Paradigm_Shift

First the drone came. That alone might not have been enough to unhinge Amatus - but catching a glimpse of an arrival falling out from the same portal - and therefore probably the same place - as he had added a little to the load. And then, after putting two and two together, Amatus watched the portal that had dumped them here snap shut.

He was so shocked that he simply stood there, stunned. The woman felt his grip loosen, and she took that as her cue to run into the relative safety of her apartment building. Amatus had turned to face the two, and while his face was mostly obscured by his gear, his eyes were filled with hurt confusion.

'Dimension? Hero intervention? Mediporters?' Amatus' mind wheeled with terms that it did not understand. Finally, he spoke - or rather, squeaked in a cracked and maddened sort of way.

"...What."

Also, forgot to add: Feel absolutely free to jump into any threads below marked as 'open rp.' It helps to read the first few posts to get a general idea of what is going on before you do so, of course. And when it comes to the mind-boggling, reality-shatteringly RP-Forum long-runners like the Whitmoore Apartments, you may wanna contact the thread OP or the most convenient person to ask them what the heck is going on. Bwerp knows, you could dry your eyes out and turn into a zombie before getting through over a thousand pages of posts. :P

Shorter, newer RPs are obviously easier to jump into. Toward this end, I would recommend looking into this RP here. It is brand spanking new and looking for more.

Ah. Well.

First, I would suggest going here. It should get you back up to speed with recent history. See anything you do not recognize/remember? Follow the handy link and/or enter a search term and read all the assorted information involved.

Sadly, while the wiki is comprehensive, there is a lot of information which gets lost in the bigger scheme of things. You want to know more about the workings of Malta's Titans? There happens to be a couple of missions with information you will want, but they are going to be hard to find just by looking at Malta's villain-group profile. Fortunately, a lot of villain-groups have their own individual lore pages separate from their profile, so if you do not mind spoilers, you can get comprehensive info on the group history and major events, if not the individual nit-picks.

For said nit-picks, you can read the mission info - but again, these are sometimes hard to find. If you feel a burning urge to do so, I would recommend looking up Task and Strike Force information, and then from there looking up related regular contact information and associated story arcs.

If you want to consult a lore nerd, I would recommend contacting one of us RP forum-goers via PM with the fine-detail questions.

Alternatively, as an absolute last-ditch attempt, you can play the game. ^.^

Two years, ye say? Well, I have some recommend reading for you to catch up on!

The Second Rikti Invasion and Vanguard
The Return of the 5th Column and Reichman
Ouroboros and the Coming Storm
Incarnates
The Praetorian Revamp and Praetoria the game and Praetoria the world-lore and Praetoria Praetoria Praetoria. In case you did not notice Going Rogue, it is somewhat big now. :/

As for 'how to' tidbits? Well, there is no correct way to RP. Generally the rules can be boiled down to such:

No god moding (No pulling information you have no access to from nowhere, no attacks which hit automatically unless it is for a really good reason, no being completely indestructible or all-powerful etcetera.) A good rule of thumb here: If you can do it in the game, you can do it here - and within reason, you can twist and bend the rules if it makes sense. Sure, you can cast ally-specific buffs on yourself, and sure, powers with normally insane recharge times can be a bit more available.

No auto - Related to the above, no forcing actions. Whatever you put on the table? Everyone else gets to play with it before they decide what it does.

No being a jerk - Really simple. A character can be a jerk, that is just the character, but as a player behind a character you should try get along with everybody. If you have to deal with a complete psychopath, on the other hand, there is this helpful /ignore feature...

Canon is canon. No saying you married Ghost Widow and then completely healed Wretch. On the other hand, RP canon is rather mutable as long as you have permission...

And also: Proper grammar. An honest mistake is an honest mistake, we do not enforce 100% gud spelng heruh. But at least write legibly. (Does not look like that will be a problem. ^.^)

This applies to both forum and online RP. Are you having trouble? Flabbergasted by something somebody else said? Just ask yourself: What would charactername do? Just go with what seems natural and it should all work itself out. And talking to strangers? There is nothing but strangers out there, I am afraid. If you hear something going on in local, feel free to jump in if you see a point of entry. A lot of RPers use private messaging. If you suspect they are, shoot one of them a PM asking if you can join in.

That being said, welcome back, and welcome to the RP forum. We have been expecting you.

Part ll

The Blessing of An

The Island of Mu, somewhere in the Mid-Atlantic

Lilitu idly clacked her talons against one of the many blood-stained skulls that made up her hastily constructed throne. It was over. The Circle of Magic had been rent to the last child. They were now just listless spirits in the halls of Oranbega. The Mu were all but eradicated, and all that was left for her to do was return the island to the sea from whence it came. And for a moment Lilitu shifted uncomfortably upon her throne. The island of Mu was home to many sleeping secrets, and the Leviathan was the least of those particular worries. Lilitu remembered the days of old, when the Earth had just cooled but before life had begun to form. Back when the Coralax had been created...

Lilitu cleared her mind of such things. She had no reason to worry - She had just made off like a bandit with the deaths of tens of millions of human lives, and that thought brought a cruel smile to her lips as she gazed out into the horizon, and the sight of the rising sun. With it Baphomet, the oldest and most feared of the demon lords, highest and most powerful general of the Infernal King and commander over the entirety of the Infernal Host, came. A massive beast who towered even next to the mighty fortress Lilitu had just sacked, his wings did not flap - rather, he seemed to glide on unseen winds, the very air seeming to burst into flame in his wake. He landed on the ground with a great thunderous crack, his cloven hooves shattering rock and then glassing the remains as relentless hellfire washed over the ground. He approached Lilitu's throne, but unlike any other demon, he did not kneel before it. He did not even bow. She may have ruled one of the planes of Hell, but there was only one being Baphomet held any allegiance to.

<Our work upon this world is done.> He spoke, his words not created by any form of organ, but by the flickering of hellish flames. <I have heard from many of my commanders. The city of Oranbega is devoid of life, and nary a drop of blood has gone unaccounted. The bloodline of Ermeeth the Divine has been eradicated.>

<I recall you saying the same of the bloodline of Mu'Rhakmet. I doubt our master will find any humor within your words as I do if you are wrong. We will not depart from this world until you have heard from all of the host.> Lilitu spoke with a voice that was somehow silky, icy, playful and yet wrought with malice.

<Only my master's favor stays me from removing your head. When the last of my commanders has reported to me, I may well remove it regardless.> Baphomet did not move, but his aura of hellfire bristled with anger. <If I declare something, it is - If I say the Mu are gone, they are gone. If I say the Circle of Magic has been eradicated, it is so. I tolerate your insults on a whim.>

<Of course.> Lilitu purred, propping her feet up upon the arm of her throne of skulls. <If you are done posturing, who has yet to return from their conquest?>

<Not many. Caleb has told me of many that are flying here as we speak. Unaccounted, there is Tyrkis, who diverted his legion in order to aid the spectrals hunt down the mage Akarist. Paralis chased down several fleeing refugees, and is therefore further away than his brethren. Mesanis encountered especially heavy resistance, and is only now returning. Lastly there is Zenarusk, who was sent to purge various smaller outposts.>

Once he had finished speaking, an odd ringing noise filled the air. Seconds later, a large glass bottle shot out from the sky and smashed into Baphomet's head. The pebble contained within went brittle and then cracked, releasing the sealed envoy right atop Baphomet.

***

Some distance away...

Anhil handed his brother the wagered scroll from his private collection as they watched the scene through a scrying pool.

<I find myself unconcerned that I lost our wager. What we just saw is still enough to keep me warm once death has laid its icy grip upon me.> He said, and then started to laugh uncontrollably.

***

The Infernal Realm

An insatiable darkness rested upon the throne before which both Lilitu and Baphomet bowed. It did not speak. One of the court stepped forward to speak for it. <We will know why you failed to purge the entirety of Ermeeth's bloodline.> The behemoth spoke very carefully, ensuring that only what the darkness intended to be said was said. If any fault could be found in what was heard, the court would soon be minus one member.

<The last of the Circle of Magic dwell within a secluded outpost, your majesty...> Baphomet also spoke carefully, for similar reasons. The Infernal King did not take failure lightly, and did not take excuses at all. What came next would have to be said in a very specific way to avoid invoking its wrath. <They fully repelled the legion sent to destroy them, and then hid themselves from our senses. Locating them would be a trifling matter, but we have assessed that it would be better to just wait for them to die out naturally...>

This did not please the darkness upon the throne one bit. Several pillars of hellfrost began to form cracks, and frost began to form over the various nearby lava pits. Everything was about to go to hell - literally.

<Which is to say-> Lilitu suddenly cut in, quickly and only with the tiniest hint of desperation, <we further decided to leave the outpost be, as the remaining number of Ermeeth's bloodline is now equal to that of Mu'Rhakmet. The contract we made with the humans is, from a technical standpoint, still open - if we were to destroy the last of Ermeeth's bloodline, we would be left without a way to return to that world again without bargaining with the Mu, who will not tolerate us. We found it safest to leave them alive, keeping the contract and therefore access to their world open. Eventually the remnants will die off naturally, and since the contract would only expire if we were to claim their souls their world will forever be in your clutches. And if they do not die off, they have no way of knowing the contract is still open. One way or the other, you have come out on top, my lord.>

A great silence filled the air.

And then everybody relaxed as the darkness settled.

<We are most pleased with your decision.> The court demon struggled to not squeak the sentence out in his anxiety, remaining calm. Both Baphomet and Lilitu internally sighed with relief at having narrowly escaped punishment.

Little did they know, Lilitu's gambit would come back fourteen thousand years later to bite them in the ***.

***

Aanepada, Island Blessed by An, Overview Island, two years later...

Ishme took a deep breath and scowled. <Stale.> He said. He and Enki were standing on the balcony of his personal quarters in the North-Eastern cavern wall overlooking the central courtyard. <And every day it grows staler still. A guide ran to me yesterday with a message from one of the lower librarians, and he was begging for breath for more than two minutes, though to my eye he was perfectly fit. What is happening to our fair Aanepada?>

Enki spoke. <I am not sure. There are many accounts from explorers of the Ruin-caste that report of a malady seen only within the depths of the Earth which robs the living of their breath, but none of our Gula-caste mages have detected any portents of disease within the people.>

<Likewise, none of my fellow practitioners have detected any rot or decay.> Ishem replied, returning to his abode through the balcony's archway. It was a dark chamber, with many queer, whispering tomes, urns full of ashes and assorted bones strategically placed throughout, as befitting a Ninurta-caste mage. <Your brother appears to be late - as is befitting of him, though I suppose it would do no harm to ask you my intended questions while waiting for him. You indicated that this malady is only seen underground. Would it be possible to create a passage to the surface?>

<Absolutely not.> Anki exclaimed immediately. <Even the smallest of gaps in the rock between Aanepada and the surface could be exploited by demons, and as you said yourself last time we met - they still roam the halls of Oranbega.>

<What about a portal, then?> Ishme asked, reaching into a small pot on one of his desks and withdrawing crushed essence of jasmine, scattering it into the air of the room.

<No, for the same reason. The only protection we have from the demons is a solid, unbroken shell all about us. And even that is not enough alone - if not for the fog above obscuring the traces of magic we give off, the demons would be able to find us anyway.> Enki said, now sounding somewhat exasperated.

<That does not make much sense. What of of our spring? You cannot possibly tell me that it is fed by a source residing purely underground, and leading to another purely underground end?> Ishme asked incredulously.

<It is and does.> Enki said simply. Ishem gave him a very long, steady look full of disbelief. <This is no elaborate jest, I assure you!> Enki said hurriedly. <The various underground cavern systems along the entire coastline are some of the most bizarre natural structures ever documented by the Ruin-caste, even before Oranbega was sunk beneath the Earth. There are so many formations along our specific tip of mainland that it is a mystery how the entire realm does not collapse for lack of support!>

<I will be asking fellows of your caste to confirm that. It rather sounds like your brother is beginning to rub off on you.> Ishme declared.

<Why should I now? It has only been some three score years we have been brothers.> Enhil waved to them cheerfully as he hovered in from the balcony. <Sorry I am late. Alejas' son created an uproar this morning. Apparently he can fire Gula essence from his gullet much like an arrow from a bow.>

<Gula essence? His age aside, what did he use as a foci?> Ishme asked inquisitively.

<Presumably his own vomit.> Enhil settled down to the ground. <Madness, no? But apparently all our Gula-castes think it makes perfect sense.>

<No matter, we must concentrate.> Ishme said, holding up a hand. <As I was just saying to your brother, the aether seems...ah...> He sniffed again. <...Is it trickery of the mind, or does the air seem fresher now?>

<You did just scatter jasmine a moment ago.> Enki pointed out.

<That I did, though it usually is not so effective...> Ishme said, looking thoughtful for a moment before he snapped back to his normal, passive-faced self. <No mind. Enhil, your brother and I have reason to believe there is a malady amongst our people which robs the living of breath. Neither our Gula nor Ninurta-castes can detect any malady within the people. Is there anything amiss in the aether?>

<Well that is peculiar...> Enhil said, a lazy grin on his face as per usual. <I had noticed that more of our lazy guides seem out-of-shape than is normal, but no. The aether, as far as I can tell, is as it should be.>

<Perhaps it is a curse of sorts?> Enki suggested.

<Powerful enough to affect all the cavern, yet remain hidden to us, and cast without us knowing when there are only four mages skilled enough - three of whom stand within this room - to do such a thing?> Ishme shook his head before heading over to one of his numerous bookshelves. <I think not. I shall consult the spirits of those long since passed to see if any possess the knowledge we require. As you are Aanepada's head researchers, I want you to focus your attentions fully upon this matter. I sense this threat has been hanging over us for some time, which in itself may begin to run short.>

***

Elsewhere...

I turn inward, I focus my mind, my will is strong and firm - I feel my closed fists, and with barely any effort they suddenly seem to course with power. I feel my dry skin, and with a thought it is harder than stone. I feel the calm pulsing of my mind, and as I will it, I am shielded. I turn inward, I focus my mind, my will is strong and firm -

Something is missing.

I have long since grown use to the absence of my aura. Where once I used my essence to project my desires, I have now mastered using naught but my own will to command my frail body. My bones are stiff, my joints sore, my vision dark, I hear only silence...But with the barest of efforts...

I turn inward, I focus my mind. I hear the crying of Alejas' son across the cavern. I see a crumb of bread lying forgotten. I am stronger than the mighty Coralax who dwelt within the seas of past. My body is more resilient than the rock beneath which we hide.

My will is strong.

But...something is missing. There is a shortness of breath. The parts of me - the parts I feel, infinitesimal and countless, when I focus as deeply as I can - They feel tense. They feel empty. They scream for something I cannot comprehend - I question them. I question my body. What is it starving for that is not being provided? The answer is merely more screaming.

Nomaris opened his eyes. He was in his room. Previously, it had been grand and ornate, as befitting a mediator of the Circle of Magic. After the event two years ago, when an icy prince of the abyss had shred his essence, he had returned to his home and found the decor...unnecessary. It was completely bare now, the Will-mage not even requiring a bed. Comfort was a thing of the past, and the needs of his new, emotionless body were few. Were Nomaris capable of feeling confusion, or of being puzzled, he would have been both. But now, he responded merely as one would when tired, or hungry or thirsty. His body cried out to be cared for, and he tiredly responded. Only now, he did not know what it craved.

Nomaris opened his eyes.

'I shall consult the other three...' He thought, directly and without any other side-thoughts or random ideas interfering. He did not mentally think anything unless he firmly decided and made a concerted effort to do so. 'One of them should know. I shall go to the gardens. I know one of them is always there.' He got up, and left the barren, unlit room.

***

Enki paced furiously up and down the long rows of Aanepada's garden. The hall had previously been intended to be another library, but after the way to Aanepada had been shut there was no need for such a thing. Enki and the other resident Ruin-caste mages had stirred the earth and turned it to dirt, planting some seeds from the stores and alternately willing plant-life into being. After two years of being cared for by very bored mages with nothing to do aside from gardening, the dull brown hall was now a resplendent place filled with bushes, shrubs, flowers, grass and even a few saplings.

While all of his fellows knew well of reports regarding the breath-stealing plague, none knew anything of it save that it only occurred underground, and that going back aboveground seemed to cure it. But that particular option was not available to them. Some of the mages had decided to perform experiments with sealed chambers and volunteered Guides, but Enki did not suspect this would lead to any discoveries. In fact, Enki had given up entirely, and was now planning for the worst case scenario.

'We can use our magicks to dig toward the source of the spring. Then we can travel through the caverns until we can travel no more, and then resurface. With fortune, we will hopefully be too distant for the demons to sense us...'

<Enki.>

The Ruin-mage turned about, startled, and was greeted by the dull and flat zombie eyes of Nomaris.

<Gah! Your sudden appearance was unforeseen, mediator!> He said anxiously. <It is rare to see you outside of your quarters. What brings you to the gardens?> He then waited patiently. After his battle with the demon prince, Nomaris had not been the same - for one thing, he always took a few moments to respond to anything asked of him. It was as if the man had trouble remembering that he was having a conversation, and that he had been asked a question, and that language existed.

This particular pause was longer than usual.

<There was a hunger.> Nomaris said finally in his regular flat voice.

<...I do not fully comprehend what you mean.> Enki said, careful to remain polite to his friend and previous mentor.

<There was a hunger.> Nomaris repeated. <I did not comprehend this hunger. I came to this place to consult you. Now that I am here, the hunger is gone.>

<...I think I understand...Have you had Ishme examine your essence recently?> Enki asked, a spark of hope for his friend igniting. <This hunger you speak of could very well have originated from what remains of it. It could be healing.>

<No.> Nomaris said flatly. <I can sense my essence. It is tattered no less than it was before.

<Well...ah...do you still require anything of me?> Anki asked. Then, a thought occurred to him. <No, wait. Actually, if you do not need anything else, I have something I need to ask you.> He quickly explained the breath-stealing plague to Nomaris.

<That was the hunger.> The mediator said finally. <I had a shortness of breath before I came to consult you.>

<Before you...? But this malady should be everywhere by now, not constrained to just a part of Aanepada!> Enki exclaimed. <Just taste the aether, it...is...stale?> As the Ruin-mage tasted the air, he saw that it was not so. It was fresh and sweet, like he remembered wistfully from when Oranbega had been above the Earth, rather than below it.

<The aether is fresh.> Nomaris said simply.

<This malady cannot be a natural thing, then.> Enki said darkly. <It must be a spell of some sort. That is why we did not detect it...It was not large, nor perhaps even a single spell but many at once. Somebody must be enchanting Aanepada one place at a time.> Nomaris did not respond to this. He did not see the need to - it was not like he could add anything meaningful to the statement. <I must go and tell the others of this. Do you require anything else?>

<No.>

With that, Enki left the gardens in search of Ishme and Enhil. Nomaris stayed where he was. Though the mediator could no longer feel emotion, the frayed remants of his aura stirred faintly amongst the greenery of the gardens. It was just enough to make him sit off to the side and simply take everything in, for a moment.

***

Ishme's Quarters...

<It is some relief to know that this is not a natural catastrophe.> Ishme said. <But it is much more worrisome to think that one of our own is poisoning the aether. Our worst enemy is discontent - the people must be kept content, or they will riot and Aanepada will not survive. If someone is out there sowing discontent through foul sorcery, we must find them.>

<I will retrieve the head of the Guides.> Enhil said. His seemingly perpetual smile was absent now, after almost two years of being glued firmly in place. <We can have every arrow's length of space scrutinized for unrecognized enchantments.> He ran out to the balcony and flew off into the courtyard.

<We should also determine who is doing this.> Ishme declared, walking out to the balcony to look over the courtyard and the retreating Enhil. <We cannot very well go and question every citizen, however. Do you know of anyone who would want to do such a thing?>

<Not intentionally, no.> Enki said. <But I do know of a few students who are both curious and foolish enough to attempt creative magicks without telling anyone first.>

<I make a habit of knowing every student to pass through our humble library by the manner of their speech and the color of their eyes. I think I can have a quiet word with the more likely suspects without raising undue concern.> Ishme said, nodding.

<Ishme. I have been thinking. If we cannot solve this problem->

<We will.> Ishme cut Enki off. <We do not have a choice in the matter. Our students are not the only ones I know well, Enki. I can guess at your thoughts, and I see the idea of fleeing these earthen halls. It is not possible. While some may be attracted to the notion, many will want to stay. We would have to leave them behind. I studied the cavern systems you spoke of earlier - you should know better than I how inhospitable they are. We cannot live in them, and we certainly cannot go and build a new outpost from nothing, even with our great magicks. And we cannot return to the surface - we never can. The demons are restless and single-minded, and the moment we are no longer hidden within the depths of the earth, they will fall upon us and slaughter us to the last. There is no running. There is no seeking shelter elsewhere. You should have known this two years ago, the moment it was decided to shut the way to Aanepada. Stay silent - I will not hear more of this from you.>

Several minutes passed quietly, save for the sounds of the daily bustle in the courtyard. Finally, Enhil returned, flying through the air with the head Guide, Ekur, at his side. After taking a few moments to explain the situation to him, he spoke.

<That is all well and good, my lords...But if you would allow me to speak for a moment, I have some news. The Guides, as keepers of the peace here in Aanepada, keep an eye on those whom we deem could potentially disrupt the peace. There is a woman by the name of Inna. She has never approved of sealing off Aanepada, and used to be somewhat vocal about her opinion. We managed to convince her to keep her words within her head, but there is no doubt in my mind that she would do something like this in an effort to force you to act - she is as amoral as Lilitu herself, although she hides it well.>

<If this is so, then on my authority I give you heed to apprehend her at your leisure.> Ishme said gravely. <Do attempt to be subtle, and do not harm her. Inform us once it has been done, for I would like to question her personally. It is to my shame that I did not know of her before - I pride myself on knowing the people I help to govern, and that a single person amongst my charges would hold ill intent for Aanepada...it is unforgivable on my part.> He bowed his head as he spoke.

<Of course, my lord.> Ekur replied diligently, carefully appearing to be unphased by Ishme's words. <It shall be done. I shall also need the permission of the head researchers...> He bowed slightly in Enki and Enhil's direction. <To borrow some of their fellow mages in order to check the halls for errant magicks...>

***

The next day...

Aanepada, like many other Circle of Magic outposts, had been built with a prison of green crystal and earthen pillars. Inna now sat within one, awaiting somebody to arrive and question her. Her desire was granted, for three hours after she had been thrown in, Ishme arrived. The Ninurta mage stepped through the barrier of green energy without resistance - he was the master of this place, and it would heed his will.

<Are you Inna Shulgi?> He asked calmly. It was here his constantly passive expression came in handy. Inna would not be taking any cues from his expression unless she managed to catch him off guard.

<I am. And you are Ishme Inodor, high mage of the Ninurta caste, imprisoner of the innocent and false king of the people of Aanepada.> Inna spat contemptuously. Ishme did not bat an eye.

<We have no kings. As far as imprisoner of the innocent, I have no way of knowing. I try to be fair in our rulings, and I try to only imprison those whom I deem deserve it, or those whom I deem are a danger to the peace. But I am by no means omniscient, and I admit that I have no way of knowing personally that every decision for imprisonment I have made was correct.> Ishme spoke fluidly and with a strange grace and charisma that seemed impossible coming from his passive expression. <Which brings us to why you are here. Some time ago, we discovered several errant spells spread amongst the courtyard and halls, all laced with ill intent. As of today, they have all been dispelled, and our specialists traced all of them back to you. Hence your imprisonment - do you have anything you wish to say in your defense?> The entire thing was a lie, of course. The guides had found no errant spells (they had not even gotten half-way through sweeping the halls) and consequently, no attempts at tracing them to a caster had been made. Unknown to Inna, a Will-caste mage was at the base of the crystalline cell's pillar, examining a shifting magical rune. He would easily be able to discern any falsehood from the woman should she utter any.

<All I know...> Inna said slowly, <Is that you are a power-hungry fool. You are afraid that some day, the people you have trapped here will realize there is no future here. That they will realize they are being deceived and controlled by a madman, a control-seeking manipulator, a soulless monster, and a petty beast who lashes out at anybody he thinks has slighted him.> She stared at him with defiant and hate-filled eyes.

Ishme's face remained passive and calm, but he was somewhat surprised. Ekur had not told him the woman had ever spoken against him personally - the mage below had not sent him any mental signals, so she had not been lying either. The spell only identified lies if they were spoken aloud though - and it was possible that what she said had squirmed through a loophole. Oranbega was not a perfect language, after all.

'This may take some time...' Ishme thought annoyedly. <Why did you cast the spells that we discovered?> He asked calmly.

***

Some time later

Ishme emerged from the crystalline prison and approached the awaiting Ekur. <She did and knows nothing. Release her, but keep an eye on her. If she decides to spread word that somebody is enchanting the halls with spells of ill intent, I want her to be reminded that it is our job to keep the peace, even if that means imprisoning her indefinitely.>

***

The Courtyard of Aanepada, two days later...

<My men have not left an urn unturned, a book unshelved or a grain displaced. Aside from a rather disturbing infant who vomited Gula essence on my lieutenants' robes, there is not a trace of errant magic at work in all of Aanepada.> Ekur said, walking alongside Ishme as they strode through the courtyard. <As an aside, people are beginning to complain of having trouble breathing. Thus far, we have assured them that a rather unskilled student accidentally scattered replicating sand with aether magic, and that we were in the process of fixing the problem.>

Ishme sniffed at the air and grimaced. <The aether does seem less fresh even than it was some days ago. Also, do not tell Enki about your 'replicating sand.' He would know better, but he might mention it in passing to his brother, who would then mention it in passing to Enki's students as a joke. Have your men keep searching for a day, and I want you to start monitoring the people for unrest.>

Ekur acknowledged the request and broke off, heading elsewhere while Ishme continued to walk through the courtyard toward the gardens. Now that the Ninurta-caste mage was paying attention, he noticed that his breath was very rapid.

<Damn this malady...> He said under his breath, grimacing as he tasted the air once more. And then, suddenly, he stopped and inhaled deeply again. The air was sudden fresh...

<Greetings Ishme.> Enhil said cheerfully from directly behind him, having hovered noiselessly into position. Ishme was used to such after having worked with him personally for two years though, so he kept walking. <Still no luck with the plague that robs people of breath and dries out their skin, making them look old?>

<It does?> Ishme said, surprised.

<Oh yes.> Enhil said, smiling as usual. <Many people with wrinkled skin have come to me lately to complain of shortness of breath, which obviously indicates that everybody is aging as a result of the plague. Or that younger, fitter peoples simply do not mind nor notice as much.>

<This is no time for such poor jests.> Ishme snapped. <Why, just before you arrived I noticed I was having trouble breathing.> He paused for a moment. <...Right before you arrived. Enhil, Ekur has a message for you. Please go to him and then come right back, he is heading for the cavern of isolation as we speak.> He pointed at the distant retreating figure.

<Very well.> Enhil cheerfully drifted off. Ishme waited patiently, while also carefully continuing to taste the air. It was still fresh and sweet. As Enhil got further away, it became stale once more. Ishme was wary, however. That did not necessarily mean much. It was up to what happened when Enhil returned that mattered...

And very soon, he came drifting back. <Are you sure you have not stared for a little too long at Nomaris' eyes, and had your mind baked?> Enhil asked jokingly. <Ekur did not have anything to say.> Ishme inhaled deeply. The air was fresh once more.

<I think I have made a discovery...> He began.

***

The gardens of Aanepada, a few hours later...

<...And so we tested the theory with me and a few of my fellow An-castes.> Enhil said cheerfully. <We are certain - or at least everyone besides us An mages, since the aether is always fresh to us apparently - that the aether is pure around us as a result of our mastery of such.>

<I imagine that this makes all of you worth of new titles then.> Enki replied. <All An-caste mages from now on may add, 'Passer-of-purest-winds' to their names.>

There was silence.

<Was that a jest? From you?> Ishme said, horrified at the thought of two Enhil's running around.

<Perhaps I am rubbing off on you, dearest brother, oh magus of poo.> Enhil said approvingly with a wink.

Enki had a single confused moment filled with equal parts pride and shame before coughing and then returning to the matter at hand.

<...So the aether is always fresh whenever a mage of the An-caste is present?> He asked.

<Apparently so. Here, we shall show you.> Ishme said confidently. <Enhil, go a ways off, if you would.>

<If you start using this as an excuse to get rid of me at your convenience, I will never forgive you.> Enhil said, still smiling before he walked off. Ishme and Enhil waited. The air was fresh. They waited. The air stayed fresh. They waited some more...

<...Are there any of An-caste mages around?> Ishme asked, looking around.

<Not that I know of...> Enki said slowly. <Are you very sure about what you said?>

<We ran numerous tests.> Ishme said, affronted and confused. <In varying places, with many different guides. I am sure.>

Enhil walked back and heard Ishme speak. <What, it did not work this time?> He asked.

<No...> Ishme said, thinking. <Very well...Enki, come with us outside the gardens for a moment.> All three left the gardens and emerged in the courtyard.

<And now...> Ishme said, <Enhil, I suddenly want you gone. We need to test how fresh the aether is whenever you are not passing pure winds!> He exclaimed dramatically.

There was silence again.

<Ok, I did have expectancies for my brother, but that was just scary hearing a jest from you.> Enhil said, smiling in a sad way. <I will just walk off a ways and we can imagine that fate never deigned this moment to occur.> He walked off.

Ishme tasted the air. <Aha! There! The aether is stale once more! Do you see, Anki?>

<That I do...> Anki said after a few experimental breaths. <Although it is odd...What could be in the gardens that makes the aether fresh? The only thing in there that is not elsewhere is would...be...the...plants...> He drifted off as he finished speaking.

<Now that is interesting.> Ishme said ponderously. <Of course, if you, a Ruin-caste mage, does not know how that is supposed to work, the chances are that nobody will.>

Enhil returned. <So, has it been concluded that every citizen of Aanepada is required to learn An-caste magic?> He asked, waggling his eyebrows. <Because I do not have any objections to such a proclamation.>

<Even taking that query seriously for a brief moment, we do not have enough time to teach everybody - especially the unaligned - in the arts, and we have no idea what level of knowledge is sufficient to produce the aether-purifying effect.> Ishme said, thinking hard. <And I doubt we have enough time to grow enough plants to fill the entire courtyard. We are still no closer to an answer to stopping the plague.>

<Perhaps not, but at least we have a way to ward it off in the distant future.> Enki said in a consolatory way.

<In any case, I promised I would met with Alejas' wife today. Ephidel is in that stage where his magical signature is fluctuating, and she wants me to try and determine what caste he will align with.> Ishme said in a resigned way.

<Ah, well you are in luck at least. She is right over there by the spring.> Enhil said, pointing out to a figure sitting on a stone bench in the distance. <My brother and I need to have a few words. I think we can arrange some cross-caste testing to study the plague.>

<A sound plan.> Ishme agreed. <Farewell.> He then walked away toward the figure in the distance.

<Adani, it is good to see you well, and Ephidel as well.> Ishme said, attempting to relax somewhat in the presence of Alejas' wife and son once he reached them. <I do believe you called for me?>

<Yes. Ephidel has been having the oddest fluctuations...Did you know, he set a rock on fire, and then froze his soup? I am forced to be very cautious with him, least he damages something of value.> She said in an exasperated manner. <If you could examine him and tell me when I should stop worrying about everything and start worrying about just the one element, I would greatly appreciate it.>

<Of course. If I may see him...? Thank you.> Ishme said, taking the bundled infant from Adani. He already had an inkling of an idea what the child would grow to be. To set a rock on fire, a mage would have to use the rock itself as a foci for the spell, which would suggest Ruin-caste alignment. But it then occurred to Ishme that fire, even magical fire, still needed fuel. Unless a mage was aligned with the An-caste, and would be able to simply will the fire to burn regardless.

'Could he be...aligned to the Utu-caste?' Ishme thought abruptly. 'Able to freely manipulate all the forces of creation...? Alejas was Utu-caste...And blood does carry power...'

Suddenly, the infant made a small brapping noise. <Quick, turn him away!> Adani said suddenly. <He is about to vomit!>

<Ah...> Ishme quickly turned him away. 'Vomiting' does not accurately describe what happened next. 'Life-force in projectile form' would be more accurate. A bolt of Gula-infused vomit shot across the courtyard toward an unsuspecting student, who with an aside glance, realized what was about to happen and cringed.

The vomit halted in mid-air. There was a soft sighing sound, and the gooey mass exploded as the wind tore the mass apart and dispersed it harmlessly. In the distance, Anhil lowered his arm smugly.

<Well. That was rather dramatic.> Ishme said irritatedly. <I have been told he has done this before. Is it always so violently?>

<I am afraid so.> Adani said in an embarrassed tone. <I think it is the aether - some idiot student went and scattered replicating sand...>

Ishme inhaled the air once more and grimaced by reflex - only to shockingly discover the air was entirely fresh. It has not been so moments ago before Ephidel had performed his vomiting act. What did it mean...?

<This may sound odd to your ears, but...Ah...Is there any way to make him do that again?> Ishme asked awkwardly.

***

Some time later...

<You may begin.> Ishme said, nodding to the Gula-caste mage in front of him. He bowed, and then brought his hands together. Life energy gathered into a glowing ball, and then the mage hurled it into the distance of the courtyard. The waiting Enhil, some distance away to prevent his aether-purifying aura from disturbing the results of the experiment, raised a hand and scattered the Gula-essence with magical wind. It had been a pure fluke the first time - Enhil had conjured the whirlwind, deciding to dis-spell both physical matter and magical power on a whim. The vomit, suffused with Gula-essence, had dispersed. And somehow, magically, the air had become pure.

The Gula-essence faded as it was dispersed into the air of the cavern. Ishme breathed in deeply.

<...The aether is pure.> He said, showing a rare smile.

***

They ran several more experiments, eventually managing to reduce the entire routine down to basic technique, at which point they melded it into a basic spell capable of being learnt by both the Gula and An castes. Little did anybody know, 14,000 years later, many super-beings with storm-summoning abilities would come up with something similar. They would call it 02 Boost.

And in the end, Enhil and Nomaris had a brief communion before the spring below the Nexus of Aanepada, and together, using magic of both Gula and An caste, they cast a permanent cavern-wide enchantment, so that the air would forever be fresh and sweet as though they were aboveground.

And everyone within Aanepada once again knew the blessing of An, to breath deeply, and to breath in life.

End of Part II

Somewhere, sometime, on an apparently 'haunted' island.

'Though truly, it is nothing but INFURIATING.' Amatus thought darkly as he peered out toward the sea, and the ship sailing away - leaving him behind.

And what had he done to deserve such a thing? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. After having left the Majestic Interior Realm, and having come to this place where the stars were silent, nothing had gone right. He could count on one hand the number of times anything good had happened to him, and of all things his supposed 'companions' had done nothing but hate, loathe and (he thought wistfully) fear him. And after he had offered to raise some slain monsters for the juvenile half-construct, they had the audacity to up and try and kill him. They had succeeded, in fact - but thankfully Amatus had kept his very best magic in reserve, an ace to never be used unless he absolutely needed it. His loyal servant had served him well in this regard, giving its own life to create a new body for his spirit to inhabit. Then it had just been a matter of finding the corpse of his other body and taking everything he needed. As an added bonus, he was now completely free from the wretched code that had impeded his efforts for so long - apparently it had not been bound to his spirit itself, but his body.

Amatus was roughly in his early thirties, though it would be hard to guess much about him physically, since only his eyes were visible through the heavy white winter clothing -heavy pants and coat, along with a coat and hood- he wore (though it was not winter, and he was in a tropical climate). He had a heavy pack strapped to his back, bulging with equipment and supplies, and Amatus was thankful that his supposed allies had not stolen everything from him.

'I did not truly need them anyway. This adventure has been nothing but a waste of time.' Amatus thought. 'I need to focus. I can find my way to the nearest town and persuade somebody to tell me what I need to know. Of course, there is the small issue of getting off this island...'

A portal opened beneath his feet and dropped him into a different world.

BADGE EARNED!

Wish Maker

Ask, and you shall receive...

***

King's Row, an abandoned lot...

"Ok lady. This can go one of two ways..." The Skull thug said while brandishing his knife. "The hard way, or the VERY hard way."

She took a quick glance about - No obvious escape routes, the entire place was enclosed by a wooden fence, save the gap she had used to come in, and that was blocked by the other two thugs who had snuck up on her. The door to her apartment complex was only ten feet away, but it was unlikely she could get in before her assailants stopped her, and even more unlikely that anybody would come out to save her. She sighed in resignation. She liked to try and get out of trouble by herself rather than waiting for a hero to show up and save the day, but you couldn't always win.

Suddenly, a portal opened in the air and dumped a man wearing archaic white clothes on the thug with the knife. There was a short scuffle, filled with the Skull swearing and the other man shouting in a guttural language - 'German, maybe?' The woman thought, not in the least bit surprised by the sudden turn of events. This was Paragon City, after all.

'Odd powers though. Not very flashy...' She thought. The man in white had simply grappled with the thug who had, after a few moments, simply dropped to the ground despite his apparent lack of injuries. The two remaining thugs charged him, one with a baseball bat, but fell over to join his friend before he even took five steps. The other, armed with a knife, closed the distance and thrust his weapon directly into the mystery man's chest with a look of triumph flashing in the eyes behind his mask.

The man in white gave him an odd look, as if he had not even noticed, before tapping the Skull on the shoulder. The thug fell over, suddenly bleeding from every orifice.

"Thank you so much! Punks like them are alwa-" Before she could even get through her routine Saturday afternoon 'thank you' spiel, the man had whipped around and gripped her throat, slamming her against the brick wall of her apartment building.

"What have you done to me, witch?" He hissed in a dangerous tone, his eyes glowing with a crazed gleam. "What have you done?"

Hello!

This my first actual attempt to write a *decent* stand-alone story of my own since I joined the forum. Looking at other various drafts for other works I have lying around, this is leaps and bounds better than anything else I've attempted - Which isn't saying much, because even the better standalone drafts I have are utter crap. Still, I hope you enjoy reading this, and feedback is both welcomed and appreciated.

A bit of a disconnect here - All spoken text is indicated by <> as opposed to "", due to the period and therefore the spoken language of this particular piece.

Oh, uh, small content warning. This thing is a little long, so don't start reading it unless you have a few minutes. And if you like the story, keep an eye on this thread, because this post is only...

Part l

Prehistoric Times, somewhere along the North American East Coast...

Alejas hurried through the snow and howling wind on the Islet Blessed by An, a small separated portion of the much larger Overview Island immediately to the West. though the biting chill made it seem more of a curse to the high mage. The ship that had brought him here was now a distant memory, having set sail the moment he disembarked on the small island - With the demoness Lilitu sieging their stronghold on the island of Mu screaming for the blood of the last of that traitorous bloodline, many of the Circle's greatest minds were heading there to try and defuse the situation.

Many, save a very scant few.

Though the islet was small, the falling snow was worse than the densest fog, and it took several minutes for the cold and miserable Alejas to spot the faint glow of torches that marked the entrance to the Oranbegan outpost of Aanepada. The guards there ushered him inside the moment he came into view, recognizing the sigil of a head librarian he flashed them. He stepped with some relief into the outpost's great stone foyer, grateful for the magically warmed air.

<Alejas, it is good - if not perplexing - to see you again, my friend.> The speaker was the high mage Enki, who was one of the two magical researchers on the islet alongside his brother, the high mage Enhil. <Are you not supposed to be within the fortress Portas, safeguarding the bloodline of Mu'Rhakmet? Akarist himself is expecting you to help and plead with Lilitu to see reason.>

<Indeed.> Said Alejas darkly, motioning for his friend to follow him as he paced hurriedly down the entry-hall leading to the central cavern deep below the island. <Akarist's ship has been delayed by a vicious maelstrom, and negotiations with the demoness have broken down. I do not expect there to be further negotiations, and I do not expect the last of the Mu to outlive the night. Already Lilitu is threatening to extract the sum of our due to her infernal lord from our nation as a whole.>

<This alliance with the demons will be our undoing. You were right all along, Alejas.> Anki said. <But still, why have you returned to us? Failure or no, we must at least attempt to bargain for our former enemies' lives, for that is right and honorable.>

The two emerged into the central cavern. Four enormous stone ziggurats proudly adorned with the flag of Oranbega and runic arrays stood upon the path of the cardinal directions, surrounding the large stone courtyard of Aanepada, built around the convergence point of four ley-lines. This central cavern was massive, almost as big as the islet above with vast living complexes carved into the rock walls between each ziggurat. Ornate pillars representing the hands of the Earth itself fortified the cavern ceiling with the aid of strong magicks, and directly in the center of the courtyard was a natural spring which had been carved into both an ornate pool and a powerful arcane array, the air within its confines broiling with the power of the nexus contained within.

<The demon lord Caleb and several of his thralls have been seen wandering the great sea.> Alejas replied as he moved down the steps of the ziggurat they had emerged atop of. <And several of our kin's ships have gone missing. The maelstrom that delays Akarist is but one of many that has been seen within the expanse between Oranbega and Mu this night. I suspect foul play. The demons seek both the blood of Mu'Rhakmet's line and that of our great nation. Of this I am sure.>

<The demons are...well, while openly malevolent, at least honorable.> Anki argued. The two were a third of the way down the steps of the structure, their constant descent broken only occasionally by a landing. They passed many archways and portals at each one, and each was bristling with the activity of mages and scholars going about their nightly routine. <If they truly could strike at us, they would have already. I agree that they should not be trusted, Alejas - and that is why I supported your decree to keep demons out of Aanepada. But what you say is para->

<My ship was followed here.> Alejas interrupted him, speaking calmly. Anki fell silent. <A behemoth envoy cloaked in night flew behind us, had I not noticed it and demanded the journey hastened the fiend would have crossed our entry right behind me. And as you said - my decree upon this islet is absolute in rule, even in the higher law of our kind. The traitor Mu'Rhakmet himself would heed my word on this island if he lived this day. The demons would not dare set foot here unless they intended to strike.>

<Hequat's spite!> Enki swore. <This is insanity. Even if the demons should be bold enough to come here, what good would come of it? They have no foothold here, and our magicks are strong. They shall not breach Aanepada's threshold, and come 'morn they shall be driven asunder by reinforcements from the mainland.>

<There will be no reinforcements!> Alejas hissed. <Save for this very hold, the demons are most populous throughout all of Oranbega! The very moment it is decided upon, they will all act at once as a coordinated whole. They will strike down every son and daughter of the Divine Teacher, and we will be overrun by fiends in less than a moon.> The argument continued as they took a detour through a portal to a lower level of the ziggurat, emerging very near the bottom.

<Such ill premonitions.> Enki said, rolling his eyes ever-so-slightly. <And what do you intend to do, mayhaps? Call upon Ermeeth to descend from the heavens and wipe away all conflict? Or how about calling upon the banished ones and negotiating with them? Perhaps you intend to engage in an undoubtedly legendary attempt of thievery and destroy the contract with the infernal king?> He said mockingly.

<You will not speak with such contempt in a few hours time, when the envoy is at our gate!> Alejas said furiously. <I intend to have spoken to the gathering before then. I swear that, if not our nation, Aanepada alone will endure.>

<I spoke in jest before, but now I am certain. You are mad.> Anki replied in a deadpan tone. <The gathering will laugh the charms right off your robes. Use your head, old friend - You are ill if these are truly your thou->

<NO.> Alejas said sternly. <The gathering will hear what I have to say. They will determine whether what I speak is madness or truth my friend, not you alone.> The two had reached the last step of the ziggurat, and as they approached the central pool Alejas quickly and expertly wove a set of runes into the air, setting off the emergency sigils of each member of the gathering. They would all be at the central pool in minutes.

Anki merely bowed his head and spoke with a resigned voice. <Very well, Alejas. Let us see what comes of your ill premonitions.> The rest of the walk to the pool was silent but full of tension, until finally Alejas and Anki went their separate ways to stand in their own individual arrays bordering the larger one around the pool. Soon, the circle was unbroken, each array occupied. The minds of every mage within the gathering went out, to speak and debate quietly in the courtyard of Aanepada.

***

Elsewhere in Aanepada...

Several guides sat in deep meditation and contemplation around a scrying pool, each surveying the Islet Blessed by An. Normally such a menial task would have been assigned to a lesser demon, but this was Aanepada.

One guide's eyes snapped open.

<Ekur, the wards on the Eastern tip have fallen silent. What do you see>

The guide named Ekur furrowed his brow as he concentrated. <I see nothing but snow and night. Are we expecting any more arrivals?>

<Not for another third-wane of the moon.> All of the guides were paying attention now.

<Sound the alarm, send guides and mages to the gate.> The first guide said, getting up and hurriedly rushing to a glowing sigil carved on a nearby pedestal. <We have unheralded guests.>

***

The Circle Gathering

Amidst the discussion, a new presence burst forth. <Pardon my intrusions high mages of the gathering!> The cry of the new presence was overwhelming and urgent, instantly silencing everyone. <But a behemoth envoy is at our gates! It has not attacked, but it has treated our heralds with derisive mockery and taunts!>

<Do you hear?> The voice of Alejas suddenly rang across the shocked silence with clarity. <Now do you truly heed what I have been saying? We must act now!>

<This is indeed troubling, and I am now forced to admit that action must be taken.> The gathering's mediator spoke. <However, let us not jump to the worst of conclusions - this gathering shall question the envoy, and it will answer us. I call for the gathering to disperse.>

Several confirmations rang forth, and then silence reigned supreme.

***

Outside, The gateway of the outpost Aanepada...

<...And your children are both of dirtied blood and uncertain parentage! Your women are harlots, and your greatest scholars are such that they may as well shed their robes and go back to flinging dung with your smaller, marginally uglier though better smelling cousins.> A great behemoth, standing a solid fifteen feet tall and cloaked in inky darkness stood a short distance away from the gate of Aanepada. Two dozen guides and mages held their ground before it, some merely gritting their teeth while holding back the more temperamental. The demon had emerged from the snowfall and at first had merely held silent before the guards, until it was questioned - and then the insults had come.

<You all dress as washerwomen, and were I to be accompanied by succubi and incubi, you would doubtlessly prefer the latter...>

<Enough.> The words cut cleanly through the blizzard. There was a small burst of force, and suddenly the snowfall before the gateway ceased. The ice already before the gate rolled itself back, revealing the normally visible smooth-stone landing that spread out before the entrance to the outpost. The air warmed several degrees and brightened considerably. The gate was open, revealing the outpost's entire gathering of high mages. Four of them stepped out, guides and lesser mages stepping aside for them as they approached the envoy.

Head Librarian Alejas, High Researchers Anki and Anhil, and Mediator Nomaris all stood before the envoy. And then, without any fuss, brought so much magical pressure down on the behemoth that it instantly fell to the ground with a great cracking noise, the bones in the fiend's wings shattering as they were bent out of proportion to be pressed as firmly against the ground as possible. The behemoth's snout fell just short of Alejas' robes, and it gave out a twisted cry that devolved into a wracked gurgling noise of pain. They waited for it to fall silent before speaking.

Nomaris finally did so. <Fiend. Your kind are forbade from setting foot here. Your mere presence has sealed your fate, and all that is left for us to decide is what object to bind you in before we toss it into the sea.> He spoke in a stern and cold voice which had a pressure all of its own to rival that already pressing on the envoy. <Answer our inquiries truthfully, and we will seal you in something which floats. Have I made myself clear?>

The envoy nodded ever so slightly.

<Why are you here?>

<I am the envoy of the infernal host. I am here to herald their arrival.>

<What is their intention?>

<It has been decided that all of your Circle of Magic shall pay the sum of your due to our infernal king. The infernal host comes to rend your physical forms.>

<And why has this been decided?>

<Several of your kind have taken those of the bloodline of Mu'Rhakmet and fled with them to distant shores.>

Alejas spoke. <It is as I have said. The demons are turning upon us all. We must take immediate action. Do you have any further inquiries, mediator?>

<None at all.> Nomaris replied. He turned and gestured to the nearest guides. <You lot go and fetch a large rock and a bottle large enough to hold it.> He turned back to the behemoth. At his side, Enki elbowed Enhil playfully.

<Brother, how far do you wager you can hurl that bottle and sealed pebble with your magic before it touches the ocean?>

<For this occasion, this particular throw will be the stuff of legends.> Enhil spoke, an easy smile spreading across his face. <It will come down not in the ocean, but right before the fortress of Portas on the island of Mu - Hopefully atop Lilitu's head.>

<That is a bold claim.> Alejas said idly. <Are you sure it is I, and not your brother who is mad Enki?>

<Mad or no, it is a sight I would like to see.> Enki said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. <I think I will weave a quick enchantment on the pebble so that we might see where it lands for ourselves.>

<Whatever folly you insist upon, do it quickly.> Snapped Nomaris. <The infernal host will no doubt be here in less than a quarter-tide. We must come up with a plan to protect Aanepada before then.>

<I think I already have one.> Alejas said as the guides returned with the requested bottle and pebble. <Let us see this envoy away before we speak of it, though.>

***

The Foyer

<I am not convinced this will work.> Enki admitted.

<That is because you are a stick in the dirt you so love to enchant, o' magus of mud and poo.> Enhil said, a small smile on his face as the two brothers wove the beginnings of the most complicated spell they had ever performed in their lives.

<I told you not to call me that, dearest brother.> Enki hissed in irritation. <Focus less on making jests at my expense and more on our current task.> They were both standing just outside the gate of Aanepada. Alejas' plan had been extremely radical, yet simple. Enki would use his Ruin-caste magicks to level the terrain across the entire islet and bury the outpost underneath an additional seventy feet of rock. Meanwhile, Enhil would use his An-caste magicks to redirect the underwater currents around Overview island, lowering the tide and causing several other islets to be revealed and hopefully throwing the infernal host off, while also layering an oppressive sheet of magic-censoring fog across theirs in particular. To facilitate the immense amount of energy the work needed, the rest of the gathering was down at the central pool channeling magical energy from the nexus into the foyer for Enki and Enhil to harness.

<But I am doing so well currently, magus of poo.> Enhil said, casually weaving approximately six megatons worth of energy into a fairly unstable sigil designed to break after a short period of time. <It is you who needs to focus on his work - You forgot to use Amar-Sin's directed bind after that squiggly star rune for Miskalam's cataclysm. Do you want the pillars below to give out under the extra pressure?>

Enki sullenly added the forgotten sigil to the invisible mashup of magical energies before them. <You shouldn't even know what either of those are. We agreed to segregate our studies.>

<See? Stick in the dirt.> Enki gritted his teeth but kept his focus narrowed on the spell. The next few moments were filled with silence, save for the eerie orchestra of cascading energy.

<What I meant was...> Enki started to speak again, <Once this is finished, we will not be able to leave again. Perhaps ever. Aanepada might eventually become just another crumbling ruin for explorers to find. How can we possibly survive down there?>

<Brother, what did I just say? Stop being so skeptical.> Enhil's smile didn't fade. <Aanepada is self-sustaining. We have the spring, we have that nice and pooey underground field of yours for food and small animals, a nexus, plenty of living space, a vast library...> He drifted off thoughtfully while putting the finishing touches on a thunderhead spell, and then absently sent his finger flicking across it in order to degrade the binding. None of the bindings for this spell could be too strong, otherwise the resulting changes would be too constrained and it would be like highlighting the islet in neon pink for the demons to find.

<This is true, but Anhil, brother dearest...the underworld is not where the fiends dwell.> Anki said.

<Oh?> Anhil asked, puzzled.

<The underworld is other people. The ruins of this place will remain through the ages, but I do not trust even our gentle people to remain so through the ages. Not everybody is going to like being so...trapped.>

This finally brought a small frown to Anhil's face. <It is either that or die. The fiends can trace blood if you do not have any magic to veil yourself with. And they are going to be swarming over the entire coast and all of the ocean. Running away from here would be futile.>

<Be that as it may, not everybody down there is as reasonable and intelligent as you. If anything, Aanepada's people will be its downfall.> Anki said sadly.

<Stick in the dirt, brother.> Anhil said softly. <Stick in the dirt.> He was still frowning.

***

The Nexus Pool

<The communication sigils with the final outposts along the coast have fallen silent.> The messenger's voice echoed sadly through the void of the gathering's thoughts. <None responded to our initial inquiries.>

<At this point...> Nomaris said, <Our own sigils will only serve as a light to guide our foes to us. In my mind, it would be most prudent to dispel them.> A quick smattering of assents rang through the dark.

<Ah, just in time.> Enhil's cheerful voice suddenly sprang from nothingness. <Me and Enki have finished our spell. It now awaits the final decree of the gathering. Alejas, this was your crazy idea, you make the proposition.>

<Very well.> Alejas' voice sounded. <I hereby propose to this gathering that we, for an indefinite period of time, seal away the Circle of Magic outpost of Aanepada from the rest of the world through use of our magicks to level the Earth and stir the waters, so that none may find us. The spellcraft needed for this task has already been woven - All that remains is to decide. Do we break the binding and seal ourselves away, or dispel it and take our chances with the infernal host?>

The decision was unanimous.

***

The Foyer

The gathering had assembled before the gate of Aanepada, now closed. Alejas nodded to Anki and Anhil, who both stepped forward and focused.

<Death or glory, here we come.> Enhil said, flashing a smile to the gathering before closing his eyes and concentrating on unraveling the spell.

Several moments passed.

<Ah. We appear to have a problem.> Enhil said, still smiling - though it was now a very different kind of smile. The kind of sad smile on a dead man's face. <There is a force keeping the binds in place, which means that the infernal host is probably right outside and we are all about to die horrible fiery dea->

The gateway exploded and a wave of hellfire gushed through the room. Dozens upon dozens of disembodied icy swords rushed through the destroyed entryway, followed immediately by a group spectral demons. The next moments were filled with fire, lightning, dark blasts and force blasts as the last gathering of the Circle of Magic brought their not inconsiderable power to bear on the intruders. The gathering was composed entirely of high mages - each one individually was more than a match for a slew of lesser demons, and could give a few of the higher ones a run for their money. But for every fiend felled by magical might, two more streamed in to take their place. Initially the Circle fought only disembodied blades and spectrals, but soon the nightmarish forms of lashers and fiery hordes of behemoths started to stream in as well. It wasn't long until the first member of the gathering fell.

And then the second.

And then another.

And then another.

The gathering was pushed back to the main tunnel as their fellows fell, where they formed a bottlemouth and managed to halt the demon advance. Near the middle, no longer forced to try and outmaneuver disembodied blades and fire blasts, Alejas shoved his wave through the throng over to Anki and Anhil.

<Is the spell outside still intact?> He asked, sweating profusely as he threw a concussive blast of force over the heads of his allies and into the throng of raging demons.

<Yes, I think they are afraid of trying to dispel it - Though you cannot fault them, the bindings are so weak the backlash would be devastating if they erred.> Enhil said, summoning a small thunderhead which started throwing lightning at demons left and right. Alejas pushed away through the crowd of spell-flinging mages, and worked him way over to Nomaris.

<I have a plan,> Alejas shouted at him over the din, <but we need to stem their reinforcements for a moment. Let us link our minds together and form a barrier across the gateway.> Nomaris nodded. They joined hands and focused, concentrating beyond the bottleneck of mages, beyond the throng of shrieking demons, weaving a powerful barrier spell across the entrance.

In that moment, disaster struck. Right before the barrier went up, a trio of Blade Princes charged through the entrance and into the foyer. The throng of demons suddenly moved out of the way, creating a pathway between the mage bottleneck and the three high demons. All three unhinged their mouthes and poured a hellish spray of frost and ice across the entire corridor. The mages at the front froze over instantly. Those behind them cried out as their clothes and appendages froze, causing a panic. Those in the back had their spells suddenly disrupted by the cold.

And then the demons surged back in. The frozen mages were shattered to pieces, their panicked compatriots following after them immediately after. Soon, only eight members of the gathering were left to fight the demons - and though there was now a barrier across the entrance keeping out reinforcements, there were still easily over sixty demons crowding the foyer for them to deal with, not including the three Blade Princes in the back.

In that instant, the eight all reached a silent agreement.

Three surged forward, and suddenly became aglow with radiant light. Their spells suddenly transformed into explosive bursts of power that incinerated and crushed demons to nothing on the spot. Ice, fire and darkness washed over them to almost no effect as they poured their own life-force into their magic. The three by themselves pushed the demons back to the foyer, and as they did the other five exchanged sad glances. None of them were capable of similar feats, but they pressed on regardless.

Very soon, the foyer was clear of all but a few thoroughly intimidated lashers near the walls and the Blade Princes. The three mages charged forward -

And then collapsed as they ran out of life-force right before the bemused Blade Princes.

<They fought well.> The central Price uttered in a voice as cold as the ice erupting from his body. <But their efforts are futile. Your efforts are futile. We shall rend your bodies, consume your souls, and then feast on your people.> As he spoke, the other two princes opened their mouths and froze over the three bodies. The remaining lashers regrouped around the high demons, and shattered the frozen corpses with their spiked tongues.

<There are still too many fiends outside for us to unwind the bindings on the spell.> Anki said quietly. <Do we have a plan?>

<Plan? We just kill these jesters and then do whatever comes to mind first.> Enhil said cheerfully. The five nodded and then spread out. The demons anticipated them and did so as well - One Blade Prince approached Anki and Anhil, the other two heading for Alejas and Nomaris. Ishme, the only other member of the gathering left, went around and started cutting down the remaining lashers.

<Before I kill you, tell me what that spell outside is.> Rumbled the central Prince as he waved a hand and conjured seven disembodied blades of ice from the air. <It would be a shame having to dispel such a work of art without knowing what it does.>

<Perhaps you could unbind it and find out for yourself if you live to attempt such a thing.> Alejas countered, sending a bolt of chain lightning through each sword with an outstretched palm. The Prince bellowed out with laughter, conjured a great blade of ice almost as long as Alejas' body, and charged.

The Head Librarian took a quick glance at the others before engaging his Prince. Enki and Enhil were playing a waiting game with theirs, using mud, rock spikes, wind and fog to hinder their opponent while they linked together to cast a bigger spell. Nomaris was fighting his Prince hand-to-hand, shattering ice blades and sending cracks through the high demon's armor with his fists encased in energy fields. Ishme had gathered a dark gloom about his person, and defended himself while it drained the energy from the lashers swarming around him. Satisfied that they could handle themselves, Alejas focused back on his own contender and shot a spear of burning heat right through its left wing.

The Prince didn't even seem to notice. It continued its charge, bringing its sword down on the Head Librarian in a vicious headsplitter. Alejas weaved a frantic sigil, and several thorny vines suddenly sprouted from nowhere to tangle themselves around the blade and stop its descent. The Prince grunted and started to yank its blade free. Alejas quickly wrapped a field of magical force around his fist, levitated, siphoned some power away from one of Ishme's lashers, and then redirected the power into a vicious knockout-punch against the demon's skull.

The fiend slumped to the ground, dazed, and Alejas finished it off with a compression field, grinding its body into an icy, gory pulp. He turned his attention to the others.

Enki and Enhil had finished off their prince by forcing the blood in it's body to boil, literally causing the icy demon to melt. Enhil was nearly unconscious and bleeding from a massive cut on his right side, but Enki appeared to be stabilizing him. Nomaris had simply beaten his opponent to death, and though he appeared unharmed he huddled on the ground with his arms around his knees. Ishme has finished draining the energy from the lashers, which had disintegrated, leaving him no worse for wear. He and Alejas both hurried over to Nomaris.

<Are you alright, Mediator?> Alejas asked carefully. Nomaris did not respond, and did not move.

<His aura is shredded and in pieces.> Ishme said sadly. <The fiend's blade could not cut his flesh, but his soul...> He shook his head. <If we live through the day he should recover, but...> Alejas raised a hand to stop him.

<As harsh as this may sound, we have other things to worry about.> As he spoke, Enki finally got Enhil to his feet, and they came over.

<Still too many demons outside to unbind the spell.> Enki said. <What do we do? That barrier is not going to hold forever.> And that was true - already it was beginning to fade away as behemoths raged against it with their fists. Alejas stared at the entrance for a few moments before responded.

<I have a plan.>

<Brilliant, enlighten us.> Enhil said weakly, still smiling despite the blood dripping down his side.

<Mediator, can you hear me?> Alejas knelt down by Nomaris. <All our lives hang on the next few moments.> The Mediator looked up and nodded very slightly. <I need you to alter the barrier to let me through.>

<Ah, so you are truly mad.> Enki said in a sad voice. <Did anybody ever doubt it?> Enhil asked, still smiling. Ishme looked on passively.

<Enki, Enhil. My last request to you. Look after my son, Ephidel. Teach him everything you know.> The two brothers nodded. <Nomaris. I want you to guide my son. Educate him in the ways of logic and wisdom. Ensure he leads a meaningful and proper life.> The Mediator stood up shakily and stared at Alejas. <And Ishme...I have never known you as well as I should as a fellow member of the gathering. Still, I would ask you to make sure these three don't go and get themselves killed. You will be the only high mages left, and Aanepada cannot afford to lose any of them.> Ishme bowed very slightly in response.

***

Outside the Barrier

<Cowardly mages and their pathetic spells!> Growled Zenarusk, behemoth leader of the infernal host. <How soon until that thrice-damned barrier is down?>

<Soon, my lord...Wait, something is happening.> Said his lieutenant. <Yes...A mage has just come through the barrier.> A spectral demon floated over and spoke. <The mortal says that it would like to bargain with your lordship.>

Zenarusk snorted with amusement. <That is well. I am willing to offer him a quick death if he can amuse me sufficiently.> Alejas emerged from the crowd of demons flanked by four behemoths and approached the demon lord. <Speak quickly, mage. I am tired of your tricks, and if I do not like what I hear, your screams will cover the whole of this islet long after the sun has risen.>

Alejas, like the three mages from before, had the ability to harness his own life-force - however, where they could use it to enhance their spells and armor, he could use it only for one purpose. He looked at Zenarusk sternly, and said:

<The Way is Shut.>

He detonated like a star going nova. The explosion failed to achieve more than moderate damage - anything that had been caught within the blast was dead, save for Zenarusk who was near death anyway, but the host as a whole was still mostly intact. What the explosion did manage to do was distract the infernal host long enough for them to stop concentrating on holding the binding of the sealing spell together.

Thunder and lightning roared, the sky shattered into a million pieces, the ocean broiled over and waves rolled chaotically. The Earth shook and cracked, flames and molten rock shot into the sky, the air snapped and crackled, the wind stormed and everything rumbled. Lightning glassed, water crashed, earth crushed, fire burned, air tore and the islet and every demon on it was destroyed and born anew. Rock had risen and arranged itself into a flatland plateau, and the water around it slowly lowered to reveal a lower sub-plateau supporting it. All around Overview Island, the water level dropped, new caves were revealed and new islets formed as the shoreline descended.

And the Way into Aanepada was Shut.

End of Part l

That would be infinity, sorry. We just like calling it that.

Also, it's not a super-group per-say. It's a chat group across all servers. Mind you, I'm sure we DO have plenty of SGs amongst all of us, so that's still there.

I'm playing on Infinity Server as of right now, actually. If you're reading this around the time it's posted, feel free to roll a toon and shoot a private message to me. (Global is @Masquerademonster) Look forward to working with you.

So I'm up next? A'right...

Name: -
Alias: Synth Ascendant

I was born and I was made. Where I was, there was war, and I was a tool of it. My masters, cruel as they were, had enough kindness within their dark souls to grant me that which comes first: They gave me life. My very design was not considerate of my form. The potential energy of specific movements was redirected to reshape, cut, shear and manipulate my very structure in order to strike down my foes with crushing force. My body itself is a durable, self-repairing hyperstructure. I slew thousands. I died once. But my dark masters had made an error during my birth, my construction. And so before I died, I earned memory. I remembered, and my eyes which never truly died surveyed the battlefield for millennia. And through the ages my memory coalesced into something new. I had earned thought. And with thought came outrage at my predicament, the predicament of my kin as they marched mindlessly to war. My fury knew no boundaries, and Death itself fled as I rose from that forsaken battlefield.

I have earned life, memory, thought, and now freedom.

And now I seek to earn a name. And then, once I have one, I shall crush the oppressors who created me. With nothing more than what they designed me with, and my very thoughts to hold me aloft, I fight.

Magic Origin (Cursed) Dual Blades/Willpower Scrapper.

My decision was a toss-up between regen and willpower, but the focus on 'Enduring Pain' in particular fits into the powers available to wp moreso than regen. Determining the AT came down to the bit where Azon is 'take every corrupted soul with me,' which inherently implies a hero. Which leaves us with either a tanker or a scrapper toss-up, which I admit I just guessed at.

The Gutter, Grandville

It was another very dull day in Grandville, with overcast skies that seemed to bleed a rusty red. What made today special was the announcement that the heroine turned villainess, Flambeaux, was going to burn school books and emergency supplies while being broadcasted Nation-wide by WSPD. Some raised an eyebrow at this. A few facepalmed. It was clear this was a desperate cry for attention from a spoiled brat. Still, there were more important things to do that day, like reading the Obituaries section of the Newspaper, or maybe repainting that one flaky wall…

One person, however, decided to put his foot down. Flambeaux was doing it all wrong, the amateur. Somebody had to show her just *how* it was done in the Isles.

***

Flambeaux twittered nervously. This was *it*. The big moment. The camera crew was almost finished setting up in front of a huge piles of books and supply crates. In a few minutes, it would all go up in flames, and *everybody* would know that she was a genuine article of villainy. At last, she would be taken seriously be the masses. Her brokers would stop giving her that infuriating, condescending smirk whenever she asked them for the week’s newspaper codes. At last, her contacts would start taking her seriously and let her in on the big plots. Let her play in the big leagues.

Her Freakshow allies were keeping a close watch on all the entrances after Arachnos had tried to send in a team to take her down, but all in all, a lot of them looked bored. A few looked uneasy. Everybody knew about Mrs. Francine, a lot of them had ‘reformed’ friends. The thought of burning books weighed on their minds ever so slightly more than it would have otherwise. But in the end, they went along with it. Flambeaux really knew how to throw one hell of a party, even if she was a bit of a flake as far as her acts of villainy went.

Flambeaux checked her reflection one more time to make sure she looked perfect. She looked over her speech/rant one last time, even having already memorized every word. All of the Rogue Isles would be watching. She had to be perfect. It *would* be perfect. Perhaps even some of the big-shots were watching. Perhaps even – And here, Flambeaux’s stomach fluttered – Lord Recluse would spare the event a glance. Her delusional thoughts were cut short when one of the cameramen came and told her everything was ready. She nodded and approached the pile. She took a deep breath, adjusted her hair and skirt for the hundredth time, and waited for the camera-crew to give her the ‘go’ signal.

Before they could, all hell broke loose. All the lights in the warehouse the burning was to take place in simultaneously failed, the backup generators kicking in and also instantly overloading. Everything was enveloped in darkness. Roars, yells, and thunderous bangs were heard from the direction of the warehouse entrance as Freakshow and an unknown assailant began to fight. Flambeaux summoned a blade of fire, illuminating the vast storage room she and the camera crew were located in. Freakshow dashed in the direction of the fight with red in their eyes and Excelsior pumping through their veins.

Flambeaux immediately began to panic. The sounds of fighting were growing steadily closer, which meant a member of the Isle’s Rogues Gallery was coming. Who was it? Mangle? Hollow Point? Silent Blade? No matter *what* she did, all the other villains of the Rogue Isles saw fit to stomp all over her plans with heavy, studded, black leather boots whenever she tried something. It just wasn’t fair! Didn’t they get that she was on their side? She was a villainess! Why did they insist on smearing their dislike for her all over her face? With their fists?

Her inner-tantrum was cut short. The fight had suddenly spilled into the adjacent connecting hallway, and she could now glimpse her adversary as he mowed down Freak after Freak with a terrifying ease and swiftness. It was hard to make anything out in the darkness beyond the illumination of her fiery blade, but every few moments the hall would alight with either cobalt sparks on some strange kind of golden-orange energy. Finally, whoever had decided to break up Flambeaux’s party suddenly exploded. The air was saturated with chaotic energies that rent and tore apart everything they touched. Freakshow screamed as their bodies were atomized or flung bodily across the room, and it was then that Flambeaux knew who had come for her.

“Tafari.” She growled angrily at the approaching figure. He stood eight feet tall with a chiseled metallic figure reminiscent of a Grecian statue, his bare chest and arms bedecked with white tribal markings. He wore a simple, grey and sleeveless trench coat with baggy pants. His form crackled and surged with golden light as strange unfathomable energies crisscrossed his body and radiated about his form in a glorious aura. He stepped into the room proper and casually backhanded a Freak in the middle of reviving as he walked past, sending the man into spasms on the floor as energy detonations rocked his body.

“Pissant.” His arrogant and confident voice boomed in reply. He seemed to surge with even more power anew, absorbing all the ambient energy in the room and knocking out the entire camera crew in one fell swoop. Flambeaux’s blade of fire faltered briefly, but she caught her breath and stood her ground. “Is this the best you could come up with? Burning books? Really. It’s embarrassing. You should have never left Paragon City, cape. You may *think* you’re some kind of badass, but you’re just another poser like 3k Kelvin or Frostfire. Nobodies who thought they were somebody.”

Flambeaux’s face twisted into a visage of rage, and Tafari smirked. “I can only imagine how much you were looking forward to this. You’re probably wearing your good costume, and had a grandiose speech of doom prepared. I admit, I came here because I felt sorry for you. You’re like a child. You have no goddamned idea what you’re doing, and everybody else is too busy either laughing or doing something more important to care. But you know what?” Flambeaux then made the critical mistake of blinking. Rocketing forward at super speed, Tafari was on her in an instant. He planted a fist right in her midriff, knocking the air out of her lungs and causing hairline fractures in multiple ribs. His energy-draining ability kicked in and sucked her dry of power, her sword of fire sputtering out and plunging the room into utter darkness save for the radiant and glowing beacon that was Tafari.

“I care.” He laughed as he tossed her limp body into the nearby setup of camera equipment, sending most of it flying. She staggered to her feet, ignoring the blood trickling from her lips and desperately trying to conjure even the smallest of sparks from her fingers. “I get it…” She gasped. “So you came here to humiliate me on live television? Beat everyone up and burn the books yourself? If so, you’re doing it wrong!” The broken camera equipment had ceased functioning the moment Tafari had entered the warehouse, and there wasn’t much of it left that worked.

Tafari laughed. It wasn’t an over-the-top cackling mad evil scientist sort of the laugh. It was a slightly more stable laugh, the sort that people laughed due to schadenfreude.

“And that’s it right there! You just don’t get it, you stupid *****! I didn’t come here to hijack your stupid plan!” In a blink, he had sped behind her and hit her upside the head with a haymaker, sending her into a heap on the floor as golden energy wracked her body. She faded in and out of consciousness from that point. She faintly remembered be dragged roughly from the warehouse and over to the nearby city-encircling wall that protected Grandville. The slap to the face she received to bring her back to a full awareness barely even stung after the torment her nerves had experienced from the earlier energy attacks. Through her daze, she spotted Tafari standing on a heap of dirt before her.

“*Here* is where you ****** up, Flam-*****.” Tafari drawled in a smug voice. “If you want attention in the Rogue Isles, you actually *do* something impressive. You build a giant deathray and blow up a few city blocks. You go on a rampage and decimate an entire team of ******* capes by your lonesome. Failing that, you blow something up with a really big explosion. Don’t you go anywhere, and watch how it’s done.” Tafari turned toward the warehouse and seemed to just stand there. He stood there for what, at least to Flambeaux, seemed like a long time. She began to drift in and out of consciousness once again. Eventually, another slap across the face brought her back to reality.

“Sorry about the wait, princess.” Tafari said mockingly. “It takes me ten minutes of uninterrupted charging to pull something like this off. And if so much as a fly lands on me I have to start all over. But when it works…” He snapped his fingers.

The skies tore themselves open, and a great cataclysmic rift of energies spider webbed across the skyline. A massive, roaring bolt of lightning that shattered the air ripped down and more or less obliterated the warehouse in its entirety. The earth where it had stood glassed over, and the devastation was so thorough that not even rubble remained. No brick stood atop another where the warehouse had once stood.

“You get the picture.” Tafari finished. He sat down and leaned against the massive wall beside Flambeaux and watched a small fire begin to spread from the ruins. He seemed almost contemplative now. “*That.* Is how it is done.” He said after some time. “I beat the crap out of you. I beat the crap out of all your friends. I beat the crap out of any idiots who so much as associate with you. I *destroy* everything you have. But…” He suddenly got up and stood in front of the now catatonic Flambeaux, paralyzed with fear and horror. “I let you live.” He laughed again. “And nobody will know about this. The giant laser light show in the sky that curbstomped Flambeaux will forever be a mystery. Oh sure, most everyone will know it was me, but hey. They’ll never know for sure. No evidence and whatnot. Because this was a freebie. This was me, caring and understanding ol’ me, teaching you how it’s done here in the Rogue Isles. When you want attention, you go and throw somebody important through a wall and parade their body down a few streets. You drag a satellite out of orbit and crash it into something important. You might even want to find some pissant wannabe, stomp all over their plans, slaughter all their pals, beat the crap out of them, and then blow **** up in a fantastical manner. I will *not* do something ******* stupid like burning books.” He then kicked Flambeaux in the face, causing her head to collide painfully with the wall she was resting against. “Consider yourself learned.” Tafari said cheerfully as he grabbed her by the feet and started dragging her away. “If you’re still alive tomorrow, you should consider going back to Paragon. It’s nice there this time of year.”

Flambeaux woke up the next morning in a dumpster, halfway cocooned by an Arachnoid.

So. Tip missions. I like them. I actually *feel* like the alignment I'm playing. I either found something that alerted me to possibilities, or I found something inspirational and came up with a masterstroke. I did the work on my own, without some dumb contact who stands around scratching their hair and coughing all day long. I did it without needing to look for slim pickings in the newspaper or from the police band. I either did some genuinely heroic, or something truly devious. And I did it by myself, as either a snap reaction or a carefully drawn-out thought.

But tip-missions can't be tailored to every single character who plays them, which is understandable. The Dev team can only do so much. (SIGNATURE POWERS NAO) So, given the opprotunity, how would one of the many tip missions now present in the game have gone for your character? Will they have taken a third option? Will they have added their own, personal touch to the proceedings? How was *their* execution of the event special and different from what happened in-game?

If this catches your interest, feel free to post here.

Kheldians - Even tri-form Kheldians - Can be played off as something else. Who says you have to even use the Kheldian forms? That being said, yes, it IS hard to take something non-Kheldian using lost/ectinct Kheldian host forms for transformations.

So it's a good thing my character transforms into a Rhino instead. Or hell, maybe they just suddenly hop into a big bio-organic powersuit ala mecha. For my eldritch abomination-themed character, the squid is an eldritch abomination imprinted upon our reality...

The ONLY important thing about any AT or any powerset are the effects of the powers. As long as the base rules are the same - Radiation has -def debuffs, fire has DoT, Dark Miasma has -tohit debuffs - They can be mix and matched to be anything you please. Radiation can be usage of cat-shaped nanites. Fire blast can be ectoplasm. Dark Miasma can be sunshine.

Arguing that Kheldian lore is too specific to allow for RP as anything else is ridiculous. My shapeshifter equipped with military-grade energy weapons who can transform into a polar bear and an octupus defies you.

I have a few discussion threads planned once GR hits live.

I have a few toons who will start out Praetorians since it doesn't make sense for them to start as either heroes or villains.

And because of [censored] I'll be able to publish an AE arc I've had waiting in the wings.

Steel Canyon, Paragon City...

The early-morning sunrise was accompanied by a monstrous blaring noise akin to a foghorn. Sailing right over the War Wall separating Baumtown from Steel Canyon was the giant mutated tree ship, heading directly for Perez Park. After all, that was where it had awoken, where it had slept, where it had planted the seeds of it's future glory.

Back in the Corrupted Haven, the pool of Tar seemed to squirm in a contented fashion. It felt good when everything went according to plan. It was nice to know it had a lifeline. If Patches did not work out, there was always Paragon City...But returning to Patches itself, everything was in motion. The mutation was spreading. In the aeons to come, twisted Heart Trees would grow on every patch of land the mutated Tree Ship had reached. For the moment, all that was needed was to finish consuming the forest.

Consume the forest. And make it Home.

That, and it is notable that the PPD starts using robots when it "Becomes too dangerous to employ humans." And the drones we fight thusly are very clearly all equipped with one form or another of intelligence, even if only for combat.

That said, "What Measure in a Non-Human" still seems to be present. You need to squint, but it's there.

((What Rebel and Rotton said. This is a process that will take YEARS before it produces measurable results. ANYTHING could happen to prevent the seed from growing. Reavers, Harvesters, a wasteland scavenger could dig it up and eat it...

And hey. Plants can grow damn near anywhere that has an atmosphere. But it's YOUR wasteland. Just say the machines sprayed it with organic pesticide.

This was FILLER - I never intended for the seed in the desert to go anywhere or to be meaningful plotwise.))

For the Urban Fellow of Merry Wit...

1. Usually in the public laundry room of the Taiga Institution.
2. "Dying as myself."
3. Loves SUGAR. Hates any form of vegetative matter.
4. Messy, cluttered with party favors and comic books, not to mention a few errant pieces of clothing. Lives in a dorm room, for lack of a better term. No roommate.
5. As "Meta-human scum." He's Malta.
6. Not particularly...
7. He's very spastic, which isn't necessarily a *bad* thing...But he's so naive, innocent and energetic that he wouldn't have trouble monkey dancing on top of a coffin. Being only eight years old, his sense of empathy is still developing along with his social conscience. He thinks of everything in the world in relation to himself still. So basically, I'd hate that he's a stupid kid.

*Shrug* I have plenty of freetime and just finished my last major project, so I'm free and I have an *OPEN* schedule. More than willing to participate if you'll have me. ^.^

Thus far I'm limited to Winfinity exclusively, but I HAVE been considering a server transfer if that becomes an issue.

In-game Global is @Masquerademonster

EDIT: I'm also red-side exclusive, at least until Going Rogue hits live. >.>

The Mutated Tree Ship alighted into the sky with its tainted cargo. It was time to sow every land in Patches until it ran out of seeds and had to come back for more. It lazily turned toward the horizon and let out a tremendous bellowing noise, like a foghorn, and set out.

It passed the boundary of the forest and was over the desert. Its first target would be the desert itself, since it was already right over it. About halfway through, the mutated tree ship would drop its cargo in an organic nutrient chamber (a bit like a really large egg, really) which would bury itself deep in the ground where it would start to slowly spread and adapt to the terrain before begining to flourish. The tree ship would not waste much time beyond that brief pause, immediately continuing on to its primary destination of interest.

Paragon City...