FFX: Resurrection (IC)

[Eternity]

This is for all you FFX fans who want a literate roleplay. Even if you don't know anything about FFX, sign up and you'll learn as we go. I want to make this open for all people!

Final Fantasy X: Resurrection

- - Years of the Calm have come, and people have become accustomed to the peace without fear. The world of Spira has grown to be a loving world, and has begun to rebuild its old memories into new ones, new memories with new meanings... - -

New places have begun to rise; new shops, new stores, new extensions of the land. But one place in particular will alter history. This place's reconstruction will turn this world into the place it once was. The place of fear, of nightmares, and of secrecy...


This place is Zanarkand.



Yet it rises, years after Sin has fallen. And the city has become functional again. A second Blitzball Dome is born here, and the city is prosperous as always. The city itself, is complete. Ready for living. Ready for life to return.

And it has. People bustle along these streets, run along these corridors and runways, walking through what was once a destroyed figment of history...

But deep underground, construction continues. People search and seek whatever it is that seems to haunt the workers here...

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Character Statistics:


1) Roe:
Level 1 Red Mage
Overdrive 1- "Choke-Hold"
Weapon-
-Steel Whip
Special- Cheer
Skills- Dark Attack
Magic- Cure
Items- Potion
~Strength- 3
~Defense- 1
~Magic Offense- 1
~Magic Defense- 1
~Magic Durability- 1
~Evasion- 1
~Agility- 3



2) Ikanan:
Level 1 Heavy Swordsman
Overdrive 1- "Cover"
Weapon-
-Broadsword
-Axe
Special- __
Skills- Silence Attack
Magic- __
Items- Potion
~Strength- 5
~Defense- 3
~Magic Offense- 0
~Magic Defense- 1
~Magic Durability- 0
~Evasion- 1
~Agility- 1



3) Fenvarr:
Level 1 Black Mage
Overdrive 1- "Voice of Reason"
Weapon-
-Silver Crescent Staff
Special- __
Skills- __
Magic- Level 1 Elements
Items- Potion // Ether
~Strength- 0.5
~Defense- 0.5
~Magic Offense- 5
~Magic Defense- 3
~Magic Durability- 3
~Evasion- 3
~Agility- 2



4) Enneka:
Level 1 Thief
Overdrive 1- "Dance!"
Weapon-
-Steel-Clawed Gauntlets
Special- Reflex
Skills- Steal // Use
Magic- __
Items- Potion // Grenade (x4)
~Strength- 1
~Defense- 1
~Magic Offense- 0
~Magic Defense- 1
~Magic Durability- 0
~Evasion- 5
~Agility- 4



5) Sivan:
Level 1 Light-Swordsman
Overdrive 1- "Finesse"
Weapon-
-Kukri
-Gauche (parrying blade)
Special- Reflex
Skills- __
Magic- __
Items- Potion
~Strength- 3
~Defense- 3
~Magic Offense- 0
~Magic Defense- 1
~Magic Durability- 0
~Evasion- 2
~Agility- 3



6) Sabazian:
Level 1 Heavy Swordsman
Overdrive 1- "Gimlet's Eye"
Weapon-
-Halberd
-Shortsword
Special- Focus
Skills- __
Magic- __
Items- Potion
~Strength- 5
~Defense- 3
~Magic Offense- 0
~Magic Defense- 1
~Magic Durability- 0
~Evasion- 1
~Agility- 1



7) Piotr:
Level 1 Blitz Warrior
Overdrive 1- "Blind Roulette"
Weapon-
-Blitzball
Special- Reflex
Skills- __
Magic- __
Items- Potion
~Strength- 3
~Defense- 2
~Magic Offense- 0
~Magic Defense- 0
~Magic Durability- 0
~Evasion- 2
~Agility- 3




8.) Arima:
Level 1 White Mage
Overdrive 1- "Divine Touch"
Weapon-
-White Staff
Special- __
Skills- __
Magic- Cure // Esuna // Nul-Blaze // Nul-Shock
Items- (2) Potions // Ether
~Strength- 0
~Defense- 1
~Magic Offense- 1
~Magic Defense- 3
~Magic Durability- 5
~Evasion- 4
~Agility- 2



9) Maya:
Level 1 Light-Swordsman
Overdrive 1- "Molotov Cocktail"
Weapon-
-(2) Short Swords
Special- __
Skills- Sleep Attack
Magic- __
Items- Potion
~Strength- 3
~Defense- 3
~Magic Offense- 0
~Magic Defense- 1
~Magic Durability- 0
~Evasion- 2
~Agility- 3

____________________________________________________

Overdrive Upkeep:


Roe's Overdrive:
"Choke-Hold"
-A physical attack. By lashing her whip in a certain way, she entangles the enemy in it, then jerks the whip to create a tight hold on the enemy. It 'chokes' the enemy, and does a good bit of damage. Afterward, the enemy remains stunned for one turn (the effect is called ''Delay").
(effects caused: Delay)


Ikanan's Overdrive:
"Cover"
Ikanan will use his bulk to cover his allies, taking all attacks for a round against himself, and then returning that damage in full with his axe and broadsword.
(effects caused: Guard x all allies & increased stats. next turn)


Fenvarr's Overdrive:
"Voice of Reason"
Fenvarr attempts to reason his way out of a fight with the enemy, be it with words or just trying to scare it off. This move will either confuse the enemy or cause it to retreat.
(effects caused: Flee or Confuse)


Enneka's Overdrive:
"Dance!"
Enneka throws a series of small bombs at the enemy's feet, causing the enemy to "dance". As the bombs go off and the enemy is distracted the others can get their hits in. The move works on flying creatures, though is generally harder to pull off.
(effect caused: 3 turn distraction/Delay)

Sivan's Overdrive:
"Finesse"
The next physical attack directed at Sivan will be a guaranteed miss that gets countered by a full force attack which is guaranteed to hit.
(effects caused: automatic miss on enemy's part & increased stats. counterattack)

Sabazian's Overdrive:
"Gimlet's Eye"
Racing to the opponent, Sabazian reverses his halberd. Using the chisel point (or the sharp edged back), he creates a might swing that pierces the armor and does damage.
(effects caused: Piercing)

Piotr's Overdrive:
"Blind Roulette"
Piotr raises his own Aim and Accuracy, as well as his strength. Thus, when he attacks, there is 0 chance of evasion, and damage is doubled.
(effects caused: Aim, Accuracy, & doubled damage)

Arima's Overdrive:
"Divine Touch"
Arima is able to cast cure on all allies, healing a large chunk of their HP or casts esuna on them.
(effects caused: Cure all / Esuna all)

Maya's Overdrive:
"Molotov Cocktail"
After taking a gulp of alcohol from the bottle she gets from her bag, Maya pushes a cloth into the bottle and sets the end on fire, throwing it at the enemy afterwards.
(effects caused: none [physical damage only])

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Aeon Upkeep:


Faluxin: Level 2: Wild Summon-- [Unlocked]
Overdrive: "Soul Suffocation"
Sphere: Chain Sphere
~Battle Options:
-Attack [stride forward and lash the enemy with chain-edged fins]
-Bind [fly upwards and dive towards enemy, halting ahead of him to create a wind gust of wind and a loud rattle of chains- deals damage and delays the enemy's immediate reaction]
-White Magic:: Protect [cast a shield over himself]

*Artwork by Eternity*

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Information!:

Battle System: When fighting multiple enemies, don't worry about it. I'll supply you with your fight, and bla bla. It's nothing important, you can post your response to my narration when you please.
-When it comes to fighting bosses though, there is a system that will be put in place. Below, at the Character Upkeep Section, each character has a number. This number will determine the order. Since Roe is one, if she attacks the boss first, then next will be Ikanon. If Ikanon attacks first, whoever is number 3 will be next to attack. We will cycle through like this to keep order and assure that everyone gets to attack the boss. When fighting bosses, you may only make one attack or one cast (use of magic) per turn, unless I narrate otherwise.

What's a Calm?: A long time ago, a creature named Sin was born. He destroyed so much, and killed so many. People believed he was the punishment for all their machina and city growth; that it was consequence. But Summoners were born, raised. They went from temple to temple, going to pray to the spirits to gain Aeons. With Aeons, and the Final Summon, they could kill Sin temporarily. The period where Sin was no longer alive, before he was born again, was called a Calm.

Where is Sin now?: Sin has been eternally purged, and is no longer active. This is the lasting Calm, after Lady Yuna, a Summoner, and her Guardians went and fought Sin.

What is Blitzball?: Blitzball is a sport played in a water sphere (which people can breath in). It is played team against team, with a goal on either side of the sphere. The point is to take the blitzball and take it to the other side. To pass, you must throw the ball. To shoot, you must kick it. Bla bla, you'll get it eventually lol.

Aeon summoning: Aeons will not be summoned as they were in the Final Fantasy X. Though White Mages will probably receive the most of Aeons, Aeons can be used by other characters. I will decide Aeon handout and use. The Aeons in this game are called Wild Summons.

How to summon a Wild Summon?: Wild Summons are trapped in small spheres that can be found by looking around, or are dropped by powerful enemies. Sometimes you can fight an enemy all to learn that is an aeon. By defeating it, you can receive the Wild Summon Sphere of that enemy. I will dictate when a character is able to summon a Wild Summon.

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Map of Spira




-x-x-x-x-

OOC is here
Remember the rules, and have fun!

~Eternity~

[Eternity]

Final Fantasy X
Resurrection


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"Found anything?" A male voice echoed softly through the crumbled stone hall. Deep underground, there sat a stretch of catacombs almost, but what they held was unknown. Above ground, though, life continued. The night's people could be heard echoing into the stone chamber, the voices muffled and echoing so softly. But strangely, deep in his own mind, Rae heard something calling to him. Calling his name...

"Nope." He lied. Though it was somewhat the truth. He hadn't found anything. Only heard it. Over and over.

He slid his hands down as he took on the south-half of the corridor, ridding of the crumbled rock over the cobblestone path that led into a wall. Rae would wrap his wiry dirtied hands around a thick rock, lift it, and put it down elsewhere. Trying to uncover this wall.
Warren asked him what made him want to work over at the south end, but Rae had no answer. The closer he got to the wall, the more he felt it. Calling to him. Reaching out. It had to be on the other side.
Whatever it was. Rae didn't seem to care. Just that it was making his fingertips tingle when he reached closer and closer...

After moving the last few rocks, he saw something engraved into the wall. Cracks ran through the deep gray stone, and distorted the look of it actually being a door. But the carvings were intricate and old, and Rae could almost see glyphs glowing when he drew his dirty fingers over the door.

Finding a small indent in the door, he pushed, and the entire stone figure shifted back.

Warren snapped his head back and watched, watched as Rae stepped into a chamber of pitch darkness.

"H-hey, Rae? Wh-what are you doing? Rae?... Rae, can you hear me?" Warren watched as the outline of his partner disappeared into the darkness, and the door slid back into place...





In the dark room, Rae felt a bit of fear swelling beneath his breast. But he contained it, leaning more for the voice that echoed softly in his mind, swaying him further into the depths. Finally, he extended his hand, fingertips ecstatic to touch something he knew was there.

But Rae had no idea what he was about to awaken.


He thought, almost, that he had reached a mirror, for as his hand came closer to this object, or plane of sorts, he could see another hand mimicking his, coming closer.

When he touched the glass-like film, the other hand reaching to his own, light began to fade into play, from inside of the bubble-like cocoon. Inside was a face written in the dark scriptures of history. Blue eyes, a sharp look with a soft set of masculine features. Blue lightning-like marks down the forehead, and blue hair. This man was... was...

Rae realized what he had done. He stepped back, wide green eyes alight with horror. But the man inside this thin crystalline womb was emerging, pressing his long clawed fingers against the edge. The film began to crack, and Rae opened his lips to scream. But the room was suddenly tense, so devoid of oxygen that he couldn't draw a breath. His knees buckled as light burst from the breaking cocoon, and pyreflies erupted by the hundreds. An eerie sound of haunted souls filled the room with Rae's scream as the pyreflies delved into him, shot into his mouth and filling his body. Then, the soul of Seymour, envious and vengeful, broke forward, grasping the man by the neck until Seymour himself had become apart of this man. And the transformation was complete. And it was born, of the male's body, of the haunted and envious pyreflies, and of Seymour's wicked remains.

A new monster was born...

=======================================================================




Prologue

The Zanarkand night was glorious; as always. People gathered on the docks, overlooking the glassy city on black water. The fountains, the screens, the Zanarkand Dome in the distance, shining like a silver fallen star on the ocean's edge. The city was prosperous, and large. To and fro, they went. People unaware of their sins, unaware of what awaited them now. Unaware of the darkness lurking deep below their footsteps. Below the city streets, at sea-level.
Deep, in the ruins and corridors of caved-in buildings long fallen, lay a beast. Growing now with its fresh body.

Already, had it fed upon the other workers deep in the underground caverns of lost and forgotten truths. Already, had it found power. Power to seek and destroy. To follow the cravings of a creature made purely of hate, envy, longing, pain, anger, and disgust.

And it had been festering beneath the surface like a sick infection.

Now is the time to rise, to creep up from the underground. Time to show himself....

-Roe-



Roe moved about the city's streets, wary of who came near her. She knew of the many pick-pockets here. There were all walks of life here, in Zanarkand. But how could she blame them all for flocking here? Zanarkand was the dream-city. Sitting over the stretch of dark water, staring out over the nothingness that led so evenly out into the horizon. Out past the glimmering mirror-like buildings. Over the silver Blitzball Dome in the Western corner. This city was a fairy-tale in the making. So beautiful.

Her footsteps were steady though. She didn't slow to admire the mass amounts of lights that flickered above, nor did she cast her attention to the many reel-based billboards; the screens playing minute-long advertisements and player descriptions. She just kept on. Ranona had a purpose to be here, and it wasn't to enjoy the scenery, the Blitzball games, or the opening of several new stores and socialite hot-spots. Even around the bustling people, all joyous or written-off with ecstatic expressions, she was not as happy. Roe was missing something.

Someone.

Her brother.

How long had it been since she had heard from him? So long, too long. Almost four months, since her brother had 'disappeared'. The construction company, Spiran Renewal, had promised her that he was fine. That Rae had just taken his time off early, and disappeared amongst the city-folk, hiding 'under the radar'. But Rayg wasn't like that. He wouldn't just go into hiding, like that. In the blink of an eye, without telling or warning anyone. And it wasn't just him either! The next night, Warren went missing.

When Roe asked what had happened to Warren, Spiran Renewal (or the S.R.) told her that they believed a kidnapper had come for him. But she connected the dots too easily, and figured out that kidnapping wasn't likely. What would anyone want with two S.R. workers? Rae was just a man who still loved playing in the dirt.

Without realizing it, her pace quickened, and her smooth green eyes fell to the ground. And then, abruptly, someone brushed against her.

Roe stepped back, and turned, watching a man in a long black robe hurry away. She stared for a moment. It was true, that in this time and age, the cloaked man was beyond suspicious. And thus, she had to follow him.


Her boots slammed against the cool pavement of the Zanarkand bridge, stretching over a pool of black water leading to another plaza of stores and shops. Her hair whipped behind her, the semi-long brown locks twisting against her pace.

The cloaked man only moved faster though. She knew something was wrong now. Why would he run from her?

Roe reached out to grab him, and barely let her fingers graze the smooth black cloth of his robe.

And he turned, twisting and knocking her hand away. And in two steps, he had moved backwards to the edge of the road. In an agile step, he crawled onto the side-bar, and gave Roe one last look. She couldn't see his eyes through the mask of white with sharpened red stripes over the eyes, but she knew in those dark sockets, eyes watched her.

And the man leaped. Ranona dashed to the street's edge, grabbing the bar and staring over. But the water was mostly still, as though he hadn't hit it. And it was black, just as he was. She felt something rise up in her, like fear, but not the same. It was more of anticipation. As though that were a sign.

Something's going to happen.
She could feel it.

Direction:
Your characters are here, in Zanarkand, a beautiful city on the water. Introduce each of your characters.

[Inerio]

"Ah! The sights! The sounds! The breeze!" Enneka practically sang as she threw her hands up in the air. It was evident how happy she was to be in Zanarkand. Fenvarr couldn't blame her for being excited. The place was more amazing than he'd imagined. The books he'd read certainly didn't do the place justice. His eyes shone with hopeful nativity as he fiddled with the long sleeves of his robe. "I'm ready to drink until I can't feel feelings!"

Said statement snapped Fenvarr out of his dreamlike state and he shot Enneka a disapproving look. In return the Thief's mouth pulled into a pout. She crossed her arms and scrunched up her nose, about to vocalize her disapproval of his disapproval, which would probably lead into a rather large conundrum of an argument. Though, it would probably be rather one sided.

"Enneka, I would prefer that you didn't." Fenvarr muttered, wringing his hands together in a familiar worried movement. Enneka's lips couldn't help but crack into a smile. Fenvarr had a very baby-deer-standing-up-for-the-first-time approach at arguing. If it wasn't quite so sad it would be hilarious. She shook her head, the beads entangled in her thick black hair clacked together a few times.

"Fine, Fine." She sighed, taking in an eyeful of the clear blue sky above her. "But, only because you'd probably loose a majority of our supplies if I wasn't sober enough to stand up for you." Said statement almost got a rise out of Fenvarr. However, his emotions were placed in the recesses of his subconscious where almost all of his bad blood and complaints went. Enneka didn't find such behavior healthy, she was convinced her companion was going to have a mental breakdown one day. Though, the occasional battle could have been considered an outlet for Fenvarr.

"I want to visit quite a few places before we leave here." Fenvarr began, placing bother hands neatly inside each sleeve in a too formal fashion. Enneka shot him a look of her own, which he seemed to either not understand or just flat out ignore. The Spiran hated it when the Guado looked too proud. It wasn't out of jealous that she disliked his formality. No, it was because the formalities made him an all too easy target. From his ornate black mage's robe to his slightly puffed pants all the way to his silk shoes everything about Fenvarr was just too rich.

Though, without the need to pay bill for housing it was expected that the pair would spend more money on clothing and equipment. Granted, Enneka liked to make money on her own through less than admirable means.

"I think that you should make a chapter on the women of Zanarkand if ya know what I mean." Enneka tossed slyly as she elbowed Fenvarr in the arm. A bright red exploded on the Guado's cheeks as he realized just what Enneka was implying and his hand shot up to his forehead as he turned to stare at the street.

"Enneka, you really need to be less lewd." He muttered. "I'm not here for the women--"

"---So you're here for the men?" Enneka interjected before she could loose the chance to make her comment.

"No! Not for the men either! I'm writing a book! I don't have time to go falling in love, I'll do that when my book gets published." He grumbled, folding his arms. He then received a hearty slap on the back from Enneka who'd let loose a hearty laugh. Almost afraid he turned his head towards her and was met by glittering eyes and a wolfish grin.

"Oh yes, because it'll be easier to keep a woman when you're a famous writer!" She nodded, as if she'd found out some sort of mystery. "Oui ghuf, yht aycean du gaab sah duu." Fenvarr let out a sigh as the two made a rather large left, turning into a market place. They had found their way into a rather large Bazaar. Various vendors, some of which were merchants and others natives, sold their goods for whoever was willing to buy them.

"You know, I'm inclined to think you just made another gay joke in Al Bhed."

[Gabe]

Sivan wasn't a big fan of crowds. He'd spent the last couple of years wandering the continent on his own, not relying on others for help, and certainly not looking to settle down with other people to start a legitimate lifestyle. The large bustle of Zanarkand seemed almost foreign to him, but not necessarily unwelcoming.

The city itself was certainly beautiful. And it was easily the largest the young Al Bhed had ever seen. He looked to the horizon, the city skyline aglow with lights from a plethora of sources, each warming Sivan's mood. He had truly forgotten the small joys of civilization, not having to sleep by a fire being one of them. He continued along the concrete path, his well-weathered boots occasionally scuffing along the pavement. His garb was rather unusual compared to the citizens of this city, being built for comfort and practicality rather than style. The children would occasionally turn their heads and stare, only to be scolded by their parents who likely understood the lifestyle Sivan had been leading.

Sivan wandered aimlessly for almost an hour when he was suddenly stopped by a strange man wearing what looked like cheap knockoff clothes. He seemed awkward to Sivan. He hunched forward, hands clasped, with an unusual grin across his wrinkled face.

"Please sir, an outsider such as yourself will truly appreciate my wares." The man's voice was dull but certainly not monotone. He had been working on his salesman voice for quite some time it seemed. Sivan wasn't about to be fooled by this act. He had found himself the target of scammers many times before. It was something he had gotten used to after he started traveling; his odd appearance commonly drew attention to him.

Sivan politely put both of his hands in front of him. He could never bring himself to be rude to strangers, even the ones who simply wanted to take his money or anything else of value.
"E's zicd byccehk drnuikr, dryhg oui." he said softly, trying to sidestep the salesman. He didn't necessarily mean to speak his native language to this person, but it was so much easier to speak.

The trickster looked confused, clearly not familiar with the Al Bhed's language. Sivan simply kept walking without any real direction. He decided that he would at least visit each quarter of town before heading out.

Another hour passed by. Sivan grew tired, but there was so much to see. He didn't realize how large Zanarkand actually was, which kindled his nomadic personality. He continued along, alone amongst the bustling groups of people. He eventually came to a large bridge that stretched out over one of the many bodies of water surrounding the city. At the apex of the bridge, he couldn't help but notice a beautiful young girl leaning over the edge. She looked troubled, but it wasn't his business. Sivan made it a point to stay out of other's business, especially in places where he was unfamiliar. The Al Bhed continued across to the other end of the bridge and rested on a bench. His mind drifted back to the troubled girl on the bridge. What could a stranger like himself possibly do for her? Then again, why was he even feeling any obligation towards someone he laid eyes on for mere seconds.

He dismissed the thoughts as he leaned his back into the seat, consulting a small map he had picked up on his way into the city.

[Guest]

Ikanan Ronso roamed the wide streets of Zanarkand seemingly without purpose. Most of the people crowding the streets moved out of his way, eyeing the large weapons strapped to his enormous and muscular body. Ikanan hardly noticed these stares or the fact that they kept a goodly distance from him. He hardly noticed that he was one of the few people in Zanarkand armed as heavily and openly as he was.

Zanarkand was a prosperous city, an attraction for the wealthy and the entrepreneurs, not the wild where brawn was a necessity. At least, that was how most people saw it. Ikanan felt differently. He was here because he felt that this was where his destiny led him. He was here because Zanarkand was where all the events of the past had centered around, and he knew that such a fate could not be escaped so easily. Zanarkand was where he would find his adventure, he was sure.

So far, though, he was disappointed. He certainly had not expected to see the towering skyline and enormous crowds of people flowing through the streets. The technologies that Zanarkand employed were far beyond that of his own people, though he was not completely unknowledgeable of their crafts and society. He was also painfully aware of how few Ronso were in the city. Since the beginning of the Calm, all Ronso were expected to travel the world of Spira and bring their experiences back for the benefit of the tribe. How could they not understand that Zanarkand was where such beneficial experiences could be found? The entire world could be seen in Zanarkand, from the population that filled it to the shops that catered to tourists and residents alike, selling wares from around the world. There was so much to be seen here, and so much that could go wrong.

But, at the moment, Ikanan was having trouble finding anything that seemed out of place. Besides the typical trouble-makers that plagued any city, there was nothing that shone like a beacon of trouble. Ikanan realized that he was trying too hard, that he was trying to force a situation that could only come naturally and with time. He would simply have to continue roaming the city until whatever it was landed in his path, as he knew it was destined to do.

Ikanan stopped one of the pedestrians by dropping a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Can it tell this one where he can find food?"
The man simply looked at him, his face a canvas of both confusion and fear. Ikanan knew repeating his statement would bring no response. His way of speaking was strange, as he had been told time and again. Some of his tribe developed the habit of mentioning themselves by name, as if they were some other entity talking about their person. Ikanan had naturally taken it a step further by refusing to acknowledge another's person unless he had a reason to. The man shrugged out of Ikanan's grasp, just barely, and moved on with a quicker step, not looking back.

[Eternity]

Priest's Warning

Roe -and- Sivan

Roe stared over the edge of the water, wondering where on Spira that man had gone. She did not stay and worry though. Her eyes softened as she stared over the edge, the black water reflecting the city lights. She relaxed a good deal, leaning forward and folding her arms over the thick railing. Ah, well, it was beautiful to say the least. She had so much on her mind, she could probably use the relaxation of the moment. But as she stared into the water, something happened. Something changed...

Time has stopped. All the people on the main bridge, and in Zanarkand actually, are frozen in place. Halted in some streamed loop of space that is on pause. She looks around, and sees no one in motion. Her heart races, thundering in her chest. It is then she sees a man down the bridge, with a map. Roe is ready to approach him, her boots heavy against the ground as she walks his way. But something happened.

When she blinked, a man appeared. That same cloaked figure. He was tall and lanky, his robe seemingly... seamless, and pitch black. His mask was one of a stark white with those two intimidating red fang-shapes down the front over the black sockets of eyes. Roe stared hard, and reached to her waist. Her fingertips trailed over the thick disk of coiled silver metal that was her whip, hanging at her side. The man raised an arm, a black gloved hand halting her continuation. He turned, and saw Sivan as well, and stopped.

Sound danced through the air, straight into their minds, even though some small trace of it could be hinted back to his mouth.

Follow me.

Roe watched, as the strange cloaked man then walked towards her. When she reached to stop him, he disappeared, and reappeared behind her. She turned, and the man took off running, down the bridge and towards the Red Zone; the construction district of Zanarkand that led into the Underground... Where... Where Warren and Rae, her brother, had gone missing...

Where the story begins.



Fenvarr -and- Enneka



As the two went onward, suddenly, onward was frozen. Time stopped, halted around Enneka and Fenvarr. The people were stuck in motion, like a 3-D still frame photo of Zanarkand. The people were many and great, all so crowded about that one could get lost very easily.

Amongst the crowd, one appeared. Oh, what a man he was too, if even a man at all. A long dark cloak covered his figure, without seams or openings save for his hood and sleeves. And his hood shadowed down over some pale figure. One might think it his face, til he lifts his head. The man was wearing a mask, most likely porcelain. It had two strips of tapering red down over the eyes, and hid such features as the lips, eye color or shape, and facial definition.

The man looked up, and he stared at them. And though his eyes could not be seen, he stared, and it was known.

Follow, he said. And the man turned, and began to run through the people, a speedy runner, and quite a hasty pursuit, heading for the Red Zone...



Ikanan



Where Ikanan was, was nearing the crowd. As he walked, people passed, some even stared. It was strange for a Ronso to be so dark- even to the point of being black in color. His red eyes created fear in the weak Spirans around him, and curiosity in the mischief makers of Zanarkand. Ah, but it was neither the Spirans or trouble-makers that had their eyes on Ikanan now. No, it was a mysterious being...

Suddenly, time froze. Stood still, the people each halting as a tiny wave could be felt, like a ripple in the air. When Ikanan blinked, a man appeared before him. Long black robe danced around his figure, a cloak with no ends but his hood and sleeves. His face was a porcelain mask of white, with red tapering stripes over the eyes. His features were not seen, but that he was tall, and quite enigmatic and appalling.

Follow, the man said. And he moved towards Ikanan, disappearing and appearing again behind him. He repeated his one quiet solemn instruction, and began to run from the Ronso, heading for the Red Zone of Zanarkand, the construction district...

_______________________

The Red Zone is a Construction Area of Zanarkand. It is the last bit of construction needed to be done to complete the city, renewing it to its former glory beheld so long ago. This area is across the main Zanarkand Bridge. It is marked by long strips of yellow tape and glyphs that mark the walls, warning that it is a no civilian zone. It is obvious, for the machina that lays outside, and the gaping hole surrounded by rubble that leads into the strange and fated undeground beneath.

Directions:
If you have not introduced yourself, continue and do such. Otherwise, chase down the strange man. He calls you to the Red Zone. When you get there, you may be alone. Maybe there are others there. All you know is that something about this creature, or man, is calling you forth.

Follow him, don't let him get away!

[Inerio]

"By Spira. . . " The words escaped Fenvarr's mouth in a gaping gasp as he stared at the scene around him. Surely, the freezing of the very time and space around him was a mere mirage brought on by exhaustion. "I must be dreaming." Before any other words could escape his mouth he felt a sharp pain in his upper forearm. Sure enough Enneka had taken it upon herself to give him a hard pinch.

"Nope, sorry. You're pretty damn awake." Enneka shrugged with a half hearted smile. It was then, as she began to shift her gaze to the left, that the figure did walk out from the crowd. For a moment Enneka was alarmed. She didn't exactly take to cloaked figures just waltzing out of crowds. But, for some reason her apprehension was overcome by curiosity. The inquisitive feeling bubbling up from her subconscious wasn't like her, perhaps Fenvarr had rubbed off on her.

Similarly, Fenvarr acted slightly more cautious than he would have. He'd withheld his questions until the being began to speak and froze in place. If the creature was a fiend he'd have preferred to escape a fight than have to face it in a frozen area. It was after the man, or perhaps creature, uttered the word follow did the pair pull out of their frozen stances and exchange confused looks. Enneka, always on the ball, darted after the man as soon as he broke out into a run. Having many an experience weaving through a crowd Enneka had no problem when the people about her didn't even move. It was Fenvarr that seemed to be having trouble.

Fenvarr wasn't much of a runner, graceful yes, but slow to move. Enneka growled under her breath and found herself stopping so that she could wave Fenvarr into the right direction. It was clear that Enneka would need to be the mid point between the two.

"Where is he going?" Fenvarr called out to Enneka as he squeezed between two people, presumably a father and daughter.

"The hell should I know?" Enneka retorted, slipping through a group of frozen friends. "Up my ass and around the corner." She added in a growl. After a degree of running the not so dynamic duo had found themselves on the Zanarkand Bridge. The number of people, thankfully, was less on the bridge than in the market square. Fenvarr was still a ways behind but was able to see the cloaked man as opposed to having to follow Enneka.

The thief had stopped before a bunch of yellow tape, where the cloaked stranger had gone through, and turned to face the Black Mage.

"Looks a bit dangerous for a woman." She noted in a snippy fashion to Fenvarr as he caught up, breathing heavily. Fenvarr, in no mood to glorify the insult with a retort, simply tore off the tape.

"I don't want to be stuck in this frozen time space continuum forever you know, maybe the key to getting things moving again is to follow that guy." Fenvarr offered, walking through the now unblocked area, some tape held in his fist. Following him Enneka placed her hands haughtily on her hips and began to protest.

"Oh yes! Let's follow the stranger down the giant suspicious looking hole! It's a wonder you're still alive after going years doing this kind of stupid shit." She hissed, trotting up to Fenvarr who'd increased his pace. The Black Mage now peered over the edge of the hole, as if his eyes could penetrate the darkness waiting within. "How do you know we won't die down there!?"

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Fenvarr sighed. "And, that's going in."

[Guest]

Sabazian

Dust from the trail covered his clothes, muting the gypsy's array of colors, but if he looked the sort that might get run off or given harassment by a guard for being the 'wrong sort' the halberd slung jauntily over his shoulder was a useful enough 'leave him alone' sign, even with the leather sheath he kept over the steel to keep it out of the elements. Big, black oak and reinforced with iron bands and studs to make for easier gripping and the parrying of blade, it was a professional warrior's weapon, even if it was less romantic (though far more utilitarian) than a sword. With the hooks, spikes and blades, one could do many different things.

But here in the crowd of Zanarkand, he was fairly anonymous -- traders came to and from from the city, and many of them needed some sort of protection even in the best of times, as there were places where banditry was a cottage industry. Even if it wasn't the old legend times, with armies of monsters doing the bidding of some entity, there was always something that kept a person with a weapon in work.

The water on the dome gave him the inspiration for the first thing he wanted to do -- a drink of some sort, perhaps a bottle of something, and a warm bath up to his eyeballs. He'd spent a miserable three weeks on the road, muttering evil things about his former employer, and now he wanted to put it all behind him in the delightful steam and heat that said 'luxury' and 'civilization' to even a rough cobb like him.

The crowd seemed thick here, and there was no real way to get through. In his eagerness, he decided to cut down the side-streets, the easier to get where he was going. He remembered this place where the wine was cheap, the baths were hot and the girls wore...

The eagerness to get his back soaped spurred him on as he drove himself, perhaps a bit heedlessly, through the twisting backstreets, hardly noticing the geography and not stopping to appreciate the local architecture -- something that eggheads tended to moon over. A building was a building, in his mind. Stone was stone. Nothing to see there. A plumply pretty, soft city woman scrubbing your back was all he could think of.

A few stringy street kids eyed up the man but decided easier meat was to be found elsewhere -- at over six feet and with chocolate toned skin, he seemed fierce and intimidating, even if the clothing he wore, sweatstained and dusty, seemed a bit more poncey and colorful than one would attribute to a man of arms. Of course, beneath that colorful splash of fabric was a brigandine breastplate, and his boots were the heavy kind, made for marching. Above all, the fellow was carrying that polearm of his.

Several shortcuts later, however, he had to admit that he was probably hopelessly lost, and that meant that he had to start backtracking. He huffed a sigh of exasperation -- of course, the journey would have to end the way it began. Ingloriously.

[Klikxx]

The clang of the chimed bells as they struck the glass door alerted the small shop owner of his arrival. It had been a relatively good day for Piotr so far. The headaches seemed to have subsided for the time being. With the day appearing to be relatively overcast and dull at least one of his triggers wouldn’t prove to be an issue today. Still he kept his face hidden within the deep hood of his cloak. He almost smiled at the thought of a trouble free day.

He stooped his head slightly as he walked into the cluttered store. He had heard of this place during his playing days but he never found the time to check it out. Not that he could have back in those days it would have created complete mayhem. Just being there brought back a flood of memories. Then again, who would have thought anything less of a sports memorabilia retailer?

The large stylized sign on the wall behind the glass countertop read “Lookin’ for Heroes”. Underneath the sign stood a slightly rotund older man peering at him through pop bottle thick glasses.
Can I help you? He greeted the giant man cheerfully.

Not yet I'm afraid, just curious. Piotre responded as he continued wandering around glancing into the display cases. A short moment later his attention was captured by something familiar.Can I see that?” Piotr inquired pointing to the round object in the display.

Ahh! “A man with lavish tastes.”

Piotr held the lightweight dimpled ball in the palm of his hand. It had been a long time since he had felt the sensation. Gently he began to wrap his long thick fingers around the 10 inch diameter sphere. A little sphere such as this once provided a variety of pleasures for him.[b] “How much?” The giant man asked. All of his attention still focused on the object he held.

20, 000 gil.

“For this?”

“It would be worth three times that if it was signed. That one’s got history” the elderly sore clerk enlightened his patron. “That my friend was the last ball every touched by the “MONSTER”. They pried it from his grasp as they carried him off the field. Have you heard of him? He was perhaps the best player ever to have played the game. Shame really how it ended. Some say it wasn’t an accident at all but a hit put out on him. It was never proven though.”

The store keepers recounting of the story froze Piotr momentarily. He began to realize exactly what he held. He had seen the footage of the incident many times. He had often wondered about the circumstances surrounding the accident. He hadn’t thought of as a contract hit. What if it had been part of a conspiracy? Why him?

He had thought much of the tragedy was behind him. Yes, he still had a score to settle with the doctor that augmented his appearance but this changed things. It was now apparent that he had only focused on the tip of the iceberg. There were still many questions to be answered and this little ball may just lead him back to the beginning.

“There’s more if you want to see it. The wily sales clerk added afraid he was about to loose his mark.

“Where did you get this?” Piotr remarked holding up the finely crafted globe.

[Gabe]

Sivan had just began to study the map when the city seemed to halt in place. The sounds were stifled in the same instant. Even the air itself seemed to hang suspended. The dead silence was completely unnatural, but also somehow familiar. Sivan stood up from his seat and exhaled sharply, almost in a panic. As he surveyed the area around him, he saw that everything was indeed still, just as silent as the empty house he fled years ago.

He turned his attention back towards the bridge he had just crossed. A hooded figure stood between him and the particularly conspicuous woman he had taken notice of. She reached for her side, perhaps to defend herself, when the figure phased out of existence for a split second and reappeared behind her. Why wasn't she frozen like the others? Was she the cause of this anomaly? He took a step forward and started to call out to the Sprian girl when an irresistible urge to come closer suddenly came over the Al Bhed. He could have sworn he heard someone calling out to him, beckoning to follow. Never in all of his life had he felt so compelled to do anything. It was as if destiny itself was reaching out and demanding his presence.

Just as Sivan began to advance towards the two, the figure turned and ran at full speed in the opposite direction.

Sivan felt his body being pulled almost autonomously towards the fleeing figure as he took off in a sprint after it. The decisive action to chase this being seemed to undo every ounce of wandering he had been doing his entire life. Just as he took off towards the bridge again, he shouted at the figure.
"Fyed! Fru yna oui?!"

[Eternity]

Priest's Warning

Sabazian



Amongst the crowd, fluttered people. Children, men, and women alike. They passed, to and fro. Ah, as Zanarkand was indeed quite an easy city to get lost in. But suddenly, the people halted. Unanimously, the world froze in place. The people stared open eyed- and some caught in a blink. Even the air did not move.

All was still.

From behind of Sabazian, a voice came. Cryptic, these words, echoing quietly through the air and into his mind in such a manner that would suggest they had been said in his ear.

Follow.

The cloaked man stepped back, waiting for Sabazian to turn. He wore a mask of porcelain white, with two tapering stripes of red, thick at the top and thin beneath the cheek.

He turned away from Sabazian and whispered one solemn word once more. At first, he only took a step or two, turning his head. Those dark eerie sockets gazed at Sabazian, and nodded his head to the direction he now faced. And then, like a bullet, he ran towards the Red Zone of Zanarkand...




Piotr



As the man was speaking his next few words: "I received it fro-" He halted.

And I mean that in the most literal manner. The man's mouth hung open, the words stuck there. His eyes saw, but were frozen in a glance at the man. Did not blink, did not breath. The fan had stopped twirling. The screen in the back of the shop had quieted, the small buzzing fly dancing around the door halted in the air. Hanging...

The world was still, and silent, save for one word which drifted into Piotr's ear like a cold whisper.

Follow.

The door bell did not ring, but the door was open. And just outside of the frame was a man who did not seem to be affected by the halt of time. From this vantage point, the only man who was not affected in sight. He wore a long dark cloak that wrapped around his body and bore no openings, save for his hood and sleeves. Over his face was a mask of white with red stripes dipping down over the eyes. It left nothing to be seen, and much for the imagination. Even this man's eyes could not be seen through those dark eerie sockets.

He repeated the command once more, before turning, and walking past the door. When Piotr took one solid step, the man took flight on feet, beginning to run- and quickly so. A race that would require an athletic body to be kept up with. A race, to the Red Zone of Zanarkand...

_______________________

The Red Zone is a Construction Area of Zanarkand. It is the last bit of construction needed to be done to complete the city, renewing it to its former glory beheld so long ago. This area is across the main Zanarkand Bridge. It is marked by long strips of yellow tape and glyphs that mark the walls, warning that it is a no civilian zone. It is obvious, for the machina that lays outside, and the gaping hole surrounded by rubble that leads into the strange and fated underground beneath.

Directions:
To the Red Zone of Zanarkand! You may be alone when you get there, maybe not. Maybe there are others there. All you know is that something about this creature, or man, is calling you forth.

Follow him, don't let him get away!


__________________________________________________________________

Roe // Sivan // Fenvarr // Enneka



Roe was chasing, full speed. This being was fast! It almost as if he were not running at all, but instead drifting very quickly. Gliding even! Her legs began to burn, stretching and bounding, her muscles burning. Her long dark brown hair whipped furiously in her wake, her dark brown eyes settled hard on the cloaked figure. Suddenly, she heard someone shout something in Al Bhed behind her. What had he said, and who was he?

All she recognized of the language was Wait! and you. The beginning and end of his shouting call to the man who moved through the static muted city like her.

She turned her head to look back, and ended up stumbling forward, hitting the ground. She looked at the ground and lifted up a small black rock, burned with a tiny mark into it. The mark was like a thin line, with a tiny hook on the end. Roe didn't recognize it, but it didn't matter. She got back up, now almost alongside the Al Bhed.

She turned her head and looked him over, trying not to trip again, while gripping the black stone...



When the two arrived, after chasing the Priest, to the Red Zone, it was something to be seen. The area was shambled, with machina constructs around it, most off and seemingly inactive or either quite new. There was a torn piece of yellow tape along one of the sides of a rock, while the other side had seemed to be torn away completely by a previous intruder. Roe stopped, almost doubling over to catch her breath. She reached up to the beige vest tied tight over her chest, over the fitted black tank top. A strap tied across it, and with her fingers she snapped open one simple metal clasp on the left, and the top opened up and loosened, allowing her chest to expand in deep breaths.

"Jeez." Roe muttered quietly. She looked up at the man, Sivan, near her. "Well, it seems like this isn't solving easily... " She gestured her head towards the gaping entrance to some Underground. Roe stepped over the rubble, and stopped suddenly to notice a few others. A Guado and a darker skinned young woman. Roe called to them, waving a hand.

"Hey!" She said. The woman crawled over the rubble and traveled to the gaping entrance into darkness. "Did he bring you hear too? The man in a black robe, with a mask on?" She looked at the entrance, and suddenly realized where he had brought her. All sense of conversational desires disappeared. Maybe he was leading her to Rayg, her brother. She stepped towards the entrance, and halted, looking to the left and right. To the left of the gaping entrance and stairwell downward was a wall with a glyph along it.

Roe jumped over a large crack and landed before the wall, looking up at the red glyph. She reached up and touched it with two fingers, very gently. The glyph shifted, giving off a sudden bright glow- turning a smooth green color as the shape as well changed against the wall.

The area hummed into life, and several large lights clicked on, casting down bright beams of light. Inside, underground, the same sound formed. And inside the gaping dark hole came light, as several clicked on inside. It showed the stone steps that steeped into the level below, and Roe was not afraid to take on the opening. She jumped back over towards the entrance, and took the steps inside...


Inside, was a hallway, reaching a good thirty feet before it opened into a large rectangular chamber, empty and barren, with the opposite end of the hall covered in a pile of rubble and stones. And also, when Roe reached the inside, just as the others did, she saw the man she had followed...

In the center of the room was a cloaked figure; one for each of them. They all stood faced away, but slowly began to turn and face them, one in front of them all.

"Come, strangers, gather round. Fate is a magnet, drawing you together."

______________________________________________________________________

Welcome to the inside of the Underground. The inside is dank, and somewhat moist. The walls, floor, and ceiling are all of stone. In the right wall are some old carvings, but they are far faded. Deeper towards the end, near the corner, is a small counter-like piece of stone that juts out of the wall. It has a semi-spherical indention in it, though it is doubtful if the sphere system still works. This place reeks of wet stone and old blood, though no blood is seen. It is silent, save for the constant background noise of water dripping from the ceiling, and running in a thin stream towards the opposite side of the room, near the pile-up of rocks and building stones. There are as many cloaked men as there are of you, all of them identical. And by identical, I mean that they are each the same size, build, color, and height. If you were to try and touch them, your hand would pass right through them. They are real in sight, though not tangible... This place, it feels... like danger.

Directions:
You have found yourself with the only group of active people in this time-stilled city. Come to the Underground chamber, and take a look around. Talk to the other people in there with you. Perhaps you even press for answers from the cloaked figures.

[Guest]

Ikanan's heart fluttered as the crowd around him stilled and silenced. It was if time had stopped completely for the entire city. He found that he could move himself, but he saw no movement from anyone else. He wondered if perhaps it was the same for the others, that they found that they were the only ones in the city who could move, and somehow everyone's perception was off. But standing here with his mouth open wasn't going to solve the issue. The truth was, he knew that this was for him. He was destined to be here, and now that he was this thing had happened.

Suddenly a man in a black cloak appeared before Ikanan. The man was tall, but Ikanan could see none of his features. He was covered from head to foot in a flowing black robe, and his face was covered by a white mask with red lines descending over the eyes. Ikanan wasn't sure if the man could move or not, but he was certain he hadn't been there moments before.

"Follow."

The man had spoken, and he started moving toward Ikanan. He suddenly disappeared from sight, and when Ikanan spun around to search for him in the crowd, he found the cloaked figure standing behind him.

"Follow."

The man repeated his instruction, and then turned around and sprinted off. This was it, Ikanan knew. This was his destiny. He had to follow the mysterious figure to wherever it would lead him, and he would find his test there. He just had to keep up. But that, he was sure, would be no problem.

Ronso immediately took up the chase, his long strides working hard to keep up with the swift cloaked figure. The Ronso wasn't coming any closer to the figure, though he wasn't losing any distance either. He did his best to maneuver his large bulk through the crowd without knocking anyone over, something the man seemed to have no trouble with. And whenever he put on a burst of speed to close the distance, the man seemed to match it.

The two runners were approaching a large bridge, which was considerably less crowded than the rest of the streets had been. The man was in plain sight and Ikanan put on a burst of speed to once again try to close the distance. But it was wasted effort. The man reached an area of rubble and machina across the bridge and then simply disappeared through the ground. Ikanan did his best to close the distance before the man could have gone too far. He realized that he was in some sort of construction zone. Yellow tape surrounded a large hole in the ground, though a few areas seemed to have been torn away. Glyphs were placed on most of the surrounding buildings, each of them warnings to any civilians to stay away from this area, the Red Zone.

But Ikanan was sure the man had gone down the hole in the ground. Ikanan followed the stretch of well-lit stone steps that descended down the hole. At the bottom of the steps who saw a hallway. After about thirty feet he could see light from a larger chamber. He followed the hallway to that chamber, and he was thoroughly surprised, and disappointed, by what he saw inside.

There were four others in there already, three Spirans and a Guado. And there were several more of the dark clad men with them. Ikanan stepped into the room. It seemed he was going to have to share his destiny with others.

[Klikxx]

"I received it fro-"He halted.

Piotr was hanging on every word awaiting the punch line to the response. The shop owner mysteriously stopped mid sentence. The setting which surrounded him had turned surreal, as if he had magically stepped into a dream. The world was still, and silent, save for one word which drifted into Piotr's ear like a cold whisper.

“Follow.”

Given the setting the blitzer found himself in the soft spoken word caught him by surprise. He spun slowly, reacting instinctively to the tiny sound. He had turned to find the door to the little shop wide open. His attention was drawn to the silhouette of a man wrapped in a long dark cloak. The ambiguous figure repeated the command once more

“Follow.”

Other than Piotr the cloaked messenger was the only thing that moved on the frozen stage of time. After issuing its decree the man simply turned, and walked past the door. When the giant took one solid step, the man took flight on foot, beginning to run-and quickly so. It now looked as though Piotr had a new rabbit to chase.

As athletic as he was he seemed to be gaining no ground on the elusive figure ahead of him. It was all he could do to keep up the pace. Twisting and turning though the streets of Zanarkland he chased his folly with the hope of catching his fleeing quarry. The faster the pace he set the further the man seemed to increase his lead.

Something seemed off. As much ground as the two had covered the remainder of the city remained motionless. The others found themselves stationary obstacles unaware of the chase unfolding around them. It wasn’t until he was well into the pursuit did he realize that he was still grasping the spherical memorabilia.

Piotr’s first instinct was to hurl the dimpled ball at his unobtainable target. He resisted the urge reasoning at this range and speed it would prove to be a miraculous shot. The man wanted him to follow, why the game of cat and mouse? Was he being lead into a trap?

The conspiracy theory behind his accident once again jumped into the forefront of his thoughts. Was it just a strange coincidence that the cloaked figure revealed himself when he did? Subconsciously his body was already responding to the questions racing through his mind. His pace slowed and oddly so did that of his mark.

“Where is it we are going?” Piotr shouted.

It did not surprise him there was no answer in return. The two found themselves upon the main Zanarkland Bridge headed towards the Red Zone. Piotr didn’t like the idea of where this was heading. The posted warnings were abundantly clear and he should turn around. The man he had chased this far had disappeared into the forbidden zone and he was expected to follow.


Long strips of yellow tape and glyphs marked the walls. He had a bad feeling about all of this as he made his way through the rubble following his carrot. He was looking for answers and they may just be at the end of this tunnel. The torn tape along one of the walls at least gave the suggestion that others may have been here. Cautiously, he made his way down the dimly lit stairs offered by the gaping hole in the broken earth.

His nostrils flared as a new scent reached aroused his senses. Not the aroma that he had been following all this time but something different. A whiff of several different smells that had recently passed through the rough-cut tunnel. It was hard to distinguish exactly what they were but they did not belong with the bouquet of the cold damp stone. Along with the smorgasbord of fragrance came the stale smell of blood.

[Gabe]

No response came from the mysterious man in the robes, but none was really expected either. The Spiran girl looked back, as she had begun to chase the figure as well. She stumbled and fell, but quickly gathered herself. This made Sivan feel a bit guilty, but he didn't have time to stop. Every fiber of his being demanded that he catch the robed man, but for what purpose he didn't know.

As he caught up to the Spiran, she looked back at him, but kept her focus on chasing the same quarry. Neither said a word, saving their breath for their quickly tiring muscles. Sivan thanked himself for being a light traveler, choosing fabric and leather over steel. The figure led the two into the Red Zone, which was clearly marked as off limits. Such things meant little to the wanderer, considering some of the places he had taken shelter in his life.

As the unusual pair reached the massive opening, the cloaked figure evaporated into the darkness. Sivan stayed next to the Spiran, instinctively letting her lead the way. He knew he had been led here for a reason, and this new stranger would soon be an important factor in his future. As his newfound partner collected herself, the Al Bhed warily looked over his shoulder. If this was a trap, he would be ready. As he regained his breath, he set out with the younger adventurer into the darkness.

"Well, it seems like this isn't solving easily... " she said, gesturing with a nod towards their destination. Sivan silently returned the nod and stayed one step behind her as they crossed the uneven terrain. After a few more paces, another pair of strangers came into view.

"Did he bring you hear too? The man in a black robe, with a mask on?" she asked, still advancing along the route. An instant later, she froze as if in deep thought. She looked across a chasm adjacent to their position and skillfully jumped across it. Her agility surprised Sivan, who watched as she activated the strange glyphs scrawled into the stones on the other side.

The hollow feelings Sivan had been experiencing began to fill with desire. Whoever these people were...they were definitely kindred to him in some way. He cracked a small smile as he felt his life becoming validated again. As the room flashed to life with an eerie light from below, he snapped back to reality.

He followed with the group down the seemingly ancient stairway into a large rectangular chamber, the likely source that the young Spiran had activated a moment before. The four stopped as one, all seeing the cloaked figures in the room's center turn to face them. This place had not been affected by the alleged stopping of time outside. Drops of water trickled around from various places, resonating their presence with a familiar dripping sound.

Sivan looked at the others, then back at the hooded figures, unsure of who to address first. He assessed that they were waiting for something, but who would speak first? A million burning questions came to mind, but Sivan decided to cover the basics first.

Unsure if the others would understand his native tongue, he spoke in Spiran. After all, the others were likely wondering the same thing.

"What is this place?" he asked calmly. His Spiran was well-developed, but his accent made it obvious that it wasn't his primary language.

[Kana_Takashi]

Zanarkand, one of Spiras' most historical spots. Arima could remember just about everything his mother would babble about as she went on and on about the ancient city. Sherra would also talk about how unappreciative most Spirans were when it came to history. In her opinion the city should have been preserved in it's former condition instead of being 'gutted' to create more space to play Blitzball.

Either way the teen didn't really care. Arima always liked the city feel instead of the remote seclusion of the countryside. It was probably because he only live in cities for his entire life, Luca and then the bustling Bikanel settlement. He, like his mother, didn't care much for sports, he didn't even like them when he was capable of playing them.

He and Maya had taken an airship to Bevelle and quickly took off north to the Calm Lands. Maya was not a fan of Bevelle, either for what had been done to the Al Bhed in the name of Yven long ago or possibly for personal reasons. Arima wasn't really sure but she had insisted on spending as little time in the city as possible. The travel through the Calm Lands had been rather easy, less fiends had been present than what the young man had expected, but the time he spent at Mt. Gagazet had, been far, his favorite. Arima had been helping Maya with her English but she was still having difficulties with the language. It was quite the funny thing to watch someone who could only speak Al Bhed try and communicate with Ronso. There had been much confusion and even more laughter on Arima's part.

"Rammu? Oui yfyga drana Arima?" Maya asked pulling her cousin out of his thoughts. Last time he checked she had been reading a book but apparently something caught her attention.

The journey from Gagazet to Zanarkand had been slow on Arima's part. A lot of going up and down pathways and snow had cause the pair to move at a slower pace than other groups would have. For the last hour or so they had just been sitting on one of the benches that could be found scattered about on the edges of streets. "E tuh'd ihtancdyht fro fa teth'd zicd dyga yh yencreb rana..."

"Because an airship wouldn't have helped me broaden my horizon." He replied sarcastically to the older female. Taking the easy way to Zanarkand wouldn't have helped him in the least, besides, he wanted to push himself to his physical limits.

"What?" That seemed to be Maya's favorite word as of late. Basically she had only understood about half of that sentence, mostly the shorter words, and she knew he wasn't talking about airships being helpful, that wouldn't have made sense from what she had picked up.

For a second he stared at her with annoyed eyes. Okay, maybe her english hadn't improved as much as he had hoped it would have by now. Maybe he should make her an Al Bhed-to-English dictionary. ""Rumo cred, hajan seht..." Normally he would have only talked to her in Spira's dominate language all the time but the last time that happened Arima got fed up with playing charades.

Taking a hold of his staff he stood, bending his leg a couple of times, before turning to his cousin. "Food." He ordered simply, making his way into the crowded streets afterwards.

With a bit of a yawn Maya stood slowly, stretching and slowly putting her book away. She wasn't really worried about being left behind, no, Arima was slow and she would easily catch up to him. The woman would take her time in following him and when he found something to his liking they would stop and eat. He couldn't start without her anyway, she had the money. After she cracked her neck, the brunette proceeded to make her own way through the crowd, following after her cousin.

[Inerio]

Enneka and Fenvarr whipped around when they heard a voice behind them. Fenvarr's eyes lit up at the fact that there was another living being walking around the petrified zone. Meanwhile Enneka narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the woman. It wasn't as if she didn't like other women, but she generally wasn't about to trust another person walking about. What if it was a trap? She wasn't about to be taken for a fool.

"Ye--" Fenvarr started to speak as to answer the woman's question regarding the robed man. However, she'd jumped down into the rocky abyss before he could answer. Fenvarr found this very troubling as he looked to the hole, then Enneka and then to the hole again. His mouth stammered out something incoherent as he brushed back a loose strand of hair. "I-I think w-we should f-f-follow them." He began. Enneka simply shook her head with a small smirk before she began her descent.

"At least try to look like you won't snap under the weight of our situation when we get to the bottom." Enneka scoffed as she jumped from one rock to another, making sure that she didn't slip and fall all the way to the bottom. Perhaps she was too harsh on Fenvarr, or maybe it was just what he needed. Either way the last comment left a somewhat bad taste in her mouth, she'd have to be somewhat supportive towards the semi-pressure inept mage when they reached the bottom of the pit. Fenvarr followed, using his staff to keep his footing. She had to admit she was impressed at that. When she'd first met him he would have just slipped and busted his ass at the bottom by now.

On the way down a few others passed them, or arrived just as they had. The place was unpleasant to say the least. At least to Enneka is was. Fenvarr regarded it with inquisitive eyes and a slight smile as he contemplated the adventure that could await them in it's depths. Enneka let out a grumpy grunt at the notion, hopefully something frightening would pull Fenvarr out of La-La Land.

"Come, strangers, gather round. Fate is a magnet, drawing you together."

"Oh! This is exciting!" Fenvarr almost squealed naively. Enneka took the liberty of placing her hands on her hips in a haughty manner and looking around at the others before looking at the cloaked figures. Her facial expression read quite clearly that she was not pleased, not pleased at all.

"Fryd dra vilg!?" She cursed in Al Bhed. "Just what is this?" She began, walking ahead of the group and pointing her finger at the the robed man at the center as if the digit was a deadly weapon. "What kind of trick are you trying to pull here? Because I'll be damned if I fall for it."

"Enneka! Don't be so rude I'm sure that there's a good reason." Fenvarr interjected, his mouth pulled into a nervous smile.

"Good reason? They froze the city and led us under ground! It sounds more like a damn good way to get us all killed without any one noticing!" Enneka turned her attention back to the robed figures. "And I want to know why!" From behind her Fenvarr stepped slightly ahead of the group, just in between them and Enneka.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm very s-s-sorry. She usually isn't like this! I can assure you!" He laughed nervously, turning his attention from the robed figures, and then to the group.

[Guest]

He wasn't sure what was tugging at him, and he liked to think of himself as a man strongly rooted in the here and now of things. There were wild eyed mystics in this world, but Sabazian was not one of them.

All the same, there was something chilling his spine as he glanced around out the corner of his eyes and saw those around him were frozen in time and the robed weirdo beckoning him forward. Or, at least, a sibilant voice that sent a prickle up his intestines that he associated with the robed figure.

The mercenary pinched himself on the cheek, hard, to make sure that he really wasn't dreaming this up. Not a dream then.

He grunted grimly as the words came again -- 'Follow.'

Well, there now was a conundrum, because he doubted that following this guy would get him to a place where the milkmaids scrubbed his back and whispered sweetly in his ear as they did so. He was soiled, weary and just arrived. On the other hand, he was also fundamentally unpaid for the last run, and this fellow perhaps would lead to gainful employment.

So he followed, jogging at a clip and using his arms and elbows to help clear the way past any crowdlings standing in the way -- to think the fellow wanted him to follow and then decided to sprint away like that.

"To the spikes with it. A little more sweat won't ruin these clothes anymore, but don't doubt that I won't be adding this to the bill..." he muttered. His voice sounded hoarse in his own ears.

After a while, the chase led him to into an area of metal monstrosities, some hulks of rust jutting up in their shambolic lines and others so new he almost imagined the scent of machine lubricant and ozone upon them. He had nothing against machinery at all, it was reliable, knowable, logical and predictable. If there was a problem with technology, it generally had to do with the creator or the user. There were other things, like this cloaked fellow leading him on a merry chase, that lacked that certainty.

He didn't like the idea of dropping into a hole, whether some sort of catacombs or a sewer. It twinged his natural suspicions that something was amiss. Perhaps it was some sort of job for criminals, though he wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. It wasn't that he necessarily objected to the unpleasant work, but that some things were more trouble than they were worth in hard gil. Either way, having come this far, he dropped a stone down the hole, if only to gauge how far down it was to drop. When he had that ascertained, he lowered himself down gingerly.

Inside, there was light, but he moved with as slow a pace as if there were darkness all around, because this was equally creepy. He could hear his steps echoing all too loudly in his ears -- hobnailed boots, campaigner's boots, though scuffed and dusty like the rest of his clothing -- as he proceeded further in, more spooked than reassured by the light. There were stairs, but he didn't tarry at them; he heard noise ahead of him, and followed that, instead, though he moved carefully, making sure that his footfalls found purchase on the stone; moisture had its own smell.

His halberd was held in the ready, carried in both hands; blood had its own smell too. He could hear voices, he followed thouse, and emerged into a chamber, along with others...people in a variety of clothes, and people all in the same robes. Something felt wrong, or fishy, and his movements reflected that. He cast his glance around, ascertaining his terrain; a glance around and above, to check for some sort of trap or other robed figures -- he assumed cultists or criminals.

"Come, strangers, gather round. Fate is a magnet, drawing you together."

He didn't like the sound of that one bit.

"Stake me for an easily-led fool," he muttered.

[Eternity]

Fate Brings Us
Together

The Underground Group


Questions arose as the Priests stood there, standing, staring endlessly. Their dark sockets issued out fearsome glares, though at once they were soft and questioning. One of them stepped out and in front of the rest, as the others stood in a line behind him. His lips parted and his voice poured through the room, coming unanimously from all the cloaked men. They raised their heads towards the ceiling, all but the center man. He raised his hand, waving it about as he spoke.

"The time of leisure has come to an end. Awakening, is the beast, come to devour us once more... Come, heroes, and rise to the challenge. Tomorrow is a new day; and the journey has yet to begin... Prepare yourselves."

Those last words left the air feeling a little chillier than before. The chamber seemed to throb, to quake very slightly, as an almost groan-like noise filled the distance beneath the hard stone floor. As though something was beneath them, eager to rise up. The men began to shake themselves, the cloaked figures slowly growing taller. From their just above six feet tall height, they rose to about seven feet. Their heads seemed to lean back until the hungry crackle of bones erupted from their dark garments, as their necks broke. They began to shift, changing horrifically...

"Heroes, all the same. So many different stories, and today they all come together. Today, they all change... Prove that the weight of responsibility will not leave you crushed beneath it."

Priest's Trial

His hood fell back, but his head was still black as coal and his mask still skin-tight against him. The Priests began to twitch, and their porcelain lips pulled into something of a jagged toothed grin, as they stood so completely straight that their knees began to bend backwards.

"The spirits call me their Priest." They all said in unison, as the sound of bones cracking sharpened and their legs bent back into that of a canine's leg, making them fall forward onto all fours. Their fingers grew lanky and sharp, and the red stripes on the mask grew upwards and tapered into long perilous horns. The Priests all laughed, their smiles thinning back to their hollow expression as they moved like fiends across the room, one for each person there.


Roe

The Priest creature stepped forward, without a snarl nor growl. So animal-like in features, yet it was quiet to the usual ferocity of a monster. It looked upon her with dark empty sockets, and its fanged grin spread wide. It leaped then, readying to attack. One arm swept into the air and the other planted into the earth. Its claws neared her, ready to devour her.

Roe jumped back, out of the way. And quickly too- thank goodness. She latched her nimble fingers to the whip at her side. She ripped it upwards, and the steel snake uncoiled, lashing forward with precision and speed. It clapped against the Priest's wrist, knocking him back.

He landed on all fours, and then brought his attention back to the woman. He leaned into a crouch, and howled, reaching up and casting a small thunder spell upon her. Sparks darted around her body until they finally grew, blue lightning dancing together in a small cage that sent shocks through her body. Roe let out a small cry of pain, but took the attack rather well. She shook off the pain of it, and readied her next move.

"Cheer!" She said, raising her free hand over her head. Soft white/blue lights danced around all seven of her newly found allies, and encouraged them. It filled them with the strength to fight, and the wisdom to defend. As such were the effects: strength and defense heightened by 1 point.

And she readied then to finish off the Priest before her...



Ikanan

The Priest before him seems to stalk about, encircling him from a safe distance. It casts Scan, analyzing the Ronso's weaknesses. Once complete, the monster moves forth, and quite hastily too. It reaches its arm up and draws it back.
Priest readies to jab his claws straight for you, with the effect of Pierce.


Fenvarr

The Priest before him seems to smirk, porcelain lips pulling into a wicked grin. He can sense his fear. Seeping off of this black mage. Time to fight! He begins to race forward, ducking down and twisting, turning into a spiraling slash attack. Long dark claws ready to strike Fenvarr.


Enneka

The Priest before her seems to use stealthy motions, as if aware of her great ability to evade. He seems to creep towards her, before finally jumping at his new victim. The PRiest before her swipes his claws at her, in hopes of striking.

(Steal possibility: (1) Grenade)
(Use possibility: (1) Grenade)


Sivan

The Priest before Sivan wastes no time. With agility, he leaps forward, his back legs pushing hard against the earth as he sweeps up to attack. His claws extend, but that is not his approach. Instead, he digs them into the ground and propels himself faster, opening a jaggedly fanged mouth in an attempt to bite.


Sabazian

The Priest looks over you with dark unseen eyes, a smile upon porcelain lips. Ah, it is thinking Sabazian to be slow in battle. It readies to see if this is true, as it leaps to the occasion, tilting his head and readying to ram Sabazian with his sharp crimson horns.


Piotr

The Priest before Piotr takes a moment to engulf his sight in the large vicious man. But his lips part to show ferocious teeth, as he digs his claws into the ground. As the beast runs forward, it leaps, and readies to bite at Piotr's side or arms.

_______________________

The prize for defeating the Priest is (1) Potion

Directions:
Fight off the monstrous Priest creature before you! And hurry!
It feels... it feels like something is about to happen, and the Underground chamber is beginning to shake!

Arima & Maya


As they wander about, Zanarkand begins to change. Something happens, slowly at first, then quickly. At first notice, it seems like time hiccups, stopping then restarting in a split second's passing. But then, after another few seconds, time stops again, and this time, it is not changing back. The people are still, open mouthed and some standing on one leg as if they were in motion.

Suddenly, in the midst of the crowd, pass two hasty creatures on all fours. Taller than a canine, and black as night all over. They bear two long red horns and have these red horns turn into stripes that fall over a disfigured porcelain mask over their faces. Their eyes cannot be seen and their bodies move in very lithe and nimble gestures. When the two stop, the simultaneously turn their heads and spot Arima and Maya.

One parts its lips and shows its fangs, but words creep from between those fangs, even though it seems that their mouths were not moving for such speech.

"Heroes...", one says, when the other one reacts by tilting his head. "Heroes, all the same. Prepare yourselves..."

The two Priests then begin to bound for the both of you, racing and ready to fight. But before they reach you, they are halted, as the ground gives off a quiet shake...

The Priests lean their heads back and howl out a sharp cry, before shaking their heads back towards Arima and Maya. The two Priests then ready to attack!


Arima

The Priest before you is fast, moving at you in such a graceful bound that it cannot be fled from. Without fleeing as an option, it races towards you. It turns its head, and readies its horns. Sharp crimson horns aim at your body.


Maya

The Priest before you waits a moment, before finally stepping forward. After having looked over you with dark eerie sockets, it seems to lean up. It lifts one hand, and a spell forms. Around you are small blue sparks, but they quickly connect. The Priest has cast Thunder.

_________________________

The prize for defeating the Priest is (1) Potion

Directions:
Fight off the monstrous creature before you! And hurry!
It feels like something is about to happen, and Zanarkand is no longer safe!

[Klikxx]

"... Prepare yourselves."

Piotr stood frozen, mesmerized by the scene unfolding before him. He watched in horror as the priest’s body shifted and contorted from man to beast. Laughter erupted from the teeth laden maw of the beast as it circled cautiosly sizing up the behemoth man. The Blitzer tightened his grip upon the soft sphere in his hand readied for the inevitable attack.

He was not to be disappointed with a long courtship. The creature before him seemed to sneer at Piotr’s show of boldness. Flashing its razor sharp teeth and stamping his claws into parched earth in disgust. The beast lunged forward, springing toward the muscular target letting out a boatful roar.

For a large man Piotr was quick and agile. Even as the beast hurled itself forward mouth opened wide preparing to rip the flesh from his bones the courageous Spiran countered with a similar lunge of his own. Piotr shoved his armored forearm deep into the gaping mouth of his opponent as the two collided in mid air. Wrapping his free arm around the waist to secure the canine attacker he rolled the unsuspecting quarry beneath him as the two crashed back to the cold stone floor.

The creature released a dour yelp of pain as the full weight of the giant man crashed down upon him. The vise-like lock the beast released long enough for Piotr to free himself from its ravenous jaws. Blood already tricked down his forearm from where the razor sharp fangs had pierced not only his protective plastic guard but his soft flesh as well as he unleashed his next attack.

It took all the strength he could muster to hold the struggling beast in place. The huge gauntleted hand firmly grasped the throat of the beast in effort to choke out the life-giving air that it breathed. Desperately the savage creature lashed out with its claws in an effort to free itself. A shallow gash was opened up in Piotr’s side as one such blow ripped through the heavy cloth of his garment.

Unrelenting in his attempt to suffocate his opponent the giant man shifted his weight forward as he brought his knees up to the chest of the beast. Once in position he rocked back on his haunches in a sudden motion. The loud snapping of bones could be heard once again, this time under Piotr’s influence. The creature below him fell motionless as a snapped rib pierced its lung and heart.

Piote took a large breath in victory loosening his grip slowly as he studied the lifeless form below his. Such a waste he thought as he recalled the priest’s words echoed through words mind. How ironic it was that his trial now lay crushed beneath him. Remembering he was not alone the Spiran quickly scanned the chamber for the others. This fight was not over yet.

[Gabe]

Sivan's mouth went dry to the sounds and sights of the priest's transformations. He reflexively reached for his gauche blade with a sweaty palm, unsure of what was about to happen. His first mistake was hesitation.

As soon as the slender claws touched the earth beneath them, the hellion broke at a full sprint towards the Al Bhed. Sivan postured himself, drawing his blades simultaneously and prepared to swing, but the incoming attack was a feint! It planted it's forelegs into the earth and leaped forward at full speed, baring its teeth. Sivan barely missed having his legs taken out from under him as he sidestepped the attack, nearly falling down as it brushed past him. He followed through with the rotation to face his opponent again, only to find that it had done the same, preparing it's second rapacious attack. It leaped at throat level this time, snarling fiercely. This time, Sivan tucked under the attack and brought his gauche blade upward across the hound's abdomen. The attack landed, but not without a cost. As it went over his head, the creature's forelegs grazed over Sivan's upper back, cutting his shoulders.

Sivan sharply gasped through clenched teeth as he recoiled from the unexpected attack. He went down on one knee for a split second, keeping his attention on the beast.

Black blood seemed to boil from the wound he had caused. As they struck the floor, the droplets seemed to evaporate on contact, hissing as they vanished from sight. Sivan stood again, taking the initiative this time. His back throbbed, but he was able to keep his focus on the next attack which he planned on finishing the beast with. It was clearly slowed by its injuries, which Sivan seized as he lunged forward with his own attack. The Kukri blade came down diagonally with great speed, but the clever beast threw itself backwards, saving itself from the fatal blow.

Sivan knew what was coming before it happened. Before he could even line up a second strike, the beast pounced forward with the strength it had left, catching Sivan center-mass and throwing him out on his back, pinning him to the floor. His back ignited with pain for a split second, but there was no time for that.

Sivan locked eyes with the creature for a short moment. The beast, sensing victory, returned the look with a hollow stare before continuing its assault.
Cheer! could be heard from the young Spiran mage. It was picture-perfect timing. The Al Bhed rocked himself to one side just as the seven foot beast snapped at his face, narrowly missing him. The motion had freed his right arm, which Sivan took advantage of by stabbing towards his opponents head. The attack didn't hit precisely, being caught by the creature's large teeth instead. If nothing else, it would prevent it from biting him momentarily. Sivan seized the opportunity by rolling in the opposite direction this time, bucking the large creature off of him and rolling himself to the dominant stance over it. He placed both hands on the back of the Kukri and began pressing straight down with all of his might. It began working its way down into the beasts jaw as priest howled in protest, kicking its hind legs at Sivan in an attempt to throw him off. It flailed more and more as the blade sank deeper into the flesh, eventually meeting the connection between skull and jaw. With one last labored shout, Sivan forced the blade downward, severing the jaw from the beasts head and nearly decapitating it completely. The giant canine yelped before going limp, it's black blood steaming from the wounds, just as before.

Sivan stood on his feet above the defeated beast, panting for breath. The fight had only taken a matter of seconds, but it was brutal from start to finish. Sivan swung his Kukri blade downward, flinging the black blood from its surface. He then snapped back to reality and realized there was still a fight going on.

[Kana_Takashi]

Time seemed to be moving at a slow pace. It was like playing something in slow motion, at least until it stopped all together. Immediately this caused both Arima and Maya to place there guards up. Both could sense the strange atmosphere that had surrounded them and uneasiness crept up both of their spines. "Careful." Arima said to his older cousin, keeping his eyes open for anything out of the ordinary. There was no need for him to voice his caution though, Maya had long ago started to gather her barrings.

Then they appeared. Disgusting creatures and although Maya had seen many types of fiend before, never had she come across anything like these. Dark as night with red horns. Porcelain masks giving them a strange human-like face on there not human bodies. Words had sprouted from their mouths, neither had thought them capable of speech.

Maya had not understood what they were saying but she did hear the word hero and although she may have been called many things in her life time, a hero was never one of them. "Fryd ec ed dymgehk ypuid?" She asked Arima, who just seemed to respond with a shrug. Either way these things seemed to be hostile and in a few minutes that showed to be true when sharp howls broke through the silence and the two creatures became more primal.

The small blue sparks that surrounded Maya were what set her in motion as fast as her body would allow. With barely any time left to think the magic hit the spot inches from her right. She had been lucky to dodge it but her main concern would be Arima. With the limp in his leg and no weapons beyond his staff, there was no way he would be able to defeat his assigned monster alone, but that was fine. The cousins were a team and it was always Maya being the attacker and Arima being the supporter.

Arima took a deep breath and lifted his staff. After seeing that the creature could use magic it was time to take precautions. "Nul-Shock." His voice rang as the canine like creature raced towards him. A small yellow orb appeared beside both Maya and Arima and just as it began to encircle both of them Maya was in front of her younger cousin, using her own body as a shield for the magic caster.

Not much damage was done but one of it's horns had grazed her side, causing a cut to appear on her right side. She extracted her swords and brought one down towards the dog, but it dodged at the last second. Another thunder attack came down, this time hitting her but the yellow ball absorbed it and she just continued her attack. This time Maya ended up hitting the thing, her sword slicing right into it's neck. Blood came down in a large spill as she jumped back towards Arima who had yet again casted another Nul-Shock.

"Uha tufh, hud rinno ouin ycc ib yht gemm dra udran uha Maya." Arima yelled, his eyes on the last monster. Maya replied back in Al Bhed, telling him not to be cocky. Just as she finished her words she ran towards the last remaining foe. Once again blue sparks appeared but Maya wasn't concerned about if she could dodge it or not, she was being protected after all. The magic hit her and she hit its caster. This one too went down with it's throat slashed but not before digging its horn into her left leg.

Pulling away from her enemy Maya made her way limping back to Arima. Quickly he began casting Cure on her and after the cast both of her wounds were closed. Wiping the sweat from her brow she kept her eyes sharp for any other possible attackers. For some reason she had the feeling that things weren't over yet and on that note, Arima had the same feeling.

[Inerio]

Of course it was a priest. It's always a priest. Enneka had come to distrust people of organized religion. After the whole Sin incident she felt she had good reason to. While not one to spit on the idea of a higher power Enneka felt that priests and prophets were nothing but trouble. And, at the moment, she was quite right in believing so.

The priest went on a long(well, long for a person like Enneka) tangent. Or, rather, a rather large speech the likes of which Enneka didn't even bother to attempt to fathom. She hadn't an inkling of a clue as to what they were talking about in the first place. There was the mentioning of heroes, and a journey, things that were generally unimportant to Enneka who was wondering just how to run from the situation. Fenvarr on the other hand listened to the apparitions with wide eyed child like wonder. It was only a matter of time before the reality of the impending fight at hand crashed down into the Mage's conscious.

"Of course they change into something grotesque." Enneka sighed gruffly, unsheathing her weapons. She moved so that her back was to Fenvarr's not wanting it unprotected and wanting to be close enough to save the Mage from a close call. Normally Fenvarr could hold his own against fiends. However, they weren't in any normal situation and Enneka didn't want to take any chances.

Fenvarr wasn't sure if he was elated by the discovery of the priests or infinity scared by the creatures intent to hurt him. The wicked smirk upon the fiend's face didn't help the matter either. Feeling Enneka just behind him was reassuring, and the ever so soft tap of her accessories against his back reminded him of his need to stay vigilant. He help his staff, as if to fight with it. Fenvarr knew that if he wanted to cast a spell he'd have to get the creature a good distance away. As the creature advanced on him Fenvarr held his breath, he couldn't afford screw ups in this fight.

Enneka had begun to wonder if staying so close to Fenvarr was a good idea. The creature before her was advancing on her, swaying to and fro with it's sinister features. At the very least it couldn't attack from behind, the thief took solace in that. The creature jumped at her, and she braced for impact. Her thieves eye saw the possible steal, but she hadn't the time. Nor could she use a grenade, or she might burn herself and Fenvarr. Instead she caught the creature's claws within her metallic claws.

At the same time Fenvarr had raised his staff in order to intercept the spiraling attack the ghastly apparition had directed his way. A claw had indeed managed to slice his cheek, but Fenvarr ignored the wound at the moment. He'd have worse abrasions to worry about should he fail to protect himself. The impact of the two creatures caused the pair to slam into one another. While it made for a solid stance, it didn't leave either with much of a chance to get away.

"Goddammit." Enneka glowered. Behind her Fenvarr's arms had begun to shake slightly under the pressure of the creature. Enneka grunted at she pushed the creature with most of her upper body strength off of her and then slammed back as hard as possible into Fenvarr, who lurched forward. She hoped that the move would simultaneously remove both creatures, but even one would do for the moment.

[Guest]

He snarled right back at the guy; he wasn't a man of many words, but he knew the psychology of battle and wasn't about to cede the advantage by smiling or being cavalier -- battle was his business, and he went about it methodically. Part of the methodology was to control his facial expressions, to appear relentless and cruel before the enemy. And in thinking like that, to assume a mental posture of aggression himself.

They hadn't the faintest clue of how to fight a halberd-wielder; the frontal attack was the worst possible option, and that was reflected in the fact that he quickly and automatically, the product of years of training, set himself to receive a charge; it was a heavy, unwieldy (for the uninitiated, trained was a different matter) weapon, but it was also deadly in the hands of an expert, often from a culture of lifelong training.

There was a foot long spike, sharpened like a spearhead, to cap off the halberd.

The horns were long, the polearm was longer. The priest came only to impale himself on the weapon and to find Sabazian, with a yell that expelled breath and timed to his momentum, bringing the spitted bastard down so that he could finish disemboweling him -- there was nothing pretty to a gutting with a halberd, but it did get the job done, in the most messy possible fashion.

He was pouncing on the prone, impaled figure, he had to. The man-beast had his opportunity to rip claws into Sabazian's lower leg, shearing through the leather of his left boot to find flesh and sinew even as he brought the right boot up and smashed it into the priest's face, with another snarl -- there were some warriors that fought gracefully, like a dance. He fought with a professionalized brutality that made mockery of the 'art' of killing.

He never took his grip off the haft of his halberd as he kept bringing the spike into the beast's bowels, jabbing brutally in the areas he knew to contain vital organs until the guy was gone -- he'd never quite had to fight to the hilt like that before, despite years of training, from his father, from other warriors of the road, vagrants who sold their fighting skill for gold coin and then moved on. He'd never actually had to fight a pitched battle as much as skirmish, and this sort of killing was unfamiliar to him despite the invocation of his conditioning and training that helped overcome any lingering civilized inhibitions against killing.

There might have been some sort of response from the beast; he really wasn't paying attention to protestations or that sort of thing as much as he was focused on the killing. When it was done, he found himself lathered with sweat as if he'd run around the city for only a minute's worth of strenuous work, and felt the burn on both legs, where the creature latched onto in its last throes...his boots, stout leather, kept the claws from shredding too deeply, but he still bled from the gashes, though it wasn't the flow of blood from a clean, precise cut, but the slower movement of blood through jagged and irregular slashes, taking a more circuitous route out.

He looked around for the other opportunities to mop up, though it seemed more and more that each opponent was designed to take on each person -- there were not tactics here, no organization. It was just a fight of individuals.

Just for good measure, though, he brough the halberd up, raising his right arm over his shoulder, took a measured aim and brought the spike down into a soft spot on the thing's skull.

"Stay dead."

Always paid to check your work.

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