RP:The Needs Of The Many Outweigh The Needs Of The Few

This is a Warrior's Guild RP.

Part of the Dissonance Theory Arc

Summary: Kasyr and Magik commit some war crimes in the name of furthering the fight against Xicotl.

Note: This RP is classified information. Do not use info from it unless specifically told about it by Kasyr ICly.

Somewhere Between Kelay And Craughmoyle

Kasyr|| Not for the first time in the last half hour, the Kensai found his eyes tracking over the distant sight of the village beneath him. Like it's peers upon 'the list' , it was amongst those slated to be destroyed by Xicotl on it's journey towards Frostmaw- leaviing little to denote it's existance save a crater, and a long list of maps in need of updating. It was weird to measure out it's existence in this manner- though perhaps less odd than his choice of vantage point, given that the swordsman is quite literally perched upon a small platform composed of summoned swords- allowing him to be naught more then a glint in the heavens looking over the day to day lives of the villagers below. "A guardian angel would be here to intervene, though, non?"

Though, perhaps that wasn't entirely correct. An intervention -was- slated to happen- only the results were not apt to be palatable to most- and the end results were going to keep the divination guiding his actions intact. And that was the important part, wasn't it? If they couldn't ascertain the -why- of those villages dissapearing, they could at least ensure that it's behaviour didn't abruptly grow erratic. Hopefully. "Just another gamble. Business as usual." Speaking of which- the kensai reaches up to his guild communicator, sending out a hail to Magik. Hopefully the man was in range, given the swordsman had managed how important his presence was. 'It could end the conflict early, just as long as we can execute this swiftly and smoothly.' "...Yeah, things going according to plan for once -would- be nice." Though, that hinged on Magik doing what needed to be done. "Could I...? I'd likely immunize the lot of them. Moreso." The swordsman pinches his nose. He's been waiting up here for too long, if he can't stop talking to himself.

Magik is quick to respond to Kasyr's call per say. He's even quicker to determine a location and head off. After a sweep of the treehouse in Sage to gather his pack and bow he leaves a quick note for Meri. Something about being back later, no worries, and a night at the gallery with some wine when he returns. Satisfied with his gear and note, he turns to his black smoke form and is off on another mission.

The Elder Lyastri usually preferred to zip along the tips of the treeline for some reason but today he found himself just barely skimming the bottoms of any low hanging clouds. Finally spotting Kasyr hanging out above the village, he flies over to him and floats just beside the kensai. "Kas. What have we got?" The elf's upper half materializes as he looks from Kasyr to the village below.

Kasyr is mildly gladdened by Magik's obvious entrance- if only because it means the man wasn't inconspicuously present while the swordsman engaged in pre-mission musing. Well, that, and the fact that they were well and truly ready. "You're punctual, I definitely appreciate it." With a nod to the Lyastri, the swordsman walks over to the precipice of his steel-y platform, gawking over the edge so that he can make a sweeping gesture over the village. "If the notes I have are correct, " In tandem with the corrections that came from Krice's scouting journeys, "This village is going to cease to exist, et soon. Swallowed into the earth by our resident evil salad et it's minions." The kensai pauses here, for a few moments, allowing that nuggest of information to sink in, even as the peasants below continue going about their day. "The thing es, that also provides us an opportunity to hurt it, badly. The thought came to me during the experiment with Khitti." The kensai pauses here, rubbing at either side of his temple. He was saying it all out of order, and that was going to muddle things. "Okay- so. When the shrub had attacked on a smaller scale, it's attack had been preceded by a number of tendrils- which bore through the earth to clear a path for it's thralls, and even carry some. And that was for something -smaller-. What's supposed to happen today es an attack that es going to reduce this area to a barren sink hole." The kensai pauses here, trying to gauge whether or not Magik has been properly following what the swordsman has lain out. Just in case, "To orchestrate an attack on the scale of what es due- I think we're going to see a much greater concentration of it's body then normal. I asked you here today, because I want to see if we can -sear- through it's grubby, people-eating appendages. Give it a black eye, tu sais? And maybe, if we're lucky- we might be able to take pieces of it back to Tessa et the others to study- et to weaponize." Sucks to be the people in the town, though.

Normally there would be a smirk forming across Magik's features at the slight compliment Kasyr was giving but he was much more eager to learn what the game plan was for today. As Kas walks along the platform, the pyromancer floats just beside him. The information about the village's imminent doom makes the elf slouch his shoulders just a little bit as he stares down as well. There's a deep sigh as thoughts of doing something about saving the villagers come and go. He decides to spare Kas the argument. Could Mag at least get down there and try to save a small handful of children before disaster strikes? Sure. Could that possibly ruin the only chance they have at taking a bite out of this thing? Also correct. The Lyastri fixes his posture as Kasyr continues on but remains focused on the village. When appropriate, he turns to look at the kensai. He folds his arms in front of his chest. Magik remains quiet in thought for a short moment. He understood the assignment. He's just trying to figure out which type of arrows to start off with. "Okay. How long do we have until this thing appears? Do you have a general plan of attack or..?" Or are we just going to improvise? Either way, Magik was looking determined and focused all of a sudden.

Kasyr's nature as an empath means he has some degree of insight into the emotional turmoil percolating within his co-conspirators psyche- though it's not like the man had made any effort to establish a poker face. And so, the Kensai waits a few moments- allowing him to properly grapple with the morality of the issue, until Magik's posture adjusts and he seems to steel himself for what needs to be done. "If I had to guess- within the next hour or so, at best. I don't feel anything -yet-, but, this place was supposed to vanish sometime in the late afternoon." And whilst that meant they -could- have potentially arrived sooner still- that would have potentially enlarged the likelihood of being spotted. "As for a plan of attack- Yes. The thralls -aren't- our target here. At best, they'll be an incidental fatality. What I want you to do is set up a spell to-" He pauses a second to pinch his nose, before he finishes the thought, "To glass the area, en fait. I want a spell with enough intensity that when it's tendrils come up, we can burn through them, even with whatever magical resistance they may or may not generate from the proximity of the thralls." There's a pause, before the Kensai adds, "That part I can help with. While I'm not the most adapt at intricate spells- My reserves are profound enough to be able to fuel something like that- if you'd be able to drawn from me as a willing source." A neat trick the kensai had honed in the past, given the sheer array of casters he's worked with "Non- the tricky part, will be -directing- the spell, since it won't simply suffice to drop it on the village. Ideally- we want to ensure that at least some portion of the shrub remains intact, so we can ferry it out of this place, and deliver it to our academics. Knowledge is power- and I can think of nothing more powerful, in this instance, then getting a piece of it." Therein lies the rub- however. How to shape the spell to maximize damage, but also to ensure they have residue to play with. " And obviously- If we mess this up, we won't get a second chance. Since, while I've done my best to ensure things have stayed on course so we could continue to predict it's movements. Well." Yeah- this will definitely be messing with whatever prognostication they're coasting by on.

Magik started going through an internal list of different spells and strategies as Kasyr explained the situation. They need something with precision. Arrows were thrown out of the mix immediately. There were too many variables, mainly wind gusts from how far away they were. The work of a particular psion would probably help but given she's back at the treehouse.. The smoke disappears as Magik finally finds his footing on the makeshift platform..if the kensai will allow it. The Lyastri then looks to Kasyr, "When I was subconsciously ridding myself of the Curse of Elazul my abilities were quite literally lashing out uncontrollably." There was a small smirk forming, "Now that's over with..All I need is one peek at a tendril and I can whip it off of its body. I accidentally split a couple people in half with that move.." He looks over the platform and stares at the village in its entirety. "Yeah..I can do this." Looking back at Kas, he takes his offer of amplifying the attack into consideration, "We can definitely do this." But what if they miss? "Plan B.." Magik shakes his head at the thought of him actually missing a mark like this, "I'll get closer and send everything I have at it." PTSD intensifies to the final moments of his curse when he turned half of the desert into a bunch of glass shards. The elf was ready to do what needed to be done as he takes in a deep breath with a slow exhale, "Now we wait.."

Kasyr stoops down into a crouch and leans over the edge of the platform, to such a degree that it looked like it would simply need a stiff wind to send him tumbling over the edge. "The scale might make...whipping it off a bit. Well." Down below, a flock of birds erupt from the tree-line, a frantic cacophony of caws echoing into the air, which only intensifies as more and more begin to take flight across the area. "It's a matter of scale." So frenzied is the flocks desire to leave, that they whip past the bladed platform, without a care- briefly muddling the sight of the village below. And it's not just the birds. Elsewhere, the sound of spooked animals calling out in the surrounding woodlands echo through the air, some primal instinct serving to warn them of the incoming calamity. Perhaps even those poor souls in the village might have detected it. A prickling of the hair on the back of their neck, even when the ground had yet to tremor. "If it's anything like the thralls, we may only get one shot." That said, the Kensai begins to concentrate, exerting all his focus towards drawing up that well of energy contained within him- to harness and condense it.

There was, after all, a certain amount of improvisation inherent in this process, despite everything that's been said. After all, while Kasyr has worked in tandem with other mages before, they were typically a lot more familiar. And even then- fine tuning the exacts of what into the spell had been . . . Hazy. Really, it's moments like this where his eviction from the mage guild felt a bit keener- as this situation seemed the sort he could have poised to former colleagues, in order to facilitate the process, and ascertain the risks. For instance, if there's a personal component to spell work, just how much could a spell change due to the source of it's fuel.

It takes the sound of splitting wood to rouse the kensai from his academic reveries- sturdy oak planks loudly pronouncing their lamentations as one of the houses bursts apart in a rain of splintered fragments. Where once the edifice stood, a writhing tendril of dense, vegetation extends outwards- dwarfing both the ruins, and the myriad bodies now swarming about the village. Some of them are the villagers, panicked by the sudden devastation, as well as the sink holes beginning to form all about the town- but others would be more keenly familiar to Magik and Kasyr. For each new tendril that erupts from the ground heralds a fresh flow of thralls spat up from the ruptured earth- spewed out with such violence, they may as well be pus from a freshly lanced boil. There was no more time, ruin was here. And so, the Kensai puts his right hand to Magik, and focuses every iota of magical power he can- repercussions be damned.

Magikrios rethought his strategy as Kasyr spoke..more than he'd like to admit. Whipping would be risky and arrows were out of question. His black fiery eyes started to lock onto any movement below, shifting to each new reaction caused by the impending doom. There was only a simple blink as that damn village killer made itself known by obliterating that poor house. The next tendrils to appear had Magik trying to figure out any movement patterns. As the destruction begins, improvising seems to be the better option. "F.." A woman lets out a death curdling scream from below. "..it." After a quick shake of his head, he quickly takes grasp of Kasyr's right forearm, "Don't let go.." With his arm grasped, the two take on Magik's black smoke form. To Kas, the smoke is lighter in color with the world distorting slightly around them. There's a sudden weightlessness as the smoke takes them off of the makeshift platform and above the plant monster. Magik knew he had to dig deep to get through an unlucky tendril but he wasn't anticipating Kasyr's boost. A large fireball is thrown from the cloud to the village below to try and give Xicotl that black eye as it was put. But the added power throws Magik off of his game. The fireball was much larger and heavier than expected. It flies wide and completely destroys an untouched house. Magik curses out loud as he realizes his potential with Kas involved.

The black smoke starts to tear through the sky above to get to an even better angle on the creature. Giving it all he has and some more thanks to Kasyr, there are no more fireballs. There's a thick beam of fire and heat aimed close to the body of Xicotl where the tendrils seem to be stemming from. The thought of, "Could we just end it here..," did cross the Lyastri's mind but if not then they could lose the one chance to get a closer look at the being and how it works. Who knows? Maybe the villagers will turn to ash immediately instead of being turned into the thrall that do Xicotl's dirty work.

Kasyr continues to steel his mind, tuning out the chorus of wails echoing up from the village as the chaos beneath intensifies. In fact, he's so consumed by this act, that he fails to grasp Magik's intentions until he's abruptly drawn into the smokey nimbus and sent drifting away from the platform that had formerly held them. The confusion is brief but poignant, enough that their former lookout point collapses into a chaotic rain of metal miscellany- though that damage pales in comparison to Magik's trial shot.

"What are you aiming. . .-?" The swordsman doesn't quite finish the thought, however, as an acute awareness begins to form, in regards to both the energy dredged up the initial spell, as well as just how much is being coaxed forward for what's coming next. It's a spectacular display, in truth- a corona of flame springs to life in front of Magik's smoke-garbed form, with such intensity that it coaxes a number of small fires into existence along the nearby tree tops.

Yet that pales n comparison to the concentrated beam that sunders the sky, crashing down onto the tendril of ancient plant matter like a pillar of celestial flame. A fitting image too, as the sheer violence in it's creation serves to answer at least one of the prayers made today- the palpable waves of heat which wash through the village reducing man, woman and child alike into smouldering carcasses unsuited to thralldom. Nor are the thralls themselves spared from the calamity- as the sheer spontaneous intensity provides them little means in spontaneously developing a resistance-- the village square promptly reduced to a curious mixture of scorched heath, molten glass, and swirls of glowing cinders. An abrupt ruination which is further mirrored in the smouldering foundations of the houses which had formerly composed this place. The only thing left standing, ultimately, is the tendril- which thrashes with violent abandon as it's sanctified flesh cracks, bubbles- and then finally bursts under the sheer intensity of Magik's spell.

Wiith a violent start, the creatures amputated tendril flails out a spray of putrescent ichor across the ground, before it heaves back towards the very pit it emerged from. The sheer speed it departs is disconcerting enough, and yet, what's worse is the aftermath- for it's prodigial size leaves little in it's wake, coaxing portions of the ravaged town to begin collapsing inwards- pulled down into a gradually forming chasm.

Something which leaves Magik with a brand new problem- given not only does he need to figure out retrieving an rather large chunk of shrub god- he's now also saddled with yet another unexpected developement. To whit, Kasyr's attempt at pouring every iota of magical energy he had available into that spell was a singular success. In the sense that, he'd managed to utterly deplete himself, and was now an incredibly weary bit of dead weight. It's fine.

If Magik had any extra focus to dedicate at the moment, he would have shed a tear for those innocent lives lost via his own doing and/or that damn plant monster's. His primary focus was taken by the sheer intensity of his abilities that Kasyr provided a boost too. Such power. The Lyastri did manage to turn a huge part of a desert to glass before but this..this was different. This was controlled chaos, focused. He might have to attempt to recreate this power at another time down the road..once everything calms down again. However.. At least those poor souls were vaporized instantly and wouldn't have to be killed again down the road as thralls, right?

Magik ended up giving it his all but stopped the assault as soon as it was evident that the first part of their mission was complete. There was a deep breath in and Kasyr might have even felt Magik's grip loosen just a tad. "We should be good.." And there's the new issue. A depleted Kasyr and an exhausted Magik with them losing the possibility of grabbing that tendril before it gets swallowed in the chasm below. Still high above the village, Magik gives Kas' arm a slight shake, "Kas!" The timing couldn't have been any more perfect. The yelling causes Magik to lose his smokey form for a quick second, "Oh no." Magik and Kasyr flick in and out of their true form, dropping a few feet in altitude as they do so. "Kas, I'm sorry, but.." Without a word of warning from the Lyastri, Magik retightens his grip on the kensai and starts hauling ass towards the chasm, trying to remain high in the sky above. Those fiery eyes lock onto the only chance of getting an upper hand on Xicotl and that chance is starting to slip away quickly.

When the pair are right above the loose tendril, Magik lets go of Kasyr's arm to send him flying forward through the sky, fully materialized in his normal form and all. Magik also loses the weightless form and dives straight down towards the former village head first. The goal? Save any bit of magic he may have left, return to smoke form just before grabbing the tendril, fly the newly acquired item towards Kas's projected path and snatch the freefalling guildsman before he splatters against the ground.

Kasyr's actually can't recall the last time his limbs had felt so heavy- or when his breathing had felt so laboured. It's enough that even the satisfaction he feels at the sight of the thing retreating is muted- more a world-weary acknowledgement that things had transpired. It's so encompassing that he almost feels like he's drifting- only for a shock of cold air to hit his face. Oh. He -is- drifting. At some point, Magik had released him, and now they were falling. Worse, their -prize- was getting away.

Instinctively, the swordsmans first impulse is to try and tap into that primal bastion of electrical energy- but it doesn't quite burgeon forth like it typically would. What he gets is a stuttering gasp of power- just enough that he can slow his perceptions down to properly take in the situation. And honestly, it didn't look good.

Even beyond the fall, there were compounding factors to take into account, like what his own coat will do to him on collision. While invoking Daedria's power would -likely- suffice in itself, there was no guarantee the ground wouldn't simply give way and -send him tumbling after the thing which had, according to their Demon Island Excursion, the capacity to thrall him.

It's this sense of desperation that has the Kensai reaching into himself, desperating searching for something that he can ignite- some untapped wellspring that was overlooked. And the image comes to his mind rather vividly- of how his connection to his lightning used to work, that rabid and altogether random consumption of his flesh in order to fuel it.

Only, when tries to grasp hold of that lighning- he's not greeted by a web of ravenous sparks. No, the source is certainly hungry- but it wells up from that residual wound which still festers in his chest. That blighted remnant of his disassociated vampiric essence, which had been kept in check by his communion with Daedria- until now. Unbidden, the wound begins to crack, both flooding his shirt with blood, and sending a fresh wave of vitae flooding up into his throat, until it begins to leak out from his mouth.

But, for the briefest of moment- he has a hold of it. With decisive violence- halo's of metal form about the descending tendril, rapidly coalescing into an array of floating swords. Blades which are abruptly used to impale the eldritch limb in mid-air and hold it just long enough for Magik to reach it.

It's one last emphemeral victory for the swordsman- and the point where his knowledge of events grow hazy, as his limp body continues it's earthbound descent.

Magik's breath was slow and steady as he hurled himself head first towards the ground below. He had one thing in mind..grab the tendril, poof, catch Kasyr. He kept repeating the new objective in his head over and over again as the temperature started to grow as he quickly approached the destroyed village. The tendril kabob was a most welcomed sight. Before Kasyr passes out, Magik snatches the tendril that threatens to fall into the chasm and immediately takes to his smokey form again. "I'm coming Kas.." The smokey elf rips through the sky to catch up to the free falling kensai. The smoke cloud quickly surrounds Kas just long enough for Magik to grasp his arm once more. The fatigue heavily sets in for the Lyastri as the black smoke starts to fade during the quick descent back towards the ground, "Oh no.." Magik knows he has to get to a relatively safe altitude before his mana runs out. With a tendril in one hand and a Kasyr in the other, Magik presses his shoulder to his earlobe for a quick call for help. Just in time too. With only ten or so feet to go, Magik's black cloud disappears and the two men are at gravity's mercy. The tendril is released to fall solo for the rest of the flight and Kasyr's unconscious self is pulled close to the elf's body. Tuck and roll, right? Magik does his very best to try and keep Kas from getting seriously injured during the unforgiving landing. The two men eventually roll to a stop after Magik makes a bunch of noise during the process. The elf is conscious just long enough to let out a simple, "Ouch," before taking a hint from Kasyr when it comes to just..ya know..take a forced nap.