• Open • Something Wicked This Way Comes

[Tio Silver]

Desnid: The Border of the Badlands
90th Vhalar, 719

"Pitch a row of tents over by that bramble! Families with children or elderly get the first claim on shelter! Hurry now, we don't have all night."

There was almost something endearing about watching the exiled Avriel come together as a community. Their species was infamous for its feral cruelty and treatment of slaves, and yet any who watched the featherless outcasts now, sharing what limited resources they had and working hard to built their campsite with their own hands, would not see a trace of the stereotype they were known for. It was as if their exodus, the suffering they had endured to get here, had forced them to grow out of the limited worldview Athart had raised them to believe in. That was not so say that they had all become perfect and humble; many of them no doubt still clung proudly to the stale beliefs of their homeland, but they had all made the difficult first few steps to becoming better people. Given time there was a very real chance that the modest campsite they were building here could one day grow into a richer and greater city than Athart had ever been: a fresh new start for the Avriel.

Such a shame he was going to taint this humble beginning with fear.

Floating high above the campsite, cloaked from the settler's sight by distance and the dark of night, Tio watched the featherless Avriel work. With a bird's-eye view he could see the entire layout of their fledging enclave, and his tactical mind ran through a thousand different scenarios of how best to attack it. It was defenceless, so lacking in any and all fortifications that raiding it would be almost unfairly easy. It was like a bandit picking a fight with a newborn baby. Sure there were a few guards here and there, but there hadn't been the time yet to organise any patrols, set up barricades, or even explore the surrounding area. These people were sitting ducks, and that was exactly why Tio had chosen them.

He'd fled to Desnid immediately after flaying his old master back in Yaralon, fleeing into Emea and wandering aimlessly for a while until stumbling across an opening into the wild forests surrounding the city. At first he'd thought to approach the native Sev'ryn, but soon thought better of it. He'd locked himself onto the path of magic now, prepared himself to cross any line in order to reach the apex of unity with his sparks, and to reach that goal would soon need to surrender to the urge to flay again. His only options were to hunt the Sev'ryn and devour their souls, and to do that he needed to capture them alive. Besides their bodies would be useful for his Graft experiments while they were still alive, and his Necromancy experiments afterwards. A part of him felt sick to think of them as nothing more than resources to be harvested, but he squashed those treacherous thoughts down ruthlessly. If he was to begin preying upon other living souls it was better that he remain an unknown factor to the people of Desnid; an elusive shadow they could not prepare themselves against. But Desnid was well guarded and its people alert from lifetimes of living in tune with nature. There had been no opportunities for him to capture any of them without revealing himself.

And then fate had delivered a chance right to his feet. An exodus of featherless Avriel had arrived at the city seeking refuge, all of them weakened by sickness and the long journey. Their senses well dull from arcs of being attended to by slaves, and tension between them and the locals provided a convenient explanation for why one of two of them mysteriously went missing. A few excursions with spy thralls had revealed that the Elders were planning to allow the Avriel to buy the undesirable land bordering the Badlands and create their own settlement there. Tio had immediately realised that if he was smart about this, if he didn't get greedy and take too many people too quickly, this Avriel settlement could be the perfect farm. With his thralls he could conduct small raids every cycle or so, snatching a few victims from the vulnerable settlement and dragging them away into the Badlands where none would dare to follow. It would be arcs before the Avriel became acclimatised to their new environment or would be capable of building defences strong enough to keep him out. By then he would have either reached the pinnacle of magic or succeeded in his other plan.

Deciding that he'd seen enough, Tio hovered down from the sky into the border of the Badlands below. The stench of sickness and the feverish humidity that lingered in the air was repelled by the cloak of cool air that covered him at all times, protecting him from the discomfort of living in such a place, yet even so Tio chose to hover a few feet away from the floor. He never touched anything around here to reduce his chances of catching an illness. Reaching inside of his own soul, Tio connected with his Defiance spark and fed it his ether, feeling its power flow through his veins in return. He turned that power onto the ground beneath him, connecting to the earth and hearing its voice. It was deep and mellow, but with the breathy rasp of the unwell.

"I have need of servants. 'O earth, my stalwart friend, where might I find the bones of life departed?" He asked solemnly.

The spark within his chest began to pull him in a certain direction like a compass, and Tio followed its pull. A short journey later Tio arrived at an empty den by the side of a dried out river, a place that'd been corrupted recently by the Badland's inexplicable expansion. Many animals had died in their sleep when the Badlands washed over them without warning, and his spark now told him that the bones of a pack of hyenas that'd lived here before the corruption spread slumbered just beneath the dirt. They would suit his purposes nicely for this first raid. Cutting his connection to his Defiance spark, Tio gathered a much larger stream of ether and sent it to his Necromancy spark, feeling the sinister chill of its presence bloom within his heart.

"Arise my soldiers." He commanded, extending a hand out to the ground. The dirt began to tremble, and like white flowers the claws of the skeletal pack sprouted from the ground, dragging the rest of their wasted bodies out from the ground. With guttural snarls a pack of seven hyena marrows assembled before him.



"Time to get to work boys." He ordered grimly, leading the pack towards the flickering lights of the Avriel campfires in the distance.

[Rakvald]

Rakvald had decided to stay among the avriel after meeting a few of them. They seemed like good people. A bit tense and wild and aggitated, but that was to be expected, having their feathers plucked out and left to exile in a strange land. Now, to compound the cruelty of their situation, the authorities of Desnind had banished them to the Badlands, the bulk of them guarded by only a token force of fliers.

Rakvald sought to accompany them, to attempt to protect them against any of the dangers that may lie beyond. He wanted also to go to Quacia at some point, and the badlands stood in the way of that. SO it was a mutually agreeable opportunity to set out with a company, on the way to where he was going.

He now sat by the fire, cooking up some bacon (not his pigs' bacon) and sharing it with the rest of his company.

"Sir... I thought I heard a dog growling!?" Said the young avriel next to him. His wild eyes darting this way and that. Rakvald put a hand on his shoulder, and then stood up to his full height, bringing his kukri out of its sheath so he could guard the child.

"Show me where these dogs be." He said in Xanthean, which was the only language he knew he shared with the avriel, many of them having had Sev'ryn slaves when they were in Desnind. Rakvald didn't hold their past against them. But by the ancestors, he would ensure they had a future!

So he followed the boy to where he'd heard that terrible growling, handing his good luck stuffed bear to the child, and bidding him to stay well away, behind the lines of the warriors that were gathering up.

Whoever thought they'd be surprised by an attack and undefended, hadn't reckoned with meeting an angry, Lotharen grafter and mage.

He traced runes of strength, with his ether around his sword arm, and readied himself to deal with any foul beasts or evil bandits.

[Tio Silver]

Bones clicked and scraped against each other as the pack prowled closer to the campsite, lips drawn back into hungry snarls as the scent of life grew stronger. Sensing his thralls beginning to pull at the magical leashes he had around them, Tio hovered up into the air and took his place hidden amidst the thick canopy. Omnivision allowed him to observe the campsite without putting himself in the settler's line of sight, so he wouldn't have to worry about being spotted and attacked. It was standard tactics when fighting undead to target the necromancer controlling them after all.

He split one of the hyenas off from the group and had it loop around to the east side of the campsite. Once the rest were in position to go at the west side the hyena began to growl and snarl like a dog, drawing the attention of the settlers away from the direction his main force were ready to come from. It was a nice simple distraction, but not one that anybody would expect a pack of wild canines to be capable of. As predicted the soldiers gathered together at wrong side, expecting the attack to come from the east, while the civilians huddled together at the west end: right where his main force were waiting.

"Three… Two…" Tio breathed to himself, counting down to the moment to strike. Just as his mouth began to form a one however his Omnivision detected a flash of power, and Tio froze. What was that? A magician? He focused in on the signature, alighting on the frequency of one of the many soldiers gathered amongst the Avriel guards.

Oddly enough the stranger was not an Avriel; their frequency was that of a Lotharro. The power that had caught his attention was a rune of some kind they'd drawn upon themself, though Tio had not idea what it did. The presence of a Hone spark was not the only impurity within the stranger's soul however: there was a Graft spark that roared with might and a Becoming spark that, while smaller, should still not be underestimated. What was this magician doing among the Avriel? Damn it, this put quite a big hole in his plan. This wannabe hero would be able to take down any lone thrall fairly quickly, and could at least stall all of them together long enough for the Avriel to rally. He needed to remove them from the equation. But how?

A new plan popped into his head, and with a quick gesture two more hyenas broke off from the main force and crept over to a third direction. Now four hyenas were ready to attack from the west, where he was hiding, two from the south, and the distraction from the east.

The east hyena switched from mimicking dog barking to calling out in the hyenas signature laugh. It was a creepy sound at the best of times, but during the dead of night and with anticipation already running so high Tio was sure the Avriel would find it downright terrifying.

While all focus was on the distraction the two hyenas from the south suddenly burst out of the clearing and charged directly at the nearest Avriel: an unfortunate unfeathered civilian who just barely noticed them coming in time to scream before the two hyenas pounced on his wings and bit deep down, knocking him to the ground. The surrounding civilians screamed in panic and scurried away in all directions as the two hyenas turned back and swiftly dragged the Avriel away by his bare wings, snatching him away into the darkness of the surrounding trees.

"Go on hero. Go save the innocent civilian." Tio muttered to himself, watching the frequency of the Lotharro intently. No matter how strong they were they couldn't be in two places at once, and once he chased after the captive the rest of the camp would be unprotected from his main assault.

[Rakvald]

Battle Theme

Rakvald was no genius or scholar. What he knew of arcana, he only understood firsthand, his own magics he could understand. Things of the flesh and the living. Yet he'd spent several generations in Quacia, at least, and knew necromancy when he smelled it. The fetid corruption of dead animals on the air. It may have just been the wolves' quarry that had fallen and left to rot, but he thought something else might be going on.

Rakvald didn't know much, but what he did know, the ways of animals, of living things and the flesh and hunger. He knew the way the herd moved, the way animals, when set upon by all sides, would rally and fight like cornered wildcats. Even pigs, especially pigs. Perhaps avriel as well...

He also knew the ways of wolves, of predation from his generations of herding animals. And while animal training and herdsmanship was no replacement for the leadership and coordination of sapient beings, Rakvald felt himself rising to this challenge. He would not let these dogs to his flok!

So, touching his throat, his neck, he summoned a rune of strength, to make his voice stronger, and with all his might, proclaimed for all the avriel and perhaps whatever alpha was leading these dogs, his challenge! "Together, wings! Friends, together!" he shouted in broken Xanthean. "Wolves attack strays, be together, and we beat them!"

That said, a few of the fliers among the avriel were rallied, and threw off their linen wing valances, and took to the skies, to scout out the positions of those dogs. They didn't carry much in the way of weapons, apart from some sticks and stones. But the rocks would do damage if dropped on ranks of enemies.

The winged avriel flew together, as Rakvald bid, and maintained air superiority, waiting for the enemies to show themselves again. Then, only then, would they swoop in or drop their missiles.

Rakvald held his kukri tight, as he glowered at the darkness, to whence the civilian had been dragged. The unfeathered avriel around him gathered behind the big Lotharro, as he held his blade aloft. Meanwhile, they picked up sticks of varying quality and durability. A few threw stones into the darkness to try and provoke those wolves into making another move.

"In circle! Get in circle, guard flank!"

The next time those wolves showed their snouts through the darkness, and tried to poach another avriel, he'd be ready. They'd all be ready. And if they weren't, to hell with everyone.

[Tio Silver]

A frown furrowed Tio's brow as his thralls dragged the unfortunate Avriel away, yet the Lotharro mage refused to give chase. Instead he rallied the Avriel in a circle, removing any blind spots for his thralls to launch sneak attacks from, and had the feathered Avriel take to the sky to seize air superiority. It was a good move: making use of his forces numerical advantage to nullify the thralls stealth and speed. That being said it had come at the cost of loosing that first victim for good. The sounds of that Avriel's screams slowly faded as he disappeared deeper into the badlands, the hyaenas dragging him away from the campsite. In the dark and with their unfamiliarity with the terrain the Avriel would never be able to catch up.

What to do now? Quit while he was ahead? No, one prisoner was not enough for his purposes, and in the end his thralls were entirely expendable so sacrificing them all on a high-risk gamble was acceptable. The question was how to break the settlers defensive formation. At first Tio thought of simply waiting them out; after all undead didn't need to eat, whereas the living did. He could simply starve them out. But if he dragged the assault out for that length of time there was a chance the Sev'ryn might be alerted as to what was happening, and they were more than capable of launching a counter-attack against him; these forests were their home ground after all. No, he needed a more immediate solution. They were only strong together, so he needed to divide them.

The answer came to him in a flash of inspiration. It was that wannabe hero who was rallying them, the pin keeping everyone united. With him gone they would break back into disorder again, not to mention would be weaker against his next raid. All he had to do was take him out.

At a silent command the hyaenas laughter ceased, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. As silently as they could the five remaining thralls prowled around the edge of the campsite, reforming into a single unit directly in the shadows that Rakvald was facing. As one they raised their hackles and dug their claws into the earth, preparing to charge. Tio reached down further into his soul and called upon his Defiance spark, feeding it a sizeable chunk of ether and feeling it flare to life in response. He channelled its power towards the campfires scattered about the campsite, the only sources of illumination against the dark besides the pale light of the moon.

"Lights out." He whispered, clicking his fingers. In an instant the flames snapped out, suddenly plunging the campsite into darkness.

The hyaenas charged forwards, taking advantage of the sudden confusion as everyone's eyes struggled to adjust to the harsh change in lighting. It would only take a trill or two for the Avriel's keen eyes to adjust, but that couple of trills was enough for the hyaenas to cover a serious amount of ground without being harassed by the flying Avriel. In unison they lunged at Rakvald; two at his legs, two his forearms, and one at his neck, with fangs bared.

[Rakvald]

Suddenly everything was dark, and Rakvald saw nothing. But he could hear the hyenas approaching, could hear their false snarls and smell their fetid corruption. He had his large kukri out, ready to ward against any attacks at his neck. He'd likely absorb a lot of the aggression, but he was willing to fight and stand his ground.

The first hyena was one that latched onto his left arm, this one he ignored, and let it have its pound of flesh, attaching itself by the jaw to his left forearm. Next, two buried their fangs in his shins, eliciting pain, but Rakvald used his graft magics to numb the pain as their rotted teeth tore and rended the flesh and muscle there. When the next hyena sprunt to attack Rakvald's swordarm, he swiped at it with his kukri, managing to either ward it off or hurt it seriously.

Last, came the final hyena, this one lunging for his throat. His sword having been spent in the effort to ward off the other hyena, he was unguarded against this attack, and took the teeth to the carotid artery.

"AH!" Rakvald shouted, angry and full of pain and despair. "GET WORD TO DESNIND BOY!" He said, calling to the young boy bearing his good luck stuffed bear. "FLY!"

He could feel the warm blood pouring out of his artery as he lost his voice again.

In a few moments, his graft magics would be useless. Rakvald would be dead, once and for all.

[Tio Silver]

Rakvald's kukri slashed deep into the hyena's head, carving a huge chunk of the thrall's cheek and half of its jaw off in a single swing. The hyena itself was knocked back by the blow, stunned by the damage to the head, and was soon pelted with a hail of rocks from the Avriel above as their eyes finished adjusting to the night. Two of the rocks scored lucky hits against the hyena's head, the first cracking it open, and the second splitting it apart like an egg. The rest of the body slumped to the ground, too damaged to maintain itself even as an undead.

The rest of the thralls however were able to score deep, bloody wounds across Rakvald's body, tearing out huge hunks of flesh from his arm, legs and neck. Pure crimson leaked from the wounds in a gruesome torrent, a stream of such quantity that it would spell certain death for a normal man. But this Lotharro was not a normal man, he had the Graft spark in his soul, and Tio knew that if given the opportunity he would be able to regenerate quickly enough to save his life.

It had to be said that the Lotharro spent some of his last few breaths heroically: he shouted for one of the Avriel to fly to Desnid for help, and whether he knew it or not that was the best possible move he could have made. Tio had no more thralls left in reserve to chase down the messenger, and the Sev'ryn were the only ones capable of tracking him through the Badlands. Essentially he had been given a short time in which to retreat or else risk getting captured; time that he could not afford to waste trying to capture other targets. He had no choice but to cut his losses and run, thus sparing the other Avriel's lives for another day.

But that didn't mean Tio couldn't scrape out a profit from this failure.

The remaining hyenas bit down deep into Rakvald's arms and legs again, dragging him away across the dirt into the Badlands with a trail of red in his wake. The Avriel cried out in shock for the man who had, even if just for a moment, been their saviour, and a few even gave chase, but none could catch up to them in time. With not so much as a cry of protest Rakvald disappeared into the darkness of the trees.



Moonlight fell unbroken upon a clearing in the Badlands not too far away from the Avriel enclave, shining upon a single rock that had been worn away by years of rainfall into a smooth, uneven altar. The chill of the nighttime air swirled around the clearing in gentle waves, bringing the unnatural sense of peace of a world frozen in absolute stillness. It was this clearing that the hyenas dragged Rakvald into, yanking him up onto the altar with their fangs searing painfully into his skin. Each of the four kept a limb pinned down against the altar with their body weight, yet none of them made any further moves to attack him.

"Don't you want to live?"

From out of the shadows clinging to the canopy Tio emerged, floating down to the altar like a wraith. He touched down by the side of the stone and began pacing around Rakvald in a circle, looking at him with a curious expression behind his mask.

"You did well, saving those mortals. But what's the point?" He spoke slowly. "What's the point of any of it? Their lives are short, meaningless. What could they hope to achieve in a hundred years on their own? People like you and I have the potential to surpass the boundary between life and death, and when we do we'll be able to achieve so much more than a thousand of them would in their meagre lives. Why not sacrifice ten, even a hundred of them, to reach the peak of our potential? It'll all be worth it in the end."

He stopped pacing and leaned in closer to Rakvald's face. "We don't have to be enemies you know. I could save your life. I have the Graft spark too. And with a few of those Avriel we could become so much more than ordinary mages will ever be. What do you say Lotharro? Why not join me?"

[Rakvald]

The task done, the child survived. The good luck bear would see him through life. Rakvald had faith in that. Yet where it'd spared the young one, it'd forced him into the front, into impossible danger. His final thoughts went with the child, and then to Zarik, and finally to his pigs. He knew the Order of Adunih would take good care of his garden and farm in his death.

He wondered for a moment about the others he knew. Of Silaqui, Cirrina, Zarik and the others. He didn't want to leave Desnind unprotected, but such was his fate. The Sevryn knew how to take care of their own lands. They wouldn't miss one large Lotharro all that much.

So this was it. Having sacrificed his Immortality, and bargained for the return of his voice upon the Dreamscape repair, he would not be reborn. Having lived for centuries on end, an unbroken chain of lineage, he would die in this dusty, no man's land. To disappear and leave himself to the mercy of a strange mage, who would leave nothing of him behind.

"I want to live." Rakvald blubbered, his throat having healed some since their flight from the camp. Graft was a potent magic. In a few bits, he'd have healed his wounds. Yet he knew it was hopeless against the superior mage, whoever it was.

"So yes, I will join you. Show me true power, mage!" He shouted for Tio to hear him, over his mangled throat. As he did so, he began knitting the flesh with his graft magics. He would live, and serve this new rising power.

[Tio Silver]

A wry smile curled on Tio's lips behind his mask as Rakvald chose to live in exchange for service. Good, it seemed this Lotharo was smart enough to recognise how pointless it would be to die over such an unworthy cause. Recruiting this mage was the best outcome for he could have asked for as well, for now all those sparks that'd protected the Avriel could be turned against them rather than wasted.

"I thought you'd see things my way." He chuckled, leaning back away from Rakvald's face and resuming his pacing. "Those Avriel were more than happy to turn a blind eye to the discrimination their society thrust upon those they'd enslaved when it served them. But the moment they lost their feathers and that same discrimination was turned on them they suddenly grew consciences. Their changes of heart are fueled only by their own self interest. People like them will come and go. They'll serve a greater purpose through us."

He reached over to grasp Rakvald's right bicep, and the Lotharo would feel a rush of something cool spread over his skin. When Tio removed his hand his dreamwalking brand, a small star glowing faintly with silver light, was marked across Rakvald's skin.

"Consider this a... let's call it my blessing, shall we?" Tio continued. "From now on I'll be able to find you wherever you go. You can't hide from me, not even in your dreams. Now then, let's do something about those wounds shall we?"

Conscious of the fact that he was starting to push his ether a bit too far, Tio called upon his Graft spark and focused on the feeling of life energy swirling around Rakvald's body. Rak was already healing the worst of his wounds, and Tio leant his strength towards helping that healing along.

"Now then, the way I see it you owe me quite a few Avriel. Fortunately you happen to be in the perfect position to repay what you owe. They trust you." His hyenas came to prowl by his side as Tio began to walk away, back into the treeline of the Badlands. "Return to the campsite. Rally ten of their strongest warriors: ones that are healthy and feathered. Tell them you're taking them on the trail of the Avriel I took earlier in order to save him, and lead them into the Badlands. The trail will lead you to a swampy area, at which point together we will ambush them. Remember that I want them all alive; there is to be no killing. Good luck."

[Rakvald]

Rakvald was relieved that he wouldn’t be turned into a pile of soul mush, as the mage flayed the ether from his very soul. He heaved a sigh of relief, knowing that he’d live to fight and play another day. He nodded at the strange mage’s rationale for hunting this avriel. “True, I guess…” He personally believed in giving the benefit of the doubt, but ultimately the mage probably had the right of it. But did that mean they deserved to get chopped up and harvested?

Meh. Another day, another head to bash in.

Rakvald rose from the altar, alive again, and his wounds sealing from the power of his own graft spark. He noted that the strange mage wasn’t the most powerful in his own magic. Yet that didn’t mean he didn’t have potential. Perhaps Rakvald could give him some pointers? Or they could swap shop. Working with others had its merits, he had to say.

Then the mage slapped a small star on Rakvald’s arm, the Lotharro roared in alarm, “Woah! What the…”

“A blessing… Alright. No hiding from you got it chief.” Rakvald lifted a brow at the mage, “By the way, I oughta know your name, or should I just call you boss, Chief?”

Whatever the case, Rakvald now knew what he needed to do. He was to be a butcher again, carving up flesh for the harvest. Well, he knew well enough how to do that. He slinked off into the path from whence they’d come. Within a break or so, he spotted the campfires of the avriel. Rakvald stretched, shaking the nerves out of his body. Okay, he could do this! He’d led animals to the slaughter before, this wasn’t all that different, was it? While he may not be the most persuasive, he could keep a steely mien.

He approached the camp, feigning a hobbling gait. He looked around quickly and didn’t see the boy or his bear there. Good. Let him go to Desnind, where it was safe, and stay there. While Rakvald was utterly earnest in his willingness to aid Tio in exchange for the leavings of whatever power he harvested, he rather liked that kid.

“Hey, uh…”

“It’s our savior! Welcome back, have you slain the foul creature that attacked us?!”

“Uh… No.” Rakvald opted for truth, not confident in his ability to lie. “He’s still out there, In the swamp, I think. We’ll need some strong fighters to catch him and save your friend! Who among you are able?”

Several of the strongest stepped forward, but not all of them. They wouldn’t leave the camp completely unguarded. “Right then… uh… Let’s go? Follow me, troops! Let’s save that one you guys lost, eh?”

So saying, Rakvald hit the trail, headed for where Tio told him to go. A sinking feeling was in his gut, this sort of treachery was not his way.