RP:Let the Bodies Hit the Floor

This is a Mage's Guild RP.

Summary: The disguised Lanlan and Apprentice Enelys Ruza are pulled from their dreams in the Mage's Tower into the fray of an ambush taking place in Xalious. In an effort to get away, they allow themselves to be led by an operative calling them Xalious' chosen ones. Elhaym, neither a mage nor an apprentice, has been mixed up in the mass kidnapping of mages and questions everything she knows. Lanlan knows he cannot act alone, and enlists in the aid of Veneficus D'Chath and Arcane Stewardess Tsuji to help rescue the prisoners.

Somewhere in the Mage’s Guild

It's late, almost midnight, and you're asleep. Maybe you're in your dormitory, or maybe in your room above the Dancing Destrier. Your dreams, however good or bad, mundane or fantastic, are suddenly intruded upon by a voice. It's booming, commanding, and personifies a central figure in your dreams. "Apprentice," calls the voice, and you it's talking to you. "Apprentice, you're needed. Xalious, the grandest mage of all, has a message for you. As his herald, it is mine to deliver." As Xalious's Herald commands more attention, the less important aspects of your dream fall away, and you are shown to a hill under the stars, where a group of hooded apprentices like yourself stand in a circle. "The final stage of your initiation is tonight! Your destiny as one of Xalious's chosen begins. Now wake up!" Along with a pile of other apprentices, you awaken with a sense of purpose. Outside your room, a will-o-wisp levitates and bobs in the air. "I will show you the way," says the will-o-wisp in the same voice as your dream.

In Lanlan's dream, Xalious's herald appears, taking over a pair of pants. Lanlan's pants. They're flying away form him, and he has to fly in order to keep up. Normally, he'd control every aspect of his dream lucidly, wielding God-power in the imaginary realm. But recent and compounding stresses cause him to lose himself in this place. And his pants. He soars after the talking pantsd until they take him to the spot on the hill, where they reveal that he has a destiny. He puts his pants on and wakes up. Along with many other apprentices, he decides to follow the Will-o-Wisp, as it takes him South, toward the Xalious tree.

The Xalious Tree, During The Undead Seige

Lanlan was chasing around his pants when they started talking to him. They had an otherworldly and authoritative voice, and the pants claimed they were 'Xalious's Herald'. They had a message for him, from Xalious himself, and they needed him to wake up. Yes, it was a dream. Upon awaking, he found that many other apprentices faced a similar intrusion, and that they too had a destiny which they were about to discover. It was implied that this was all part of advancement in the Mage's Guild. Lanlan obviously knew that wasn't true, but was intrigued nontheless. A will-o-wisp appeared outside of the apprentices' dormitory and beckoned them. "Follow the light of Xalious," it said. And the apprentices did. A crowd of them, following a strange floating ball of light, arrive at the Xalious Tree at the same time.

Enelys floated down through the air with one hand attached to a wooden pole around which hovered several metal hoops. She follows the witch-light of her dream, bare feet crossing cool and damp soil, clad in only under garments. “Okay Mister Mustache, I accept this mission. I’m the greatest, you’ll see... willington village...” she muttered with a lack of usual flair. Even her hair lays limply down her head while she treks along with the other apprentices. “Grandpa Sandwich will be proud. My stick is better than bacon.” One day she might be very embarrassed to look back and see these things, but everyone else is probably just glad she’s not talking half as much as she usually would.

Lanlan finds it pretty difficult to read the expressions of a ball of light, but the way the thing bobbed hesitantly when it saw the crowd of Delisha worshippers emerge from the forest reminds him for a moment of fear. "A-A-Apprentices! Behold, your trial! These heathens are the scourge Xalious warned about. Defend yourselves, defend Xalious!" Then a quartet of giant abominations emerge and appear to designate the apprentices as their quarry. "At least I'm only two-faced," says Lanlan as he nonchalantly moves to the back of his crowd of apprentices. As they get closer, they get scarier, and many of the green, newby apprentices freeze. Luckily, Lanlan has some experience leading a crowd. "Apprentices! Hold your ground! Ready your firebolts!" Many of them didn't expect humble Doziros to command them, but they didn't have enough wits to argue. "I don't know how to do a fire bolt," one complains, "Can I do magic missile?" They had time enough for one volley before the hulks would be upon them. Lanlan waved his fingers, and one of the nasty amalgamations was lit up in glittery light, outlining the forerunner as the main target. "Shoot!" Lanlan shouted, and a massive volley of magic projectiles slammed into it, halting its movement and bringing it to a knee. Many eyes strewn all over its body shut forever. Meanwhile, a group of apprentices looking -exactly- like the one Lanlan was with, detached from the group and charged straight toward the four fatties. They were made of pure imagination, but they were quick! As quick as Lanlan could think. They bobbed and weaved, ducked and dodged, dipped and dove, anything to throw a wrench at Leralynn's plans of assault. Always getting close enough to them to tempt an attack, then sliding out of harm's way just in time.

Enelys is generally confused. “What?” As in, what was that sound? “What?!” As in, what am I doing here? “WHAT in MAGICS NAME is THAT?!” As in, are those zombies, and if so, why do they resemble the gum that would be stuck under a desk in a particularly gooey realm of torture? Enelys is woken up more by the Crack of Lightning and the Boom of Thunder, her hair instantly floating up with static as her eyes flutter wide. Several expletives are quickly loosened at the situation until she gathers relative control of her faculties. Holding her boom-stick, Enelys calls down the electricity and wields it forward on the metal rings surrounding her staff/broom/pole like a giant sparkly mace. Unbeknownst to herself, she is still screaming as things begin to collide, explode, and shatter all around her. Far too loud to hear commands. She swings her lightning rod-whacking stick at anything and everything that dares get too close to her. Just before this a vision of a man with rolls of sweet loaf for a wrinkly head and a sandwich mustache had spoken to her. Now it was time to battle the undead. What a strange dream this surely was.

Lanlan quickly finds that the massive horde of zombies has surrounded them. And who are they? A bunch of apprentices, villagers, and...drow soldiers? "Who's leading them..." he mutters as he attempts to discern the commander through the melee. A bloodcurdling scream calls his attention back to the matter at hand, as mere feet from him,a sloppy behemoth's long gangly arm hammers down over a row of apprentices. Tar and hands and bodies spread over the unfortunate souls and over the grass, before the entire goopy limb is lifted back off the ground with a sucking smack. Already, the frozen faces of about six apprentices, all worth much much more than Hans, join the ranks of those many nameless wretches in the tar monster's body. Lanlan will have to scout later. "Hit em from behind!" Lanlan says to one of the apprentices as Bob the Behemoth draws back his long arm. "Here!" A spot on Bob the Behemoth's head glows brightly with faeirie fire, and a particularly confident apprentice spins one hand around the other, and shoves his arm forward and up. A massive spire of earth bursts through the ground, arcs up, and smacks Bob the Behemoth in the back of the head. An extremely skillful maneuver Lanlan notes, one that an apprentice shouldn't have been able to do. Lanlan uses his magic to disguise Bob's friend, Mark the Monstrosity, as a rock monster. Now Bob thinks Mark whacked him! What does Bob do? Bob bops Mark, marking Mark with a giant goopy fist. Do you think Mark is about to tolerate this? Mark isn't. It makes it much easier for Orion to harass either one of them, when they have much bigger problems to deal with. By now Lanlan's other distraction, a group of illusive apprentices harrassing the other two monstrosities, has been realized for what it was. "We need to slow them down. Apprentices! Soak them! Drench them in water. NOW!" A few of them begin channeling what little they know of hydromancy into a single cohesive balloon of water. A massive sphere of water raises above the monsters' heads, almost looming over both. It falls early. A blast of sticky tar and...disembodied heads is sprayed into them before they could complete their task. Luckily, Lanlan was able to shield himself behind another apprentice who was headbutted several times by several different people. "You three!" Lanlan comands from behind his meatshield, "Freeze them in place!" Soon after, the other apprentices whip up a frigid wind that blows against them. "Now, THUNDER!" In the seconds it takes for the creatures to slow to a freezing stop, another group led by Enelys ready a giant magic missile. Enelys supplies the ammunition, a trio of shotputs. The trio of mages levitate the trio of iron balls, while Lanlan illuminates the target with more faerie fire. All of the apprentices line up and throw their arms forward like they were throwing baseballs, propelling the missile faster. In the blink of an eye, a sonic boom blasts the iron balls into the frozen abomination. The gluey tar, now cold and brittle, breaks. Its gangly limbs fall to the ground while its body rolls away behind it. One behemoth fell, two were being distracted, and one was roaming free, mollywhopping apprentices left and right. "We need a way out," Lanlan said mostly to himself.

Enelys had quite enough of this. These were no conditions for apprentices to be out fighting in their underwear. The little light bobbles had gathered around whispering non stop about the man of her dreams and fulfilling her destiny and Enelys was frankly getting tired of them too. She approached the other apprentices, dodging and sprinting across the battlefield (those exercise regimens really had paid off!) and held up a cloak stained with blood that definitely didn’t fit her but blended in under an illusion regardless. “Listen to me!” She cried out over the din of war, “we have to retreat! They’re too ugly- I mean too many! We need to clear a trench and save our behinds!” Plus those damn fairy lights were dancing and shouting “listen!” like a bonfire sign. “We can use the storm as cover! Half of us draw in the clouds and moisture down low, the other half call down the lightning. It’ll have to be short, steady, and swift. This way!” Enelys points with her rod, beginning to call the storm down from the sky with the others. A trench it would appear to be, two banks of rolling fog charged with heavy static and lightning on either side, their own miniature storm-on-rails. It would take some leapfrogging and staggered steps, but the remaining mage guilds apprentices would make it out okay, wherever they were headed.

Lanlan and the diminished group of apprentices use Enelys's manipulation of the storm to navigate away from the fight at the Xalious tree, at which point the will-o-wisp takes over. "Hey! Listen! We need to go to the old shrine to the North East!" By this point, Lanlan knows that his dreams were intruded upon, and that he was lied to. This thing -implied- that the next step to being accepted in the Mage's guild involved some kind of ritual. That was simply not true, Lanlan knew it. He went through it. There was no kind of initiation. Still, he followed the weird ball of light. It led them to the Shrine of Coreliant, an all but forgotten demigod. Arranged in a giant ring were dozens of ritual circles of ancient, forgotten runes. "We don't have any more time! Xalious has instructed me that you've all endured enough, you're ready to accept a portion of his power! Everybody stand on a circle to accept his magical gift. Then you'll be strong enough to return to the fight." Lanlan was skeptical, and held Enelys by the wrist. "The benefit of these magical secrets cannot be overstated! Come! Come!"

Shrine to Coreliant

Enelys had a bit of a headache at this point. She had been rather rudely awoken and then forced to fight dangerous disgusting beasts and under this stolen robe she was now in very chilled skivvies. “What? Potion of his power? Wait...” this seemed uh, sketchy. Enelys was skeptical but her head was screaming. Was someone holding onto her? “What is going on?” Were those things really to be trusted?

Lanlan watched as many of the apprentices took their spot on the circle. As they did, the circles glowed. The bobbing ball of light floated over to Enelys and Lanan. "Yes. Through this timeless ritual, the Mage's Guild has access to Lord Xalious's power. This is the first step toward becoming a truly powerful mage. Next, when you've proven you can handle this awesome power, you'll be given a staff crafted from the branch of the Xalious tree." The deep, booming voice echoes in the empty church. "Surely you are familiar with these Xalious-Wood staves. Are you so new that you haven't even seen one of these?" Silently, Lanlan debated with himself. He knew this wasn't a time-honored tradition, but he couldn't reveal this knowledge without also revealing that he was a fraud. Reluctantly he lets go of Enelys's hand and casts a displacement spell. He turns invisible, while a false copy walks forward and stands among his peers in the ring. All the other mages face the center and close their eyes. The will-o-wisp bobs. "I understand your reluctance, young one. We commend hard work. Power should not be so easily given. And I assure you, it isn't. You were chosen. You can trust in Lord Xalious."

Enelys licked her lips unconsciously. The truth was becoming clear but that didn’t stop her. She walked into the circle willingly, knowing there was no ancient ritual, there would likely be no staffs, and someone was certainly going to die here. But it wouldn’t be her. She was stronger than that. She hungered for power, thirsted for it, ravenous and burning. If any of the other apprentices should be lost... well, there was always a price for power, was there not? She wasn’t killing them. She was merely an innocent bystander. When the puppet masters showed themselves and saw her still standing and ready, she would force them to accept her and grant her the promised power. Enelys would be the greatest, phony ritual or not. As far as she was concerned, she already was.

Almost as soon as Enelys walks into the circle, her limbs would start to lock up. The circles were clearly some kind of paralysis trap. All but two of the other apprentices around him appear to have already succumbed, essentially frozen in place. Two open their eyes slowly and step off their fake circles, and meet with the will-o-wisp at a particular spot on the East wall. The light of the will-o-wisp gradually dims and shrinks, until it's gone. A tiny humanoid fluttering about with dragonfly wings is all that remains. The truth of Xalious's Herald: A pixie illusionist. On the wall where they gather, several columns of runes appear in a matrix as tall as a person and as wide as three. They look on it, cast some spells. The matrix changes, they cast more spells at the wall. Eventually, the wall vanishes completely, revealing a staircase. From behind it, a dozen robed and runed humanoids file into the main praying area of this forsaken church. The stiff but breathing bodies of the apprentices are leaned against their shoulders, and they begin to disappear again down the mysterious staircase.

Enelys took stock. Eyes, tongues, not whole jaws, but lungs, toe twitches - all the little processes that kept the body more or less alive were working. Good. She watched her captors closely, memorizing their spells and the matrixes thereof. Their numbers and physiques were on her mind as she worked on how exactly to revert the process that immobilized her. In theory, if she could counteract the magical energies that worked on binding her limbs and major movements, she could be free. Of course, trying to break out and fight or run probably wouldn’t end well. And besides, she wanted to see exactly where they were taking the other apprentices and why. She had plenty of theories and all of them pointed to a higher authority than the plebs who had actually captured them. Frankly, she wanted in on it. Someone who could capture a bunch of mage guild apprentices like this obviously had a plan for them. If she played her cards right, she could be on the winning side of that plan. But first it would require her not being paralyzed. Enelys began to work on the energy surrounding her. Drawing it in with her breathing and pumping it through her muscles. Translating the background field of magic into bodily energy. Restoring functionality to her own limbs was a simple matter of forcing them to move. Visualizing the micro sparks that would cause jerk reactions and break control. With one big breath she filled herself up with energy and absorbed it willfully into her body. It was a lot like having the wind knocked out of you with a gut punch to your everywhere. As soon as the breath left her body she could tell that the amount of force she had taken within herself had somehow short circuit the binding. Her muscles loosened and relaxed as her heart fluttered wildly. Just when she had cancelled out the rune spell though it was her turn to be taken down the stairs! She went rigid and did her best impersonation of the other paralyzed mages as she was carried downward.Step one success.

Lanlan sneaks invisibly over to Enelys and tugs on a strand of hair, putting it in a tiny glass vial. If he's going to communicate with her later, he'll need something to hone in on her position. Sometimes a name would work, but through all the layers of stone and possibly enchantment, he'd need something more concrete. Then they take her. She flops over some lackey's shoulder just like the rest of the apprentices and disappears down a long winding staircase. At the bottom, there's a few cells. Cubbies, carved into the stone. Some of them already have a bunch of people piled on top of each other. Enelys is thrown onto another pile. Each cubby is enchanted with some kind of magic inhibitor, so that when the magelings eventually do awaken, it'll be near impossible for them to blast holes in their prison or harm their captors. Besides the staircase, there is also a wide doorway. Moments after Enelys is unceremoniously plopped in a pile, two of Haladavar's minions emerge from this wide doorway with a rolling stretcher, a gurney. They approach another cell where the prisoners have already awoken. They've been awake for a little while, judging by the smell of foulness emanating so strongly from that direction. "Are you going to come quietly, or do we have to sting you?" The prisoners spread out to the back of the wall, forcing Haladavar's minion to come inside to get one. Instantly, the prisoners pounce. Just as instantly, the second minion tazes all of them with the head of his staff, a massive orange streak of indigo, jagged lightning chains from one to the other, stunning them all momentarily. So lackey number one takes his pick of a subject, and straps him to the gurney. Meanwhile, upstairs, they've taken the last of the apprentices down. Upon throwing Lanlan's illusive double into a pile they'll realize it was a fake, but it'll be too late. The wall they opened magically closes again, seamlessly, as if it was never opened at all. Lanlan examines it briefly.

Enelys watched without moving. She couldn’t watch without smelling though and that was awful. She was very fascinated with the idea of the guard using his staff to shock people. Enelys could work with that. She could definitely use that to her advantage. But again not yet. She had found where they put the mages but not what they were doing with them. There was still a who and a why and a what and a how. She needed those answers. Who was the person behind the kidnapping, why- about several things- and how could Enelys benefit from whatever it is? Once the guards were out and no one was looking she leapt off the paralyzed pile of peers and paced. Escape was not interesting. Manipulating these events to play out in her favor would be way more fun.

Elhaym could not accept this reality. She simply couldn’t. All her life, the Dancing Destrier and the good people of Xalious Village were all she ever knew. Never had she ventured beyond the town’s walls, let alone been kidnapped by cruel villains. None of the stories anyone had ever told her, not even Odhranos, ever included… this. The girl was still in her green dress, but it was torn and shredded in several locations. She was surrounded by bodies. Corpses? No, they were murmuring in distress. Not corpses, then. One of them seemed oddly amused by all of this as if capture and torture were playthings for the mind. No. Elhaym van Nisan could not, and would not, accept this reality at all. This was a dream. It had to have been a dream. Just like the dream of an orange ball of light. Just like the dream of a dragon as per a magister’s tale. Her head hurt something awful, but she took it as evidence that a nightmare was spawned by migraines in her sleep. Wait. Something did not add up. Something foul. “Why can I smell this?” Odd first words, and even in their scared stupor several apprentices managed to stare blankly at Elhaym in silent retort. “This isn’t right. I shouldn’t… this all feels too real.” The girl gasped for air that would not come. Her heart raced. She could feel her muscles tighten involuntarily. Her arms began to shake, followed by her legs. Leaning back into the stone wall behind her, scraping at her skin unintentionally and tearing at the seams of her already-ruined dress, Elhaym lifted her right hand to her mouth and tasted bile. She wanted -- needed -- to throw up last night’s duck stew. It didn’t happen. It was as if her body was so shaken that it had ceased reacting to the revulsion all around her even as her mind shattered into a hundred fragments of fear. “This cannot be happening to me. It cannot.” For the first time in her life, Elhaym struggled and failed to fake maturity and poise.

Khavra, one of Lanlan's cousins who followed in his footsteps and joined the guild, waited for the others to wake up. "We've been tricked," he says with finality, maybe a hint of shame. "Betrayed. Look at all the cells across from you." On the other side of the dungeon, there were three rooms carved into the wall. Two of them were empty, except for the piles of refuse mixing with blood. One was filled with people, some familiar faces, colleagues at the guild. All were terrified, some were sobbing, screaming. "We can't be like them. They're weak. They're prey. When the torturers come for us, we have to look...inconvenient. So they take the others first." He'd seen the robed people come in and pull people from their weeping heaps. They were victims. He didn't want to be. "They come from there every once in a while," he says gesturing to the wide doorway. "I don't know where it goes or where they took them. But no one's come back yet." He paused for a second. "Does anybody have weapons?" Most people didn't sleep with knives under their pillows, but most weren't taught to be paranoid or to expect betrayal from everyone you knew. He was drow. No one would get the jump on him...or so he thought.

Enelys would observe her new companions. She judged the girl in green to be a bit of a wild card, but the other one was useful. "Good, you're awake. And you seem to have regained more of your faculties than the other ones. I'll need you." The drow had made some good observations but he wasn't exactly right. "We will not become victims here. I am destined for more than this. But I'm not leaving ultil I figure out what they're doing with the other mages, and who set this in motion." Enelys pulled off her robe to reveal her now battle stained exercise unitard and weighted accessories. "I may not have any conventional weapons, but I do have an idea. I went to bed right after my exercise regimen. Pretty much collapsed. I never took anything off." She would relieve herself of a few iron bands around her limbs and begin dismabtling them, pulling on cords and polished pieces of dark bronze colored metal. "Which means the ghroundium wire I was using went unnoticed. I can fashion a garrotte wire out of this, and the cuffs can be used for brawling. The head torturer used his staff to shock the other prisoners. Lucky for us, I specialize in electricity and magnetism. With the door open and them inside, I antagonize him. If he shocks me I'll reroute right back into him and take his staff. While I do that, his croneys will be focused on me. You two get behind them and use these to attack. Hide them. We only get one chance so don't screw up. We need to look dazed, but awake. They'll underestimate us, but we'll be prime candidates to go next on the chopping block. Once we're out we split up. One of you needs to go back and get the guild. We won't stand a chance without them. I need to stay here. I'm more awake and alert. I can hold them off if need be." Really she just wants answers. Her desire to know more intensifies by the second.

“What?” Elhaym didn’t ask a question with the word so much as gasped for air with it. “Weapons? What kind of weapon do you suppose I would wield? A mop? I’m a bar wench.” At least she was regaining her latent sense of snark. This was all too much, but now that the drow was talking, and pointing out how dreadful a situation they were all in, the lass had to accept that it was happening. There was no waking up from the truth.

Dumbstruck from the horror of it all, it was all Elhaym could do to listen to the escape plan that another woman now described. Her blue eyes remained wide with fright the entire time. Ghroundium? Magnetism? The girl had heard such words spoken between mages as she served them meat and mead at the Dancing Destrier. She was thankful today for just how relentless she always was in begging the mages for stories. At least she knew what the terms meant, if barely.

Elhaym’s focus steadied the more that this clever woman talked. She wanted Elhaym to appear dazed, barely awake, and with a countenance to be underestimated. This, she thought, wouldn’t be hard. “As a matter of fact,” the auburn-haired lass replied, “I am all of those things and more.” The rest was going to be a good deal harder. The closest she had ever come to brawling was losing an arm-wrestling match against her own mother when she was ten. “It had best not be me who fetches your guild. I wouldn’t even know how to get there from this... wherever we are. I’m not supposed to be here,” she panicked. “I serve drinks. I clean tables. Odhranos says I have a gift. That’s all I know.” She resisted the urge to sob, but the urge was there, and strong.

Khavra listens closely to Enelys's plan, and appears inclined to interject at several points. Instead, he waits patiently, waiting until the end. Then calmly, "What's your name? I'll make sure your sacrifice is remembered." He looks to the rest of them. "Anyone else want their sacrifice remembered? No? Then maybe don't volunteer to be killed. We can't cast spells in here. At least neither can they, I think. That's why the one with the staff waited outside. So if you want your plan to work, you'll have to do it from the other side of these bars."

At least one of them wanted to do something. He turns to the girl in green, "Someone thinks you are supposed to be here. Maybe that gift is why 'Xalious chose you'. Shh! They're coming. Watch them." He kept his eyes down but stood straight with his arms crossed in front of him. Stance wide. He wanted to appear alive but stoic, strong yet unintimidating.

Two members of the Ossian Order appeared from around the corner. One pushed a cart and the other held a staff. The cart pusher whines, softly, but the hard stone walls channel his complaints toward the prisoners. "Alright but when are we supposed to get one for ourselves? We've gotten so much for them. For him, but we haven't gotten any." The one with the staff appears first around the corner, and notices several of the prisoners with eyes on them. "Shut up! They can hear you." He clears his throat. "Alright! Another one of you has been given the gift of Xalious! Don't worry, he's fine! You'll meet again soon. Any other...volunteers?" The spiel is given in jest of course. Mocking them for falling for the trick of thinking they're special enough to be chosen by Xalious himself. Sure, there was also some tricky hypnosis involved, but that wouldn't stem his sadistic glee.

Village Path

Meanwhile aboveground, Karasu had intercepted a whisper from the shadows while in Frostmaw. The last thing she had been expecting to hear from the report was that the Xalious Tree had been set ablaze. “The Guild needs my help. I… should probably go.” She had deliberately underplayed the situation for the person she was visiting's sake before running back almost the entire way to Xalious. Too little, too late, the topmost branches of the Holy Tree had been reduced to cinders by the time she came back, and funeral rites had already begun for those lost. That all-too-familiar sense of guilt plays on her nerves. How much would she have been able to do had she just not gone to see Odhranos? She thinks of this during the entirety of her patrol in the forests southeast of Xalious for any hideouts or remaining undead roaming the area. As she approaches the tower, she notes a pure black wolf approaching from the steep mountains where one of Craughmoyle's entrances were. "Nothing? Not even the missing kids?" The demi-feline asks. For a moment, the wolf simply stares at her with bright blue eyes, as if studying her movements to see how she was handling the situation. He finally gives a shake of its head as it joins in her trot. She chews on her lower lip in thought. "There were more discarded branch-wands than there were bodies on the recovered. They have to be around here somewhere, undead or not." Karasu says aloud as they approach the doors to the tower.

Lanlan crept away invisibly from the Shrine to Coreliant. His head was pounding, he was tired, he hadn't gotten a moment of rest. Instinctively, he made his way to Xalious and the Mage's Tower. It was a slow, cautious journey. He didn't know what he was going to walk into, he fled the battlefield when he knew the fight was lost, and ended up in a trap. How were they connected? It didn't make sense. Who was doing this? Kidnapping apprentices and assaulting the Xalious tree? The undead, he knew, had to be led by Caluss, or their leaders were led by Caluss. But what did that disgusting god of everything foul want with apprentices? But some of the apprentices were in on the trap, and doing great work in defending the tree from the undead behemoths. None of it made sense. He needed to put this burden on someone else. The entire way back, he scurried like a rodent. Crouching behind a bush. Stop. Wait. Look, listen. Scurry to the back of a tree. If the fight was still going on, he didn't want any part of it. By the time he gets back to the tower, the damage is done. The smell of body fluids, new and old, hung over everything. Death was everywhere. The only noise came from people calling out for loved ones who'd been lost, the mourning wails of mothers who'd lost sons, brothers who'd lost sisters, people who just found out they'd lost everything. It was one of the most horrible scenes Lanlan had ever seen, and yet it came as a relief. The fighting was over. The tower was completely intact. Untouched. Nothing made sense. And on the inside, it was almost empty. Some of the apprentices who hadn't been 'chosen by Xalious' were here, and like him, looking for any kind of leadership, any kind of explanation. But they were barking up the wrong tree. The council wasn't designed to handle catastrophes, they never were. So Lanlan would have to find someone else. He left the tower. "Karasu!" She's coming as he's going. His disguise is still holding up, visually. But he has no ability to act right now. He's Lanlan with sun-kissed skin and normal eyebrows. "Karasu!" She was a woman of action, and sickeningly misguided morals, if he remembered right. "Finally. Whatever you're doing can wait. We have to stop them." He instantly starts to leave, forgetting to explain. There was no time, apparently. Until he noticed his comrades were hesitating, questioning. Then he suddenly stops, turns around, and explains everything from the dream intrusion, to the zombie attack, to the trap and kidnapping, to the secret staircase. After he finishes the explanation, he stands examining her for any type of knowing.

When the disguised elf's explanation is finished, the black wolf at Karasu's side steps away from both her and the beautiful TanLan. A smoky sphere surrounds the beast that intensifies to engulf it completely before elongating upwards to their height. As quickly as it appears, the smoke dissipates, leaving Magik standing where the wolf once was. Black fire burns bright in his eyes with renewed fury for the revelation. Karasu steps forward before Veneficus D'Chath speaks, her expression having twisted from confusion to a surprisingly calm, yet serious expression. Despite her face, her hand rests at the handle of her sword, the knuckles having gone white from how hard she's gripping it. Somewhere, she recalls that one of her students reported that his friend had disappeared overnight. Was this related to the previous drop in attendance? "Lead the way." As they move eastwards towards the secret entrance, Magik notes to his Owl, "You don't have the advantage here if your magic is weakened. Have you tested your abilities since getting back? I can go in alone." Karasu grits her teeth at the reminder as Lanlan rounds the corner to the Shrine of Coreliant. "I haven't, but we'll make it work. They're my students too." To TanLan, she starts a line of follow-up questions, her mind already racing with strategies from months of her own personal espionage endeavors. "Are there Drow amongst their troupe? I have an invisibility cloak, but it isn't warded against their eyes. Alternatively, I can start getting the kids out if I look like them. Do they have any kind of uniform to tell them apart?"

Lanlan chokes on the smoke that accompanies Magik's transformation, convincing himself it was harmful, because, you know...he could see it and expected it. As he waves away the already dissipating smog and Magik appears, his face sours a bit. "It's discourteous to hide your true form from your allies. There's so little trust to go around as it is." On the way to the shrine, he has no choice but to eavesdrop, and almost as little choice but to chime in. "Whatever your sickness, you'll have to get over it. We don't have time to replace you." His tone was cold and stern, like the gray elf they knew, instead of cheery and optimistic like the wood elf that didn't exist. "I'm not sure what they are," he replies to Karasu before quieting down. They found the marble steps. He peered inside...why was it so dark? It was pitch black, an enchanted darkness resistant to any mundane torch or lantern. Last time they were following the false herald of Xalious, the only light in the pitch dark. Looking back, it was quite a nice touch. Become the only thing they could ever hope to follow, and they will. The chamber was empty, except for the giant statue of the gnome. "They wore dark brown robes and hoods," he whispers just in case, "It was impossible to see what they looked like." That was a lie, he too wished he had the presence of mind to remember them. "Come here." he leads them around the statue to an inconspicuous spot behind it, and begins to pore over the cobblestones. "The secret entrance is around here somewhere." After poring over the lumpy wall for minutes, he finds it. "This section of stones looks exactly like the ones next to it."

He knew at least one of them was an illusionist, so he followed his hunch. With the slightest little effort of his handsome tan hand, he dispels the illusion, revealing a section of wall covered in painted runes. "What has a mouth," he begins, as he traces a finger down one colum of the matrix, "but never talks. And always runs but never walks?" Lanlan ponders for a moment, and moves on He clears his throat as he moves onto the next one. "Your journey is ending, the path is broken. But it can be fixed! If you can cast...and the last rune is scratched, I can't read it." He goes to the final column, and reads the final riddle. "this has no mouth but it will eat everything if you let it. If you want to kill it, just let it drink." He takes an exasperated breath in and out. "I saw them casting spells but I couldn't see what they were without risking getting caught myself. The first ones easy. It's obviously a rabbit. One of you, go get a rabbit."

Karasu passes a hand over her tired face as they approach the shrine. "You don't really 'get over' your sole magical nexus point getting decimated by walking corpses, but okay." The spellblade retorts bitterly, moreso at the idea of being powerless than at the wood elf. Her fingers reach up for the shapeshifting gem around her neck, but she hesitates. With no one approaching, there was no need to waste reserves yet. Karasu's ears swivel around as the illusion is dispelled, keeping her heightened senses attuned for any sort of mistep or displacement in the surrounding air. The first riddle is met with a simple nod. Water. Easy. The second riddle raises a brow. She had been studying runes, but the scratches on this particular letter could make this any one of five letters. To the third spell, "Fire. Magik's department; he'll use less reserves than me if we have to actually cast to open." She says idly, still passing a thumb over the scratched rune to take care of it. At Lanlan's request, she balks, whipping a head upwards with a scrunched nose. Studying his features, she remarks, "I have no idea if you're serious or not. Just..." She lowers her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Stand in front of the first column. Magik, tell him before I hit him." Karasu sighs, turning her attention back to the scratched rune. The feline had yet to see a cantrip used this way, but she tries it anyways. "Mend."

The Lyastri blinks at TanLan and his ridiculous waving off of the smoke. There's no smell. It's literally just a smoke show. His comment however was a little uncalled for so he glares at TanLan, "Yes. It is a bit discourteous to hide one's true self. You should tell that to whoever these members are if they infiltrated the guild to kill apprentices.." Did Magik know who TanLan really is? No. Does it add dramatic flair? A little bit. "Who's to say this form is my true form?" The Lyastri looks to camera left, "Hmm." And winks. Anyways. Into the chamber they go. A rabbit? "What are you on about? How is that a rabbit? It's a river. Rivers have water, usually..A feckin rabbit.." Magik looks to Kara, "Who is this guy?" Magik holds a closed fist out and opens his hand to reveal an orange fireball. No black flames? Not this time. The Lyastri looks to TanLan, "Go on. Let's do this. Good thing we have exactly the necessary abilities to open whatever this is. Lucky us, eh?..Whenever you two are ready."

The Ossian Order’s Laboratory

After Magik and Karasu solve the riddles on the matrix, the paint on the broken rune is repaired. Then all of them shuffle, turn, rearrange, or disappear, until the meaning is new. For pride's sake, Lanlan had to solve a riddle. Sure he could make excuses, he was tired, it's dark, zombies, etc. But this was for himself. So he doesn't even share it with his former and now-again colleagues. "Quiet!" He says to them just to make sure. It says, 'What's easy to keep but breaks as soon as you speak?' Lanlan does nothing but think about this for several long moments, and suddenly the text vanishes. "I knew it." The wall, in a matter of seconds, doesn't exist. This section empties into a winding stone staircase, and like an old fridge in an abandoned house, should never have been opened. The air is saturated with moisture and stink. It clings to the lumpy walls, the bumpy floor, eventually, even Lanlan's skin through his clothes. He has one solitary hiccup that leaks water from his eyes, then he descends slowly. One hand bracing a wall, and stepping toes first on his soft and fashionable moccasins, which were covered in guts and zombie syrup. Mostly dry though. The sounds from the dungeon begin echoing through the chamber, and up the twisting stairs to them, and Lanlan halts. Another step and they'll be in view of anyone who wanted to see them. First, he listens to the distorted voice. "...Anymore… volunteers?" A sadistic chuckle overlaps itself with echoes as Lanlan wills the guy to shut the hell up so he can hear the response.

She didn't want to admit it to herself, but for all her complaints, her self-doubt and her fear, Elhaym was glad that one of her conscious "companions" had a plan. Seeing it knocked down like bricks before a storm when the other conscious companion pointed out the plan's flaws did little to calm the girl. So, one of them was brave but stupid; the other was pragmatic but her only suggestion thus far was to do something on the other side of the bars. Which might have meant that they were both stupid. But no one, Elhaym knew, was stupider than herself. Stupid for having fallen for this. Stupid for having absolutely no plan whatsoever. Stupid for going her whole life without so much as a hint that she possessed latent magical abilities. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

What were their captors babbling on about? Their bandit leader, or whoever "he" was, kept getting them? Getting what? Getting who? Slow realization dawned on Elhaym's face, which only added to her present self-deprecation. The apprentices weren't here to be used as... slaves, were they? The thought sent palpable fear through her veins. Her face felt cold as ice. She was terrified. Then, the one with the staff was in full view, and one of the captors jested about "the gift of Xalious." The same words that the drow prisoner beside Elhaym had just used. Tugging at her braid, Elhaym sank lower against the wall and placed her hands over her forehead. But despite her movement, something unknown loomed inside her. Something like courage.

"Maybe I was chosen," she whispered into the stagnant air. It was hardly an answer to the members of the Ossian Order, an organization that Elhaym had never even heard of. It was an answer to the drow. To Khavra. And, against every bit of common sense that she had ever been taught, Elhaym van Nisan looked up to the man with the staff and smirked.

Enelys was a little confused by the girl in green. What the hells was she talking about? “A waitress...” but that drow was underestimating her. “Yeah, I get that. I’m not about to try to use magic from the inside. But if we rush him together, we can-“ no more planning, stuff was happening, people were coming. Enelys tried to look dazed and confused, but more or less awake compared to the other apprentices. Trying, but not like, too hard. She had never taken actor classes. Just when it seemed like things were going the way she thought they would (which of course, she was right) the other girl got this weird look on her face. Enelys suddenly wasn’t so sure what was happening. Which was fine, she could totally go with the flow. Was she supposed to say something here though? Should they have made some sort of signal? Well, whatever was going on, Enelys convinces herself to be ready for it and just kind of hoped the others would as well.

Lanlan holds his open palm in front of his face, focuses his intent, and then sees his own reflection in his hand as it becomes a mirror. What looked back was a damned grotesquerie, covered in blood and dirt, and whatever else. He couldn't help but try to smooth out his hair a little, wipe off someone else's crusted fluids off his brow. He shook his head impatiently. He couldn't do enough until he found access to some kind of facilities. For that he needed to finish this. To that end, he slowly extends his mirrored palm past the wall, so Magik and Karasu can see as well. In the reflection, they see the robed duo veer off from their usual route to the cell where they heard some whispers instead of weepers. "Did I hear someone say, "Me"?" Asks the man with the staff. "Or are you thinking you could escape?" He bangs his staff against the cells metal bars, and a cacophonous blast of thunder slams into the prisoners inside. "We left them alone too long, Dreven, we can't let them get used to a pattern. Open this one this time." Dreven whispers an incantation and waves his droopy sleeved hands around in some particular way, and the bars magically form seams that let them slide open.

This was as long as they could wait, Lanlan thought, and he cast a spell directly into the image of his hand using nothing but his eyes. Both men suddenly start to panick, as their mouths seem to melt, their lips fusing together into a seamless lump, silencing them. Presumably these two are about to be perforated and brutalized in some horrible way, and Lanlan would love to see it! But he rushes past them to the doorway. He cranes his neck back to the room, taking it all in, and hangs a magic curtain over the threshold. To anyone on the other side of this curtain, the room is exactly the same, sans chaos.

Enelys is all for it. The bar-seam trick was one she’d have to remember for later. Whatever was happening in these dudes brains takes precedence. Running, jumping, screaming like a banshee the entire time, Enelys immediately leaps into the one with the staff and starts to strangle him. The ghroudium garrote wire was about as effective as she’d hoped, and as both her thighs and hands squeezed and held tight, she was glad she never skipped leg day. Once this goon was down she picked up his staff and went over to the other cages. As a fast learner, she recalled the motion of Deven's hands, but the thunder blow had kept her from hearing what he said. “Screw it.” Enelys declares. Moving metal is her thing! Twirling the staff in a series of short, swift movements, Enelys felt the metal with her magic, and gave a strong jerk in either direction. She just needed to bend the bars apart far enough to make an escape hatch. The bars of the cage bend open as well, giving all the prisoners in this area room to escape. Everyone could flee for their lives if they wanted to.

Magik eyes the situation from TanLan's nifty mirror trick. As the chaos quickly unfolds inside of the holding chamber, Magik whispers to Lan and Kara, "Keep quiet. We don't know if someone is listening in somehow. Get them to the elven camp in Southern Sage." With that, Magik slips into the chamber first. Karasu follows right after to try to get the remaining students free. The Lyastri heads for the second OO member and presses a hand to his face to push him back against the closest wall. Magik pushes through the resistance of the other male and forcefully beats the back of his head against the wall behind him. As the OO member finally goes limp, Karasu calls out to Magik, "M-" Magik quickly turns and holds a finger up to his lips. Kara starts over, "I can't get them out.." Magik let's the limp body fall to the ground before joining Karasu's side. "F.." Karasu tugs at his backpack then points to the cell. The elf grins as he kneels down infront of the cell and takes off his backpack. He opens it up and pushes it between the bars while whispering to the remains students, "Climb in. Trust me."

Elhaym had struggled immensely from the instant that she awakened here in this cell, but nothing felt stranger, nor more foreign, than hearing her own voice challenge the despots who captured her. The sullen look on her face did not flinch. Even as all hell broke loose. Even as, in a flash, a flurry of violence surrounded her world. Violence the likes of which she had never imagined, not even in the stories. In hindsight, her cherished storytellers were probably hiding the grim details from her all along. Why? Because she was a girl? Were girls inherently less capable of handling scenes of carnage and despair? Elhaym, standing perfectly still amidst the brutalization of terrified men, found such nonsense hard to believe.

"Get up," the girl all but growled. The startled, cowering apprentices who hadn't said a word all stared at her, eyes wide. Is this what Elhaym had looked like only moments ago? Like a lamb, fit to be slaughtered? Were these mages or mules, damn them! "I said get up! Get in there and be saved, you dolts." She gasped at her own tenacity, covering her mouth. She must have seemed insane. 'Perhaps I am,' she mused in silence. But crazy or not, the apprentices seem to have taken the hint. One by one, they performed the bizarre and unseemly motion of entering another person's bag.

Even after kiting the apprentices into the bag, Elhaym remained oddly poised, hands clasped behind her back. Despite the state of her attire, the dirt and bruises on her face, her hair in disarray, she could have been mistaken for royalty. The tavern wench was gone. This was something else entirely. Footsteps could be heard in the distance. Rushed footsteps. The footsteps of further foes. Not so distant, actually. Close enough to soon be seen.

"Let them come," Elhaym said.

Lanlan hears the footsteps coming from the hallway around the corner, and flaps his hands around madly to call his colleagues to attention. The sign language clearly spelled out 'holy eff, more bad guys are coming, I'm panicking, get ready to do something'. He takes a deep breath, and over the course of a few seconds, his disguise adapts, becoming fluid. Magic swirls over his face and body, mixing his natural gray, his fake tan, and finally a dingy brown. His wood elfy leathers change to brown robes that cover his moccassins, and long imaginary sleeves slide over his hands. He steps through the threshold. Remember, he draped an illusive curtain that would make it appear as though everything on the other side of the threshold was normal. Using the little snippets he heard from earlier, he's able to mimic Dreven's friend's voice, almost exactly. "We left them alone too long," he says to them. There's three, two humanoids dressed like him, and the fluttering pixie he saw upstairs just hours ago. Right now his goal is to distract them, and maybe let his colleagues set up an ambush. They're wary of him. "Tell me what happened," the pixie says in a high-pitched voice. Though it was nothing like the deep lofty voice he used when he pretended to be Xalious's Herald, the pixie still imparted the same authority.

"I heard them say...they were thinking they could escape," he looked back into the room and gestured inside, trying to get them into view. He looked over. There was an extra ossian agent in the room. "Dreven was wondering!" Lanlan interjected. "We've brought Him a lot of apprentices now. He wants to know when we will get some."

"When He says so," the pixie says coldly.

"I'm beginning to have my doubts that he ever will."

"Move." They shove past him, and what they see is...mostly normal. Everything is as it should be. Except! That there is one more Ossian agent than there should be. Hopefully by now, someone is ready to do something.

Karasu grits her teeth as Lanlan disguises himself to address the members, her lips curled in disgust towards the hooded men. Back at the holding pens, she rotates her hand quickly to signal to the prisoners to hurry the hell up. Seeing the way the redhead rises to the occasion, she quirks her brow. Perhaps Elhaym's change in demeanor was adrenaline, some kind of innate instinct to protect those crippled without the ability to use magic, or some kind of temporary madness. Whatever it was, she could absolutely respect it. Karasu squints slightly, tilting her head. Wait, isn't this Esmerelda's kid? But Elhaym wasn't even-- Oh, who had time for that. The spellblade waves to catch her attention and points to the bag to indicate 'hey! you have to get in too!' Should the tavern girl refuse to get in, Karasu would then unclasp a hunting knife at her hip opposite where her sword rests. If she wanted to die, she might as well die fighting.

The shout from one of the kidnappers to move causes the woman to jolt. Her slitted pupils shrink into pinpricks as she moves to grab her sword. There's a breath of hesitation. This area was far too narrow to be swinging this thing around. Bladed daggers are withdrawn from their sheaths on either side of her heeled boots, and an incantation is whispered in quick succession as the member of the Ossian Order squints at the disguised playing out before him. With the Xalious Tree damaged, there's no telling how long she has before the strain to keep the spell maintained becomes too much, but seconds are all that are needed. The moment her invisibility activates, she strikes, stepping through the portal. Both humanoid men turn their heads as the sound of clicking heels resonates between them, just in time for the demifeline to make two clean swings. One for each neck. The men clutch at their throats with strangled gasps, and the pixie turns around quickly to face Lanlan with a bewildered expression that quickly turns to one of rage. An intruder!

Once the willing students have climbed into the ridiculously spacious backpack, Magik pulls it back through the bars of the cage, he pokes his head inside for quick instructions, "If any of you touch my alcohol I will make sure you are back in these cages as soon as possible.That's your only warning." With that, the backpack is closed and secured onto his back. Magik is quick to follow up behind Karasu and Lan. They've all already spent way too much time down here as it is. As Karasu dispatched one OO member, Magik made his way to the other to kick him to the ground after having his throat slit. This. Is. Xalious!...Or whatever. As Magik pushes through to get next to Lan, that smokey orb appears once more and disappears to reveal a large black wolf leaping through the air to snag the pixie out of the air, instantly biting it in half. The bottom half falls to the ground as the Lyastri lands. Magik maneuvers the top half of the pixie in his canine mouth and chomps down on its head. The wolf's bright blue eyes look to the other two and his ears point straight up? Did he just eat that pixie?! Yep. Magik pads back to the backpack that was dropped during his transformation and grips a strap in his mouth signaling he's ready to keep moving.

Who was this woman? This killer-with-a-knife? Elhaym blushed but stood her ground. "Not until every last one of them is safe." Gesturing to the remaining apprentices, whose single-file bag entry was borne not from savvy but rather the gradual realization that attempting to dive in three at a time would end in failure, Elhaym accepted Karasu's knife with the kind of villager curtsy that could only come from Esmerelda van Nisan's own daughter.

That was when it happened. The girl would later wonder if she had been possessed by the spirit of a great fighter, some tale-won champion or wicked slayer. Pivoting her bare feet to the cold stone floor, she raced ahead with the same pace that she had used so many times not to issue killing blows but to keep the good people of Xalious served with all the bread and mead they liked. But this time, there was a twist -- a bodily swirl that deftly evaded the dagger of one last OO operative, a man who had appeared around the corner just seconds ago, sight unseen, preparing his steel to find purchase between the ribs of a hapless apprentice whose first attempt to reach the bag had resulted in disarray. The apprentice, still too tired and stunned to move in a natural manner, had clumsily stepped past the bag and almost into the man's prime trap.

When Elhaym's knife struck the operative's neck, blood splashed onto her tattered green dress. She almost looked garbed fit for a wintertime celebration, all greens and reds. As the man slumped, squealed, and died, Elhaym's timidity abruptly returned. "Oh my gods," she mumbled, wasting no time to enter the bag herself now that the deed was done. But still she held her knife, and her stance never fell into trembles.

As the agents of the Ossian order step through Lanlan's illusion, they realize the truth. Reality is before them, their prisoners are escaping. Before the agents can do anything, even scream, Karasu slices their throats. The pixie comes to terms, scowls at Lanlan, and spreads out its tiny fingers and large influence over this underground lair. Bright red runes begin to fill into every inch of every piece of masonry in the cell block. They're so small, so densely packed, and so numerous, that the entire room is washed in scarlet light. The enchantment takes hold of every person in the room, and draws the magic out of every person in it. Lanlan's illusion fades, and he's revealed as himself as Magik pounces on the pixie and shreds it. He presses his back to the wall behind him in a fright and stares as Magik devours the pixie. While his attention is held by the massacre, Elhaym dashes in front of him and rescues him from an assailant he didn't notice. At the end of the hall, comes one more...thing. It's a man, apparently, but his skin looks almost like polished cobalt. Embedded in its chest is a strange magenta gem. It pulses once, and a massive storm of magenta dust plumes out of it in a wide cylinder toward Lanlan. He dives out of the trajectory and lands on his belly as it slams into the wall behind him. While he comes to his feet and darts away, the dust spills into the cell block and rolls over the bodies with slit throats. When the dust settles, they're completely disintegrated. There's nothing left. The Mage's Guild remnants dash out of the cell block as the rest of the organic material is devoured by this powerful magic being. Lanlan splits from the rest of them, assuming they'll be returning to the guild. He isn't allowed, and now these people have seen his face.