City of Perfection

Spoiler:

Boring.

Boring. Boring. BORING.

There's absolutely nothing to do around these parts. Just the worst position I could possibly get. Of all the districts I could be assigned, it just had to be the damned Ghetto, huh? That fascinating Cathedral was given to that snarky bitch, the capital given to that annoying brat, and the hub of the Corrupted was granted to that tasteless man. Why the hell would the system give me this disposition if it was going to assign to me the most lifeless cemetery of all of Dongjing?! Damn, I really wish I wasn't created at times like these. All I can do to pass the time is beat rocks together all day.

It wasn't always like this. Well, I suppose half a century is a long time for humans, though. So maybe to them, it was always like this. The place has been up and abandoned. Mind you, it was always poor and barely hospitable for life, but the Corrupted here managed, somehow. Then that thing decided to show up and mark its turf here. Not like there's much nourishment or data left over in this place after everybody up and left, and those that stayed were eaten over and over again till they no longer existed. Really, even if that thing is strong, it's an absolute moron. Well, I guess I'll make another request to the system today; Give me some idiots who would be willing to get rid of that thing for me so that this place might get some trace of livelihood again. Spice up my boring day-to-day a bit, maybe give me a good show here and there. After all, Lower Dongjing and Network Capital are probably overpopulated at this point, even with the recent wave of migrations to the expanded Cathedral Ruins. So I get typing on the COMP. Man, I wish the system would take some responsibility for giving me this crappy place. It's pretty much ignored my requests for the last decade or so, sending off naive, eager Corrupted to the Cathedral and even that creepy Gateway before it even considered the possibilities of their survival in those volatile places. Well, even if it is futile, it's not like I have anything better to do here.

Right as I press send, I get a notification. Well, most notifications were the system asking me to do some clean up or maintaining certain locations here or there, but I can't help but get my hopes up every time that Ping! noise reaches my ears. So I open up the notification expecting the worst, and what do you know?! I got some... Oh, are you serious? The system has directed a Kjarnöri nomad, an illegal product, and... I don't even know what the hell this manner of creature is. The only somewhat normal one is a veteran of a Cathedral expedition, Carlyle, except he's been rated unfavourably by the Cathedral's Technician... Well, I'm sure that bitch doesn't favour anybody, so I can ignore that bit. This is going to be a blast, directing these fresh blood to their tasks in the Ghetto. Well, unlike that bitch I'll actually take care of the Seekers under me, even if they are a wee bit odd. I mean, I have no idea when the next time the system will be merciful to me will be, so I better be thankful with what I'm given.

System tells me it's directing them over to my terminal. Well, I suppose I just have to wait. Normally I'd worry about them getting ambushed or something on the way here but let's be real; there's nobody left in the ghetto to ambush anybody.

BGM - City of Radiant Ruin

Spoiler:

"Fang"

Every street looked the same as the last, devoid of life and sound. This was not the place to find prey. There was naught to be found but void and stale air. Stalking these identical streets hadn't been Fang's goal. It was clear he wouldn't find any data this way. But something drove him on. A primal instinct. And his instincts hadn't failed him yet.

On he went, traversing block after block of run down cityscape. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the streets didn't look the same. If he payed any attention, they might even be navigatable. But he followed the instinct, a sense tugging him towards some unseen goal. He knew he would be upon it before much longer. Maybe then he would find something of interest.

Ingvar Jarisleifsson

Two hours and not a sweat. Ingvar Jarisleifsson had been gripping his short blades by their hilts in both of his hands for two whole hours as he had wandered aimlessly. Though he could feel the ligaments in his hands start to creak like stressed-wood from the strain of it all, he still had not broken a sweat. What should be covered in blood-splatter was dry: his hands. Two solid-steel, scarlet battle-axes dangled from their holding loops on either side of his waist. His lips pulled back over his teeth and gums in an almost permanent snarl, Ingvar marched on aimlessly like he had been doing for the whole day.

"Where?!" Ingvar growled lowly and loudly. "Where is everyone?!" 

The war-worshipper was angry and full of red malice. He needed release from his rage and quickly. The black furs that sprouted out from the openings in his clothes around his neck and wrists flowed and swayed listlessly as the man walked forward. The dark iron of his armor glittered under the dim lights that buzzed quietly along either side of the streets. 

It felt like eons since he had had a good fight. Since he had set blood free. Since he himself had bled. It was an outrage! Where was the endless onslaught of enemies he deserved?! Where were the sounds of sword and axe on shield that he so desperately yearned for? Where were the enemies?! Where was anyone?

Spoiler:

For a number of odd years, the outskirts of the Ghetto have been completely abandoned, save for the monastery that the creature had spared in its fury. So we pray quietly, and live in obedience to the blessings of Alexia, Goddess of Fire. For so long as we are blessed, the creature and its children will not harm us. Or so it is that the monks and nuns believe. For they do not ever leave the sanctuary; that is a role that I, Alexia's Priestess of Warmth, carry out alone; it is my duty to speak to the Oracle and forage for food. The truth is, none of them are safe from the creature's ire; only I am granted the creature's mercy. And yet it is wondrous, for Alexia has earned many followers after I promised them salvation in our Lady; now they seek the guidance of fire in their everyday lives, as our Lady desires.

And yet, during the night's patrol, I catch the presence of outsiders; they are not of the monastery, and certainly not natives of the Ghetto. Are they ignorant of this district's dangers, or have they come as sacrifice to the great beast? Alas, it is my duty to stray those who have a death wish from such a reckless path; and so I tread the path to find them and bring them to safety. Lest they seek the Oracle. It is fortunate that at this late hour, the beast and her children slumber; though it matters not to me, it would not do for my guests to be consumed as their welcome into this city.

"Children of Sin, where do you wander at this late hour?" I call out to the darkness. The blessing of Alexia carries my voice, and it is heard through each corner of the district. "I come to give you warning; the beast will wake at sunset, and when she awakens, she will seek food for her young. Find shelter quickly; lest you come as sacrifice to the Holy Beast. If you so desire, we can give you sanctuary in Alexia's monastery. If you desire additional counsel, then merely speak, and I will find you through your voice." It is then that I hear blood-curling cries. They sound... Savage. Yet I have promised that I would offer counsel should they ask, and so I walk toward the cries to fulfill my obligation.



"Children of Sin, where do you wander at this late hour?"

Really, the witch has to make her rounds now of all times?

"If you desire additional counsel, then merely speak, and I will find you through your voice."

Damn it, I'm not losing my conscripts to your shitty faith! Not after the system finally gave me some Corrupted to help ease my boredom! I'm not about to go back to banging rocks together to pass the time, nu-uh! I ready myself up and get dressed, and make my way outside the terminal until a barrier stops me and forces me back into my room, bottom first.

Shit. I forgot in my hurry that the system doesn't let me leave my terminal. But what the hell do I do?! The fresh blood I was just given is about to get swayed into that stupid monastery, and I can't very well take advantage of the system and tell them to come here instead. It would be... Uncharacteristic of a Technician, after all. Ugh, this is so stupid! No, wait, I should have faith. If the system finally assigned me some seekers to journey the Ghetto, then surely they won't be so easily tempted by the witch's sweet words. Surely they'll listen to the instincts we've instilled in them instead, and seek me rather than the witch, right? Ugh, this anticipation is killing me. If I wasn't a Technician I would seriously bash that witch's skull in.

Salvek "Forge" Correntius

Once again, I find myself traveling through the silent, empty streets of the Lost Ghetto. To where am I going, I don't know the answer. I have wandered these roads for centuries, and yet, nothing has changed. The world continues to eat away at the heart and soul of each traveler unfortunate enough to find themselves trapped in this accursed city. The Corrupted - the paradise rejects - we have been damned to a life of bloodshed and torture. Meanwhile, phantoms of the Pure walk among us taunting our fate with their mere presence.

From time to time, I will catch glimpses of them in passing. Sometimes only inches away from me, it's as if I could reach out and touch them... but I can't. Do they know what's I've become or have they forgotten about me altogether?  I wouldn't blame them if they did, I can't blame them. Even so, what foul sin must I have committed to end up in place like this? What wrathful god must I have angered? How many more times must I see myself dismembered and defeated before my suffering can truly end?

"The cycle must break! The cycle will break!" A mantra I tell myself every day and night.

Glaring down at my bandaged hands, I reflect upon the pain vibrating through my wrists as the Ayrshire serpents burrowed deep into my veins. Sometimes, the agony of that day strikes me in my sleep keeping me awake for days. It's as if the Ayrshire is trying to motivate me. Well, I don't need motivation! I will get out of here! I will break this cycle! I will see them again!

"I will see them again..."

Carlyle Hennegin

Carlyle has wandered for who knows how long, from the Ruins he has traveled night and day.

Following Alexia's guidance.

And now, in the Ghetto, he has found what he was being guided towards. Faithful. Children of Alexia.
He hears the voice of who he can only assume is their priestess. Calling for him. Inviting her brother to sanctuary.

"Sister!" Carlyle calls aloud, "Praise Alexia! I've found some sane people for once!"
He rushes forward, towards the voice of the priestess and, it seems to Carlyle, Alexia as well.
"My name is Carlyle Hennegin. Alexia has guided me here for a reason, and I believe it is your order." He says as he draws near the origin of the voice.
"What is your name, noble Priestess?"

Sam Diamandis

The Lost Ghetto, the slums of the slums. The place even boogeymen called 'the wrong side of town.' And here I was in the thick of it. Hell, I wasn't even sure what I was looking for in that gutter, just that I had to be there. I wasn't worried, I never was. Something always showed up, some Will-O'-The-Wisp in the darkness, conveniently pointing the way. I just had to look in enough alleyways, step over enough rubble of what was once a great city.

That was when I first heard that damn priestesses voice ring out through the unhallowed streets of the Ghetto, as calming and smooth as an out of tune piccolo. My hand slid into my coat, gripping the cold steel of my revolver before I realized the trick. Some religious hooey to amplify her voice.  Clever, but not something I would fall prey too. But I had seen my Will-O'-The-Wisp.

Now I just had to find her without letting her find me.

"Fang"

A voice rang out through the streets, beckoning the "Children" to follow her call, offering to guide those who traversed the ghetto to her. Fang smirked, there was no telling if it was some ambush, and even if it wasn't, the last thing he wanted to was to deal with anyone else who had followed the voice. But... Something would hunt at sunset, the voice said.

This was the most interesting piece of information. Maybe some worthy prey. But Fang didn't have enough information. He ignored the calls of the Priestess, and instead continued to roam the Lost Ghetto, venturing forth as if following some path that was already laid out for him, heading to some unknown goal.

"Alas, an adherent not from these parts!" I exclaim joyously. Though it is unfitting of a priestess to act ecstatically, I can't help but be excited at the prospect of meeting a brother who must have fables of the other cities to share. That the faith survives outside of my jurisdiction also puts my heart at ease. "Ah, forgive my poor manners, I am Alexia's Priestess of Warmth, Vouivre. I've been tasked with taking care of the settlement in the outer Ghetto, where a community of our Brothers and Sisters is gathered at the Monastery of Warmth. Do you come alone, Brother Carlyle?" I am inquisitive on our first encounter. Not because I don't trust the adherent in front of me, but rather because I've sensed the presence of far more Corrupted than just Carlyle. I must first know if Carlyle has any relation to the other parties involved, as there are those who are hostile to our faction. Even if I am a Priestess, it is of utmost priority to distinguish friend from foe. After all, even if the Ghetto is abandoned, the Corrupted remain Corrupted...

Spoiler:

Hmm, it seems like the Corrupted are going their own separate paths; some are headed here, while others are reaching for the witch. This is damned troublesome; I was told I'd get a package from the system, but I certainly didn't intend for my package to be hijacked on the way to the terminal! But there must be something that I could do... Anything... Abusing the system is forbidden, but in my case, I'm acting on the system's best interests. After all, what would it serve our network to lose fresh, capable fighters to a religion of fire-worshiping fanatics?!

I quickly work with the COMP. Hmmm, what would drive the witch off from being so close to my terminal while simultaneously drawing the Corrupted Seekers I've been given? Come, anything will do in this situation... Anything at all... Ah, I've got it! Terminal access: Technician... Permission acquired... Perfect.


Ahh, mother... How I long for your warmth... Mother... Mother... Is that you, mother... Why have you called me here, mother...? I can't see you, mother... Are you there...? Mother... Mother...

"Fang"

His instincts had led him here, to this woman. Fang watched her fiddle with her machinery, running his fingers over the hilt of the blade tucked into his belt. Somehow she had not noticed his entry, too focused on whatever it was she was doing. Fang rolled his tongue around in his mouth, silently pondering his next move.

She looked like prey. Weak. Distracted. Likely filled with precious data. An easy kill for a quick reward. But something drove him here, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he was drawn here for a reason. But that said, he wasn't going to just announce his presence and get jumped for his troubled.

The pale one drew his blade and held it at arms length, lightly rapping the flat of the blade against the woman's arm, completely harmless, but drawing her attention. He held the sword out, threateningly "Say something. Need to know you aren't feral."

A voice sounds from behind me. Looks like one of them's reached the terminal. Good, and he didn't even have to deal with the anomaly I just caused to gather them here, either. "Ah, a good day to you! Uh... Hold on, I have your file here somewhere.." I respond to him, trying to remember everything from the files the system sent. It's not easy remembering so much information in such a short time span, even if I am a Technician. Besides, our best asset isn't supposed to be our memory, it's our ability to navigate the labyrinth that is the network. "Ah, Fang, right? Right, right, oh. Oh..." My excitement diminishes as I recount his file.

This guy and the nomad were the two I wanted to deal with the least. Not because I don't like them, mind you. Rather, they're just... Well, too special for me, let's say. Regardless, I've a job to do, and it's a Technician's duty to be objective and fair in their treatment of others! "Well, I'll let you know that I'm a Technician; I hope you've been informed of our role." I turn my seat around to face my guest. To be honest, I was a bit anxious of facing him, but for better or worse I'm able to hide that anxiety under a heavy mask of cheeriness. "Of course someone like me won't be feral! Anyways, make yourself comfortable. Nothing can come to harm in the terminal, so feel free to take a moment and relax. I'm still waiting on the other few Seekers before I begin the briefing." I might be dumping too much information on the poor guy at once. Well, he's probably had a long journey, and if anything he's likely wondering a great many things at this moment. My voice was a bit loud and maybe overly excited earlier; I really hope he didn't take it that way. I clear my throat a bit before continuing, this time in a much softer voice. "Ah, but I don't mind answering your questions to the best of my ability. Just keep in mind the network has set limits on what I'm allowed to tell you though, but come come, tell me about yourself and what you desire, Fang!"

"Fang"

Fang raised an eyebrow at the fast talking woman, and sheathed his sword. She seemed loud and overly excited, and she was almost... nervous. It was annoying, but also endearing in some odd way. As long as he had lived, Fang had never once met anyone that in any way seemed "cheery". It was, in a way, refreshing. Fang decided that the woman was certainly not prey. He found her too interesting for that.

The construct folded his arms and leaned himself against some bit of unimportant looking machinery. "Myself? What I desire?" Fang closed his eyes and took a long moment "You're familiar with the system? You could likely tell me more about myself than I could tell you. I don't know. I have no memories beyond a year and a half ago, and I understand little of this city. Least of all who the hell you are, or your job."

Fang sighed. He didn't like talking about himself. He searched his memories. He couldn't remember talk to anyone for as long as he could remember back. But at the same time... surely he had spoken to people in his life time? He shook of his inner thoughts.

"I desire a great deal. Power. To become stronger is my primary concern, I don't care how it happens. If it means I have to hunt ferals, or cut down anyone rich in data, I'll do it. I'm weak. But I refuse to stay that way." He shrugged. This likely wasn't a good conversation to have with someone he wasn't going to kill, someone who may be beneficial to him. He should try to open up. Who knew when he would get another chance?

"Well. I suppose there's something beyond that. I want to learn about myself. What I am. My memories. Things like that." He shrugged again awkwardly. No. No, he definitely didn't like talking about himself. This was wrong. He rushed to change the subject.

"Who are you? What is this place, why can no one come to harm here?" He hesitated "The hell is a Seeker?"

"Yes, Sister Vouivre, I travel alone." Carlyle attempts a smile, obviously remembering something horrific.
Carlyle bows and blesses the Priestess as is proper fashion.
Straightening up, Carlyle began to look around absentmindedly, taking in his surroundings.
"Alexia has led me here for a reason... What might that be, Sister Vouivre? Are our brothers and sisters in distress?"

Salvek "Forge" Correntius

"Children of Sin, where do you wander at this late hour?"

The voice of a woman echoes throughout the ghetto.

"I come to give you warning; the beast will wake at sunset, and when she awakens, she will seek food for her young. Find shelter quickly; lest you come as sacrifice to the Holy Beast. If you so desire, we can give you sanctuary in Alexia's monastery. If you desire additional counsel, then merely speak, and I will find you through your voice."

I've only ever known the monastery as a haven for those who follow the Cult of Fire; those who still find something to believe in. As for me, my soul follows a path of its own. As begin to make my leave from the Lost Ghetto, the Arcane once again begins to electrify the nerves in my wrists causing me to stop. Is the Ayrshire trying to send me a message?

"Your monastery offers no sanctuary for a man such as me, Priestess, but I am curious, what is this Holy Beast you speak of?" I call out to the voice against my better judgement as my right hand grips tightly around the hilt of my war hammer.

"Not anymore so than they have been for the last decade or so..." I respond to Carlyle. "Truth be told, I myself haven't any idea why you've come here. Though we have been at the mercy of the Holy Beast for many years, she has been merciful in her dealings with us, so long as follow our curfew and praise Alexia." I tell the adherent. The fact that Carlyle tells me he comes alone worries me. I can clearly sense there are others here; including one that is satiated with bloodlust. Then, I hear another voice in the darkness resonating with my own. It tells me that it does not seek sanctuary. But it asks me of the Holy Beast. I respond through the echoes of the street, my voice reaching every corner of the district. "Do not fret, Child of Sin. We will always have room in our hearts to accomodate you, so long as you too find room in your heart to accomodate for our Lady Alexia. Alas, I'm getting off topic, now. The Holy Beast is Guivre, Mother of Wyverns." I then redirect my attention to Carlyle "I shall show you to the monastery shortly, before the Beast awakens..." Suddenly, I hear another bloodcurling scream. No, this time it's not coming from the barbarian. This one is far more... Primal... "My apologies, it looks like there's a change of plans, Carlyle." They shouldn't have awakened so soon... "We must find shelter immediately!" Damn it... Damn it... Damn it! If one of her children has awakened already, could this mean Guivre too...! This is really, seriously bad.

Spoiler:

"...Mother... Mother... Is that you over there...? It's so dark... I can't see anything... But mother... I can sense you... Who are those... Creatures... Beside you. Do they threaten you, Mother? Are you in danger, Mother...? No... I must protect Mother... Mother... Mother...!

Technician

"Hmmm, I suppose I can't blame you for not knowing if you don't even know anything about yourself." I let out a sigh. "Alright, a Technician is one of the administrators of Dongjing's network, given physical form. We run and administer the system for both the Pure and the Corrupted, although nowadays our work is almost exclusively with your kind. Now, a Seeker is a term we use for those who desire Power beyond imagination. See, some Corrupted survive by hunting, or by scavenging. Seekers, however, are those that pursue great adversary in the quest for power." I pause for a moment to make sure Fang is following. "Alas, though I am a Technician, I know nothing about you. Aside from that your existence is an anomaly itself, otherwise you are as much of a mystery to me as to yourself." I take a look out the window of my terminal. "Ah, it seems like she's been shaken. Good. I won't let you have things your way, witch."


I am too late. In a mere moment, a juvenile red wyvern, still many times larger than me, sweeps down towards us, its sights set on tearing apart the adherent Carlyle. "No, stop! Please, I beg of you!" I call out to the speeding wyvern. But it's no use. Although the wyvern will not hurt me, it cannot hear me. Then, I catch in the corner of my eye the barbarian; his clothes and tact distinctify him as a Kjarnöri... This is really, really bad. The bloodlust emanating from him is enough to dull my senses, so much so that I lost track of the individual spying on me. I call out to the streets in my desperation. "You, who claims you need no sanctuary. Do not be fool, the circumstances have changed. A wyvern has awoken in the dead of night! Your life is very much at risk! If you value your sanity, follow my voice and come to the Sanctuary. I ask this of you not as Priestess, but as fellow Child of Sin!"

"Fang"

A Seeker. One who desires Power beyond Imagination. Not a hunter, no filthy scavenger, but someone who would pursue great adversaries in a quest for more power. Fang's eyes practically lit up at the thought. "A Seeker, is it? I've decided. Whatever else I am, I am a Seeker first." He nodded more to himself than the Technician, tapping his foot eagerly.

She hadn't quite answered all of his questions, and she didn't explain anything about himself that he didn't already know. The Technician looked from the window and mumbled something about a witch. "Talking to yourself now? Something I should know?"

Carlyle brandishes his spear, pointing it at the wyvern, and begins reciting holy words.
After this prayer, he speaks the word 'consecration' and summons the Fires of Solarus.
A circle of flame a decametre, (ten meters), in diameter sprung up, filling him and Vouivre (and anyone else within it that is sane) with strength and absolute peace of mind. While weakening and inhibiting the abilities of all those who are 'insane' within it (the wyvern when it gets there)
"What do you suggest, Vouivre?" Carlyle inquires, skipping formalities, "I don't see a place to hide, and i doubt we could take this beast alone..."
At that moment Carlyle notices a strong sensation, a presence.
bloodlust.
He turns to see a man, not to far from him.
He calls out
"YOU! READY YOUR BLADE! WE HAVE A DRAGON TO SLAY!"
He turns to the Priestess
"Can you fight? If you have no weapon, you can use this."
Carlyle unsheathes a knife, and hands it to the Priestess.
"Any other suggestions before we commit to this course?"

Sam Diamandis

I slid into the cover of darkness and shadow, my eyes going wide at the sight of the great beast bearing down upon the two who I had been watching, listening to, from my hiding spot in the dust and twisted metal.  I reached for the heavy piece of steel that was my lifeline, knowing it would be impossible to slay such an otherworldly beast alone.

As I raised my arm to shield the light of godly fire from my eyes, a being filled with rage and destruction appeared, eager to do battle.  A being with an untamed desire to kill.  I felt glad his eyes weren't trained on me.

But still, 'alone' wasn't an accurate assessment.  The wyvern could be slain.

I raised my gun and fired from my position in the shadows, bullets streaking through the air towards the creature.

Ingvar Jarisleifsson
Status: YES! FINALLY! ENEMIES! 

"YOU! READY YOUR BLADE! WE HAVE A DRAGON TO SLAY!"


A miracle of battle! All other words were unheard - unneeded! Ingvar Jarisleifsson brandished his blades and let out a warcry that would stir the blood waters of hell itself. 

"YES! FINALLY!" the ichor-drinker shouted and charged forward like a madman. He closed the distance between himself and the wyvern as quickly as he could - weapons raised. Approaching the creature from its side, Ingvar practically dove onto the scaled beast's wing as it flapped its heavy appendage to create a spectacle of terror. 

It was completely caught off guard due to the darkness of the night and the fact that it had been focussed only on the faithful. Ingvar would have made the creature stumble if he had been heavier as he plunged his blades into the wing's softer flesh. "AHAHAHAH!" he laughed with ear-splitting joy as he hung onto his weapons.

Salvek "Forge" Correntius

"You, who claims you need no sanctuary. Do not be fool, the circumstances have changed. A wyvern has awoken in the dead of night! Your life is very much at risk! If you value your sanity, follow my voice and come to the Sanctuary. I ask this of you not as Priestess, but as fellow Child of Sin!"

I let out an anguished grunt as the burning pain in my arms grows hotter by each passing second. I break into a sprint toward the monastery until I come upon the sight of a barbarian riding his beast's wing by the hilt of his swords.

"Any other suggestions before we commit to this course?"

"The creature's sight is numbed in darkness. Think you two Lightbringers can do that?" I inform the Priestess and her companion as brush my way in between them.

As the monster barrels toward us, I release the bindings from my arms - exposing a violet-azure aura - and break left for shelter behind a column. I swiftly withdraw one of my grappling hooks from a leather pouch. Before the creature can even reach the Priestess, I rocket the hook across the beast's back and the pull the rope back full-force causing the hook to puncture through the left wing's joint.

"Got it!"

Taking a tight grip around the rope, I quickly begin to circle around the column pulling the creature into a corner and away from the Priestess and her so-called Children of Sin.

"Now, while it's trapped! Attack!" I call out to the man accompanying the Priestess. Meanwhile, the Wyvern screeches out in pain as it's attention turns toward me. I throw my arms forward using my shields to deflect the flames as I break for better cover.

"Oh, excuse me Fang," I respond to the curious one. "You see, the Ghetto's been in rough shape for anybody to live here for the past 50 years, ever since the beast Guivre showed up. So much so that since then, the Ghetto's been dubbed as 'Lost.' However, that's not absolutely true; the same time that beast showed up, so did the witch, Vouivre. Using the peoples' fear as her weapon, she guided those who remained in the Ghetto to gather in her monastery, where she's kept them since her arrival." My face is clearly contorted in disgust. But it doesn't matter; I want Fang to know my disgust for the witch. "Every time a Corrupted wanders into the Ghetto, she's guided them to her monastery to bring more worship for her 'Cult of Fire.' And those who don't follow her but choose to remain, thinking they've found sanctuary free of hunters, scavengers, and other threats commonplace whence they came... They get consumed by the Beast, until they eventually succumb and end up at the monastery at their wits ends, at the mercy of the beast and the witch." I pause to make sure Fang has digested my words. "Here's the weirdest part; none of the beast's children nor the beast herself have ever harmed the witch."


I feel a piece of metal strike my scales at the speed of sound. And a strange warmth that tingles down my chest. Annoying. But nothing more. Do these predators really underestimate me so to think that their tools will bring harm to me...? I glance at the direction the projectile came. Though I cannot see, I can sense the presence there. All I need to do now is... No, wait. Stop.

...Stop... ...Stop...! It hurts! I unconsciously let out a scream. These evil creatures are hurting me, and they're going to hurt mother, too! No, I can't allow this. I feel spines dug into my wing flesh... Chains piercing into the bones of my wings... I let out a cry of agony. I have to save mother. Even if I myself am hurt...! I desperately flap my wings and force myself off the ground of the city, recklessly crashing into the glass-stained mountains en route. Even if I am hurt. Yet I know, there are two predators on me right now.

I can feel the grips on me loosening, and the mountain I am scaling breaking, no doubt its broken shards digging into the skins of the pursuers who have latched themselves onto me, as it is to me. If I can at least separate these two from mother, then maybe she will have time to escape. Mother... Mother... Please be safe... I will take flight high above the clouds. But I will come back. Mother... Please be safe.


"No, stop!" I desperately cry out. "Do not hurt the wyvern! I beg of you!" Carlyle hands me a knife, perhaps expecting my assistance in harming the child of the Holy Beast. Then I remembered; these people do not see the wyverns as I do. I must bring myself to their rational if I am to convince them. "If you hurt the wyvern now, you will enrage Guivre. I beg of you, do not invite her fury upon us. I beg of you..." I fall to my knees, watching the barbarian dig his blades deep into the wyvern's wing-flesh. Another man has also rushed into the scene, and binded the wyvern's right lower wing-joint to a long rope with a grappling hook. The man hastily tried to tie the other end of the rope around a column, but before he was able to secure it, the wyvern shrieked and flapped its wings desperately, and took flight. Its flight was far from majestic, as it recklessly crashed into the windows of a skyscraper en route, the shards of glass digging into itself, the barbarian, and the grapple-man. I can see the wyvern desperately attempt to scale the building, and I take note of it flinging its body wildly into the building in an attempt to shake off the attackers. No... I don't want to see this anymore. This is far too cruel a scene for me to take.

"Stop... Please... Let the wyvern go," I begin to cry. I want to close my eyes. I don't want to see this anymore. But I knew that if I didn't do something, everyone here would just get hurt. "It only wants me. Please, release the wyvern and get away from me." I pause for a moment. Without me, how would these travellers find solace when the dawn comes? Alas, but there is one other shelter safe from Guivre's fury. But I had hoped not to guide these travellers there so soon. "...There is still another place of shelter aside from the monastery; a terminal administered by the Oracle. It, along with the monastery, are the only places safe from Guivre's wrath. Follow the path not beaten, where the lights still shine, and you will eventually find it. I'm sure now why you have been gathered here. This time it is the will of the Oracle, not Alexia," I tell the travellers with disappointment.

"Brother," I turn to face Carlyle, returning his knife to him, "perhaps another night, you will come visit the monastery, and join our brethren in worship. Alas, tonight is not the night. Now hurry, find the Oracle's terminal. And do not follow me. I will draw the wyvern's attention. You and the others must reach the terminal before dawn. Lest the Holy Beast come to consume you."

"Fang"

Fang ran his fingers over the hilt of his blade as the Technician explained the Ghetto and it's beastie, Guivre. "A witch and her beasts, terrorizing the Ghetto." He thought on his new identity as a Seeker, and glanced over towards the Technician. "You seem to have a personal distaste for the witch, as you call her. I've decided to hunt the beast, as well as it's children. Would you like me to cut her down as well?"

Fang made the offer out of generosity, the Technician had been fairly helpful. The offer sounded cold and heartless, hanging in the air. Fang didn't wait for an answer. "You know my name, isn't it only fair you tell me yours?"

Ingvar Jarisleifsson

Up, up, and up they went - dragged against the side of a highrise skyscraper. The dragon-rider buried his face in the wyvern's fleshy wing to shield it from the shards of glass that were boring - coming in all shapes and sizes - into the parts of him that his armor did not protect. But he held on to the hilts of his blackened steel swords for dear life and the glory of it all. Luckily for Ingvar, the winged-beast was unable to snag the man against anything that might have ripped him off.

And so he stayed like that, hanging onto the creature - shards burying themselves into his back - until the wyvern finally ran out of building to drag its hijackers against. The beast kicked off - finally taking true flight. It flapped its wings mightily as it battled for altitude against gravity. Ingvar knew that he would need to move off of the leathery appendage before he was shaken and thrown off. 

"Aaargh!" the beast-grappler grunted loudly - pulling his right sword out of the creature's flesh and pulling himself up with the strength of his left arm. "Grragh!" Ingvar re-plunged his sword further up the wing. Ingvar continued up this way - one arm at a time and fighting against the wind and cold that rushed into his face and against and over his body. 

He looked back down towards the wyvern's tail when he finally reached the point where the creature's wing met its body. "Hahaha! Yes, good! Ha!" the northerner shouted down when he saw that there was actually a man still hanging on by a long rope - wildly swinging in the wind.

"Now, then," Ingvar said casually as he continued a short ways onward - the sharp protrusions that were on the wyvern's hide began to cut and scrape his hands and forearms as he went. This defense only managed to slow Ingvar down - having found the correct spots to stick his bladed climbing gear - as he had finally made it to where he wanted to be: the middle of the creature's back.

Ingvar pulled one of his bloodied swords out of the wyvern's hide and looked at it lustfully - keeping himself steady with both legs slung over the creature's spine and one hand gripping onto his other sword which was still stuck inside the winged demon. 

"Blood for the Bloodlord," he growled to himself and licked the ichor off of his weapon. Instantly, his blood and eyes turned white as his god's blessing took over his body - actually healing the cuts and wounds as he mutated. Ingvar's skin began to harden and crack in places and turn a brownish red color. Spikes - quite similar to the ones on the wyvern that had just cut him earlier - erupted in places on his body: larger spikes from his back and the back of his shoulders that actually broke through and out of his iron armor - replacing his armor in a sense. Two more large protrusions also sprouted from the back of each of his elbows - they looked like they could be used as weapons of their own. His forearms also grew these spikes at a very angled direction - up towards his hands. His fingers also hardened to become more jagged and pointy - much like armored claws. Other than that, Ingvar's skin had become tougher and harder like leather.

K'atya "Kay" Oyenki
Status: In mourning

"My blessed one, do not fret over the loss of our departed Fae. There is a new path for you."

Mother's soothing words lifted my spirits. I had known no world outside of Fae sanctuary and now there seemed too much world left unseen.

A gnawing force pushed me in a direction, which I could only assume was Mother guiding me down her changed path. During my time with Fae, I had learned about the differentiating sectors and for my trial, I was to pick one to embark on. The Lost Ghetto held a haunting beauty in its abandoned glory. There were tales of a beast that plagued this land and my trial was to bring back a part of this beast, but now that the sanctuary was lost, there was no point searching for it any longer.

"Children of Sin, where do you wander at this late hour? I come to give you warning; the beast will wake at sunset, and when she awakens, she will seek food for her young. Find shelter quickly; lest you come as sacrifice to the Holy Beast. If you so desire, we can give you sanctuary in Alexia's monastery. If you desire additional counsel, then merely speak, and I will find you through your voice."

That was not Mother's voice. Was the world outside filled with other spiritual beings? Ones like Mother? I did not dare trust a separate voice and I did not dare speak in fear that this other voice would hear me. The forcing pull from the opposite direction instead held me steady on its path.

The buildings towered over like fallen giants, blocking out the equally grey sky. I can almost imagine the city when it was booming with life and a combustion of Corrupted and Pure. And now it was just this. A graveyard of what used to be and what was now no longer.

Trekking through, I kept my head scarf fastened to my face to help breathe through the dust that never quite settled. That force directed me around a corner where I saw two figures and a terminal up ahead. A man and a woman.

A barely audible whisper escaped my lips, "Mother, give me strength." And the force grew stronger as I approached the first two I have ever seen that were not Fae.