The Battle Majestic (Round 4 - Magpie Skies)

The Battle Majestic (Round 4 - Magpie Skies)
Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
Originally posted on MSPA by Drakenforge.

I see...


Wolf padded silently through the undergrowth at the rim between forest and beach, trailing behind the group of bipeds. Since Sen was nowhere nearby, and Wolf's nose readily tuned to know that he was located just a few hundred lopes in the other direction, he had decided to listen in on the de facto group discussion.

Manipulating the truth. The furred one was devious. He employs tailless word tricks. Lies. Such a thing was like a crime to Wolf. Truly animals were higher than that, to resort to falsehoods to fool members of their own kind.

Or similer kind at the least. Of course, Wolf had found one thing about the discussion that he found out of place. Vexmagog uttered a new form of yip-yap talk to the females, seemingly with practiced ease. And Wolf could understand him.

He had only heard one tailless language, and didn't think there was anything more. Yet the dark-skinned-taillesses spoke differently, and Wolf, not knowing why, could understand them. The devious Vex could also understand them though, and was playing them a fool with their own tounge.

To make them believe such lies... Well, I need a plan, that's for sure. He wants Sen dead, and that would leave me out of a... Whatever he is to me. Only the cub Steven knows my tounge speaks tailless. Hmm. I could warn the taillesses, but He could easily manipulate them again. What about the boy? Tell him he's being duped? No, the lies are too great for him to understand the severity of the situation.

Behind him, Wolf heard the tortured sceam of his pack leader. He could smell the resin the creature used as blood even from this distance.

A shame. Forgive me, pack leader. I will assist you if the chance arrives, but until I do this task, I cannot falter. Hunt well Wolf prayed to himself.

Wolf knew nothing of human stories. Certainly none involving bad wolves eating old people in their homes while their cubs brought them morsels of food. Still, he had the vague knowledge that the tribal huntresses had mentioned pack leaders of wisdom, and that they would know what to do. Without them... Who knew. Wolf would think of a plan when he was done. And that was that, as Wolf quickly sprinted through the bush, silently, quickly, towards the tailless camp.




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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
Originally posted on MSPA by redskap.

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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
Originally posted on MSPA by redskap.

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<I thought he was different...that he didn't want anyone to die. I guess I was wrong.>

Blitz walked along behind Vexmagog and the women that were leading him, a little more sand sneaking into his shoes with every step. Every once in a while one of the amazons would look back at him and throw a distrustful glace. He tried his best to ignore them as his legs moved and his mind worked. <But he's right, really. At least when it comes to our having a slim chance of escape. This is a nowhere-land...no technology that can help us get out of this mess.> He clenched his fist and a small crackle of electricity ran down his arm. His mouth opened, his voice barely above a whisper.

"But that doesn't mean we need to give up so soon. There's still a chance...death should be our absolute last resort." Vex should have known that. <I don't want to believe that I'm alone in this. It was probably his arm making him think that way; He'll be back to normal soon.> He finally realized that the terrain had changed. The sand had long ago given way to a dirt path so rich and fertile that it was almost black. He took a glance backward to see if the beach was still close; the trees were so thick and lush that he could hardly see back twenty feet. The only way was to follow Vex and the natives...and they were barely visible in front of him. He was falling behind, and he definitely didn't want to be lost in this dense jungle. He started taking steps faster, going back into the shelter of his mind.

<Maybe this place we're going will have some sort of transportation technology, or even magic? Or maybe some power we can use against the orchestrators of this supposed battle? I just...> His thoughts trailed off into nothingness. He was grasping at straws and he knew it. There was almost no way they could get out of this place aside from someone dying. And...well...Sen was a valid choice. It didn't seem to have the same kind of mind as everyone else. It was more primal, and seemed to have no directive except to make plants or something. But...it seemed so innocent, so uncaring about the battle. If you thought about it like that, Sen was probably the least deserving of death. It didn't want to be a part of this ordeal, and didn't even seem to even realize that it was in a battle. It just...was. It did what it did, and only defended itself when provoked. And, he supposed, the plants it created. But that still wasn't a reason to-

He bumped into one of the warrior women, unaware that the group in front of him had stopped. She shoved him back and he fell down, landing on his bottom. Before he even had a chance to try and stand up, the point of a spear was at his throat and she was loudly speaking at him in her strange language. He attempted to shuffle back from her, still on his rear, his left arm beginning to tremble. She took a step forward to keep with him, the spear still mere centimeters from his chin. Vexmagog heard her outburst and spoke some of their gibberish. Blitz's attention was drawn to the satyr, and he saw that Vex was awfully close to one of the women...her hand was over his, and every so often she would look up at him, her face dark and a smile touching the edges of her lips. His attention was diverted from the two, however, by the removal of the weapon from his neck. Vex nodded at him, and he heard a voice in his mind.


Get up. We're here.

He stood at the command, and his mouth fell open. He was amazed that he hadn't already seen it, but he supposed one's life being threatened took precedence of examining the surrounding area. The temple was massive and held an unearthly beauty; it looked like it was crated from parts of the rock of the volcano, and there was a bit of a dangerous feel to it. The large designs and creatures carved into the outer walls were strange and alien. There were even things appeared to be some sort of gargoyle at symmetrical points along the top of the construction.

This place was giving Blitz the willies. And he didn't know exactly why. Vex would take care of whatever might go wrong, though...that he was sure of.


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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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The alien sniggering faded as the light was squeezed from the pit, Sen letting himself emit a whimper as Jacob disappeared behind a shield of tough roots. Something in the green beast's gut churned over, and a pale, watery glow lit up the well. Sen shook his head, blinked up at hearing the hacking change pace into something more methodical, and padded gingerly around with his mangled hand to seek out his wayward digits in the gloom. Several moments of scouring the rocky soil yielded fruit in the form of two now-withered twigs, shrivelled and clearly dead even under the Tender's mean phosphorescence. Picking them up with a slender, bereft hand, Sen felt the prickle beneath the scabby bark upon his terminated fingers, itching to be a means and not a painful end again.

The creature didn't waste time trying to uselessly adhere the deadwood to the green. Instead, the toothy, glowing maw opened, a snaky tongue weaving up to drag the dead fingers past the gauntlet of needles before Sen swallowed with a clicking gulp.

Nothing visibly happened to interrupt the insistent, rhythmical thunks of sword on wood far above. The curious gel which comprised the Tender, meanwhile, almost bubbled with activity as it interpreted what Sen had ingested. In the same manner with which Sen had learnt to grow fire-resistant bark after dining from a tree with similar properties, the pods ricocheted between them a new set of data gleaned from his own severed fingers. His tail lashed around as neural systems went into a personal overdrive, the unlit pod in its thin glowing membrane carving a strange path through the gloom of the pit. Staggering a little as the rush of information became too much to consciously comprehend, Sen rested his snub head upon one of the roots which was holding this bolthole up. Despite all logic claiming otherwise, a shoot burst from the grubby wood and swiftly became a spine of hardwood upon the Tender's barely-conscious whim. Head still hazy with the ramifications of the fingers he had just eaten, Sen snapped off the fresh twiglet, crunched it up, and ate it.

If reattaching a new finger was impractical, the Tender could simply regrow one. And unlike a regular plant, the regrowth would be better adapated to deal with what had destroyed it in the first place.

The tough, dense fibres crept from the stumps, timidly at first, but then marginally faster as the scaffold was constructed and the burgeoning fingers could concentrate on an improved form - Sen was building himself an exoskeleton of iron-hard heartwood, and flooding the insect-like digit with green goo. The result was cumbersome, certainly - compared to the fluid positioning of joints in his other fingers, the four-segmented fingers felt cramped and clunky. On the bright side, the tips were sharper than ever, and rapped satisfyingly on a pebble as Sen thoughtfully drummed his new toes as he glanced up at Jacob. The chronomancer's earlier incoherent rage had subsided to simmering, intensified fury, as he now employed his sword as an axe to hack through the mat of roots.

The Tender dug its new complement of toes into the earth (which he calculated to be unpleasantly rocky, minimal of nutrients, but oddly warm) at the bottom of the dark pit, and chrrr-ed pensively.

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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Reserved. I lied. Still writing.
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
Originally posted on MSPA by Baphomet.

Vexmagog had passed off the right arm, fairly convincingly, as an attempted curse by the shadow devils, which had failed to take root by virtue of the shadow-destroying golden spear. He had fastidiously enumerated the history of this false artifact, its illuminating properties, and its sharpness too great to even feel its pierce. He had told tales about the many great battles he had fought with it, even working some of the gods they had mentioned into them. With matters of faith, such as the ones these women participated in, the details told in riddles and rhymes by men in a drug-induced trance could easily be overruled by a living, breathing otherworldly presence telling you how it really happened. Mohea and the majority of the now-doting gaggle of followers were enthralled. All but one. Nalu did not seem to have the same temperament as the others, and perhaps had been eager to rebel against their shamaness's telling of their fate for a reason besides self-preservation.

Vexmagog's interest was piqued by the women's powerful matriarchal society, and the more debaucherous side of him was attracted to Mohea purely for the challenge presented in making a leader of this group his. This attraction led him to fail to notice as Nalu backed up from the group and fell into step in front of Blitz.

Mohea gestured toward the towering temple grounds as it first came into view through the dense trees, and Vexmagog feigned familiarity. In truth, he was faltering - not because of the imposing physical facade presented by the temple's outer adornments, but because of something more subtle.


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Born form Magog strained to find himself sleeping, but could not. He strained to peel back the edges of order around him, but was limited by this new piece of himself. He tried to dream about things that were not of this new consciousness's experience, but was again limited. He was now the dream, but no longer the dreamer. Not a spiral, but a vertical line at which he was not the top; omnipotent, but impotent.

After decades, he sank in. He fell deep into his prison-hole, and deigned to offer his presence to the lord of that pit. He found, instead, that his form of chaos was not entirely absent from his warden. He found cracks and crevices that he could slip in, and with effort, widen. It was easier in the beginning, but the pit learned soon enough to hamper his intrusion. It could not, however, stop him entirely, and its attention was often devoted to other things.

In these times, Magog felt his influence widen beyond the scope of his prison-pit. The order-shapes were his to mold, albeit more slowly, and in a much more limited capacity than before. Except in some places. Places owned by other gods. This chaos named Vexmagog was not opposed to order, but rather allied with six other forces, each with their own place. These places could not be corrupted, could not be shaped. It was in these places that Vexmagog would often indulge in his passions, teasing Magog at his inability to stop him.

Soon, chaos Vexmagog was torn from his access to these places. He was told to battle to the death with seven others, now six. Magog rejoiced, and redoubled his efforts. He sought a form that was suitably chaotic, and soon found six. Small, circular, nearly unlimited potential, and protected only by tooth and green nail.

His pursuit of the objects was hampered by Vexmagog's discovery. How he found this eighth unchanging place was lost to Magog, but its looming stone entry and its immutability told Magog one thing:

A god lives here.
[/color]

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Nalu's steady gait before Blitz ceased suddenly so as to cause him to bump into her. For this slight, he was shoved to the ground and menaced by the business end of one of the many spears slung across the woman's back. "Watch who you touch, uki-na," she spat in his direction, doubtless aware that he would not understand.

Vexmagog found translation of the pejorative difficult, as it represented a concept not present in his native vocabulary. His best guess was that it referred to a man immune to the effects of the ko-uki fungus, the compound responsible for the seers' visions, and thus a man resigned to a life of menial labor. Regardless, he stepped in to defuse the tense situation.

"Nalu, please. This is not a man of your world, here by no fault of his own. I ask that you treat him with the respect you would give the other women." His barely-contained smirk was apparently invisible to the others, as Nalu took a step back and Mohea was apparently awed by his kindness to the lesser beings.

Blitz was visibly shaken by the encounter, but Vexmagog decided that going so far as to help him up would show weakness to the women, who were still wary of a dominant male presence. Instead, he altered the sounds of the wind and the trees and the native fauna in Blitz's mind.

Get up. We're here.[/color]

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Shamaness Amali knelt beside one of the prone male figures adorning the chamber. Turgid mumblings, incoherent but lyrical, escaped their lips as they rolled about the decorative rugs covering the stone floor. The aged woman's eyes closed as she took in the hum, the ever-changing song whose lyrics it was her job alone to discern. Such a task had been shrouded in riddles and mysteries - tongues tied by the sight of the divine did not speak plainly, after all.

That is, they had not, until this morning. All 59 men jolted upright in unison, their eyes lolling back in their heads, their hands frantically grabbing their own faces, their chests. She had nearly keeled over in fright, and had barely composed herself before they shocked her again.

The men had spoken, in unison, their voices reverberating through the stone chamber. "The world will end," they said. "Seven devils will arrive, and the world will end."

Following the outburst, a unified dull thud as they all fell back down to the rugs at the same time. She was speechless, but had passed on the message to her tribe. That was her duty.

A duty she was having a hard time attending to again, after such a revelation. Clarity of message was not something she was accustomed to dealing with, and knowing that such clarity was possible left her present task feeling hollow. Had all the messages she had delivered dutifully from the gods in the past been mere ramblings of these stupefied men? Had the gods truly been silent on all these other affairs? Had her methods of divination, passed down from her mother, and from her mother's mother, on and on as long as anyone could remember, been based not on this insistent droning in which she was currently immersed, but on absolute definitive messages such as this morning's?

Her thoughts were interrupted by another woman entering through the curtained chamber door. She bowed low, as was customary, and delivered her message.

They had captured one of the devils.[/color]

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Vexmagog followed Mohea to the round stone opening of the temple, but the women trailing behind began shouting and drew their spears at something in the jungle. Vexmagog turned in time to see Wolf, who shied away from the attention and retreated back into the cover of the foliage.

Not knowing his disposition, but recalling his "allegiance" with Sen, Vexmagog proceeded with a short acknowledgment. "He is one of the seven. Please try not to kill him, but be wary. I have not gauged his temperament yet."

The interior of the temple was as exquisitely adorned as the exterior, if not more so. The walls were lined with golden carvings. The entry hall was immense, with many passages veering off further into the mountainside. It was clear that a small tribe such as this one could live exclusively inside this structure without need for additional shelter.

Walls and ceiling sloped to meet a point high above the center of the wall opposite the entrance. It was at that far point that the group was led, towards the most heavily-adorned doorway.

The women stopped Blitz's approach with a simple head shake. Vexmagog nodded to him, and he stood still with the women at the entrance. Vexmagog along with Mohea, Nalu, and a handful of others entered the tunnel.

At the end of the darkened hallway was another, smaller room, with curtained doors leading off in both directions. At the far wall, the shamaness sat, flanked by several other women beside her, while still more were surrounding something in the center. Vexmagog noticed a few men as well, sitting dutifully with their heads bowed, their eyes never straying up to the level of the women.

The women ceased their unidentifiable action and parted, revealing Steven bound on the floor in their midst, while Nalu ducked out a side passage. They had evidently been interrogating him, but it was not clear what had transpired or how long he had been there. He turned and saw Vexmagog, his face shifting rapidly between a wide range of emotions. "[/color]Vex!" he began with excitement, quickly shifting to disappointment, "They got you..." There was a pause as his eyes darted over the woman hanging on his side, then confusion. "...Too?"

Quickly realizing that, thanks to the language barrier, Steven could not have told them anything to compromise his lies, he ignored the man for now. Building and maintaining connections with as many visible parties as he currently found himself in the scrutiny of was especally taxing, and he left Steven out of the equation to save the effort, save for a brief "Stay quiet," shifted from the crackle of torches.

Nothing could go wrong. Vexmagog had been preparing for this moment. He bowed low and began crafting his masterpiece.

The torch-cast lights dimmed low in the presence of the warm, radiant glow now shining forth from Vexmagog, head bowed, arms outstretched. His voice came with the same warming quality as the light, and seemed to carry with it kindness and familiarity. "Greetings to the people," he began, not raising his head until he finished, "I am Vexmagog, God of Light. I have come to save you."

He stood, keeping his arms outstretched, his cloak spread wide behind him. His entirely-blue, alien eyes met the shamaness's, and some of the light around him focused, took shape, and congealed in his right hand as a golden spear. "Seven shadow devils have come to this island to end it, bringing with them seven beings from another world, whose bodies they mean to steal. These beings are here of no fault of their own, and that man," he pointed to Steven, "is one of them. I ask that you spare their lives."

Everyone present was shocked into inaction. Several of the women backed away from Steven, while some stood resolute. After an appropriate pause, the shamaness (apparently aware of the rules of theatricality herself) spoke up. "Vexmagog. I have never heard such a name spoken in the people's history. How are you unknown to me?"

Vexmagog responded quickly and with confidence. "The shadow devils have long labored to wipe my name from your history. They believe, falsely, that my protection of you and all born of this land will cease if I am forgotten. They may have worn away my images in this temple, and taken the memory of me from your ancestors, but I have returned at last from many long years of imprisonment to end them forever. I ask only for you to assist these other beings. Take them in as your own. Do them no harm. With your promise, I would return to my hunt."

"We saw one of the shadows," Mohea interjected, placing a hand on Vexmagog's arm. "It attacked us, but he killed it with his golden spear."

Another pause. A look of deep concern etched itself slowly across the elderly woman's face. "This is a lot to take in. I find it more likely that this is some sort of trick. Prove to me that you are a genuine god, and you will have my promise."

Vexmagog's heart raced. He'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, the coup de grace. It would make or break his performance here. He held back the smile itching to spread across his face, sighed deeply, and replied, "Very well."

With that simple utterance, he hurled the golden spear directly into the chest of the shamaness.

The women jumped in shock and began to shout as they saw her body go limp and fall to the ground. Vexmagog held his hands high and bade them be still in a deep voice. "She is with me now, and I will bring her back," he said, stepping towards the body.

The shaman woman saw the spear pierce her breast and embed itself. she felt no pain at the wound, only cold. Her entire body went numb, her vision grew dark, and everything went still and quiet.

Out of the black stepped a figure. Vexmagog, shrouded in light, smiling. She tried to speak, but found herself unable. "Do not fear, Amali. This is not your time."

He placed his four-fingered hand over her heart where the spear had pierced, and she felt warmth return to her.

The women watched as Vexmagog walked over to the body, grasped the spear firmly, and pulled it out. The wound instantly closed, and no blood spilled from it. The spear disappeared in a shower of golden flakes, and Amali's eyes opened with a gasp.

Steven, however, had the most amusing perspective on the proceedings. Vexmagog entered, spoke gibberish, spread his arms wide, and flung an empty arm in the woman's direction. Her attendants started and quickly ceased shouting, while the woman herself gained a blank expression and started speaking haltingly, as if she couldn't hear what she was saying. Vexmagog walked up to her as she lost her balance and tipped over, guided her down to the ground, then pantomimed pulling something out of her chest.

"You have my promise," she said, after checking her chest and allowing her breathing to return to a more normal rate. "If there is anything we can do to help you, please..."

"Now that you mention it," he replied with a smile, "this physical form is in need of some nourishment, as I'm sure are the bodies of the outsiders."

"Yes. Yes, a feast is certainly in order. I will send out the remainder of my huntresses to locate the others, and tell those that have already departed the news."

"Good. One thing, though. One of the outsiders should be dealt with differently: a large green beast with a long tail. While I would still prefer that it not be killed, it is... well, dangerous. Both to your huntresses and to me. As it is not a shadow being, it is almost more dangerous to me than they would be. I am obligated in this form to obey certain rules. I am not sure whether it has been corrupted by shadow devils, or it is simply a feral beast. Regardless, it should be captured, subdued, and I would like to enlist the aid of the huntresses and the other outsiders in that task."

"If it poses a danger to us, why not kill it now?"

"The shadows can only hold as many outsiders here as their numbers. This beast is the most dangerous thing they have found so far, but who knows what other types of beasts they will pull involuntarily into this world if they are given another opening?"

"I see. As you wish, you and the outsiders will be alerted when the creature is found."

Vexmagog smiled and nodded sagely. He shot Steven a knowing wink as some of the women moved to untie him. Vexmagog turned and left, Mohea following close behind.

Nalu silently stood from her spying position beyond the curtain separating the room from the side hall. While she wasn't sure exactly what had just transpired, she had the gist of it. The horned one was tricking the shaman, and everyone else in the camp. Rather than indignation, she felt something else.

She felt an opportunity.

She quietly retreated down the side hall and returned to her living area.

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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
Originally posted on MSPA by Weldar.

Steven enjoyed a long uncomfortable trip through the forest. Eventually he reached thew magnificent temple a sight he would have appreciated more had he not been so worn out and sore. Another group of women came out to meet the "hunting party". After what sounded like it may have been some sort of argument, though it could have been enthusiast celebrations or pleasant greetings for all Steven knew, it was all Greek to him. Eventually the stream of gibberish stopped and Steven was taken inside and quite unceremoniously dumped on the hard stone floor.

Meanwhile the gloves were having limited success finding any other contestants, well the right one was. The left glove wasn't even trying after finding the beach empty it chose to simply float around idly, starting wistfully at the smoking volcano. So much potential there. The right on the other hand was genuinely trying to search the forest but was having little luck. The thick canopy destroyed the aerial advantage which usually allowed the glove to excel at such feats. Suddenly there was silent cry of distress, both gloves rushed off to find the source, Steven. The right glove was motivated by genuine concern but the left's motives were a little more sinister. As it zoomed through the undergrowth it shuddered in anticipation. The perfect opportunity.

Steven awoke groggily, his head was throbbing, apparently he had been dropped on it, though it didn't seem to bad. A somewhat important looking woman was trying to ask Steven questions however Steven had no way of understanding or answering them. She persisted for some time but the language barrier did a good job of making sure her efforts were fruitless. Some of the women were beginning to get frustrated, Steven gulped things looked bad. Luckily for him their attention was diverted by a distraction of some sort, the arrival of Vex. "Vex!" Wait Vex? "They got you....too?" They don't look like prisoners. What is going on?

"Stay quiet"
Huh? That was Vex but he didn't look like he talked.
Vex immediately began speaking gibberish to the natives. He pointed at him at one point but that was all Steven understood. Then there was a huge commotion over nothing. Or rather everyone acted like there was something happening over nothing, save for Vex speaking move gibberish and miming a few basic actions. Huh, what just. Oh right, illusions. Steven sighed inwardly Really makes you wonder, how much of what he's said and done was really real. Steven's thoughts were interrupted by his bonds being released. Well he really is helping, that's good enough. Steven went to follow Vex down the hallway, at that moment the gloves burst into the temple.

It taken the gloves some time to find Steven, their timing couldn't have been worse. Most the natives in the room saw the gloves immediately and those that had them raised weapons. The left gloves' chosen method of entry through a wall didn't help the situation. Vex acting quickly worked up another illusion. The gloves became larger, darker, more malicious. Their passive floating turned into more aggressive actions. The simple white gloves had been transformed into a pair of ghastly monster paws.

"Tell them to leave, now"
Once again this wasn't exactly spoken but Steven quickly complied. I simple look and the gloves retreated in fear, just as they were asked.
"That was another of the shadow devils. They came for him" said Vex indicating towards Steven. "Luckily they weren't prepared for a fight"
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
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Re: The Battle Majestic (Round 2 - Firestar)
Originally posted on MSPA by Drakenforge.

Wolf trotted to a safe distance away from the pack of tai... humans. He was agitated by his own careless mistake. Every bush, plant and tree was alien to him. He knew not what crunched or snapped under his paw. Even the smells were wrong. His home had been in deep forrest. There, the trees were wide and tall. Each tree could hold dozens of terratory scent markings. These thin, spindly ones would barely hold one scent alone. And their cover was minimal at best, as the branches were at the tip. Once again, everything was different. He knew he would have to adapt, in in this case, the tai... humans, were far more experianced at doing.

Still...
The hunters knew the forrest. They spotted Wolf easily. Now, he was foiled. Vex would twist the truth to form his own reality. Whataver he wanted them to believe could become their driving force. However, he had mentioned something Wolf had heard.


""He is one of the seven. Please try not to kill him, but be wary. I have not gauged his temperament yet."

Seven. Wolf highly doubted that the tounge-twister would add his own form to that number. So, Wolf, Sen, and the others were potential targets for his following. Wolf found it amusing that he was an enigma to the... whatever he was.
Sure, it had been a risk to tell the boy, Steven, about his speech. But, it had served it's purpose. Because, unless Vex had outsmarted him and planned for the-, wolf scoured at the thought of the concept, future, then he did not know of Wolf linguistic prowess.
That ment that the knowledge in his own, and Steven's heads, was locked away from him.
His power then was not based on entering one's head. Wolf carefully assessed his opponent, more so than the rest of the group, due to Vex's atunement to all other species, excluding for the minor part Sen and Wolf.

Wolf allowed himself a brief moment to wonder about his pack-leader. Very strange smells originated from it's position about a kilometer away. But he could not afford to stop stalking Vex for even a moment at this crucial time. Sen would be at stake if he left the furry-one to his own devices.

And so, Wolf listened. Naturally, some of what Vexmagog said did not reach his ears, but every responce cought his attention. He knew that he would be treated as a guest in the open, and even, to his delight, fed. The urge to eat had been knawing at the back of his mind for some time. However, the smell of prey was not close to the camp, for obvious reasons. Wolf padded near the entrance of the temple, where the guards took wary precautions against him with long tree-branches with rock-claws attached to them. Hearing the commotion, a lone warrior energed from the tent.

"Honerable sister, this beast approaches" One of the guards explaned in what she thought was a whisper.

"Do no harm upon this one. The god itself demands this. If it seems hungry, feed it. If it asks for entry, let it pass. Let it be known that all strangers this day shall be treated so." She bent down to examine Wolf's face up close. In her soft, round eyes, Wolf saw his own reflection. With this sight, he was not surprised when the huntress let out a quiet gasp under her breath. His eyes were different. Much. Different. Gone were his sleek yellow eyes that would pierce the darkness. Instead, one was silver, on his left side. The other, to his even greater confusion, was blue.

The amazoness stood quickly and returned to the tent without a second glance, and Wolf heard her express the details of her encounter. He cought the words, "Eyes of unnatural colour for any beast. One, shining like the most polished silver, the other, bluer than any sea could match."

Wolf bit down at his annoyance and passed Blitz, too deep in his own thoughts to even show that he had seen the boy. His paws brought him to the smells of strange herbs and cooked meat. Word had reached the women tending to the feast beng prepared, and looked at each other. 'This one had no limbs to grasp food, no manners that dictated he seat himself near a group'. They hastily decided to give Wolf his portions now, which wasn't helped by the fact that a third voice kept urging them on on this path of thought. The Wolf just cocked his head at them when they stared at the apparent source of the noise, to which wolf would relpy, "Woof?"

Needless to say, Wolf enjoyed the rich, hot meal to which the tai... humans were accustomed to. It wasn't the same as the joy of feasting on a fresh kill with his pack, but it was filling none-the-less.

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