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Max
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[Slags Deep - The Beneath] Breaking Silence

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75 Ashan 718


The Beneath was no place for friends or allies. There was no sense of camaraderie or a need to band together to ensure mutual survival. Within the deepest depths of the labyrinth that was Slags Deep prison, it was every man and woman for themselves. The inmates haunting the dark mine halls were nothing like the spineless thugs Maxine was used to dealing with. Mages and marked alike battled for light, resources, and wealth to both survive and earn their freedom. Every creature that wasn't her lurking in this dark abyss was a formidable enemy. The Element cultists she'd been so concerned about for their transgressions against her held no candle to the monsters that shared her new residence. The Rusalka, for all her fury and tenacity, was well out of her league.

Try as they may, one could never successfully spend their trials on the Seventh Floor totally alone forever. Running into another being in the eerie darkness was just as inevitable as it was perilous. An accidental shoulder bump leading to an all-out brawl as opposed to a pile of fresh corpses would've been considered a decent trial. The fate of such encounters was always up to those involved in it. The robust guards posted at The Run were tasked only with securing the entrance and exit. The well-being of the prisoners was not a part of their job description, and thus they couldn't be counted on to prevent one inmate from massacring another.

In the rare instances conversation was thrown into the air between strangers in place of fists, it was more so to keep sanity than to create friendships. The topics of discussion tended to repeat between each new meeting. Inevitably, someone would finally inquire what the other had done to deserve time in Slags Deep. Half would swear themselves innocent of the crimes that they were convicted of. Maxine, however, preferred to answer the same way she seemed to respond to everything now: alarming silence.

The gentle glow of a neighbor's dwindling torchlight barely illuminated the wall she swung her pickaxe into. She knew her chosen mining spot was one that held a reputation for fruitlessness. The hardened, more powerful criminals in her class had monopolized the few areas of demonstrable promise. The threat of a bleak outcome for her efforts did nothing to stop the repetitive piercing of steel to stone. Her only thoughts were those of finding precious onyx to deplete her tab, and the unyielding anger that still burned inside her kept her pickaxe viciously striking the wall. The sound was as consistent and willful as a heartbeat. Like all disturbances within the Seventh Floor, however, the obvious indication she was mining toward liberation brought the wolves sprinting to her doorstep.

"Well, well," an arrogant, familiar voice echoed out nearby. "I see our girl Max is still at it! You've been going at this for what? Ten trials straight now?" A duo of chuckles following the man's observation reminded her that he was not alone in the darkness behind her. Max paused to glance in vain over her shoulder into the black. Then she turned back to face her task and continued swinging. Her indifference was not something the other prisoners seemed to like. Not one bit. "What's the matter, eh? Can't give good ole Lenny the time of trial still?" She could feel the callouses on the pads of her hands ripping. The wounded flesh stung with sweat. The pickaxe never slowed.

"Y'know, there was a new crew that came in today," Lenny continued, his voice drawing nearer with each passing trill. "Fresh meat always talks too much, but Immortals be fucked, they had some interesting things to say about you." Max pressed her lips together. By now the trials for the others captured in the riots must've concluded. Citizens of Scalvoris Town she'd driven to violence against the Elements were likely shoved in most of the levels above the Seventh. If Lenny was about to reveal accurate information about the crimes she was convicted for, that suggested there was somehow information passed between The Beneath and the other levels after all.

"They say you fancy yourself an Element Killer," Lenny sneered. "You've got quite the body count of those pompous bastards for a little girl, too. That was some heavy stuff those boys did to you and those other women. And that riot? Bold. Guess it's true what they say about a woman scorned." The men laying in wait behind her went silent as though they expected exposing her would get a rise out of her. Instead they found her silence remained unbroken. The only sound she made was the one of her tool chipping further into the wall. Part of her had hoped they'd see her quietness as boring and go. She knew they never would. This pack of mangy strays planned to lunge at her the moment the dying torchlight revealed she'd found something of value.

"That's not all I heard," her lurking nuisance persisted in his mockery. His hand moved back to give one of his goons a friendly slap to the middle, a decided "watch this" gesture before he revealed what else the rioters spilled about her. "Stories go you had the chance to give Thorst Fall's Special Assistant a second smile before they threw you in chains. What happened, Element Killer? You choke?" One of the other men in the darkness started up with faux gagging noises while the others guffawed. Maxine's pickaxe slammed into stones with more force. The subtle change was all the encouragement Lenny required.

The brute slowly made his way into the edge of torchlight. With his arms crossed over his thick chest, he leered just a few feet behind the working Rusalka. "I'm gettin' out of here real soon though. Real soon. Tab's almost up. Man's got a hunger too, being down in a pit all these arcs if y'know what I mean." His ominous tone reverberated throughout the small tunnel space at this distance. It was as though his words were encircling her, forcing her to acknowledge something in her world other than the wall she was so concentrated on. "Maybe when I'm free I'll take a walk over to Scalvoris Town to get a look at that Special Assistant for myself; do what you couldn't after I'm finished having my way with her." Lenny turned to look over his shoulder, sneering. "What do you think, boys? I'd wager that even if I was caught for that crime, I'd at least return a king for it!"

Lenny had hardly finished getting the last word out before Maxine's pickaxe had turned to bust in his skull. If it wasn't the steel to his temple that did him in, it was certainly the momentum of the crushing blow that sent him careening head-first into the rocks. His friends staggered back with mouths agape and eyes wide. The Rusalka looked down over Lenny's body where it awkwardly laid, his limbs twitching in spasms in a way that left the others weak in the knees. Blood flowed from the side of his head like her pickaxe had struck a water source through stone. Eyes swarming with dark, feral hostility, she spun the pickaxe in her hands and brought the point down straight through his face with every ounce of strength she had.

"Crazy bitch!" one of the grieving shadows lunged toward her with inhuman teeth bared. The Rusalka's brow raised, the sight reminding her faintly of Kura before she realized the marked beast was upon her. In a trill she was roughly knocked down on her back. Only the pickaxe head pressed to her attacker's chest kept the gnashing canines up and away from her neck. Her muscles strained, teeth gritting as she desperately tried to keep the rabid man at bay. She could feel her strength ebbing away, fangs coming closer and closer to her vulnerable flesh with every passing trill the pair struggled. Max shoved the man sidelong off her rather than continue to attempt to fight gravity. Her wolfish foe went careening beside her, but his surviving friend had come to grips with Lenny's reaping and was quick to challenge the Rusalka. The stone-encrusted fist of the apparent Defier struck Max just as she started to find her feet. Once more she was cast upon the floor, gravel scraping the heels of her hands and the tops of her knees.

Shit, shit, shit!

Karem's imprisoned hunter had recovered by then. He stalked toward her with a snarl. His shin shot out into the side of her ribs, knocking her over onto her back in time for the Defier to gather more ether. The soil itself reached up to swallow her ankles, holding her in place while more snaked up in search of her wrists. She sat up to wrench her arms away from the rising stones in time to crack the wolf-man in the jaw with a fist. Her feet desperately yanked themselves free of the ground and she rose to stand. She violently backpedaled only to feel her back hit a tunnel wall.

The torchlight she'd been working in faded away completely, leaving her blind to her enemies where they stalked her in the dark. Her heart hammered with despair in her chest. As good as she was in a brawl, she couldn't beat down the punch she couldn't see coming; and come they did indeed. One of that sort careened in from her flank, stone-studded knuckles blasting first into her cheek and then into her solar plexus. They rained down upon her mercilessly. Strikes came from nearly every angle, each one as unpredictable in the dark as the first. Several cracked across her face, and by the time she’d found the sense to raise her guard to give her head reprieve, a body shot soared in to knock the wind clean from her lungs.

She bent forward with a gasp only to be wrenched away from the wall, thrown forward onto her stomach. Her fingers curled around the loose gravel and her eyes blinked as though they could will away the blackness that encircled her. Her mind screamed at her to get up. Every instinct in her body willed her to fight, even if it amounted to little more than swinging her fists haphazardly in the darkness around her in hopes one struck a ghost. The Rusalka grimaced as she prepared to force her aching frame back up. Blood dripped thickly from her lips to mix with the gravel below. Then, a bestial growl rumbled a few feet before her.

The next thing she knew, the canine-teethed man had wrenched her up from behind on her knees. The Defier grasped one of her arms on the other side. She wildly tried in vain to battle their grip, eyes frantically looking between her enemies and the creature she could feel moving closer. Its yellow eyes flashed open. What little light there was in the tunnel illuminated a set of large, agape, off-white fangs. The color drained from her face. The bloodthirsty anticipation of her strong-armed captors grew with each passing trill the wolf came close to tearing Maxine asunder.

For punishing Lenny, this would be her end.
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Mercedes
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[Slags Deep - The Beneath] Breaking Silence

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Ran'dar had just finished another harsh lesson for Mercedes to learn. He needed to become a durable, flexible fighter fit to take on any challenge at any given moment. In order to be an apex predator, and survive; one had to be just as powerful physically as they were magically. Combat was never what someone expected it to be, and more often than not opponents had several tricks up their sleeve. Every great warrior of time had some form of technique they only used in the case of emergencies. However, as they ventured through the Deep together; a cacophony of noises were heard. The voices were in the same direction as that rather bright torch-light. Although on the outside world such a small amount of light would be considered dim. In the beneath there were simply two choices, to hide and remain alive, or to reveal yourself and die. These people had to either be incredibly confident and strong, or very arrogant and stupid. They likely misunderstood what it meant to be a part of the beneath; they could have been snapped up and killed quite easily.

However, as the sounds of combat rang out, and the torch light died only to return the vicinity into eternal darkness; as voices echoed about. There were obviously men, but Mercedes interpreted that noise entirely differently from Ran'dar. The Ithecal simply thought of the area as being dangerous, and one that the pair should not travel to. The sorcerer grabbed hold of Ran'dar by one of his many massive scales and made an attempt to speak with him.

“That is Max, the one you agreed to help find... If she is any danger we have to save her. Remember, that this increases my debt to you by twice the amount that I owed you initially.. Please.. You have to help me, Colossus!” The sorcerer whispered in assumption and Ran'dar with a voice so deep, so raspy that it could shatter the cave walls spoke in response to The Sorcerer.

“Very well, I will save your cunt. However, Those men, their resources, they will all be mine. If you elect to request anything further from me.. You will owe me that too. “ Ran'dar spoke as he entered a strange combat stance. The Croc took up a position almost as if he wished to tackle an opponent to the ground, his forelegs rested against the stone floor, and his rear legs hoisted upward; his scaly stomach rested against the stone floor. With a series of swift motions; he kicked with such force that the stone beneath his heels shattered and he propelled forward.

The reptile rocketed toward the two opponents, and the first had been the Karem marked. Ran'dar let out an aggressive, guttural roar so powerful that the sorcerers chest cavity trembled. Every sense of the unsuspecting fools equilibrium had been lost. In what seemed to be a split-trill the man had been suspended in the air. Ran'dar used his acrobatic prowess, and although he was incredibly large; he was so mobile that one would think he weighed nothing. His large, gaping maw opened as he “Death-rolled” over on his back and exposed his torso to the ceiling. The man had been snapped up by the ankle, and when the reptiles teeth sank into his shin bone it simply broke. The sound of the limb being gnarled echoed about the vicinity.

Ran'dar rolled again, and used the descending momentum in combination with his body weight, and the adversaries own to bring him down. The man slammed against the cave ground so hard that one could hear the audible sound of all his ribs being destroyed all at once. Crimson body fluid spattered about, and the scent of iron filled the air as Ran'dar completed the third, and final rotation of his body which brought the man up again, and down into the wall on the opposite side of the vicinity. His body slammed against the rock so hard this time however, that the entire leg had been twisted off at the hip, and his skull split open as if struck by an axe. Max and the remaining Defier had been spattered with blood as if it rained from the ceiling above.

Ran'dar swallowed the severed limb whole, and called out to Mercedes.

“This one, you and I will take together.. Remember what I have taught you, boy.” The Reptile spoke aloud, and The Defier reacted with something the sorcerer had not expected in the moment. A moderate amount of flame simply exited his palms as he turned, and the flame made the attempt to surround Mercedes. In-fact it did surround him, and as the wave struck him; he noticed that he simply did not burn. Although he thought the elements abandoned him; the flame “spoke” to him again almost as if it were confused, desperate to understand why Mercedes did not speak with him. A series of heavy breaths took place, and his heart raced with adrenaline as it coursed through his veins.

However, The Sorcerer yelled at the top of his lungs, he made attempts to reconnect with The elements before. Some did not work, and he had not been exposed to his dear friend fire in quite some time. Yet, the flame seemed angry, and “Yelled” at him in the form of loud crackling. “I'm Sorry! I was a coward! You would never betray me!” The sorcerer exclaimed, as he thrust both his hands into the fire, and seemingly “pulled” it apart. However, he felt the hungry spark, and ether course through the entirety of his body, as he seized control from his enemy. The flame had gone from being orange, and reddish to cerulean in what seemed to be several trills. It slowly changed colors, and the cerulean overwhelmed the orange.

The flame had been held in the palms of both the sorcerers hands, and he fired it back with overwhelming force.

“She belongs to me.”
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[Slags Deep - The Beneath] Breaking Silence

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She was staring face-to-face with a set of salivating canine fangs, defeat and fear filling her, when Karem's favored was viciously yanked away from her side. His hands released her to fight a new enemy none of them could see in the dark. The grey wolf raised its snarling head to watch its screaming master disappear with a gaze as bewildered as the Rusalka and defier. The sound of snapping bones rang out in time with the marked man's shrieks and a beasts's roar, the latter of which reverberated deep within the bodies of everyone present. The sound of a dead-weight body hitting the ground made the defier jump. Blood spattered across the two of them as the screams came to a conclusive end. The defier dropped Maxine to prepare for monsters far greater than him, leaving her to collapse face-first upon the floor.

Her head swirled with confusion and pain. She could hear voices, the deep one of the creature in the dark apparently addressing another unseen ally. The arrival of these people, who seemed intent on murdering those that aimed to kill her, did not fill her with relief. They were merely more formidable adversaries. She had no doubt in her mind that they would kill her when they were finished with Karem's favored and the defier. Earth Mask had been right. She wasn't going to survive this place. Still, she'd made herself that last defiant promise. Against all odds, she'd still try to prove him wrong. At the very least, she wished to perish on her feet.

Every piece of her body ached. Already could she feel the bruises from her beating appearing on her skin, the flesh opened with rock-enforced strikes stinging something miserable. She blinked in time to watch the claws of the wolf vanish from the ground ahead of her, its snarl ripping from its throat as it rushed to avenge its master. The taste of blood filled her mouth. Her hands pressed against the earth and she began the arduous process of forcing her frame up again. Max felt the heat of a manifested flame behind her, but it wasn't until she heard the yell of another in the dark that her thoughts began to escape the haze beaten into her head. Her eyes widened and she drew her knees up to bring her to all-fours.

Mercedes...

The defier she'd given up everything for did not perish in the burst of fire from her enemy. Instead she heard his plea to his kindred element, and turned her head in time to spy him part his way through the attack with his bare hands. Her lips parted to call for him, but the words never came. Just more blood dripping to color the grey gravel below. Her eyes glued themselves to Mercedes, spotting the red flames turned as blue as those coating the sword he'd given her around his hands. The next thing she knew, she was turning away again to take cover while a torrent of fire was sent toward the defier. Then she heard his voice. It was a confirmation it was indeed him. Unlike Earth Mask, he was no wraith sent here to haunt her. He was here. He was real. He was still protecting her.

"Mercedes," Maxine finally managed to breathe, likely too quiet over the sound of ensuing combat. Her hand shot out to grasp the pickaxe she'd discarded bits ago. Her dirty fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of the tool and drew it toward her. She weakly lifted it and pressed the top of the pickaxe head into the dirt, grinding it against the hard floor as she used it to agonizingly force her body up to stand.

The light provided by the defiers had briefly illuminated the tunnel for her to properly see her surroundings. Off to the side she could see a behemoth of a creature. The reptilian man had blood dripping down the scales of his mouth, and the very sight of him made her heart hammer in her chest. Beneath him rested the mangled body of the Velduris-marked man. His limbs were twisted and turned awkwardly where he'd hit the ground, one of his legs missing. With the grey wolf approaching with ears pinned, she figured it would be only trills before the canine followed its master into The Beyond. Clearly Mercedes had been the "boy" this monstrosity had been referring to, and if it were to be believed that they were allies, the mage had made a powerful friend indeed.

Her gaze found Lenny where he'd been crumpled upon the ground. Thanks to her work with the pickaxe, his features were destroyed to a point where he was barely recognizable. Still, the very sight of him had resurrected the intense wrath that had overcome her earlier. The entirety of her focus moved next to the back of the defier facing down Mercedes. Her feet trudged quickly forward. With her tool-turned-weapon in hand, Max very much intended to brain one last enemy if her savior hadn't ended him first.
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Mercedes
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[Slags Deep - The Beneath] Breaking Silence

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As a relatively large amount of ether; seemingly stored over the course of several trials without the ability to use fire had been concentrated. The sorcerer thought to himself about how foolish of a decision he made. The flame had been his only companion in the world outside of Max, and never before did he betray either of them. The sorcerer had not even truly wanted to kill himself; he wanted to make it appear as if his method of escape had truly been suicide. However, that plan went far worse than he assumed before. Warning had always come before destruction, and death was simply a product brought on by chaos. The sorcerer considered this situation no different, and as the remainder of the fire dissipated save for what had been around his fists, he struck. The flame had been launched out with open palms in the same fashion as it had been sent toward him. With Max making attempts to avoid the heat of combat; Ran'dar snapped up the wolf too with unhinged jaws. With a second simultaneous motion; the reptile swung his thick tail using the momentum from his hips and laid all one thousand pounds of weight into the swing directed at the defier. Whilst he was distracted, and the blow connected the defier had been thrown through one of the stone walls, and as the wall collapsed it simply crushed the young mans legs. The snap of his hip, a portion of his rib-cage, his femurs, and both shin bones

Ran'dar set to grab hold of Max by the collar of her robe, and lifted her up with a single hand. His breath had been so heavy that she would likely feel as if she stood outside on a windy trial. The sorcerer walked off to the opposite side of the collapsed wall however. Rather than allowing the suffering man to die slowly; he wanted to make the process far more interesting. Something within him compelled him to take the murder a step further. The sorcerer watched as the life started to leave his eyes, and he spoke to the weakened defier with malice. He knelt down atop the enemies right hand, and proceeded to crush it with his knees. “Your pain, your suffering, has only just begun.. You took what belonged to me. She is my property.. You.. you are simply a waste of a life. I will make your life valuable again.. I will take you... away.” The sorcerer spoke in a hushed tone, as he leaned forward almost as if to kiss the soon to be lifeless being of a man.

“No! Mercedes! You have no clue what you are going to do! You have not had your spark in a long time I take it! Your spark is hungry, and that Ether is bad... It's not good for you. It's toxic! You won't die if you take it, but you will become addicted to this.. you will become like one of them if you cannot resist those urges. This is called flaying, and if you do this you will ultimately destroy him, and craft something else entirely out of his body.. You can do this if it is your will, and I will teach you how to use the byproduct, but you are not allowed to do this more than three times in a season. Otherwise you will become a monster.. that not even I can bring back from that level of psychopathy. “ Ran'dar spoke aloud, and The sorcerer simply responded with a nod only to begin the process.

“Feel his ether as it leaves him.. Absorb it... Take it away from him.” Ran'dar instructed, and Mercedes opened his mouth only to inhale. He could visibly see the ether leaving the mouth of the man, and entering his own. As he continued a sensation overcame his body in the form of tingling; this felt absolutely incredible. This was a drug so potent that he had only just come to realize how powerful it was; foreign ether was a delicious treat to be enjoyed repeatedly.

“You are rending his soul.. Now.. In order to create something useful.. It's called a well you have to channel the ether, and store it in the heart.” Ran'dar continued to instruct as Mercedes felt like a man who tasted water for the first time. He wanted more, and continued to draw ether into the flayed body cavity and then hold it within the mans still beating heart. After several trills passed; the process had been completed.


Following the process; after having finished everything, Ran'dar approached and tore open the chest cavity. Ran'dar grasped hold of the crystalized heart, and handed it to Mercedes for future use. Surprisingly, Ran'dar seemed to want nothing to do with the object created by the sorcerer. Mercedes proceeded to take hold of it, and feel horrified. The presence of the man they just set out to slay, and destroy had been heavy alongside that of Gildres's own. He felt a pair of haunting, nonexistent eyes watch him as he carried the reddish-purple crystallized heart in his right hand.

“That is called Aberryte; it's a crystal or.. “Well” formed by your process of destroying that mans soul. It is a byproduct of flaying, and what you just did is going to create something within you.. “The Thirst” will consume you every single trial until you flay again, but if you do it a second time the urge will double, and then triple, and then if you do it a fourth time.. You will suffer a fate that not even I would put my worst enemy through.. Mercedes”

The sorcerer channeled ether through his palms again, and made an attempt to call forth fire again. The voice of flame had been so quiet; that he could hardly hear it. However, it answered the call, and a small cerulean flame came forth. In that instant; the fire in his eyes had been restored, the increased bodily temperature returned, and the ashen embers in his hair lit ablaze again. The darkness had become clear, and see through. He could no longer see the veil of darkness, but an area filled with light.
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x1 Abberyte - Initially named for Aberration, further study revealed that these grotesque wells are actually the ones created from Flaying. These wells always take the shape of the organ that was crystallized in their creation, tending toward black-red, crimson-red, or milky bone white with veins of red...however this well has been reported with all kinds of colors. These wells tend to be quite similar to Imedyte and sometimes Emetyte. Unrefined and even refined, these wells contain shreds of the victim. Often these will manifest in dreams but mages have reported that using conduits or utilizing wells of this variant have a host of unpleasant and unpredictable effects. Some report hearing voices, seeing the victim from the corner of their eye or even occasionally attacked by them (but only in illusion). Mages have reported black outs, waking and finding they had done something not within their character and others say that to use these wells in a Thrall greatly sharpens their capabilities, but at the increased risk of rebellion and the shadow of a personality. It is not clear whether the soul itself is still present in these wells, although Necromancers say that it is only the echo, a ghost of what and who the person once was. Sometimes these haunting effects can be sharpened to be utilized against ones enemies or even to ones benefit, but few would openly carry evidence of such an abominable hunger. It is known that the wells Flayed from mages are stronger than those from mortals...and supposedly the ones created from Mortalborn are more powerful still, with echoes of their divinity imprinted in the facets. (Add to Loot)
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[Slags Deep - The Beneath] Breaking Silence

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There was no opportunity to pay the defier back in kind for his stone-studded punches. After the wolf had been snatched up in the Ithecal's massive jaws, the behemoth swung his tail into the distracted man. A symphony of snapping bones echoed throughout the tunnel. Had Max not been filled with hatred and distracted by the pain of her own injuries, she might've cringed. The stone wall he landed upon moaned its protest, raining boulders down upon the defier and trapping him in place. One look and she knew he wasn't long for this world.

Her enemies slain, the Rusalka let the head of the pickaxe fall to clink against the ground. Her knees felt weak, and just before her slump turned into a collapse, she felt the scaly hand of the Ithecal yank her upright. His breath, more of a growling sigh, billowed the hair from her face. Initially she jumped at his touch. When his intentions proved to be benevolent, however, her nerves eased and murmured a "thanks" in his direction. As horrifying a sight as the murder machine was, Maxine only had eyes for Mercedes.

Her head tilted as she watched him incline his head toward that of the dying, and her perplexity only worsened when his companion voiced his warning. All the shouting about sparks and ether went right over her head. Besides the things she'd seen defiers like Mercedes or Rupturers like Sephira do, she knew nothing of mages and their magic. Her brow furrowed when her hurting head started to piece together the gist of the reptilian man's warning though. Whatever Mercedes was about to do --flaying-- it would have severe repercussions. It was a tool but a vice, and knowing the mage, he was about to engage in it anyways.

Slowly Max staggered toward him, pickaxe trailing along behind her on the ground. With uncertain eyes she witnessed Mercedes inhale the strange wisp rising from the lips of the dying mage. Her brow furrowed, and for a moment, she wasn't wholly convinced the whole series of events in the past few bits hadn't been a hallucination. The Ithecal plunged his hand into the dead defier's chest to procure what was apparently the corpse's heart. It wasn't red and full of blood. Instead it was...something else entirely.

The Rusalka remained frozen in place until blue flame manifested in the tunnel, revealing Mercedes standing just a few feet away from her. The light filled the tunnel, illuminating the bloodied and broken bodies of the dead. Blood painted the stones and slicked the earthen floor, some of it hers. Her mind clung to none of the gory images surrounding her. Instead she was possessed by the sight of ashen embers burning back to life in Mercedes' hair. The fire returned to his eyes, the witch brand that had helped her identify him in his various Becoming forms, and it was then she knew this was all real. The pickaxe slipped from her hand altogether to clatter upon the ground.

Max ran to him, careless of the fire in his palms. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her head into his chest. Pressed to him, she could feel that familiar warmth that was unique to him alone. His familiar smell filled her nostrils with her next breath. A large part of her wanted to collapse in his arms right then and there. Vulnerability threatened to give way in tears and a total reveal of the real fear that had seized her mind. Lump in her throat, she swallowed the rush of emotions down. Yet then her mind reeled back to the last moment she saw him. Her fingers curled tight against the back of his robe.

"I'm sorry," she choked out finally, rapidly. "I promised you. I promised. I told you I wouldn't let them get to you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Moisture pooled in her tightly shut eyes. That last words she'd said to him on the 65th of Ashan were that she'd never let anyone touch him. She'd said she was always with him. Instead that trial she'd left his side to ensure the outbreak of the riot. Maxine had abandoned him where he stood to selfishly hunt for cultists, starting with Elements under investigation and house arrested. She should've been by his side when the Elements and powerful citizens of Scalvoris arrived. They were always stronger together. That trial she'd failed him. Now they were both suffering here for it.
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[Slags Deep - The Beneath] Breaking Silence

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The fire had finally come back to him, and all of the cerulean mutations riddled his body again. Although Max had the misfortune of being attacked by a rogue Defier; he saw the opportunity as being golden. Had the fire not exited the mans palms, and been made to attack Mercedes he might not have gotten to speak with it again. Never before had he known that elements in the hands of weaker sorcerers could be overtaken by those more powerful. The sorcerer had been so unused to having a light source that his mutation caused him a great pain. The heat radiated from his irises with such intensity that it gave the group a slight warmth. Max abandoned the tools given to her by those on the above levels. She ran toward him almost as if she had every intention to harm him, but rather than allow himself to harm her any further; the fire dissipated a split-trill before she reached him. She embraced him and he felt the warmth of her touch around his neck. However, when he least expected it she buried her visage in his robe.

She made a mistake; everyone, and every thing made mistakes. People were bound to screw up at some point or another in their short lifespans. Mercedes had more than enough time to serve out multiple prison sentences. Unlike her, he was a sorcerer and could virtually live indefinitely without any repercussions. She was mundane, and had no choice but to make every stride possible to make her life as amazing as she possibly could. However, she was nothing but a mixed-human with a shorter lifespan than him. A sigh exited his lips, and Mercedes wanted to be angry at her for making the mistake. The sorcerer wanted to hate her for all that she had done. Yet, she stood up for him when he least expected it or so he thought. His sentence should have been far more hefty than a single arc; anyone could survive an arc. Perhaps survival would not be an easy task in the beneath, but one could out-live that sentence with ease.

Mercedes simply pushed her off of him, and continued to move forward as he could clearly see the surrounding area. This place was not one to cry in; the sounds of sobbing would echo throughout the entirety of the stony abyss. If Max wanted to be weak she needed to do so elsewhere, and preferably somewhere that death did not constantly loom over the party of three. Mercedes needed to step up, and become a “man”. Truly powerful men had no time for weakness, and harsh decisions needed to be made every other split-trill. Mercedes would be the one to remind her of that, and make her realize just what she got them both into. As he reached the size of Ran'dar and his massive heels; he looked back and spoke to Max.


“I understand that you are sorry, that you left me and made a mistake. You fucked up, and you are going to fuck up again. I would like to be the first to say that I am tired of cleaning up your fucking messes. I could have been killed there, because of you. In the past you nearly thwarted my operation to slaughter those other thieves. Had I killed you then, I would be a free man now. However, I realize that if I had killed you I would be unhappy. I love you, and nothing is going to change that, but if you continue to be unruly I will have to remove you. Weakness is not to be had here, you will not be weak, and no matter what comes you have to keep fucking moving... Promise me, Max.” The sorcerer spoke as he continued to pace forward.

word count: 644
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Max
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[Slags Deep - The Beneath] Breaking Silence

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The warmth and comfort of Mercedes' touch was gone soon after she'd sought it. He broke away from her with a shove, and she would've rather taken another rock-studded knuckle to the face than experience the emotions that now manifested with his rejection. The tears had never pooled over in her eyes, but when he turned, the pain would be clear on her face. It wouldn't last though. Maxine inhaled sharply once and strangled the feelings culminating in her chest. Her bloodied face would become nearly stoic once more in preparation for his ire.

At first his words felt like what she imagined the wolf fangs might've. If she were to be dramatic, she might've claimed she'd rather feel the clamp of those jaws than stand there and take the verbal abuse. It wasn't the curses or accusations that wounded her, but that everything he was saying was true. She knew it. Her apology alone attested to that reality. It was slow to come to the stubborn woman, but in the absence of Ambrosia and rum as escapes, she was beginning to understand the weight of what she'd done that trial. Whatever her intentions, Maxine had put lives in serious danger beyond Mercedes' and her own.

Elements and citizens alike had fallen in the streets of Scalvoris Town. She'd directed the fury of the crowd toward the council to squash thoughts of peace, thereby putting Councilors Amaris and Kura in potential peril. Faith, the woman responsible both for healing her foot and leading the city relief effort, had entered harm's way to bring an end to the violence along with Patrick.

That all paled in comparison to the moment she held her gladius to Sephira's throat. There was a very real moment when she felt prepared to draw her friend's blood. It had been fleeting, but there was no escaping the unsettling sensation of knowing it had been there even for a moment. The question remained if she would've been able to make the honest attempt at taking her life on that battlefield. Maxine hoped she'd never discover the answer. Not even for Mercedes. Then again, what terrible thing wasn't she capable of so long as they were either in his name or for his benefit?

Her brow rose when his tirade turned into the admission of those three little words. He loved her. He hated her. He was disappointed in her. He would kill her the moment she became of no more use to him...but he loved her. Something in her softened. That feeling she'd gotten for him when he'd given her the sword and stood beside him at the riot returned with vengeance. Did she love him, too? Was she capable of such a thing? Maxine walked over to lift her pickaxe off the floor. She slung it up so the shaft rested on her shoulder, and as her gaze moved to rest on his, she felt her heart harden. Just the way he wanted it to.

"I promise," the Rusalka forged the new covenant firmly. It had been an easy promise to make. It had been the very same one she'd made to herself, in essence. Now that Mercedes was down in this abyss with her, everything had changed. She wasn't just fighting for her own survival. It would no longer just be her life in harm's way when danger came knocking. Once more she had something--someone--to lose. She would not lose him again. She'd sacrifice and become whatever monster she needed to be down here if he commanded it. This hole would not become his grave. He would see the trial he walked out those doors a free man. "And this is a promise I will not break."
word count: 647
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[Slags Deep - The Beneath] Breaking Silence

Maxine

Overview

Thank you so much for your patience with this review. You write Maxine beautifully, there is a real depth to the pc. Whilst you have been awarded the points and knowledge here, since Mercedes decided not to amend his posts, then the event which happened here can not be taken as canon and did not, in fact, occur.

Points

XP: 15 (not for magic)

Renown: None

Loot

None

Knowledge

Detection: Fighting in the Dark is Hard
Detection: Attempting to Predict Where the Punch Is Going
Discipline: Restraining Yourself From Action as Long as You Can
Discipline: Getting Back Up for More
Endurance: Getting Battered and Bloodied
Endurance: Forcing Yourself Back to Your Feet
Strength: Swinging a Pickaxe
Strength: Putting All Your Power Into an Attack
Strength: Holding an Enemy Back
word count: 131
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~~Red in hoof and claw... ~~


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