Mini Event To See and Pray [OPEN TO ALL]
Kalt Ravenshire
Medic / Alchemist ☆ Monster Hunters Guild
Age: 30 | Height: 6’ 1” | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 2 - Strg: 9 - Dext: 24 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 5
KYSMA - Mythical - Unicorn (Superspeed)
Played by: Sage Offline
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#1
   He wanted nothing more than to be in the team that was about to take on the spire demon, but he and Ashetta were the only ones who Theea had. He was the toddler’s father, and unfortunately, his life belonged to her. He was no longer free to throw it around recklessly as he wished. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be there, though.

   Ashe, Ronin, Remi, and Roana… Three of the original four people who faced off against the creature were back at it, and he sat atop his ebony unicorn, who tossed her shiny mane. She was definitely not pleased to be there, and she and her rider sensed each other’s agitation.

   The assassin wasn’t going to miss this fight. Whether he was actively participating or not, Kalt was going to be there. He was a highly trained medic with healing magic, and he was madly in love with one of the people about to charge into this fight. Yes, he was going to fucking be there. He had given the sword Remi made for him to Ashe for this fight, hoping whatever weapons she had would help her, and Percy had super speed, just like Kysma. He knew she was as prepared as she could be for this fight, but fucking hells, that didn’t make this any less nerve-wracking.

   “Be smart, Ashe,” Kalt told her down the bond. “Don’t get yourself killed.” He was half expecting some snarky response to come back at him about her always being fine, but he meant it. He experimented with Isla on the demon’s fang with its venom, and he did his own research on it with Jigano and by himself. This wasn’t a creature to underestimate, so he was waiting just out of the way of the fighters for the quick access to a medic if they should need it – and he had a hunch that at least one of them would need some patching up.


KALT
Damned if you do;
Bored if you don’t.


Edrei Launceleyn
the Rapacious
Queen of the Hollowed Grounds / Rathskeller Owner ☆ Monster Hunters Guild
Age: 20 | Height: 5'7 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 21 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 3
BOBI - Regular - Bobcat
Played by: Odd Offline
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#2

"Oh hey, it's unicorn boy." The no-longer-teenager said with a wry grin, looking up at Kalt. With her arms crossed, Edy came to a halt nearish to Kysma. She was pretty sure that unicorns were supposed to be nice critters, but what use did a herbivore have for a 1ft+ long horn on its head? #askingtherealquestions, and so she gave the mare a respectful bubble of space. At her feet, Bobi flit around, pawing at grasshoppers that bounced and jumped around.

"So on a scale from 1 - shitshow, just how badly you think this is gonna go a second time around?"

Edrei
You know I talk too much
Honey, come put your lips on mine and shut me up
Evie Wordsworth
Apothecarist
Age: 26 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 0 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 1
Played by: Brit Offline
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#3

"This is a terrible idea." Evie whispers under her breath as she and Amalia make their way towards the assembling crowd. This sentiment is one that they've passed around like a hot potato for the past few days, but Evie didn't honestly believe that the Outlanders were really going to try and take on the beast. No snow, high sun or not, the demon had not been bested in over 300 years, and not for lack of trying.

Idly Evie chewed her lip, one of her hands worrying a strand of her long red hair. "Y'know, I think my brother is dating one of them." She said in a low voice, glancing around and wondering if Sam would show up or not. It was risky to be out in the sun, but Sam wasn't really the smartest man she'd ever met either.

With a shiver despite the fact that it wasn't cold at all, Evie looked behind them as if she could somehow see the barrier from where they stood. She couldn't of course, since they were basically at the centre, but it was as if she expected to see it warbling in its transparency. It didn't of course, but the worry was there. "What do they possibly think will happen? That they'll kill the beast and stroll up to the top of the Spire? Because Ludo said the answers were up there?" Dramatically Evie threw her hands up with a huff.

evie
Please don't ever become a stranger
whose laugh I could recognize anywhere
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker / Provost of the Loreseekers ☆ Loreseeker's Guild
Age: 21 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 7 - Strg: 23 - Dext: 23 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 26
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
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#4

Amalia nods in quiet agreement, though her eyes do not leave the assembled soldiers, the quartet of Outlanders on the pale field. They are ants, she thinks, bound together by a singular purpose, unaware they march to what may well be their doom. The spire looms monolithic before them, a testament to their foolishness: dark and menacing, hungry and absolute. She shivers despite the noonday sun, chewing her lip thoughtfully, a worried notch in her brow.

Why do they think they can do this, now? Defeat the spire monster, that ancient foe? And if they do- what then?, she wonders, remembering with a hungry ache the promise of a world beyond the walls. If the monster is killed and the bubble comes down, what will happen to that beautiful place she has never seen? Will it crumble and die, the way the Hollowed Grounds have, infected by a plague of hubris and pride? Why should the rest of Caido have to suffer, just so a few could be free?

(Don't we deserve to be free?)

Evie's declaration of her brother's relationship pulls the baker from her thoughts. "Oh?" she replies with quiet surprise, following her friend's gaze in hopes of finding Sam. Though she has spent significantly less time with the other Wordsworth twin, she still feels a pang of empathy: she would ache to see someone she cared about among the vanguard, be they Natural or Outlander. Ronin is kind, Remi sweet, but they are not the ones who matter most, the ones who have managed to wedge themselves into her heart. She casts her gaze around again, hoping to spot more people she knows among the assembled crowd. She wishes she could find Rory, or Deimos. She hopes they will not do something foolish and fight.

Amalia sighs and looks back at her friend, shaking her head again. "Vi alone knows," she replies bitterly, half angry, half hopeful, not sure whether to laugh or cry. "What if killing the monster doesn't change anything? What will this have all been for?"

(What if it changes everything? What will their freedom have cost?)

Amalia
Her eyes, they know too much.
She'll treat you like somebody but you just can't touch.
Rexanna Reyes
the Penumbra
Messenger / Diplomat ☆ Artist's Sanctuary Guild
Age: 26 | Height: 5'4" | Race: Ascended x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 4 Abandoned (Level 2 Ascended) - Strg: 19 - Dext: 14 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 9
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#5
REXANNA
there's a rotten flower in her mouth,
and a bullet hole in yours.
She had come to watch, to watch and see what would happen. Though deep down, the woman was terrified for her friends and those that had already suffered immense loss (she was looking at Ronin, wondering who was caring for his daughter and what would happen to her if things went bad). Sighing quietly, she approached and stood beside Amalia, glancing to the others – Kalt whom she hadn’t seen in eons, and Edy, and Evie (a woman she hadn’t quite met just yet). But Amalia had been friendly, and kind toward her. And so she drifted toward the woman with a dip of her head.

As Amalia began asking an almost rhetorical question, Rexanna chewed on her lip slightly. “The chance to say they tried? Tried to make it better for everyone within the bubble?” She pondered thoughtfully, and had Amalia been listening she might have noticed that the woman didn’t carry that flirtatious tone to her words any longer. Instead, sorrow and anxiety swelled within her stomach. “I suppose you never know unless you try.” She added, perhaps a bit quicker. Deciding that the Loreseekers would probably write about it if it went south – if killing the monster didn’t do anything.

At least then they’d know. But she hoped so deeply for the health of their friends and the luck they’d need. Her hand balled into a fist, and she pushed it to her side as she watched on.
beauty has always been deadlier,
than the battlefield you call home.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Rexanna, without killing her <3
Leatherworker
Age: 28 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 3 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 8
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#6
RORY
"Yeah, fuck that," a voice growled from behind Rexanna, Amalia and Evie. Rory's pulse was an angry roar in his veins, his face a tense scowl; his blue eyes flashed, dark and wild and dangerous. He did not like this. He hated this. He had spent so much time trying to accept, overcome, make up, had spent so much time trying to embrace the fact that the Outlanders were here to stay, that they would work FUCKING TOGETHER on overcoming the Demon.

And here they were. Doing their fucking Outlander thing again. And if he had the power to strike them all down and bind them to the ground and yell at them, oh boy, he would've, a thousand times over.

Rory was, in short, fucking pissed.

He'd come up behind Amalia and Evie as they made their way towards the Spire, and that was likely the reason they hadn't spotted him. And he hadn't greeted them, because it would've been a snarl, anger not directed at them but he had every spike turned out.

And this .. woman .. Rory didn't know her, because the time she'd let him into the Temple and saved his life, he had been more or less unconscious. He couldn't know if she was an Outlander or not, but the way she stood, the way she looked, the way she spoke

Oh, and the fact that Rory wasn't thinking, and was just looking for an outlet. A target. And she'd just painted it on her back.

He remembered standing in the fields at the Festival of Lights, his ritual invaded; corrupted. The noise that had been drifting up from the Rathskeller during Long Night. E v e r y t h i n g

"They just want out," he went on, his voice so much darker than usual as he tried to contain his anger, and his worry (come on Remi, you know better than this...). "They don't give a rat's ass about us here. They just see the great beyond and want out without a single fucking thought, like caged dogs." He wanted to pace. He was full of restless energy. "How long have they been here? Two seasons, barely? And already they've decided we are worthless, our way of life is worthless, everything about us is worthless, because they're willing to throw our safety away for their delusions of grandeur."

Had he had fur, it would've been on end. Had he truly been a wolf, his lips would've been pulled back, every fang revealed. "I thought this was something we'd figure out together, not just them having their fucking Outlander party. Sweet fucking Safrin," and even Rory had enough sense to shut up at that point, or he'd talk until the end-times.
as if you were on fire from within,
the moon lives in the lining of your skin.
burn scars crawl up the left side of his neck and onto the lower left half of his face
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Soldier / Mercenary ☆ Artisan's Guild
Age: 25 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 22 - Luck: 13
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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#7
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
He would’ve liked to be out there, streaking across a battlefield and slaying a monster. He would’ve liked to be somewhere doing something. But it was the constant influx of not enough dragging and clawing its way down his soul, his essence, and were he not wearing a mask of utter indifference, the world might’ve seen his frustration. The Reaper, and frankly, here, he hadn’t earned such a title and bearing the dubbing in his mind caused a stab of shame, walked across the boundaries and thresholds, gaze segmented on the incoming onslaught, on the pending doom and damnation (for who?), longing to be a part of methods to the madness. Why hadn’t they taken more individuals? Why not a crowd? Why not segments of warfare and melee? Why only four? His gaze flicked away, and to the fellow, gathered beasts, a calm approach layered in nothing; gaze drifting over those he knew, Rexanna, Amalia, and Rory, striding closer and closer to them as they threaded their opinions into the layers of ominous menace and malice.

What surprised him the most was Rory’s reactions: the raw anger, the building, brewing contempt, seizing and sizzling over Outlanders (they, lumping everyone, including him, including Rexanna, all together like they were lesser, like they were naught), over those who’d left them all behind. Rory had always struck him as tranquil, an equable force, but the heathen tilted his head, and addressed them all, reaching across the void, the abyss, of wrath and frustration – it was embedded in him too, but he made certain not to voice it - “What do all of you want?” It was genuine curiosity instead of incredulousness; because the quartet didn’t seem to care about the rest. What could they do in between the fighting and the vexation?


master of nothing place
of recoil and grace
Maea Valair
Farmer ☆ Loreseeker's Guild
Age: 23 | Height: 156 cm / 5'1 ft | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 3 - Strg: 13 - Dext: 15 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 8
Played by: Chan Offline
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#8
Maea
Big dreamers shoot for open skies
Maea winced at Rory's tone even before she got close enough to hear the words. She couldn't say he was wrong, or that his irritation was unwarranted. Perhaps her attitude towards the Outlanders was more forgiving - they had chosen to be here just as little as anyone born beneath the bubble - but it did not make it any easier to watch the small group of hopefuls as they made their preparations.

"Calm down, Rory, it's not her fault" Maea mumbled at the long-haired natural, an apologetic glance thrown towards Rexanna even as a pale hand reached up for his shoulder in hopes of soothing his bruised temper. "They are free to do  what they want with their lives, just as everyone else. It's not like none of our boys have never tried this..." Of course, those fools usually did not make it back. Or if they did, had chickened out before actually seeing anything.

Somehow though, the pale girl had a feeling it would be quite different this time around.

Looking from person to person, Maea nodded greetings to those she knew and offered quiet introduction to those that were unfamiliar. The smile she offered Evie and Amalia was tense and merely polite, and as soon as she could Maea turned her eyes towards the Spire insted. Coming here har not been a good idea. But if Jigano said it was their duty as loreseekers to whitness what happened now, then this was the place for her to be at this moment. She just hoped he would heed his own words and stay back with the rest of them.

"For everyone to stay alive" she answered Deimos. "For no one to get hurt. Of course we want the barrier to come down, but not at the expense of someones life."

Samuel Wordsworth
Book maker/seller ☆ Loreseeker's Guild
Age: 26 | Height: 5' 5" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural
Level: 5 - Strg: 19 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 19
MIA - Regular - Ragdoll Cat
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#9
















Sam arrived late. He had been hoping that if he stayed home it wouldn't actually happen, that he could stop time with ignorance...but that was not how it worked. Eventually he had had to pull himself from bed and head to the watching place.

He had to be there for the moment his world ended, if it had to.

When he did finally get there and saw the crowd of people he found he could not mix with them, could not speak. How could they all seem so casual? He wanted to scream and cry. He settled for sitting a little way aways from the crowd, head down on his raised knees. Close enough that he could hear the news of any deaths, if it came.

Samuel
I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind
All of these words
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Lorekeeper ☆ Loreseeker's Guild
Age: 28 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 9 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 25
ISUMA - Mythical - Gryphon (venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
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#10
Jigano had been out early, flying a perimeter around the Spire to check for any changes to the ground since the Deepfrost snows had melted, then pacing the safe zone as a fox to check for unusual scents or tracks. He had seen and smelled nothing to indicate that today was different from any other, and in the end he had returned to the Glade to change back to his human form in solitude and send a final prayer to Ludo. Gathering his medical bag and journal he had shouldered his burdens - both physical and spiritual - and set out to watch the promised attempt. The sun was already high, his prayers having taken longer than he had realized, and the four heroes had already gathered together, making their final plans.

A larger gathering some distance away, however, caught his eye, and as he walked closer - giving the Spire itself a wide berth - his trained eyes noticed the strain and tension flowing between people. They stood together, but he could pick out the subconscious shifting of naturals and outlanders into groups. Subtly he shifted his ears, Rory's impassioned voice reaching him as he walked softly, Isuma crouched on his shoulder, tense and unhappy with the fear and worry that ached in the bard's heart for the brave men and women about to risk themselves.

Sam looked the way he felt, but Jigano still took heart to see so many of the Loreseekers gathered - to witness, to record, to remember, whether in joy or sorrow or both - in spite of the danger and the personal difficulties each wrestled with as they watched. He arrived without words, though he reached out to brush the lightest of touches across Amalia's shoulder as he passed, an invitation to join him as he moved to stand beside Rory. Isuma peep?ed worriedly at the blond hunter's tone, but the white-haired man only reached up to soothe her before dropping his hand again, close enough to feel Rory's heat but not presuming to touch him when the blond was thrumming with tension and a need to let it out.

"I'm worried about them, too" he said softly, eyes for the four who prepared to face a threat that had taken the lives of natural and outlanders alike over the years.
Only simple tables without images or background colors when threading, please. It's much appreciated!
Evie Wordsworth
Apothecarist
Age: 26 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 0 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 1
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#11

"What if it changes everything?" Evie asks, glancing at Amalia and taking in a shallow breath. Like the rest of them, she keenly feels the weight of this. It will be a momentous moment either way, but it feels too fast. She's not been given enough time to think about all of this, and neither have the Outlanders.

Once upon a time Evie could not hear the anger in Rory's voice and see the wolf below his tanned skin without thinking of the last time they were really together. Of her family coming to collect her in a wagon, of stretching silences and the sweet smell of hay and how the air had been impossibly still as her first love had been snatched away from her. Once upon a time it was where her mind always went. Now though, all these years later, she can appreciate Rory's anger for what it is, and she stands slightly taller as she turns to look at him, the ocean-blue of her stare unwavering as she nods.

"Free to do whatever they want?" Evie hisses at Maea, tilting her head as if to indicate that the younger woman is wrong. That she is going against the group's grain and that she should rethink her words. "No, they aren't. This is reckless and impulsive. They know nothing of this land and our ways. They have two seasons of information at best, probably less." Glancing towards Amalia and Rory, Evie raises her chin slightly. "Do you think they'll expect a thank you?" She asks bitter and hurt, happily feeding off of Rory's anger. "A good try if it goes poorly?"

Watching as Jigano appears, standing closer to Rory than a friend might do, her eyes flashed a question up at her old friend. It had been nearly a decade since the summer they could talk without sound, knowing each other that well, but this moment had snowballed into an us vs. them, and here was Rory standing with that man who, like the others, immediately assumed he knew more of their world than the rest of them did. That they were all just hear to serve as appreciative puppets.

"Sam—" She hisses across the crowd, spying her idiot twin in his stupid hat and nodding her head to indicate that he should come and join them.

evie
Please don't ever become a stranger
whose laugh I could recognize anywhere
Samuel Wordsworth
Book maker/seller ☆ Loreseeker's Guild
Age: 26 | Height: 5' 5" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural
Level: 5 - Strg: 19 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 19
MIA - Regular - Ragdoll Cat
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#12
















The bickering and discussion going on barely reached Sam through the rushing in his ears, the endless horrific pantomime of dead Remi going through his mind. Would it be a bite from the demon? An accidental hit from a comrade? Would he be knocked down by some horrific force of magic none of them had prepared for? Whatever it would be Sam would not be there, would not hold his hand as he went into the night. Sam would be alone, and he would have failed.

Suddenly he heard his name hissed, so quietly he wasn't even sure he'd heard it. But still he looked up, catching eyes with Evie under the brim of his hat. Sam didn't know what she wanted, but whatever it was...he didn't have the capacity for it right now.

He shook his head and curled back up.

Samuel
I hear in my mind
All these voices
I hear in my mind
All of these words
Zariah Launceleyn
the Merciless
Former Queen of the Hollowed Grounds
Age: 25 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 21 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 10
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#13
ZARIAH
I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation
Zariah had been standing quietly in the shadows, watching, waiting, listening. Since the Launceleyn’s no longer had a well-defined place in society that was her usual pastime now. She was looking for opportunity, but around every corner found simple-mindedness and lack of direction. A pity really. This world had potential, even if everyone in it thought some fantastical gods existed, so deeply mired in mental delusion as they were.

Gods? Bah humbug.

But as she watched this little assault on the spire that was doomed to fail from its very conception, she couldn’t help but overhearing the whining of those gathered. It irked her, not because she particularly cared about the fates of those below, but more because it seemed rather self-indulgent. She straightened, stepping forward from the shadows where she had been quietly observing, arms crossed over her chest. ”Oh shut up. You all sound like whiny, self-indulgent children.” she said dryly, walking forward to get a better view of the fight, looking at no one in particular.

”How convenient is it, to assume the Outlanders think everything here so worthless? I don’t recall the Naturals being uninvited to parlay at the various meetings and gatherings that led up to this. I don’t recall hearing your voices pipe up to say why this is so wrong, or to explain what it is you know so we might collaborate. All I’ve heard is thinly veiled contempt for us, and yet I can say the same of you; you care not for us, or our way of life, or why it is so important for us to break through this barrier to see the great beyond.” Emotionless, hazel eyes slid over to look at Rory, someone she didn’t know and frankly didn’t care to know. ”You are not the only ones who know what it is like to live a life in a cage. Caido is not the only world surrounded by walls.”

Her gaze shifted over to the oddly pale girl, Maea, who spoke to soothe the man’s nerves. ”If you truly did not wish for people to die you would have said so many months ago when this was planned. I don’t think that is the truth though. I think you are covering your butts on this. Should they all fail and die, you are ever the altruistic Naturals who simply wished to see death sparred all as you continue to toil away in your cage. Should they win, you’d be jealous they steal the glory they will receive for their triumph.” Despite the enmity of her words, her tone throughout was calm and emotionless, impartial almost.

Zariah’s eyes moved back to the gather warriors on the field, ever stoic and emotionless as she stared. ”Two of those are former military leaders. Risking their lives for the masses is all they know or care for. One is a bit…unstable and has a history with the female with the claymore. Posturing surely is her reason for joining. And the fourth…well there is always at least one idiot in every merry band who feels his life is worthless and thereby a perfectly willing sacrifice.” she said with a shrug.

”So if you’re just here to bitch and moan, go home. The rest of us are interested in the outcome, regardless of where it leads.”

Age: 201 | Height: 5"9 | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Natural
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#14

I do not join the group. I linger on the fringe, watching, cheating my own faux-morality just by being here. But if this assault does not go as planned, then I have little to remain conscious for. Let the sun combust that which flows in my veins. I will sleep another few eons and then perhaps this charade will renew itself and we can try again. I do not feel hope, but perhaps some bastardized cousin of it.

108
mind is the echo of a future


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