemingly approvingly. But then it's into the township, and her guard is up immediately. Loopy ears prick and swivel like antennae, listening out for the slightes out of place sound, the old knight slides into a practiced state of paranoia.
To Griggs her response is a grunt as she promptly stops dicking around to keep herself ready.
"I fucking hear you." She does note to the bodyguards at their whisperings.
She will not harass the shambling humanoid figures unless they come to harass the group first. For now.

Chris Rothschild (283) has posed:
"A little," Chris replies to Staren. "More a matter of, uh..." He falters, looking for a way to phrase the issue. "...Conceptual weight, I guess? It's physics and magic both, so..." But there's not much time for any more in-depth discussion, unfortunately. They are in a hostile area, after all.

Priscilla has posed:
Just as anyone could predict, as the muted groaning and dry whispering grows ever louder, the going starts to become treacherous. At first it is simple enough. Hollows wandering the highest level, fewer in number than those below. Nothing but dessicated skin stretched tight over wasted muscle and sharply pronounced bones; walking corpses as if preserved by desert heat, clad in nothing but frayed rags. The first few only shamble towards the front of the group, only to be cut down with smooth draws of Indra's sword as casually as hacking away weeds. As the route continues however, the Hollows are more of the breed Nathan, Chris and Amalthea are familiar with. The kind with that mad little flame in their eyeless sockets. The ones that turn at the sound of a coin dropping. Who lope and sprint right out in the open, clutching broken tools and jagged rocks. Who throw themselves upon anyone close, hissing and snarling like animals. They lunge from blind corners, drop from rotted rafters, burst from under piles of debris, and even lie in wait hanging over the edge of bridges, grasping at ankles and biting at feet. The bodyguards seem to greatly enjoy smashing the fingers of Hollows that try to crawl up, making a game of seeing how many then can knock down.

The casual (re)killing is not to last however. Sooner rather than later, hollows begin showing up armed with rusted weapons and armoured in tarnished chainmaille. Frequently, the group is blocked by entire lines of them, shields up and spears at the ready, or ambushed by hails of crossbow bolts from above. They grow steadily more coordinated the further the journey continues, as well as in numbers. Anyone with an eye in their skull can see they're all wearing the same uniforms. Some as lowly militia, some bearing the insignia of soldiers; still standing watch at their stations after decades and decades, having long forgotten why. Despite the number of them destroyed on the previous outing, there don't seem to be any less of them today. Even with the size of the pilgrim's entourage, their numbers become frequently overwhelming, especially when the attack is pressed from above and below, or suddenly from both ends of a bridge. Griggs' nerves are quickly shot through, and his attempts at making nervous conversation grow steadily more strained. For some reason however, the young lady seems troubled by something else. Frequently she stops to read the signs of old inns, or to pick up personal effects she finds on the ground. What interest she has in discarded toys and lockets isn't obvious, but anyone attentive can see the pity in her eyes as she steps over the freshly re-slain corpses of Hollows.

Milla's question is loudly interrupted by a voice from outside the group. A high pitched, nasally sound with something of a cracked edge to it. "Not at all! That's all they do! They wander around aimlessly in search of souls, and they take them when they find them!" A figure climbs out of a nearby window; a hefty sack slung over his shoulder. As he steps into the light however, he looks no different from the mad corpses that have been attacking people every step of the way, down to his utterly skeletal grin. "And my my, you have quite a lot of them don't you? Nehehehe! No wonder there's been such a fuss! You're big, juicy targets!" An unnerving laugh manages to whistle between his exposed teeth. "But no matter! My intuition was right! You're travellers in need, and I've got just the right stuff for you to make it out of here in one piece! Got it?" He immediately drops the sack on the ground.

Chris Rothschild (283) has posed:
For now, Chris remains close to Amalthea, supporting her as needed. He is probably thankful more than once for the added protection of his clothes.

Milla Maxwell (13) has posed:
As they wade through the undead, Milla will, of course, help. With idle flicks of her fingers, powerful flames come into existence, and she is able to direct them as easily as if they were limbs. Hands of fire reach to grasp and immobilize some of the creatures while searing them; flaming lances aim to pierce and set ablaze. At other times it is simple fireballs, explosive but precise. The degree to which she can "area of effect" as requested by Nathan is probably suprising, given the flames don't seem to harm allies. And when it seems like they would, they elegantly dance around friends to hit foes, causing, at best, a bit of sweating.

A careful glance could almost spot the ethereal form of Efreet, hovering around Milla. The massive humanoid beast of black and red fire, a nine foot tall mass of muscles too, doesn't really do anything, though.

They are eventually halted by the undead who speaks to them-- to Milla's surprise. She thought these were not human anymore, but this one clearly breaks the mold. Or, at least, speaks as if he does. He may yet still be an insane monster too.

Rather than address him, Milla turns to the present company, unsure if they are meant to talk and negotiate with this person, or just strike him down. Nathan in particular seems like he would know.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
Mizuki quirks an eyebrow at the... erm... merchant? as he climbs in through the window. Under her breath, she comments idly to the only person there she really knows, "... evidently some of these things... er... some of /them/ are sapient after all?" Soon, she folds her arms, studying him. That eyebrow is really getting a workout today, though. Soul... s? Plural? She immediately has a bevy of questions, but she holds her tongue. Someone else is bound to ask for her, and in the meantime, she can pretend that she had known all along! Yep. Smirk. Foolproof plan, as always~.

She's... fairly certain she won't need any of what this... pleasant creature is selling, though. She'll leave the perusal to the others while she... just looks out of this window, yes. She doesn't stray /too/ far from the group for her own safety, but she is sightseeing. Thinking about it now... she frowns a bit. There's no one else to did this, is there? Suddenly, a feeling of bizarre nostalgia passes over her. She feels like an archaeologist in a dying world. Really, though, framing it that way makes this whole 'artistic appreciation' angle seem much less... well... petty. And what's more? The feeling is genuine.

She briefly glances back in the direction of the others, listening in. If they happen to blurt out something about an interesting artifact or the like, well... she might have capitalize on it after all. What with this sudden, nigh overbearing feeling of purpose flooding her and all.

Ezio Auditore (75) has posed:
The bodyguards' antics draw a disapproving frown from Ezio as he trains upon them in particular. They just keep poking the hornet's nest here with their thoughtless cruelty, and it's a matter of time before they draw the horde their way to make this more difficult than necessary. Such is the arrogance of the common man, always thinking they are in control when it's so obviously the opposite.

"Fucking idiots." He growls, shaking his head before he begins to plot out other areas. He'll handle scouting while he takes to making sure nothing jumps out at the gang as they chat with the merchant. If there are hollows, he'll do as he does and either evade them or cut them to pieces with gunblade, knives, and other weapons he has at his disposal.

He may as well split from the gang long as he's doing recon. He'll probably find things on his own, mayhap.

Staren has posed:
Staren raises his weapon at the scattered Hollows, but Indra is able to handle them it seems.

And then things get worse. Staren starts shooting them with the particle beams on his right forearm -- hopefully they impart enough energy to flashfry the zombies. (If any are able to get close, Staren draws and attacks with his beam saber.) As the hollows show up in ever larger groups, Staren responds with area weapons -- first, drawing his rifle and using the underbarrel grenade launcher on clustered hollows, but if they reach the 'horde' level, he pulls the magitech staff from his bag and fires sparks of light that erupt into massive fireballs. He can only do so many of those, though... Hopefully he won't need to use up all of his mana.

When the mysterious figure with the bag appears, Staren immediately trains his rifle on them and switches the fire-select to burstfire mode.

Hopefully someone will stop him from shooting before the Hollow has a chance to reveal its friendly intentions.

If so, he shrugs at Mizuki and lowers the rifle. "...What, you just sit here in the middle of the zombie apocalypse waiting to sell your wares to travelers? What's the point? Where are you going to spend the money? Um... aren't you a zombie too?"

Psyber (253) has posed:
Guns in hand, Psyber doesn't have too much trouble wading through undead. He's particularly careful to position between Nathan and whatever else comes after him. As he does so, both guns easily crack and roar, putting out .357 rounds into the head of anything that wanders too close. Moments requiring a reload are handled easily, taking no more than a couple of seconds at any time as speed-loaders are produced, loaded, then dropped behind him.

The half-angel twirls the two guns in his hands and then looks to Nathan, "Lemme guess. Stranger, stranger. Now that's a weapon. You'll buy it at a high price? Yada yada?" Psyber asks, still with cigar in his mouth as he shrugs boredly.

Amalthea (395) has posed:
Whelp. It wasn't going to be an easy trip the whole way along, Amalthea knew that much. It's why when her ears tell her that the inevitable rush of Hollows is coming, she already has her shield arm up to brace. There's a clatter. A slam. The sound of a heavy shield being used as a blunt object, before that plasma enhanced sword lashes out.
When a Hollow gets too close, Amalthea is there to bully it aside or soak a hit for someone else on her armored hide. "Of course some of them are sapient." She grunts at Mizuki. After all, a chunk of the group, if not all the ones they're with are Undead. Just not Hollow like the denizens of the burg.
By the time the sack-carrying undead comes upon them, Amalthea is looking dinged up, scuffed and a little bloody on her end, but for the most part in good condition thanks to Chris' upkeep, and agreeing with the assessment that the bodyguards are a pair of fuckwits. And then the guy dumps his sack. Amalthea vents a little steam, taking the time to breathe and see if there's anything interesting.

Priscilla has posed:
"You what? Do I sound Hollow to you?! Just because I'm undead doesn't mean you have to go discriminating! Not all of us are all hung up about keeping spare Humanity around to look all fresh and pretty! Am I trying to impress anyone? I don't think so! Besides, that's stuff's valuable. People buy /that/ at a high price! Neehehehe!" He directs that last giggle pointedly towards Psyber, switching conversational targets in a disorienting manner. He points a bony finger towards Amalthea, gesticulating wildly. "See? See! Listen to her! Listen to the clever shiny lady! She knows what she's on about!" Apparently having absolutely none of this sass, he immediately begins rifling through the sack, unrolling a whole carpet from inside to present his little mobile store.

The "wares" this "merchant" spreads out look like the biggest pile of unassorted junk anyone has ever laid eyes on. Though he spends considerable time arranging and stacking it, all of it looks thrown together from a hundred different places rather than crafted and purchased. Much of it is utilitarian, encompassing piles of swords, knives, axes and spears tied together in bundles, with a hefty stack of mismatched shields all in different colours, most of which appear to be fairly undamaged. Two great wooden pails are filled with arrows, bolts and daggers that look like he simply found them lying around after being fired at some unlucky travellers, with a hefty chest plucked right out a dressing room containing folded up, light armoured outfits that are admittedly in far better shape than what the hollows are wearing. How he carries all this crap around is something to think on, especially when he starts pulling out whole jars and vases filled with more exotic materials. One half full of glittering gold powder, another one stacked to its lid with little balls of clay, one rattling around with rather fragile looking glass and bronze orbs on broken chains, and yet another stuffed with faintly luminescent orange crystals. A variety of herbs and mosses come out on display as well, but who knows where half of these things have been growing from, and none of them look like plants anyone would be familiar with. Tipping over the last contents of the bag, an even more heft chest than the first one comes tumbling out, easily the size that it should have filled most of the sack. Along with it comes a grody old bucket with a sheet pulled over it, which he immediately sits down next to and begins caressing fondly.

The two bodyguards are more than happy to start perusing, leaning over and pawing through the assorted gear for anything attractive. Oddly enough, the young lady in white seems interested too, kneeling down next to the vase full of glass bronze talismans, though she doesn't seem inclined to purchase them. Griggs seems more put off, standing a respectful distance away as close to Indra as he can. Clearing his throat, he manages to raise his voice to something approaching audible. "Th-this is . . . this is stolen, isn't it?" The undead merchant responds with a hearty slap on the knee and a high pitched cackle. "Of course it's stolen! What did you think?! It's not like anyone will miss it here of all places!" He leers at the young man as he shrinks back. "And when you lose your head, I'll sell it all again! Ehehehehe!"

Ezio Auditore (75) has posed:
MEANWHILE over to Ezio's POV, the assassin's continued on his route across the rooftops. He vaults across gaps, his view gazing over to the belltower with intent as he continues that way. He only stops to deal with a small grouping of Hollows, leaping down at them with hidden blades drawn and stabbing two of them on the way down, cushioning his fall with another.

After he's done cutting them down, Ezio begins to make his way through the maze to find another route up. He'll probably be busying himself with more Hollows on the way, before he climbs to rooftop level once more to spot the belltower. "Hmmm." The church might a well be be his best bet, and he heads that way with determination.

Staren has posed:
"Sorry. I thought hollow was just the local word for undead. There's a difference?" Wow. That sure is a lot of stuff! That must be a nice magic bag.

"I'm pretty sure looting the corpses of fallen adventurers is a time-honored tradition and not 'stealing'." Staren quips in respons to Griggs's concern.

Staren casts curious looks at the esoteric baubles and powders and plants, wondering what they're for. "You said you don't hoard Humanity... but then why are you trying to make a buck in such an inhospitable place? I thought Humanity is what allowed people to have ambition and greed in the first place."

Mizuki (183) has posed:
In spite of herself, Mizuki gravitates toward the merchant's little display. Her eyes scan over the assorted junk a while before she decides that this outing doesn't really need a souvenir after all. She had just let out a small sigh and begun to pace away again when one of the 'lumbering oafs' points out that something was stolen. She turns to face him... before the 'intrepid' (or is it just insane?) salesman gives the most amusing display of the evening. And that witty retort even came with a rhyme? Suddenly, Mizuki is... quite jovial.

She can't restrain a short - but noticeable - clap of her hands. That was pretty good~! If all of these undead creatures are like this one - of course they won't be, but still - then maybe she could come to like some of them after all. The somber aura still weighs heavily over this place, but you know what?

... she almost feels at home here.

Nathan Hall (168) has posed:
Oh shit, HAGGLING TIME! Nathan Hall was born for this. He doesn't lose a step, thankfully left unscathed by Psyber's protection. "Ah, thank you." He says. "I am quite sure your wares must be of exceptional if you stand to gain more from selling them to us than in using them against us in these dark times." He approaches with intense internal disgust but an externally blank expression.

He squats down near all those wares to look over them more closely. "We have a supply of souls to spare for purchases. Thank you for keeping us supplied, whatever your motives may be. Business is business, I can understand that." Then he glances to his companions, the natives. "I recognize some of these materials," He says, frankly. "But many of them are not common in the land I hail from. Please, if you might utilize your expertise and give me an assessment of the less directly obvious materials and their use, so that we can understand their value in souls."

He doesn't want this merchant to get him with bogus deals, so he's gonna use native expertise to give himself an edge to start off with and make sure he doesn't get conned!

Chris Rothschild (283) has posed:
Curiously, Chris edges forward a little, looking over the wares.

The glimmering golden powder in particular catches his eye. "That actual gold?" he asks of the merchant.

Amalthea (395) has posed:
That is... A bucket. The guy is stroking a bucket.
Amalthea will just... Let Nathan find out what hald this scrap is and haggle for them while she inspects the wares for uh... Mostly to try and figure out what half of it is.

Psyber (253) has posed:
Psyber actually does not have a great deal of interest in purchasing goods from the merchant at the moment. So he's leaning against a wall, out of the way, while he checks the two guns in his hands and makes sure they didn't take too much scuff in the prior fights.

Milla Maxwell (13) has posed:
Milla wanders closer to the undead merchant and his wares; she looks about, especially when the weapons are laid out before them. Her eyes hover over the selection of swords, which she starts examining the craftsmanship of.

For someone who knows so little about the human world, she does seem to have a keen eye for a well made object. Efreet, slightly less ethereal although still mostly transparent, has himself started bending over to inspect the goods too. The Great Spirit of Fire is, on the side, one of the better blacksmiths you'll find in Milla's world.

"What do you think, Efreet? Is any of this good?"
He hums and inspects further.

Priscilla has posed:
"No no, everyone here is undead, but only those shambling witless creatures are hollow! Of course, there's not much of a difference! Once you're undead, the only thing seperating you and losing your marbles is time! Nehehehe! But of course, you've got your wits about you! That makes you a welcome customer!" In the middle of speaking with Staren, the merchant pulls back the sheet on the bucket, pulling out an item completely out of place in all this junk; a exquisitely made, well cared for katana; both out of place for the location and time period, and in its near mint condition. "Oh the hollows don't bother with a skinny old twig like me." He replies to Nathan. "It's actually quite nice here. It's quiet and sheltered, and nobody throws stones at me either! Honestly, I had it worse back home!"

Gleefully accepting Nathan's proposition, he begins pointing at the less obvious wares in all those jars, starting with the orange gems. "These little beauties are orange soapstones. You can't use them for summoning anything, but look at this!" Picking one out, he grips a band of cloth wrapped around one end and begins drawing with the pointed tip over the stone in short, angular lines. Rather than leaving some kind of chalky substance however, smouldering letters are drawn seemingly right onto the surface of the rock, glowing like cinders against the drab grey slate. Bizarrely, despite it being written script, anyone looking at it can immediately tell that it says "Buy something!". Next he moves onto the pot full of gold powder, scooting the vase away from Chris. "Of course it's not gold! Who would buy a bucket full of gold out here?! What would you even do with it?! Worthless! No this is much better!" He picks up one of the swords Milla is inspecting, honestly fairly well made, but worn and chipped with age. Grabbing a pinch of the powder, he rubs it along the edge of the blade, and where his fingers come away, the steel is polished and sharp as new. "You only have yourself to blame if you don't have any of this when your equipment breaks! Buy up!"

He moves over to the little talismans the young lady is inspecting, opening his mouth to say something, before abruptly being cut off by her first words of the day. "These are talismans of the Lloyd the allfather. They ward off the undead and prevent their recovery for a time. Holy knights use these to subdue them to be taken to the Asylum. Why do you have these?" The merchant moves to the last jar, completely ignoring the question. Picking up a little clay sphere and tossing it over the edge of the building, where it bursts into an explosive ball of fire. "Black resin firebombs! A little pedestrian, but they're cheap!" He then proceeds to explain for those looking, the properties of all the plants gathered in pouches. Some are supposed to treat illness, others to purge poisons, some to promote energy and recover stamina, and others supposedly can be used in enchanting if broken up.

Indra however, seems drawn towards the sword sitting in his lap, reaching out to examine it. The moment he does, the merchant slaps his hand away, going back to caressing the blade out of the bucket. "Yulia's not for sale, creep. She'd never leave my side anyways! Would you Yulia?"

Staren has posed:
Staren is slightly surprised at the glowing letters. That's interesting. Likewise at the powder. /That's/ useful... but he doesn't have spare souls on him.

"What does taking the zombies to the Asylum do?" Staren asks the priestess(?).

Firebombs... potentially useful, but how much farther do they need to go? Staren still has several explosives left.

"You didn't answer my question. What are you collecting souls for out here, and if you don't have your humanity, why do you /care/?" Staren persists. He's curious!

Priscilla has posed:
In his fleet foot advance over the rooftops, Ezio is troubled exceedingly little by the omnipresent hollow bridges over the city. Though he occasionally comes under fire from watch towers high above, still crewed by their undead archers, there aren't exactly a lot of enemies prowling around so high up. Before long, he comes to a huge, solid stone bridge built right over an enormous chasm, practically invisible from the edge of town, but suddenly dividing the castle keep and the rest of the township with a massive gulf. The bridge itself is wide enough for whole wagons to ride two at a time, but the entire thing is scorched black and sooty, as well as smashed and crumbled in places.

Priscilla, not being exactly socially outgoing, has been even more unusually quiet this entire time; not speaking a word to her escort. The distraction of haggling with a cracked up merchant seems to put her ill at ease, shifting restlessly as his little show manages to draw the attention of half the group. Tapping Nathan on the shoulder, she offers him the palm of her hand, and floating above it, a misty white orb of silent flames, pushing it into his grasp. "Buy what thou wilst, and then let us move on. We do not possess so much time as to be waylaid by this show."

Psyber (253) has posed:
Psyber actually leans up off the wall and walks over next to Priscilla as other people are browsing. He politely waits until she's done talking to Nathan and giving him some souls before he puts a palm on the center of her back to make his presence known. He then moves to stand next to the white-haired Crossbreed, "How're you doin, Pris?" He asks curiously.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
Mizuki nods her head absently along with Staren and the merchant's conversation. She begins to ponder a bit. So all Hollows are undead, but not all undead are hollow? Hmm. The machinations of this world are strange. But... wait. All of those she had seen thus far that were native could be undead too, then! She looks to the bodyguards, the robed woman, and... well, Priscilla, but Priscilla seems a bit different somehow. She blinks. Wait, -is- she native here? She was in that painting before, and that... gah. So many questions all of a sudden! The one troubling her most, though, might seem simple to others: should she broach the subject right now?

Ultimately, she decides against it. There is work to do here, isn't there? In the midst of this little shopping trip, she had almost forgotten. What /had/ they come here to do, again? Something about a bell tower? Mizuki wanders just far enough to ascend the nearby stairs, looking up. And searching. Eventually, she's able to spot the cathedral.

... ah. This will be quite the trek, won't it?

She bats her eyelashes a few more times before looking back to the group. They seem enthralled, but now yet another question plagues her mind. Should she urge them to go? Or would that be rude? She ponders this... when the 'native' surprises her by doing her job for her. W-Well then. That solves quite a bit, doesn't it...? She looks to Priscilla. It's unspoken, of course, but there's gratitude. Why? Well...

... exploring is more fun when you're doing it in a city rather than at a nutty guy's garage sale.

Chris Rothschild (283) has posed:
"/I'd/ buy gold," Chris replies, perhaps a bit petulantly. He turns and steps away from the wares and back towards Amalthea in... is... is he having a little bit of a huff? He seems to be.

Mutter mutter perfectly good magical component mutter.

He's got his PDA out. He's tapping at it. He's muttering to himself. He's glancing over his shoulder.

Taptap. Beep.

Chris puts away the PDA and shoves his hands in his pockets. Meanwhile, the metal on the belt holding up the merchant's pants slowly begins to erode. It may take a minute or so before it comes apart.

Ezio Auditore (75) has posed:
Ezio seems to have no problem with the hollows, either evading the archers or responding with the odd crossbow bolt or two while he continues to run and leap towards the bridge area. That chasm definitely gets his attention once he has a view of the Burg bellow.

"Good God..." He breathes under his breath, admiring the view as he has a moment to catch his breath, and collect his thoughts for a spell. All that running, jumping, and fighting was pretty rough even for him.

He looks towards the bridgeway itself, noting the soot and gaps in the path.

Dragon. It has to be. Ezio better warn the others.

Priscilla has posed:
One of the bodyguards intercept's Staren's questioning, fixing him with an unhappy look. "It gets them out of the towns, that's what it does. Most of them are too dangerous to let stay. They're only waiting to go off the deep end and kill someone. If they wont go on pilgrimage of their own volition and try to hide it, they can sit in a cell until they go hollow. That's all they're good for." He seems more miffed that Staren is trying to talk to his charge rather than possessing any especial malice for the undead. After all, he must be one if he's here. The other only does his usual unintelligible mumbling, either too tired or not invested enough to speak up.

"Now that's just downright offensive! I still have more than enough Humanity if I'm sitting here with you bargaining instead of trying to eat you! We've all died a couple of times, I'm just not so vain as to try and keep up on appearances! And what do you think I'm collecting them for? If you've got a strong enough soul, you won't go off the deep end just from sitting around! I've been doing this for years and I've still got my wits, so obviously it's working!"

There is a quiet snap as a piece of metal gives way, courtesy of Chris. The prank doesn't go much further than that however, as the merchant begins grumbling about cheap lousy buckles, grabs a smidge of that gold dust, and then proceeds to fix it immediately. Merchant: 1 Chris: 0. Indra appears to have completely lost interest, only showing any of it at the eastern sword. The two bodyguards buy up a whole smack of herbs however, and a little bag of the repair powder, clearly sold on its properties. Griggs looks only bored and nervous, opening a scroll from his bag and setting to reading it, mouthing the words along as if rehearsing. Priscilla, by contrast, jumps visibly as Psyber touches her, letting out a tense breath as she straightens back up. "As well as coulst be, given the circumstances." She replies. "I ill like this place, but it is better than being hunted from the skies as before. I see little purpose in delaying, but I am not suited to persuading those away from their curiosity. We shalt reach the parish before long. There is no need to worry." The reassurance sounds like it was meant more for herself than him.

Amalthea (395) has posed:
Amalthea proceeds to reach over. She will scruff Staren if she can. "Because this world works in dark, grim, and mysterious ways, where people use souls as currency to keep their sanity and the dead walk the earth and the living shunt them off to keep them separate."
Then she motions at the repair powder and a soapstone. She'll be taking some of that but that marks the extent of her purchases before meandering Priscilla and Psyberwards.
"Cripes this place is bleak. Sup, you two."

Milla Maxwell (13) has posed:
The gold dust impressed Milla, though the stock of blades and shields, while well-made, did not really. Like the much larger man, it is the merchant's blade that truly seems to catch Efreet's attention, and he motions for Milla to look, but it becomes obvious that sword is not for sale. And so she backs away, to return with the others for now.

Of Priscilla and Nathan, she asks: "If I understand correctly, it is not the undead in general who are lost causes, but merely the Hollow? This man, though undead, still seems rather human in behavior."

It is a side-question not worth dwelling on too much.

Staren has posed:
Staren blinks and holds his hand to the side of his helmet. "I thought souls kept you moving and humanity kept you thinking... sorry, I'm not from this world. I'm still learning how it works. Good on you for beating the system!"

To Amalthea's comment, he replies, "Yeah, yeah, I got that, sort of, I'm just still learning the details."

Psyber (253) has posed:
Amalthea gets a lazy wave. And Psyber is also even polite enough to stop smoking while he's standing next to Priscilla. Such a gentleman. He pats her on the back a couple more times, "I'm here if you need me." He notes to her, before he echoes Amalthea, "I don't like this place. Reminds me way too much of when I was taking jobs in the middle ages."

He then resigns to waiting while others finish their purchases. He didn't see anything from the merchant that he liked. If he sees something he likes, he mentally notes to loot it off a body before this guy can.

Chris Rothschild (283) has posed:
Pssh, that's not a loss for Chris. He forced the guy to expend resources, while losing nothing himself. Totally a win. Totally.

Grump.

For the time being, he follows along behind Amalthea to Psyber and Priscilla, the latter of whom he stares at for a moment or two with vaguely puzzled expression. "...never realized how tall you are," he says, fidgeting a bit in place.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
Mizuki's eyes linger momentarily on Psyber and Priscilla. She smiles to herself. One is fairly social, and the other... well. Let's just say that her reactions seem quite fitting for someone that lives here. 'Quite the interesting pair', is her last thought before her wings appear in a flourish, and she starts up the stairs.

She takes a quick glance around herself, and is suddenly quite glad that she intends to fly. She studies the sky until she's quite sure that there's nothing vicious or hungry up there, and she checks behind her a few times to make sure that something isn't rushing out to stab her. Eeeuuuggghhh. She has to admit, now that she's a few steps from the group, that feeling of imminent doom ('be wary of death', a small voice in her head warns) is much more... er... apparent.

Still, she shakes it off. She shan't be swayed by a few mindless undead! Particularly when there's so much to see here. So assuming she isn't mauled by something rotten beforehand, her wings whip up a wind and she takes off, heading toward the bridge area where Ezio must be. Her flight is gradual, both to conserve energy and to allow her time to get a better view of where she just was from the ground. Though... she speeds up a little when she notices that a few of the undead have crossbows. That's really bad news.

Eventually, she lands near the heart of the bridge, as close to one of the walls as she can muster. It -really- is -not- in her best interest to be eviscerated today, so she's being more cautious than is typical. Her sword drawn and her attitude abnormally pensive, she paces forward. Should she see any enemies before Ezio finds her here, she will be ready for them. Or so she hopes.

Amalthea (395) has posed:
"You're trying to rationalize it too much." The unicorn grumps to Staren. "Just try and accept it for what it is. Fantasy bullshit that you gotta believe with your heart."
Easy for Amalthea to say as she sidles in with the half-angel and crossbreed. "Man I get the feeling it's only going to go downhill from here." She agrees with the hunter, "I think that mighta been a hundred or two years before my time. That bad back then?"

Ezio Auditore (75) has posed:
Mizuki isn't hard to spot, and Ezio levels his crossbow just in case to keep a good eye out for those who may take potshots towards her as she ascends to his position.

He's confident that she'll arrive uncontested, and just as Mizuki makes her way up, Ezio bows his head and smiles to the woman before continuing on across the bridge. "Come, let's get going." He says, sheathing his crossbow and making his way along.

He keeps a hand on his gunblade's hilt, drawing it and keeping prepared for whatever comes out to jump at them and the others whenever the gang regroups with them both.

Nathan Hall (168) has posed:
"As long as the undead do not suffer more deaths, they retain their humanity." Nathan replies, aside, to Milla. "We are seeking a lead on means of resolving the undead plight itself. But for now... Well, all we can do is preserve what little humanity remains in people, and keep them alive where we can. Even if it is a stalling tactic, it is worth doing."

Hopefuly his other allies who have no interest in greedy ventures can give Nathan and his allies an edge on the prices, but Nathan and his guardian angel don't have any spare souls so he decides to simply move on, hiking it to the bridge (assuming the rest of the Hollows are dealt with) and intending to head over it, presumably going for the area where he and Oscar. This likely means eventually meeting up with Mizuki and Ezio.

Priscilla has posed:
The merchant offers Amalthea a "Thank you kindly!" and another nasally titter as he begins making more of a profit off of his little run-in, only to swiftly forget her being there with Milla and Nathan still looking through his stuff, and Staren still being a nosey git. "Do I look like a vinheim scholar to you? You die, some of your humanity slips away. The stronger you are, the tighter grip you can keep on it. That's all you need to know alright? Keep the fancy theoretical questions to the library and either look over my wares or get on your way!"

Priscilla smiles wearily at Amalthea. "If thou wouldst expect me to defend the honour of mine homeland in this sorry state, thou art mistaken." she says. "We shalt see how thine opinion changes as we draw close to Anor Londo. Otherwise, I can only agree." She turns towards Milla, clearly surprised at actually being spoken to. ". . . yes, thou art correct. Whilst there is no cure for undeath, one is not immediately consigned to oblivion upon contracting it. There art many ways to forestall or reverse the process of hollowing. Once thou art hollow however, there is no going back. Driven to that dark precipice, many men hath done unspeakable deed, or signed away their souls, in order to avoid losing their mind." The depressing tone is broken by an unpractised attempt at a laugh at Chris' observation. "Thou art not so small thyself, for a human. I taketh this form only for ease of communicating with thine kind. I am not certain how a holy woman of Thorolund wouldst react to otherwise."

Possessing the advantage of flight, Mizuki makes quick work of the labyrinth of buildings, cutting as the crow flies straight across to where Ezio is. Predictably, she is shot at on the way, but the bowmen, while uncannily accurate for mindless creatures, have long forgotten about things such as windage and the effective range of their weapons, and fire without any significant effect; their arrows falling comfortably short of the airborne girl. Ezio has just enough time to climb over the drawn portcullis blocking off the castle entrance and evade the press of what must have once been knights stationed at its walls. The hollows here are closely packed and armed far better than the rank and file, and yet once he slips past them, they seem to completely turn a blind eye to him, forever watching for approaches from outside. Whilst the rest of the group is only just leaving the, now slightly richer, merchant, the two of them are able to hear voices echoing from inside, as well as the odd sound of steel hitting stone. The larger group won't have an especially difficult time circumventing the massive gates from the underbridge route Nathan and Amalthea already know about, especially with Ainsley's map.

Staren has posed:
Staren just sighs at Amalthea. Some people don't get it.

Staren is /slightly/ taken aback, but the merchant's explanation helps. "Ah, I get it... the more souls you have, the stronger you are!" he realizes. Then he shrugs. "Sorry, I don't have any spare souls to buy with." He reloads his underbarrel grenade launcher while he waits for his allies to move on. Looks like a 4-grenade internal tube magazine. He listens to Priscilla's explanation while he works.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
"My, what a gentlemen! Waiting so patiently to receive the lady~." Ezio may have a fairly hard time telling whether or not Mizuki's words are genuine, but if he had to guess...? He might think there was a little bit of sarcasm and sincerity both. And he would be right. Whatever the case, once any obstructions are out of the way, Mizuki daintily skips along the bridge to get a better view. She 'ooo's and 'aahh's almost like a child at a museum would, and her eyes have a spark of curiosity in them. Despite appearances, she really is enjoying herself right now, though she might remind Ezio a biiiit too much of the clueless and coddled from his homeworld for comfort.

Still, in it all, she doesn't let her guard down... too much. She keeps her sword drawn and her eyes peeled, the only lapse in her attention being the moment when she notices the cathedral. Her eyes widen slightly. Well! This is a lot easier when you can fly, isn't it~? She puts her hands on her hips and nods triumphantly before looking back to Ezio and waving.

Never has anyone looked more like monster food than she does right now.

Psyber (253) has posed:
"Yeah," Psyber says to Amalthea flatly, "Most of the hunters were concentrated in the Roman and Egypt areas. And the tribes never created a sustained analogue. So their population of supers went unchecked for centuries while the tribes were feuding. We finally rolled in about the fifth of sixth century. Took us decades, centuries, to clean it all up."

He shrugs tiredly, "You know how hard it is to put a nomad tribe whose rite of passage is lycanthropic infection in check? We spent two decades on that tribe alone they were so spread out by that point." He grumbles in annoyance. One of those anecdotes that serves to remind how old Psyber actually is.

He puts his cigar back into his mouth and then moves to walk after Nathan, covering him with his guns where possible.

Chris Rothschild (283) has posed:
Wait, 'this form'? The magus cocks his head at Priscilla. "...what's your true form?"

As the group heads away from the merchant, Chris pulls out his PDA again and runs the same spell as before.

So there.

But having little else to say, he stuffs it, and his hands, back in his pockets, and falls into step behind Amalthea, keeping his eyes on the surrounding buildings with a fair bit of suspicion.

Ezio Auditore (75) has posed:
Mizuki may be useful in his own way, but Ezio's a bit wary of the constant awe she shows, before a thought occurs. To be fair, he used to go after such girls as a young lad in Florence all those years ago, he might as well cut her a break. "I'd hate to leave you alone on your lonesome, my dear."

Ezio continues until he stops at the portcullis. He takes a mment to climb over it, careful to maintain balance while quickly mantling across and moving on the other side. He sees the hollowed former knights, frowning as he takes the high road across.

They're none the wiser, and Ezio continues onwards, wary and prepared for whatever lurks ahead.

Milla Maxwell (13) has posed:
"I see," Milla says, idly, to both Nathan and Priscilla. "How grim. I hope a solution can be found. I will ask more questions when we are not surrounded by the enemy."

Because, yeah, this is kind of an awful place for exposition.

She doesn't lag behind, and starts following after Nathan, Psyber and the others as they begin moving again. Efreet's form fades, becoming incorporeal again from his half-transparent state.

Nathan Hall (168) has posed:
Nathan has rejoined Mizuki and Ezio and likely the rest of the group after the arduous task of shuffling along behind Psyber while Psyber covers and possiby winds up shooting an assortment of awful, horrible monsters.

These monster-men continue to horrify and disgust him intensely. You'd think he'd be desensitized after a while. In any case, he's heading for the meeting spot that he's memories a variety of routes to above all else; noises therein are only mostly ignored, or alternately Nathan might just be oblivious to them.

Priscilla has posed:
The parish is something to see in of itself. It's like a miniature gothic cathedral, buttresses, pillars, ramparts and all. The rear of the building is taken up by the belltower the last group had worked so hard to reach, easily twice the height of the rest of the building. Unfortunately, the effect of reverence and awe is ruined the moment one looks inside the opened doors. Though the halls are practically untouched, down to the shiny church pews themselves, the floor is absolutely littered with bones; swept away and piled up into the corners for now, but the ground is still covered in their powdery, ashen white dust. For the two who had come here before, the sight is better than last time. The depressing abundance of personal belongings have been disposed of in some kind of effort to make the place presentable to pilgrims, rather than having them tread on the remains of the hundreds who had perished there; hemmed in on all sides by their former guards. A handful of men are already inside, clearly the group that Ezio had been told about before.

The rest of the group arrives not too far behind the two in front, having given them ample time to scout around. The hall appears to have recently been the site of a battle, judging by the prone, armoured and caped forms sprawled out on the floor. Thankfully, all give members are present, meaning no casualties were incurred. Oscar, the knight in armour wearing a blue and gold surcoat that matches Amalthea, is busy with Adalbert, another knight in a suit of plate that makes him look like an oversized onion in back; the two of them hammering and yanking away at what looks like a chain pulley. Cassius and Samuel, the robed swamp-traveller and the dour delta farmer in his old militia clothes, appear to be hauling bones out by the bucket and tossing them over the cliff edge. Sebastian, the fifth man in black armour, appears to be in the middle of recovering from a recent death. Ezio and Mizuki in the lead are treated to the sight of the man; gaunt, pale, scrawny and sunken-eyed, halfway to the complexion of a hollow; reaching down and picking up a peculiar, black, flame-like sprite burning above the chest of one of the fallen hollows. Upon clutching it in his hand, he presses it to his breastplate, and then shudders as it bursts into a strange, monochrome fog; bleeding through his armour. The sight of him gradually regaining complexion, muscle tone, and normal facial features, all over the space of a few seconds, feels stomach-turningly unnatural rather than relieving.

Upon hearing the sounds of footsteps outside, Oscar trudges over to the door, throwing out his arms to welcome the party. "Well met Sir Hall! Lady Amalthea! And I see Indra and our dear lady of Thorolund have made it as well! I even see Griggs! Well done!" The others look up from their appointed tasks, appearing varying shades of relieved despite the number of unfamiliar faces. "Come in! We've found the pulley system that used to connect the parish to the holy site of Firelink Shrine, but we've been bashing at it for hours trying to get it working again. If we can fix it, there will be no need to go through the burg any longer." The young lady in the group barely murmurs a word of thanks before pushing her way through the church, watched by Cassius and earning a grumpy snort and the muttered word "ungrateful" from Samuel as she makes a beeline for the Altar at the far end.

Ezio Auditore (75) has posed:
Ah good, friendlies. Ezio nods his head to Oscar and his fellows upon recognizing the armor they wear as similar to Amalthea's. He keeps bowing, before lowering his hood. "Well met, Sir Oscar. You look well for the circumstances, I see." He comments, sheathing his gunblade and holding out a hand for the knight to shake before continuing on.

He listens as Oscar explains the situation, nodding once more. "We have something of an expert in engineering with us here, though his expertise may be more advanced than what you may be used to." He says, motioning to Staren just as he spots the genius arriving.

He doesn't feel a need to hide his face among these people. They're allies, for the time being. Best to try and be as friendly as possible to keep everyone calm.

Chris Rothschild (283) has posed:
Fix it? Oh, there's something to fix! For once, a thing Chris might actually be able to help with. Now that they've finally set foot in the cathedral, he takes a few steps forward, not quite so hesitant to leave Amalthea's side for the moment. "What's wrong with it? If it's rusted, I might be able to help." He's not that good with metal outside of tech applications, but causing or removing rust are both fairly simple spells.

Psyber (253) has posed:
Psyber gives a pleasant enough greeting to everyone he doesn't know. He's not too forward or particularly exuberant, but he gives a pleasant wave to everyone. He doesn't know this crowd, so he's mostly just hanging around Nathan in case the wayward librarian needs more protection.

There's the soft metallic clattering as 12 spent revolver rounds hit the floor of the room before he starts reloading his handguns lazily.

Staren has posed:
On they go! A labyrinth, you say? Staren offers to just blow holes in the walls if it would help.

He takes in the cathedral, not sure what to make of the piles of bones. He nods to the knights greeting them... but at the mention of some kind of pulley mechanism, he steps up and retracts his visor to show his face. "Pulley system? May I see it?" Something to fix! Hopefully he can help.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
Mizuki's walk into the cathedral is touched by the same whimsy as her waltz on the bridge was, but not so much that she forgets to give the area behind her as she enters a good looking-over. There's ample space for enemies to be there... but thankfully, there isn't. It would seem that, sometimes, her expectations /can/ be defied in ways that she can smile about. So she does allow a grin to spread across her face before she spots Oscar.

When he begins to speak, though, her eyes narrow slightly. Her mouth pinches, making her lips pucker. An... elevator? Here? She thinks back. Nathan and company had killed a /dragon/, trekked past Faruja's God knows how many shambling undead... all of that when there was an /elevator/? Had she started at the shrine in question, she probably could've flown up a technical expert and they could've circumvented that whole --! But... ahem. Mizuki collects herself and brushes off her dress symbolically. She won't fuss over could-have-beens.

Instead, she again takes a position of demure silence while things happen around her, glancing between Chris and Staren. Surely, together they could fix a little elevator? Yes. Yes, she had nothing to worry about. But, er, wait - yes she does. She's forgetting that this place is littered with hostile monstrosities again. But that doesn't last long! Soon, she wanders closer to Psyber and Nathan. You know, just in case they need to speed into action and kill things for any reason. But... eh... she has to admit, she's gotten tired of the broody thing at this point. So she tries some idle conversation with Psyber and anyone near him.

"Picturesque day in Zombieland, no~?" Griiin~. Yeah, she's not even trying.

Milla Maxwell (13) has posed:
It's really too bad such a great place is in this sort of state. But then this entire world just seems sort of... barely holding on. From the reports, and from just being here. So really, that the cathedral still looks this good is probably a miracle. Better not complain too much.

Milla is not a repairman though. Better leave that to the actual people who know how that works. Instead, she asks, perhaps dumbly, "What is the Firelink Shrine, and how would it spare us a walk through the hollow infested areas?"

Nathan Hall (168) has posed:
BONES, TOO MANY BONES!!

Nathan doesn't like this place. He still doesn't like this damn place. But hey! Here's a social opportunity. "Well met, Sir." Nathan says, nodding back to Oscar. "A pleasure to see you still safe, may it last as long as it can. I see, good work." He follows along. "It would be extremely advantageous for us to be able to travel this far without harm, and make for a very useful travel method when we make excursions below."

He's gonna head on through ASAP, but mostly to supervise the others. "We have a few allies among my friends who may be able to assist you mechanically. Staren and Chris are the more relevant ones here. Ideally their combined expertise, abilities, and creativity ought to be able to get this travel system back in working order."

He's gonna follow along until he gets the chance to see what they're talking about and assess the situation, of course.

Priscilla has posed:
"It's rusted alright!" calls out Adalbert from the back. "And likely stuck on something to boot! I haven't the faintest how this confounded thing works! Raising one platform when one takes the other down is all well and good, but how precisely does one come /up/ when one steps on it?!" As Adalbert waves Staren over, Oscar takes Ezio's hand, shaking it with a firm grip, pleased to see another friendly face. "The same goes for yourself. Without the drake, these parts are less harrowing, but only just. Congratulations for a job well done!" Psyber's revolver draws an interested look from Sebastian, but Mizuki draws a much more blank stare, followed by the question "And what exactly is 'zombieland'?" Cassius is the one who goes as far as to offer an explanation to Milla, as distant and distracted as he sounds. "It's a holy place, though it's all in ruins by now. One of the last places still with a firekeeper. The shrine used to be part of this parish here, but it's all the way down a huge cliff wall, and the shaft down has been blocked by all this scrap iron forever. We thought it'd been sealed off, but it turns out this junk here was only blocking it all along. Who knew?"

Staren, Chris and Nathan find the elevator easily enough. At the very rear of the parish, a set of rather sophisticated looking steel gratings cover a pair of solid stone platforms suspended by a series of chains. Like Adalbert said, it's clear how they go down, but how exactly do they come back up? The man appears to be grappling with a hand crank exposed by removing bricks from the wall, tugging on the great rusted bulk to no avail. It's difficult to see where the chains even go, what with there being all this building in the way, but it seems as if there must be a spool somewhere within to wind up the excess and tension the chains for the next ride."

Unfortunately, the three of them do not get the chance to have a good look. In the middle of Oscar conversing with Nathan, the parish halls suddenly echo with the voice of another; speaking a strange, rumbling tongue nothing like the language any one of these people use. Again, both Nathan and Amalthea will find it familiar. It's the same tone as the strange, robed figure that Artorias had encountered before. The exact kind of "magical surveillance" Ezio had been warned of. The multiversal translation effect is barely helpful. From what anyone can hear, the towering figure in gold and blue, standing atop the second floor balcony, appears to be carrying on one side of a conversation with only himself. "Yes. More this time. Six new ones to be exact. Oh what have we here? Very, very old. Spirits. Intriguing, yes. None. Yes. Undoutably. Three potential candidates. All of them? Very well."

The translation effect fails as he resumes speaking, this time in a low, guttural chant that echoes alarmingly between the pillars, making it sound as if it comes from every direction. Flashing runes of golden light form in circles below the young lady praying at the altar, blazing bright a split second before she crumples to the ground with a yelp. Even more alarmingly, the same circles abruptly appear under both Milla and Mizuki; subjecting them immediately to what feels like a crushing sense of personal gravity. The air itself feels rigid and immobile, to the point where even a powerful human could barely stagger under it.

Chris Rothschild (283) has posed:
Chris stops a bit short of the elevator system in the back once he and Staren reach it. He looks it over once and lets out a low whistle, because it's impressive mechanism. He's about to take a step forward, when the hall fills with a rather ominous voice fills the hall. He stumbles back several steps, hand darting into his pocket at once; by the time he catches sight of the figure up on the second floor balcony, he's got that PDA up and ready.

Then a strange spell is hurled, and the young magus hisses a curse. Immediately, he's tapping away at his PDA until he can load up a simple, effective spell to hurl: A small thunderbolt. Only once he unleashes that does he go dashing towards Amalthea... and turn his magical senses to the spell unleashed on the three girls, seeing what he can sense about them.

Milla Maxwell (13) has posed:
"So a holy place will keep the undead at bay? Or merely the hollow?" Milla asks of Cassius-- a thought she'd like to finish with even more questions, before magic seems to crush the air around her to pin her down. There's a rush of wind, the likes of which you'd only see in a storm while outdoors-- definitely not in a cathedral. A small, green-haired boy appears next to Milla, forming seemingly out of the wind. He's got Cool Goggles on, but he isn't really looking too confident or happy right now.

Sylph strains, and the area around Milla stabilizes... barely. Just enough that she remain kneeling rather than crumpling down outright. "What is the meaning of this?" she demands (probably towards Cassius).

While Sylph remains with her to try and combat the spell, Efreet forms again, this time fully visible. The nine foot tall mass of flames and muscles immediatly makes a leap up towards the balcony-- anything between him and that man be damned, be it concrete, stone or metal. Claws reach out, and a bright red fire trails behind him. "You will unhand Lord Maxwell immediatly!"

Psyber (253) has posed:
Psyber gets a faint chuckle at the comment from Mizuki, "As good as couple be expected from a locale with such a reputation. And how are you, Miss Mizuki? Your spirits seem lifted from the last time I spoke to you." He is referring to her distressed radio message some time back, of course. But not saying so in mixed company, "It is nice to see your morale recovered."

Then things are beginning to happen and people are being attacked. He lifts both handguns again. If Sebastian is lucky, he may get to see a demonstration of how they work! For now, he's on guard and looking for the source.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
Mizuki had just been chuckling at Oscar and smiling to Psyber. In fact, her mouth is open to speak... but before any words can escape, shit hits the fan. Mizuki is jolted out of her stupor as the intense 'gravity' pulls at her. "Wh-What in Creation...??" This little girl is many things. She's agile, she's skilled, and she can actually be pretty strong. But if there is one thing she is -not-, it's hardy. Having her wings 'clipped' like this is, in a very, very real way, her own personal nightmare. She cries out as soon as she's able to realize what's going on. "H-Help...! Please! C'Can't...!" She struggles to keep in enough breath to speak. "... move...!" Her head slumps to the ground.

... that all happened way too fast for her.

Ezio Auditore (75) has posed:
The handshake lingers before Ezio releases Oscar's hand. He continues along before suddenly he hears that mysterious chanting noise in the distance. "Merda, now we have a problem..." He mutters, drawing his sword once more as he spots the man up on the second floor balcony. As Mizuki and Milla are bound by some sort of spell, Ezio levels his gunblade high, beginning to inch towards Psyber and Nathan to cover the half-angel's blind spot and keep a close eye on Nathan as well.

"Come on out...you can't hide forever in here..." He mutters, aiming Cold Embrace one-handed as he pulls the hammer back to keep it cocked on single-action.

Staren has posed:
Staren has a theory: "Well, for a mechanism like this, one possibility is having a counterweight somewhere that can be cranked up and then used to lift the platform... Chris, can you un-rust it somehow?" But further ELEVATOR ACTION will have to wait: There's a BOSS BATTLE starting! Staren hears ominous talking and looks around warily. He doesn't recognize it, but... is it hostile? It's hard to tell. When spell effects hit two of their number, though, that cinches it: His visor snaps closed, and Staren raises his right arm to aim the particle cannons -- then realizes that if he misses he might blow a chunk out of the church. "Tch..." He crouches as if to leap, and orange, insectile energy wings manifest on his back. He /leaps/ into the air, and the wings flutter as he flies up towards the man and draws his beam sabers. "I'll tell you what we're potential candidates for: KICKING YOUR ASS! Surrender and explain yourself, or die like the zombies outside!" Staren is not good at the nonlethal combat thing.

But he's not bad at the lethal combat thing. For now, he just tries to slash and stab with his energy swords. "RELEASE THEM!" he growls.

Nathan Hall (168) has posed:
Nathan isn't affected yet, so what he does immediately is the noncombatty thing. While everyone else is immediately rushing around to deal with the fights, Nathan goes for something else! The lady of Thoroland. While her companions can probably help her out, Nathan needs to deal with that spell first!

Crossing both hands in front of him, his blank-faced expression doesn't break even as he just slightly grits his teeth and tries to press his palm against the spell. EMERALD COUNTERMAGIC is applied at the spell applied to the noncombatant native, a low to mid-level attack designed to severely damage the inner workings of magical processes. Hopefully it'll break the spell!

"The enemy is targeting those of us with substantial spiritual potential. Focus on defending these targets." Nathan says, immediately, not bothering to track where the threat is coming from! He's just calling out from the altar.

Priscilla has posed:
Of course, nobody else assembled seems to be on guard for this development either. Immediately, the six men pick up their weapons, clustering together in the center of the hall in a sort of ring, probably drilled into them after enough ambushes. The two bodyguards immediately rush for their charge, one screaming for the robed figure to unhand the lady at once, before it gets even worse. As Chris throws his lightning bolt and both Staren and Efreet come in right after him, the enemy sorceror sees little value in staying there to be fried and sliced to pieces, and so all three of them find their attacks brushing through a translucent after image of their target; the air rippling with a royal blue shimmer as he reappears on the ground floor.

Taking such a disadvantageous position, both bodyguards double back from their prone mistress and charge straight for him, one going to swing his mace as another flings one of the recently purchased firebombs like a baseball. The mysterious figure has only to tap the base of his odd, three pronged staff on the floor, and a rippling wave of blue energy slams into them, sending both men sprawling and the firebomb sailing away. "Yes. Of course they are. I am eliminating them now." He says to no one in particular, eyeing Oscar's group through an ornate mask with six carved eyes and no actual eyeholes.

Cassius responds first, by casting his own spell, conjuring a blazing core of dripping fire into his hand and throwing it, accompanied by Samuel flipping his grip on his spear and chucking it like a javelin. A similar blast of pressure deflects them both, but none among them are stupid enough to charge straight on in, leaving the wave slamming into raised shields.

Tired of this distraction already, the sorceror looks towards what he presumed to be the greater threat. The tip of the gold staff begins to glow with a point of bright cyan light, leaving a searing afterimage as he waves it through the air. Like dripping candlewax, similar points of light are left hovering in the air, arcing around his head like a constellation of stars. As he slaps the base of his staff back on the floor, every individual sphere races off in a different direction, blurring through the air as they seek individual targets, curving in towards everyone present except the three girls, including both of Milla's spirits, and exploding with lethal force.

In the short few moments Nathan has to act, the countermagic appears to work just enough that the poor girl can crawl out of the circle, apparently defining the boundaries of its effect. All Chris has the time to sense is an overwhelming spike of raw, spiritual energy; as if a ghost had somehow collapsed under its own mass and become a tiny, incorporeal neutron star.

Nathan Hall (168) has posed:
Unless someone meatshields for Nathan, he's gonna take a magical shot straight to the torso and suffer a point-blank explosion of great force, ripping burns and blunt trauma all up and down his body. That is, only if nobody else has tanked his shots.

Now it's time to figure this out. Nathan immediately sets about utilizing his SCAN magical ability, attempting to determine the magical weaknesses of this target and call them out to his allies, and hopefully find more definition of his position if he tries to escape via afterimage again! He'll do this even while downed and prone from injury, if that's the case, but he won't be moving much.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
Mizuki is stuck firmly in place, and at this point she's probably lucky to still have her eyelids open. Or her eye-lid-, at least; one of them is still firmly shut. But with that one eye, she's able to observe the fight... and damned if she's going to be helpless in all of this!

Using every ounce of strength she has, she slowly drags her deadweight right arm in front of her, opening her fingers. Wincing, she slowly conjures a 'stasis field'... a tiny bubble locked around around a decent portion of the sorcerer's leg. Its function? Dramatic slowdown. If that doesn't work? Maybe, just maybe, the spatial distortion it produces will be enough to cut the jerk's leg off while he teleports away.

Staren has posed:
"Tch..." So he can teleport? Staren's slash whiffs and he immediately looks around. There, on the ground. Staren deactivates and stows the beam saber. He starts to reach for his laser rifle, but then in come the seeker spells -- Staren tries to take cover behind a pillar in hopes it won't go around -- if it does, then he's sent tumbling back a bit, his forcefield visible and possibly with a chunk blown out of it. Either way, he readies the laser rifle and aims down at the mysterious sorcerer, firing. Let's see him dodge /light/.

And if he does, Staren looks around and keeps shooting to try and keep the Sorcerer on the move and unable to counterattack. This may blow chunks out of the cathedral, but oh well, that's better than letting this guy capture the girls!

Psyber (253) has posed:
Psyber breaks off from the positioning with Ezio when Nathan moves, a bit of a delay in his movements. But not too much to prevent him from doing what he came here for. Like any good Secret Service, the half-angel takes a run and a dive, interposing himself between Nathan and the blast that is aimed right for him.

It connects cleanly in the center of his chest, blasting a hole in the center of his shirt and scorching his chest as he finishes his dive and lands on the ground. Some blood pools under him, but the wound also slowly knits itself healed, leaving his chest exposed through the hole in his shirt.

He pushes himself to his feet and goes back to covering Nathan, careful to watch for the individual to reappear and then opening fire with his revolvers, "Stay behind me, Nathan." He firmly commands.

Milla Maxwell (13) has posed:
Efreet rumbles and roars in anger; he's in the process of getting back to Milla, when one of the orbs smashes into him and explodes, causing his form to blur for a moment between physical and not. He slams onto the floor pretty hard from the second story-- but he's a hardy fellow, so he's already collecting himself and crawling back up.

Sylph on the other hand is not very sturdy or tanky, and busy as he is trying to keep Milla from being completely disabled by the field, gets hit pretty hard when the orb smacks into him. His focus on the winds ceases as he tumbles onto the cathedral floor, whining something about whether or not anyone caught that giant bird he crashed into again.

Milla is as a result unable to stand up any more than she already has, or even lift much of a finger to do anything. Rather than wind, it's water that starts forming a barrier around her now, as Undine appears. She's a fairly tall woman in all blue and white, her hair like a veil and her natural form looking like she's wearing a fancy dress, with her legs joined like a mermaid's.

"Lord Maxwell. That man is using a sort of magic that resonates energy not too unlike ours," Undine says, calmly. Efreet rumbles back nearby, and Sylph is... well, that floor sure is comfortable right now!

"That is... really not as useful information... as you would think at this precise moment, Undine!" is what Milla manages between efforts to not kiss the ground. She will, nonetheless, turn her spirit senses all the way up to eleven, and see what is here besides the Four.

Amalthea (395) has posed:
You know. Amalthea kinda likes Oscar. He's an alright guy, so the warm cordial greetings are returned pretty well, and this means the unicorn is kind of alright just hanging out while Chris and Staren have a look at the elevator. All's pretty well well and good until it's not. The unicorn was fairly at ease, though still had one ear pricked up by the time Things Start Happening. And just like that she's making a beeline to meet Chris half way before her shield is up, a firm yank ensuring Rothschild is squarely behind her when those spiritual projectiles goes flying means she's eating both his share and hers when the impact blows into the solid plate and transfers through the arm and shoulder behind it enough to bowl her back with a furious curse of indignant hissing rage. It is not a nice curse, it's an old one; the kind almost lost to time immemorial.
Psyber might know it.
But she rolls onto her feet smoothly in a crouch that maximizes the protective zone of her shield for herself and Chris.

Ezio Auditore (75) has posed:
Ezio makes sure Psyber and Nathan are covered while he takes aim at the sorcerer with his gunblade. Sighting him down, Ezio fires with a double-tap at the magic slinger multiple times at the seeker spheres aimed towards his direction. Ice shards sent at muzzle velocity will probably do /something/ to the projectiles.

Then he decides to be really proactive, making his way towards the sorcerer with blade readied as he runs serpentine style across the floor.

While he advances, Ezio fires at the wizard with more ice-rounds, before he manages a flying leap when he's in range for an assassination, sword raised to stab at him.

However well this works is up to the next few seconds.

Chris Rothschild (283) has posed:
Trying to sense the magic going on ends up being like trying to look at the patterns of stars only to realize the sun is up. Chris staggers and then finds himself flung behind Amalthea, stumbling into cover where he can simply rub at his forehead with a grimace. "Nh..." There's nothing on his world that can quite compare, at least that he's met.

C'mon, Chris, get it together, you're still under the gun. "Amalthea-!" His first course of action? Flinging out that ablative liquid-metal spell of his, the one that will both protect Amalthea and serve to repair damage to her as it happens. There's only so long it'll last, but hopefully it'll be enough. His second is to prep a different spell, one meant to make the sorceror's life difficult - his metal-disintegrating spell again, this time a more high-end and blatant application. It causes the air to flicker and shimmer as he flings it, and it's meant to turn any and all metal on the sorceror's person to useless rust in seconds.

Priscilla has posed:
The assorted men are send scattering like stones by the hail of spellfire descending upon them, either sent flying by the impact on an interpose shield, or diving out of the way just in the nick of time, rolling behind pillars and pews to seek cover from the fusillade. Nathan's rescued damsel can't even get in a word of thanks as she drags herself fully free of the spell circle, crawling as best she can behind the altar before the spell resumes at full force and craters the floor where she had just been laying. What Nathan can detect from the enemy isn't very helpful, but it is interesting. Asides obviously possessing a large amount of magical power and resistance, he appears to be engaged in the middle of a telepathic link. The readings he gets back in terms of weaknesses are astonishingly few. It is ample reason to wonder if there is actually a flesh and blood body underneath that robe, as it points towards no vitals in particular. Milla's more developed spiritual senses paint a stranger picture. The air here is thick and heavy with a haze of ghostly power, as if the remnants of all those who had died here, sans any form, rhyme or reason. Rather than being pulled into or concentrated around the sorceror however, he seems to exude it, as if being fed power from a secondary source. The spaces where the spell circles alter gravity seem to be doing so by pulling in this ambient field and dragging in space with it; something incredibly advanced for such traditional appearing magic.

The haze of blue energy appears again as the sorceror prepares to teleport, only to dissipate all at once as Mizuki's stasis field grabs hold of his leg, leading to him taking Staren's laser rifle straight to his chest, and a flurry of Psyber's gunshots in his back. Rather than a bunch of wet splattering however, the slugs riddling him from behind give off a sound like cracking glass, and instead of blood, the wounds spurt some kind of glittering, translucent dust. A hastily raised barrier blocks the brunt of Staren's laser, but the remainder blasts off the gaudy gold robes all around the sorceror's torso, revealing something blue and glassy instead of charred skin. Little more than a grunt escapes him, clearly numbed to the pain, if still staggering under the damage.

Apparently, he knows where the little trick anchoring him in place is coming from, because his eyeless gaze immediately turns towards Mizuki. The tip of his staff glows blue again as he prepares to cast another offensive spell, either intending to incapacitate her through force, or deeming her "acceptable losses". This spell is immediately rerouted to the volley of ice shards flying at him, intercepting them just like Ezio had done with his orbs.

Ezio's sword plunges about halfway into him, but the sensation is like that of stabbing into a solid block of wood, yielding more of that crystalline sand pouring from the wound. The enemy immediately responds with another blast of pressure to throw Ezio off. Chanting furiously to sling another spell with his teleportation cut off.

Levelling his staff straight in the direction of Amalthea, Chris, and Ezio, the light at its end converges into a white hot bolt of incandescence as wide around as a man. Oscar motions his men to get down just before it blows through the pillars at head height, phasing straight through the solid rock rather than destroying it, and barreling down on them with a chilling, incendiary screech. Not missing a beat, he turns around and hurls another one of those piercing spears of light straight towards Psyber, Staren and Nathan behind him. It's an impressive amount of magical power, but caught between so many elites, it's all the enemy can do to try and kill them before they can resume attacking him.

Priscilla has posed:
To Chris' advantage, while the sorceror's staff appears to be made out of some foreign metal or at least heavily enchanted, the medallions and wards all over his robe, while likely the same, are secured only by steel links. One by one, the protective amulets begin to fall off, clinking all over the floor like loose change, followed by a number of broken rings sliding off his gloved fingers.

Staren has posed:
Staren doesn't have to keep looking around and re-aiming: Mizuki's trapped the sorcerer in one, easy-to-shoot spot!

"Heh-heh, gotcha..." Staren flips the fire selector to burst mode and just starts shooting again and again, turning the full brunt of 25th-century man-portable laser technology on the sorcerer. He'd hit the guy with grenades and missiles too, but some of his allies are getting into melee, so that would be bad.

The Sorcerer throws some kind of magic. Staren's not the first target, so he sees it in action before one comes for him. Light, huh? Staren switches his forcefield to holy element and dives for cover. If it homes in on him then hopefully, whether he picked the right element or not, the forcefield can tank it, and it /is/ optimized to take energy attacks... In any case, two hits from anything but a stream of bullets /probably/ isn't enough to take the field down completely, though parts may shatter and cause some of the emitters on Staren's armor to overload and smoke.

One way or another, Staren recovers to continue shooting, and just keeps dumping massive amounts of concentrated heat and light into the sorcerer. Eventually it's gotta be too much and kill him (it?), right? "Told you..." he mutters, half to himself. "Potential candidates for killing your ass..."

Ezio Auditore (75) has posed:
His sword ripped out of the sorcerer's chest, Ezio finds himself knocked to the round. Skidding a few paces, he looks back towards the spell slinger to notice that the sorcerer's about to fire off a bolt of light energy. "-Damn!"

ROlling to the side in order to evade, Ezio raises to his feet as he produces a set of knives tipped with small plastic explosives on the grips. He manages his aim, before he hurls them at the wizard, the blades priming as they move to make impact before Ezio ambles to cover.

Psyber (253) has posed:
Psyber is bound and determined to see Nathan not get hurt this trip. And this shows in the fact that the half-angel forcefully imposes himself between Nathan and the incoming attacks. This means that Psyber takes not one, but two of those piercing beams of light square to the chest again.

The impacts, one after another, cause him to skid back a few inches along the floor, boots scrabbling for purchase before he rolls his shoulder and rights himself. The twin impacts has ripped open his chest pretty heavily, exposing some muscle mass and just a few white specks of bone underneath. His front is also soaked with blood.

He takes a deep breath and rights himself into a standing position from the hunched over one he was in a couple seconds ago. He dusts off his front and lets his regen start to close up the wounds.

Milla Maxwell (13) has posed:
Since the spell circles do not let up, it goes without saying Milla will be doing nothing except observing. Undine finally manages to form a full bubble of water around her; it's not much relief, but it's better than nothing. With a lot of effort on her part, she can keep the bubble from collapsing entirely.

Efreet huffs; he's not fast enough to close in with that sorcerer, even with everyone dogpiling him. He has a better idea. He slams his foot in the ground, and a few feet ahead, Gnome, the small mole-like creature atop a global of earth, bursts out of the stone, wobbling a bit. "Whuuuuu. Oh. That was a nice nap. Was it a bad time?" Gnome asks, and Efreet just visibly turns red(er) with rage. Gnome grins and slinks back into the earth.

As Efreet and Undine remain to cover Milla from any stray shots the sorcerer may be tossing about, Gnome suddenly emerges near the sorcerer, coming out of the cathedral floor as if it were water. The Great Spirit of Earth wobbles on his ball of dirt.

And then the individual bricks of the cathedral reshape themselves like hands, lunging towards the man. They try to grab and crush him, or just backhand him in the face in general.

Milla is mostly hoping the spell circles go away when this guy falls down, because their construction seems like it could make them autonomous.

Chris Rothschild (283) has posed:
Throwing out that much metal-disintegrating magic in one burst leaves Chris gasping and panting - sheer fortun leaves him on the ground behind cover when the blast from the sorceror passes overhead, and he immediately flings himself flat just to be sure of avoiding it. And for the moment, he just takes a few breaths, trying to recover from what amounts to a dead sprint after a... well, dead sprint.

Amalthea (395) has posed:
There are no words for how useful the application of Chris' liquid metal cure-all is for Amalthea. The impact of the initial magical bolts having jammed her arm into making a nasty grinding sound until the almost mercury-like spell-substance slides into joints and gets them working properly again.
New issue however comes in the face that he's aiming for her and the magus AGAIN. And this time it looks like something even she isn't so stubborn as to want to try and eat with her shield.
"Oh fuck."
It is an apt assessment as she moves to give Chris the hardest shove she can to get him out of the way- only to find that he's done it for her already. So she flings herself in the opposite direction, tumbling into a completely unceremonious roll that she scrambles to get up from. Now she's looking pretty pissy, though, eye bloodshot as steam hisses and vents from her knees and shoulders, the unicorn tightly grips the plasma-edged sword in her grasp as she props herself on hands and toes, like a sprinter on the block, she flings herself forward, snarling as she makes to thrust the superheated plasma-edged blade as hard as she can at the caster's torso.

Nathan Hall (168) has posed:
Psyber takes the next hit for Nathan Hall again. "I understand." Nathan says simply, keeping behind his good friend. "Thank you, Psyber." There's a deep and genuine nod of respect and gratitude there before Nathan immediately sets about work. Twice now they've encountered this guy specifically in the area of the parish. According to Milla, he's using local spiritual energy for this! Thanks, Milla! Now Nathan knows what to do, even if he's the one EXUDING that power too.

So it's time to attack THAT! Chanting in the Old Realm language of Creation, Nathan immediately sets about performing a technique he hasn't done in years: A thaumaturgical maneuver of exorcism in Creation referred to as BANISHMENT. He attempts to directly engage the GHOSTLY POWER being exuded by the enemy, utilizing his own willpower to attempt to clear at least some portions of the chamber of it, trying to cut off the GHOST POWER for the spellcircles early so that those within will have an easier time of using their own offensive gestures.

That is, if the spiritual paradigms line up right at all, and if Nathan's moderate willpower is even enough for something like that.

Mizuki (183) has posed:
Mizuki focuses on the magic field around her while struggling to keep the stasis bubble around the sorcerer's leg held. She smirks. Even in such a helpless position, it's as if she's put the target on his head for others. Though... is she satisfied with that? Well, would she /ever/ be satisfied with anything less than perfection? Abso ~ lutely not. Now, this is a crack shot, but it's an idea - and it's not like she's got anything better to do while her friends smash this guy's face sideways.

Harnessing all of her energy, she summons another stasis field. This one, though, isn't meant to slow down her enemy, or even keep him in place - this one is meant for her. With all of her strength, she hoists herself up from the ground, passing through the stasis field for a burst of speed. And that burst of speed is just enough to get her on her feet.

Once she's standing, she grins. She's under a tremendous amount of pressure and she's fading fast, but if she uses her fields creatively one last time... she should be able to make this work. She wraps both of her arms in speeding fields this time and, using both of her arms, she lifts her blade skyward.

As soon as she has her sword in the sky, she lets her arms fall back toward Earth, slicing a rift in the sky in front of her. From it, two girls emerge, their hands linked. The younger-looking one with pink hair grins a toothy grin. "You rraaannnggg, Mimi~?" In that moment, Mizuki collapses to the floor... but no words are needed for either of them. The older, silver-haired one is quick to identify their target. "It would seem the assailant is over there." She smiles to her sister, calm and pleasant. "Shall we~?" The pink-haired one returns with an emphatic nod. "Yuh~huh~!" And with that last word... they're off.

Moving far more quickly than she be feasible even for some advanced vehicles, each of them dash forward on opposite sides of the room. Ultimately, though, they both end up in the same place: directly in front of the offending sorcerer. Clutching their scythes, each of them lift them with the intention of dropping a few metric tons of metal and force on his torso and skull. That is, if he actually has those things.

Priscilla has posed:
Where the raw power of Staren's advanced weaponry is exceptionally effective and blasting down the swiftly diminishing magical field protecting the sorceror, especially now that all of his bolstering rings and charms are gone, light based weaponry appears to have trouble with a body so heavily altered with that strange, magic crystal. The heat diffuses through the semi-refractive material, leaving glowing craters in his body, but not having the desited effect of blowing him to pieces all at once as a laser of that power probably should. Unfortunately, Staren seems to have made a critical miscalculation in dialing his forcefield. Soul Spear is not a spell of even close to holy alignment, is known for its incredibly high piercing potential. His armour may have to take some of the blow for him as raw soulmass partially phases through the energy barrier. It's a testament to Psyber's sheer spiritual power that he's still alive after being hit twice by similar.

Being hammered from up above by Starenesque sniper fire, it's all the sorceror can do to swing his staff at the explosive knives Ezio launches his way, knocking them aside with that irritating rush of blue energy, only for them to detonate right in his face anyways. Unfamiliar with more advanced, concussion based explosives, the shockwave easily overpowers the magical pressure and sends crystal dust exploding out all of his back wounds. Staggered by the sheer force hitting him, it leads straight into a combo attack from Millia's earth spirit, the pillars closest to him smashing and breaking pieces of that fractured crystal right off of him; the only hint of his origin being the glimpses of bone visible underneath.

Whatever being the caster is, it must be freakishly tough, or at least have been made to be so, because even after that thorough of a beating, he still has a firm grip on his staff, still chanting a constant stream of forgotten language as he levels the point at Amalthea like a beam cannon, preparing something even bigger to fire at her point blank. The most unlikely of heros, Nathan Hall, comes to the rescue, as his bizarrely appropriate power not only drives the soulmass from the sorceror's surrounding area, but seems to oust the telepathic presence straight from him. The difference is tremendous. The spell at the tip of his staff fizzles almost completely, launching an arrow sized bolt instead of one the size of a pillar, absorbed by Chris' ablative armour before the plasma sword goes slamming through the chest wound Ezio had made earlier, transfixing him on the spot.

Whatever he thinks of Mizuki's bizarre and eccentric form of casting will likely never be known. With the amount of damage the enemy cast has taken, and deprived of his ability to gather or recieve power, these is little he can do as the twin scythes smash what pitiful amount of his ward is left and take both of his arms off with such force that Amalthea would be well advised to hop back. There is a sharp, resounding crack that bounces around the room, and then the robes crumple into a little tent on the floor as he simply falls into several pieces. Thankfully both both girls, the moment it happens, both gravity circles lift immediately.

Staren has posed:
/Through/ the field! For a tiny fraction of a second, Staren is terrified it will go right through his armor too-- and then it slams into his armor, sending him tumbling with a spiderweb of cracks around the impact area, but he's in good enough shape. When he finally wears down the field and sees that his weapon is... ineffective, Staren frowns a bit. "Gah..." Still, before he can finish switching weapons, his allies finish the job. Staren slings the rifle over his back, then flies out over the others. "Is everyone alright?" Staren looks to Priscilla, hovering in front of her. "What the hell was /that/?"

Mizuki (183) has posed:
For a final time, Mizuki picks up her head. And when she does, she sees the most beautiful display of gore that she has witnessed in many a year. The arms of her assailant are whopped off in a grand display of shimmering lights and clashing metal, and when they've finished their task - and righted themselves - they both give curtsies to their falling opponent. Just as she would have, Mizuki thinks to herself, just as she would have. She has never been so proud.

Then her head slumps to the ground, her still somehow immaculate hair cascading over her visage. The two little reapers rush to her aid, only to find that she's sleeping. Pfff, oh well. There will be other, better times for drama.

Psyber (253) has posed:
Still alive, but definitely not at the top of his game. The half-angel lets out a cough that contains equal parts blood and errant organ material, letting it hit the floor with a wet splat. Seems that for the external damage, there was some internal damage from piercethrough.

He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, then cleaning the hand off on his jacket. Twirling his hands, he tosses both guns up into the air, taking out his pad a moment later and writing something on it before they're sucked into the notepad. And then he's taking out his cigar again, "Ugh." He grunts, looking down at the slowly healing blast-mark in his chest.

"I really hope we don't meet too many more of those."

Nathan Hall (168) has posed:
This is one of the few times Nathan comes back from one of these excursions without, like, a fractured rib, or a ton of bruises all over. Cool. Nathan stands and quickly offers to help Psyber with wounds if he needs the assistance, or in, you know, standing, if he needs that too.

He then sets about checking the status of the natives! First the VIP, the lady from Thorolund, then he checks the status of the other scholars and knights, making sure to thank them individually and personally for their efforts to help, trying to foster positive morale and ensure good social standing for the Union among these survivors.

Milla Maxwell (13) has posed:
The circles break! Milla actually hits the floor at that moment, from the sudden complete imbalance. She is helped up by Undine, as Sylph limps his way over with all the grace of a small boy who got smashed really hard. Gnome slumps into unexistence again, and Efreet is just kind of really angry but somehow controlled at the same time.

"That was... interesting. And about as painful as that mana draining Spyrix I was saved from a month or two ago. I must mirror Psyber's thoughts in hoping we do not cross their paths another time."
Efreet huffs. "Next one we meet I'm breaking his face before he can say one word."

Priscilla has posed:
Priscilla seems to have taken an oddly passive stance for the entirety of the fight. Maybe simply not keen on getting caught in the crossfire, she seems to have stood outside for the entire thing; extremely unlike her. On the other hand, her scythe seems to have been in her hand the entire time, trembling with a white-knuckled grip. "That, Sir Staren, was a channeler. An agent of the duke. They were not nearly so powerful last I knew of them, nor were they altered by crystals. I cannot imagine what he couldst gain from capturing women of spiritual power, other than to act even more unforgiveably than he already has." With the pressing threat gone, the poor girl who had been caught up in the whole affair finally pokes her head out from behind the altar, clearly shaken, but physically unharmed. "Rhea . . . I am Rhea, of Thorolund." She replies to Nathan's gestures of good faith. "I . . . cannot thank you enough for all you and your companions have done." Surprisingly, even the bodyguards, pulling themselves up off the floor at last, seem to be acting a little less recalcitrant. One of them is still mumbling incomprehensibly, but the other manages to be the big man and say "Sorry for . . . well, doubting you before. Did a whole lot more than I managed to. Fat lot of good I am at this." Oscar is the first to get up and pat the young lout on the shoulder, shaking Nathan's hand whether he wants him to or not. "It was not a foe we could have tacked without you. We are only so strong for the time being. In the future, we shall see."