Mage Trip

[Chachoregard]

Nevereradnar only shrugged as he continued to eye the man being trampled and bitten by the strange curiosity that was the creature, and began to stand out more and more as he saw more people. Clearly, he thought that this was an absolutely massive cultural and racial melting pot in this city, and he found that with a bit of comfort. Where he once lived, he saw the same people over and over again, so the change of pace was a refreshing, albeit disturbing look. "It's not claimed, so feel free to sit," he said as he continued to eye the winged man with such curiosity. He wanted to ask questions to the man, but felt like he shouldn't at all.

But this was no time to be prudish and conservative, he was so interested in this. "Sir, are you by any chance alright?" he asked, careful to not seem like he was intruding on the man's own personal events.

A quarter of the city away, the man known as Twinrevanoe woke up. It wasn't so much as him awakening himself, but the sound of a large thump emanating from below his floor. He awoke with a gasp as he threw away the covers from his bed. He sighed as he clutched the side of his head and groaned slightly. Every so often, he would be awakened by the sounds of other, rude neighbors and it would leave him short of sleep and abundant in irritability. He sighed and looked around, his eyes progressively getting used to the darkness. It seemed to him like Dawn was still a couple of hours away, and seeing how he was rudely woken up, there was no reason not to take advantage of the opportunity.

As he sat up in his bed and swung his legs to the side of the bed, it became very apparent of an unknown physical characteristic of his. Two large wings were located just below his shoulder blades, and they were close to being the same height as him. On one side, there was one that was feathered and it was a whiteish color, albeit for some grime and dirt that was situated on it. On the other side, a large, dark red colored scaled wing was folded, streaks of where old wounds were situated stood out like a sore thumb. He hid them from the general public, because he wasn't very trusting of people. People tend to get very nervous when they spot a very tall man with wings overlooking you down and asking for a job, so he kept them hidden by wearing a trenchcoat. He had them ever since he was a teenager, which people gave him nick names as 'Twin the Angelic Demon' and 'Twin the Tall-Winged Freak'. He didn't hear the latter so much as the former, but it still was very personal for him.

He sighed as he rubbed his eyes and started grabbing his stuff, grumbling about the overall rudeness of his neighbors. At least the good thing would be he wouldnt have to see them for a long time.

[Cosmos]

An almost visible cringe overcame the lycanthrope as a yell rang out through the tavern, bounced off all the walls, and seemed to bludgeon him straight in the skull. His ears shot back, and he closed the eye on his hardest-hit side, accompanied by the sinking of his head into his shoulders. Gradually the atmosphere settled, but by the time the lupine regained his composure, the woman was already upon him. He looked up at her with no trace of any manner of intimidation whatsoever, determined to have his conversation.

He scowled, and opened his teeth to let a protest escape his throat, only to bring them together for a growl as another sudden, piercing cry rattled the atmosphere of what he had hoped would be a quiet night. Unfortunately for the wolf, it also rattled his nerves, and caused his face to contort into a more defiant scowl than before.

"No." was the only thing he could think of saying. He could have barked something about finishing his drink, or made up some fake spiel about his rights (which would probably get him horribly mangled anyhow), but all he could manage was 'No.' She interested him quite a bit, yet he couldn't put this fact into words that he was sure wouldn't have immediately dire consequences. He simply glared back in his rebellion, lunar rage rampaging within him with an increasing need to be fed.

[Kaidona]

Though his attentions were quite well occupied with the sizable monstrosity tearing away at the appendage he relied heavily upon for flight, the energetic and noisy fellow, after a swift “I STILL FEED YOU, ASSHOLE,” allowed himself a moment to turn and squint towards Nevereradnar. Pain molded his features into a tense grimace, yet something in its creases remained almost aggravatingly matter-of-fact. “Absolutely fine,” he strained through his teeth, whose tipped canines glistened with subtle edges in the sickly yellow light of the bar’s front door. “Shit happens all the—”

His voice sputtered out, giving way to the grotesque sound of a hollow, grinding crunch and a wet pop. His face suddenly looked like it might have turned red—it didn’t, though it seemed it desperately wanted to—while that grimace fell away. In the next instance, though one may have thought it took much longer, those crimson-marked features twisted lividly into a fiercely horrific scowl. “You,” he snarled, his voice a dark oath oozing from the lips of odium’s growling maw, “despicable, meretricious spawn of a stygian wombat CUNT!”

Inside the tavern, away from the particularly graphic vocal excretions, platinum lupine eyes narrowed upon fiery red-orange, and the woman’s jaw shifted forward, as though in recognition of the stubborn immobility as a challenge. Without word, and barely a twitch of the lip as any semblance of a warning, she skirted around the wolf-man’s table in a step and a half with a pirouette turn, snatched his chair, and swiftly yanked it out from beneath him.

“Now,” she spat viciously, falling back with it, and then raising it, as though to brandish its legs at him. “A bloodsucker stalling like a bitchy teenager will not keep me under this gods-forsaken roof,” she added, a harsh ring of warning on the tones of her silken voice. “I can call Kolkfjaer and his horror in here. I wasn’t bluffing about the Kissaragon just outside. As a matter of fact, that screaming you heard was its very handiwork.”

Meanwhile, toppled to the sidewalk, the winged man, Kolkfjaer, upon making the severe extent to which he had been so incensed abundantly apparent, withdrew his arms to his chest, tucked his other wing against his side, and flattened to the concrete. Hatred billowed outward with the sudden displacement of air, carrying loose feathers astray on its sludgy, corrosive current, before casting them to the ground and breeze alike. Despite the ongoing mangling, there was a moment of consideration. With a sharp rightward pivot of his hips, he craned his good leg around to wedge his foot beneath Slyngelstater’s chest, reaching across with the respective arm to press a hand beneath the beast’s forelimb, and then, with a strength a man his size should never have been able to contain—especially not after considering the amount of dark ooze pooling around the other leg—he shoved.

The dark monstrosity vaulted unexpectedly backwards, and as feathers, flesh, sinew, muscle, and bone tore out of the offended wing with it, Kolkfjaer lurched swiftly upright, the air gripping his shoulders burning with fury. His eyes, seething, took only as long as to register the mouthful of wing hanging out of Slyngelstater’s maw, before the appendage in question flared out, flaunting the new grotesque hole.

“SWALLOW IT!” he shrieked, fighting awkwardly to his feet. His wings extended, fluttered and thrashed much like a wounded bird trying to fly. “SWALLOW IT SO I CAN WATCH YOU FLOUNDER LIKE A CUB RIPPED MERCILESSLY FROM THE WOMB!!”

[Serephix Vamlyn]

Leo sat next to the mage, grinning softly as he watched the large creature's interaction with the avian. "Looks like he's alright, no need to fret. It does seem the two share a kindered relationship." Leo chuckled at the last part. "I hope the bar reopens soon, I'd like to sit down in a nice chair. It's been a few months since I sat on anything but stone or grass." He grinned and stretched softly a pop sounding from his chest.

Meanwhile up on the roof of the building the light from the runes grew brighter as the blade's flesh began to stretch forward toward Serephix, he swallowed hard, this power would grant him the ability to obliterate anything in his path, but it also meant giving control of his body to the demon locked within the Blood of Damnation. The black tendrils seized Serephix' arms and legs, wrapping around his chest and slowly creeping upward to his head. He growled as the thick tenticals held him still even if he wanted to move, he couldn't now. The fleshy tendrils seeped forward the very tips of them pressing against Serephix's armored chest.

Within the building the unconcious barkeep began to stir, the mark on his neck began to glow. His eyes flew open shining a bright scarlet from deep within. Awkwardly the barkeep stood and began to drag it's feet toward the bar entrance, his mouth ajar, a small stream of drool pouring freely. Slowly making his way past the two arguing remaining sentient's within the inn, he slowly grew closer and closer to the closed entrance.

[Chachoregard]

Twinrevanoe continued to adjust his clothing properly while eating what seemed to be the last loaf of bread that was in his home, coupled with what seemed to be butter. He didn't eat much, he just ate what he could and would eat later, anyways. There was a note besides him, which was written in his own handwriting which detailed to the owner of his tenement about his most recent excursion to a far away place. He always left a note and the combined rent of three months, to prevent from him being kicked out of his home and be forced to live in the streets. Again. His home consisted of being the second story atop a somewhat bustling cafe shop. It didnt seemed like they were there, but the earlier large thump indicated that the owners have started to prepare everything. He sighed as he took one final look and fastened the holster of his sword to his chest and fixed his trenchcoat to avoid anyone from seeing his wings and headed out.

As for Nevereradnar, he was still fascinated by the events thatwere happening. In fact, if it wasn't for the man telling he was alright, he would have been a bit worried. Never had he seen such a person be mangled and chomped so brutally, it was almost something out of a horror book. He then turned his attention to the creature that was sitting besides him and shook his head slightly, "I don't think the bar is opening soon anyways, some idiot rather injured the poor barkeep, so I doubt it's opening soon," he said with a sigh as he remembered that strange man and shook his head, "Besides, it seems that in a short while that I must take my leave anyways, wouldn't want to be late to meet the mercenary I've hired," he added and nodded his head.

It was then that an "err..." started to burble out of his mouth as he tapped his chin and wondered something. "You wouldn't happen to know where the North Entrance is, would you?" he asked.

[Cosmos]

This time a true wince managed to make its way to the dark lycanthrope's face. He could get into yelling rages himself sometimes, but did the one outside the door have to be so god damn loud? He was half-way through the process of rubbing the ear that faced outside when he suddenly found his jaw being introduced to the table by gravity. The hollow thunk of his protruding fangs hitting hard wood resounded throughout the now mostly-empty bar, and though his legs had managed to catch the lower part of him, his upper half had been lazily slumped over the table and hadn't quite been so fortunate. The short grunt that emitted from his throat was partially muffled by the rattling of glasses, but the lower, more growly of his sounds was quite clear as he lifted himself up from the table using primarily his arms.

"Good," he told her, "Maybe that way I can tell him to knock it off with all that cursed shouting."
His tone was significantly less abrasive than the last time he opened his mouth, due to a moment of clarity giving forth to the realization that being snippy would not make him any acquaintances. He slowly shook his head, tossing his shoulder-length black hair about, and his bangs straight into his face, which he remedied by a simple jerk of his head to the side.
"And you... You..." Before he could carry on, he suddenly directed his attention towards the door of the bar with piqued alertness. His pointed lupine ears, usually laying back a bit, shot straight up. Though most of the regularly spoken dialog was distorted by the walls and door of the tavern, he was able to pick up but one word from Nevereradnar's mouth - "mercenary." He remembered the conversation he had overheard, though his urge to stick his nose in it had diminished due to certain distractions.

"You interest me," came his blunt statement as he turned his head back to the woman, giving her that unwavering stare. There was simply no other way of saying it, and she could probably sense him and what he was, especially at a time like now where his lycanthropy and vampirism both were flaring, but he didn't care. He felt connected to her somehow, and he was steadfast in his determination to find out why.

[Kaidona]

Dark blood, tainted, still red, yet almost a purple burgundy, and of an old and stagnant strain to one of keen nose, ran slow and thick from both leg and wing as Kolkfjaer finally found his better leg. Mixing with watery digestive enzymes, it dribbled from the haphazard mass jutting out of the Kissaragon’s mouth, and as much as he may have willed it to, the animal swallowed nothing. Rather, in the grain of further contradicting his wishes, it let the worst of the blood in the mangled wing fragment drain, before spitting it out with a rough shake of its head.

“Bitch!!” Kolkfjaer snapped, even as pooled vitality began to recede, and the frayed edges of his wounds visibly twitched and shuddered. The crunched and shattered femur in his right leg, splinters of which had been exposed to open air, was slowly, yet visibly, drawing back and flattening down on its own, while obscenely pulsing muscle tissue around it extended out in thin tendrils, as though to weave his leg back together. Similar was happening to his wing; spines of new bone twisted out where old digits had been ripped out, spongy, then hard—all soft at first, before properly calcifying—and soon glistening with fresh periostea, while flesh and sinew threaded out to bridge violently torn gaps and connections. Feathers began as thin fibers spawning out of empty follicles, crowding together, merging, and then generating still more fibers from the solidifying quills, whose length and width varied in accordance to their position down the hollow spire. Those at the tip faded, then enriched to a deep, bloody red.

Inside, ‘To be perfectly honest, he’d slap you in the face for that,’ cried so piteously to escape the woman’s throat at the first response to come out of the werevamp’s maw, but, collectedly, she repressed the urge, and instead drew in a quiet, refining breath. There was something slightly elating about so callously meeting his face with the table like that, and she let the small bout of euphoria from it be her focus to rein in any further such compulsions. She knew better than that. Half-lidded eyes watched him blandly as nearby goings on tweaked an expanded awareness, and in the instant she opened her mouth to give a nonchalant reply, a familiar energy spiked into the room like a rhinoceros intruding on a dinner party.

Both voice and breath choked in her throat, and for a moment what seemed startled flabbergast overcame her face, until she whipped around to regard the man dragging himself in a shamble—not unlike the walking dead—across the chamber by that infernal vigor. She stiffened intensely, hackles rising, and from the depths of her chest—ostensibly twisting her face into a malevolent mask—came a growl of such feral distinction that it should not have been human. Her frame began to quake violently, her hands clenching into tight fists, while her feet whirled her away from the table, and slowly moved her towards the shuffling barkeep.

Back outside, entirely unperturbed by ebbing blood or reconstructing limbs, Kolkfjaer casually turned to the lion-creature sitting on the steps. A pointed ear, peeking out from the lengths of limp obsidian hair, twitched slightly at the second spiking flow of energy he picked up, but summarily he ignored it, leveling platinum gold eyes with the individual of his interest. “You,” he began, rudely pointing a clawed finger at the fellow, “…Cat. You do realize that it’s really unhealthy to be making cracking noises from your chest, right? Last I checked, the sternum was a solid bone, and had no neighboring—” a sudden flicker from a front window cut his thought short and drew his attention.

With a blink, he lifted his head, distractedly drooping his arm, until another flicker broke the flow of light spilling out of the bar windows. They were high up; at least chest level from the inside on a short individual, but he just barely caught a glimpse of the zombie-like bartender, before something huge slammed into the side of him, and then a wall-shaking THUD rattled the glass just a second later. A confused frown contorted crimson-marked features, furrowing thin, dark brows as the pale-faced man realized that whatever had done that was suddenly gone.

And then, just as abruptly, an immensely monstrous thing erupted out of the night-layered side of the building, shrouded in a vaporous blackness. Scarlet pinpoints, thirty-six of them, pierced through the abysmal murk—hungry beacons, chilling to one’s very core. In the obscurity of night, even its general shape was indiscernible, but as the creature, possibly large enough to swallow a man whole, charged up the side of the building, its massive, perhaps even bony, tail became apparent. Its mobile limbs, however, did not; in its wake, not a scratch, no evidence of its presence, had been left behind.

As it reached the roof, the vaporous shadows that seemed to pour out of it preceded it, however it only came so far as to latch onto the side of the wall and roof, before twenty of those terrible orbs, four of which hovered significantly higher than the others, moved independently of the rest. They seemed to glare odiously not only at the roof’s occupant, but the goings on, and then, within the next moments, a horrifically loud, guttural, hissing screech of a roar battered the rooftop, subsequently rending the night viciously asunder.

[Serephix Vamlyn]

Serephix' eyes flicked as far as they could but he couldn't see behind him. His back was facing the cause of the noise. He couldn't move, the black tendrils wrapped around him tightly tightening as the tips of the tendrils began to press into Serephix' flesh. The red light shined brighter as a wall of red energy shot up from the edges of the runes meeting in a dome shape. The blade flesh begaan to dig it's tendrils into Serephix as he cried out. A voice echoed throught the area seemingly from the minds of all near. "We need a scarifice!"

Back inside the bar, the barkeep's body began to hover, lifting from the ground it began to slowly hover out the window and upward to the roof.

The two eyes of the blade turned and ooked to the hissing creature, "Do not interfear!" It cried out at the beasts mind with the force of a bomb going off inches from your ear. The tendirls dug deeper wraping around Serephix' heart, tugging anf tightening around it causing him to cry out. The barrier around the ritual shined brightly blocking the view from the outside. The barkeep lifted upward to the roof and began to slowly pass through the barrier with ease, it seemed only those the blade allowed through could pass through the barrier.

From down below Leo smiled and stood a louder pop sounding from his sternum, I'll be okay. But for right now, I think there's trouble. Cor Lionis." The last word he spoke a bright energy pulsed in his right hand. The energy bursted in to tiny particals and from it a long katana had replaced it. The handguard a golden lion's head, and from it's maw the blade reached out. Leo turned toward the building, bending his legs in a low crouch he silently spoke the words, "Primal fury." Golden energy swarmed around Leo's legs as he pushed up, the energy bursting as he launched upward like a rocket, easily reaching the roof he landed firmly.

He looked at the spectical before him and snarled. He looked to the beast on the roof and the floating orb's in front of it. He knew this place was interesting.

[Chachoregard]

Nevereradnar quickly turned his body around and looked at what was happening. Since morning, he had not even an inkling of what would happen on his first day at Tiburon-Diente, and he was becoming increasingly weirded out by the city's cultural and supernatural melting pot.

This was not his problem. Not one single bit did it involve him getting involved into this, and he wished it to be that way. As he continued to watch the abomination thathad grown out of the bar and into the roof, he wondered how familiar it looked. He once read of Eldritch creatures disguised as regular people, but this was the first time he gotten a really close look. He was a bit scared, but extremely curious about it.

Then he turned his attention to Seraphix and glared slightly. He wasn't totally aware what kind of dark scripture was being uttered, but the sheer sounded of it made it seem eerily familiar. The voice he heard in his mind was odd, but it was not out of place. He wished he was not part of this, it was nearly dawn and he had to get there, but he couldn't help but feel drawn to it.

He started undoing the chains that were in his hands, the chain going "clink" as it detached itself from the book. The chain went limp and felled to the bottom as it continued to be in his metal bracelets and opened his book at a random page, and looked down. He was muttering something in a low tone with one hand, and in his free hand, a flaming fireball appeared within his hands and burning with such an intensity, yet his hand was not being burned by it. He closed his book and took a look at the fireball and hefting it a couple of times before hitting it towards Seraphix's way with a large smack of his book. If he gotten that...that...thing's attention, maybe he could buy that other abomination some time to do something.

[Cosmos]

He waited intently for what the woman would say for what to him felt like an eternity, but she had barely parted her jaws as the distortion of the goings-on outside the tavern finally made their way inside. Red-orange gaze followed over to the barkeep who had been previously disregarded, and it took no critical thinking on the lycanthrope's part for him to realize that something was amiss here. He had no idea what this something even was, though he could feel it surrounding him, raging above him, and flowing through his body with a frustrating intensity. He didn't know why - that is, until he looked back at the woman.

Her figure began to warp, and what could almost be called horror crossed the features of the staring wolfman as the environment itself seemed to distort. He rarely felt such an emotion, and it manifested within him as a heightened rage, but he could neither move nor take his eyes off her. Her frame began to painfully increase in size and length as an armored carapace erupted forth from her back, and her humanoid features twisted brutally into an amalgamation of heads, arms, and a countless number of teeth. Gradually she became encased in a black vapor, and the lycanthrope, half blinded by her horrifying aura, could not distinguish between one part or the next of whatever manner of hellish beast had overcome this woman.

Even after she had vacated the inside of the tavern, he still stood stunned. His eyes were simply not quick enough to follow the blow she had delivered to the bartender's reanimated body, and all he could do was stare as she left. The lycanthrope would have stood there for much longer had the grating roar of the hellbeast not pierced its way through the chaos and made its way to his ears, and the cry for sacrifice that followed was more than enough to enlighten him. He turned to the levitating figure of the barkeep, and he knew what he had to do.

The lupine charged after the body, his vampiric fangs flashing, and as his basal instincts took over, he lost all regard for the outside world. Leaping through the window, shattering whatever glass happened to be in his way, he tackled the prospective sacrifice to the ground. He took only a second for the regrets he always had toward such an inhumane act, but it was the same barbarousness he despised that kept him walking in the waking world. With a quick snap of his jaws, he buried his fangs into the man's neck, knowing that now his life had been pointlessly rendered useless.

All of this was so annoyingly asinine to him, and part of his anger stemmed from the fact that the bastard didn't leave when he walked out the door. Another part of him, a small fraction immune to lunacy, wished this incident would end as soon as possible, seeing as he had a shady mission to infiltrate tomorrow night.

[Kaidona]

The force of the blade’s scream may have borne some significance, were it dealing with a being of any normal range of fortitudes. As it were, however, the eldritch atrocity had been of a make wholly unfamiliar even to the ancient scripts of arcane lore. The astral assault made those twenty beacons blink for a moment, while the echoes bounced off the fortified walls of its mind, and it seemed to consider it for a moment, before it gathered them together with a rumbling breath, and then bounced the sword’s own shriek back at it with a snort, as well as the echoes alongside it. It made the noise akin to putting that same auditory force within the range of glass dunes.

Rather than dwell on its own retaliatory telepathic prowess, the immense beast rose higher off the edge of the roof, sucking in a long, audible breath, until an elemental fluctuation behind it whirled eight more of those piercing scarlet orbs about. Those intently regarded Nevereradnar for as long as it took to register the fireball he conjured and whacked airborne towards the middle of the roof, before they withdrew into their previous position, and the primary twenty swiveled to the side and ducked.

Down below, slumped so utterly that even the tips of his wings threatened to brush the ground below, Kolkfjaer watched the horrific monstrosity dart across the side of the building with all capacity for expression lost from his face. Indeed, his countenance had attained such an incredible blandness it was comical. “Shit,” he grunted, reflexively pushing clawed fingers through his hair. Lowering his attention from the roof, he regarded the mage for a moment, promptly tossing aside the offer previously bubbling to the surface of his mind, and then let his gaze drift over where he heard glass break for a second time.

In the same instant, shrouded talons lurched up from where they pulled black-cloaked body back around the edge of the roof and snatched lifeless feet, yanking the airborne sacrifice from the wall and pinning him to the roof outside the opaque line of light. Thick shadows obscured what the creature may have had for a face, but even through the horror, even through the crippling despair most would have felt in the presence of this thing, the terrible sensation of a wicked sneer burned through, and it was nothing short of derisive.

“Your lamb is forfeit,” a nigh incomprehensible snarl rumbled, intoned underneath by three eerily hollow voices layered together. “Abandon your folly, lest your foolishness deems you beyond the mental shortcomings of your host.” The elevated four beacons narrowed, that massive tail extending beyond the shroud lashing the sky. “I needn’t see you to know where you are or what your energy is doing. Your subtlety is severely lacking.”

Platinum golds remained locked in the general direction of the broken window for a long, long time, even as the eldritch monstrosity took command of a voice comprised of madness and horrors. Eventually, finally, Kolkfjaer seemed to push away whatever he had been contemplating and leisurely sauntered his way for the bar’s front door, lazily lifting a foot and kicking it open, rather than bothering to remove either hand from the pockets they had taken to. He took two steps in, and the door closed with a hollow THUNK, before his voice barked out a particularly sharp “FUCK.”

Meanwhile, Slyngelstater sat comfortably down on the sidewalk, watching the ordeal from down below with eyes half-lidded in typically feline fashion. This kind of stuff usually brought out crazy people in uniforms, right? Or other crazy people waving around weapons and skills. This place was big, wasn’t it? Didn’t that mean there’d be machines, too? Machines were fun. Breaking them was more fun. A long spine-ridged tail slid across the ground in deep contemplation, the large animal’s eyes blinking slowly. When would any of those things show up, he wondered?

[Serephix Vamlyn]

The mental assult that was reflected pinged harmlessly off of the impenitirble barrier the blade had created. "Who's trying to be subtle?" The blade called out, taunting the powerful various life forms right outside it's barrier. "I am Nightmare, slayer of billions and devourer of all. And once I have this one's body, I shall live again." The blade sent outward. The black tendrils dug deeper into Serephix' flesh, his eyes were blank of life as the fleshy tendrils began to spread within his body. Serephix' skin began to turn midnight black as his eyes began to flood with the color of blood. His body slowly began to grow larger as his cloths sunk into his body completely, though his flesh now had no detail in it. His hands grew into claws as his hair grew into thick long strands of solid fleshy dredlocks. Serephix' mouth and nose were sealed shut with the black skin, nothing but a flas surface replacing them. Serephix' body floated upward as his body began to become wrapped in a black tendril egg wrapping around him and sealing shut as the blade had completely vanished inside of what used to be Serephix.

Leo meanwhile on the outside pulled a long growl in his throat his eyes glowing softly before he released the growl, a roar of his voice sounded out, "Bloody Roar!" His voice echoed as visible sonic rings launched from his mouth and into the barrier harmlessly being absobed. "Damn!" He cried out.

Back down on the street a figure standing nine feet tall covered completely in a long cloak and cowl approached the building. The figure looked down at the sitting figure, a soft glow of crimson in two deep sockets burning in the cloaks hood. The figure looked up and gently began to rise, hovering upward until it reached the roof it stopped in mid air once it was level with the barrier. In a deep voice is spoke, "Move aside, I shall deal with this."

[Chachoregard]

Nightmare. The name itself sounded so familiar. It was then that he allowed himself to be pulled back into his vast knowledge of dark scriptures and start delving into all the known Eldritch Abominations he knew of. He was so inside his mind, that he only muttered, "Go right ahead" to the strange man that was already at roof level. He had a large knowledge of all kinds of arcane scripts that were thumped into his mind during his teachings, and this was something entirely new. His features darkened as he put his hand under his chin and thinked.

Close to the North Entrance, Twinrevanoe was sitting on a barrel, overlooking the increasing traffic that was coming to and from the city while eating what seemed to be a piece of bread with some sort of meat on it. He was overlooking the traffic as he continued to eat, looking for the man that he was hired to protect along the way. He was left wondering what did he mean by all those promises he was told about, and he wondered. It was still fairly early, the sky was just beginning to light up from the rising sun in the horizon, but he was sure that this was the right time. Unless something happened. He was a stranger to the city. He sighed as he took a large swig of a glass cup and smiled slightly. He took a little satisfaction in watching people go to and forth.

[Cosmos]

The lycanthrope had been so lost in his feeding stupor that he hadn't noticed himself being carried upwards along with the body of the barkeep. When the raging hellbeast grabbed the poor man and whipped him up onto the roof, she had taken a meal straight from the lupine, who thusly fell a few feet and landed directly on his rear.

He slowly lifted himself up, licking what little blood he had a chance to get off of his muzzle with a long lupine tongue. The way his body felt revitalized, empowered, and as if he hadn't just moments prior drank himself stupid; it was an obvious indication that he was indeed overdue for sustenance. However, he didn't seem to be rendered any more angry than he already was, despite the robbery of his blood source. His gaze finally made its way to the roof, though the light from the barrier made it difficult for his nocturnal eyes to distinguish anything but the twisted form of the woman. Her voice pulsed through his head hard enough to make the slightest cringe come over his fang-baring face, but he took solace in the fact that her motives were definitely the least evil of the two demonic displays.

The tall lupine still couldn't see the goings-on very well, so he then turned to regard to serpentine feline for a moment. His stare, still heavily scowled despite closely resembling the expression he usually had on his face, did not last long. He sniffed the air once, twice, and was again back to his beastly growling. He neither knew nor cared what or who this cloaked figure was. All he knew at the moment was the primal rage and need to feed that thrashed about in the depths of his mind. The last thing any of them needed was something showing up to further complicate things.

[Kaidona]

Inside the bar, Kolkfjaer was greeted with tatters. Everywhere. Fragments of gold and green strewn all over floor, almost as though a fashion display had rather suddenly, and violently, exploded. Displeased orbs of platinum gold briefly surveyed the floor in search of just how many pieces there were, until they found a pair of delicate, heeled dress shoes sitting pristinely in the middle of the floor, ostensibly untouched. Crimson-marked features scrunched, one of those hands emerging from an overcoat pocket to push limp bits of raven back, before the winged fellow sauntered forward with a grudging grumble, sinking down to pluck up the dress sandals.

Rising up, he eyed them warily a moment, as though merely looking at them would give him a case of the cooties, let alone touching them, before he shoved them each into the deep pockets of his overcoat, and then whirled about to slip back out.

“YOU SHOULD BE SUBLTE IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU!” the beast on the roof suddenly shrieked, its voices shaking the air so violently that a faint buzz of rattling windows rose into the vicinity. The shadows consuming it rippled torrentially, the scarlet beacons piercing through the haze flaring viciously, angrily. That massive tail ripped through the sky, as though daring to tear the very fabric of reality asunder, before a horrendous screech of a roar, overwhelming, boggling, surely deafening, shattered the night, pushing the vaporous black away from two terrible mouths sharing the same face, and rows of countless, jagged, immense, needle-like teeth. “HOW DARE YOU VIOLATE RITUAL LAW LIKE THAT!!”

The darkness around the beast roiled, whirled, as though it had taken on a life akin to fire; the monstrous mass shifted within it, and a deep snarl vocalized a long inward breath, before suddenly the eldritch horror reared back, lurched forward, and then thrust a pair of mammoth forelimbs into the barrier. “I SHOULD SWALLOW YOU ON THE SPOT!” it howled, as huge talons dug into the radiant wall with a fierce crackle. Not only was this creature heavy, but the energy of the soul was a formidable force. The beast’s assault did not carry the same weightlessness as those of Nevereradnar, or even Leo; this was an ancient soul, fully infused into its physical form, that was pressing against it now.

The barrier felt brittle to it. It could have been a dome of blown glass. Crackling spread outward from the points of pressure set upon by those horrid hooks, and at the very noise, the beast focused its weight downward. The cloaked apparition risen from the deep went unnoticed, despite its proximity to the massive creature. It didn’t matter. The hellbeast was furious. Berserk. It was intent on blood.

A vague blink cast itself at the street, and then around the vicinity, a clawed pinky carefully wiggling in the canal of a pointed ear, while pallid features scrunched, again, this time in a wince. By the gods that voice never stopped hurting. Picking his way down the stairs, the sinewy man largely ignored the goings on on the roof, not even deigning to glance at what in heavens the Kissaragon was looking at—and it was looking, it was quite intently staring with the same eyes that make you think it’s picking at your soul—and instead turned to regard the nearby spellcaster, whom, he noticed, seemed a mite lost again. He really was a slave to that whole pondering thing, wasn’t he?

“Oi,” Kolkfjaer ventured. “You’ve got somewhere to be, right? Northern end of town was it? Why don’t we go walking a bit before big, dark, and nasty up there ruptures somebody’s ear drum?” A thumb jerked skyward. “If this place has subways, it ought to have maps, I would think, eh?”

[Serephix Vamlyn]

The cloaked figure slowly hovered forward passing through the barrier as if it were not even in existance. The barrier tighten and formed heavier along it's edges the cracks seeming back together as soon as they were made. Ancient souls against ancient demons. The cloaked figure stopped several feet from the tendril egg. It dropped the cowl to reveal what at first seemed to be nothing more then a nine foot tall skeleton.

At a second glance however all could be seen. Horns grew from it's temples, stopping at a point just passing the eyes. They eyes themselves were deep pits of crimson with burning burgandy lights in their center. Six arms were scrunched at it's sides and they slowly began to pull outward. The first pair seemed to unfold several times from it's self, the length of it's arms six feet themselves as they bent and the clawed boney hands grasped the tendrils pulling them upward slowly. The second pain reached out and again unfolded only this time
shorter, only four feet as they began to tear the tendriled egg apart. The third and final pair of arms were of a normal length reaching outward and digging deep into the tendrils pulling them off as crimson light shined beneath the tendrils. As the skeleton did this he spoke calmly, his words seeming to liquify the air with a sense of serenity and peace, a sense of calm and tranquility.

"This man is young, he has delt with a demon far too soon then he should of and he will pay the price. But the price is not blood. The boy will lose his arm, and remain the keeper of the living blade. To keep the world turning, and it's denizins safe. You could not devour such a demon as Nightmare, he would simply release a barrier and you would explode. Nightmare is not a simple demon to be trifiled with, it is why the demon must remain in the blade, and for the boy to possess it."

The tendrils began to burn and turn to ash in the skeletons hands until a small eclipse of crimson hung softly in the air the enlongated sphere tounching the ground. "He will remain alive for now." The figure spoke again calmly.

[Chachoregard]

A loud incessant ringing became apparent in his ears as all he could hear was the muffled sounds of Kolkfjaer speaking. He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled incessantly until the ringing stopped and then blinked, grimacing slightly. "WHAT?" he shouted as the last of the ringing stopped in his ears. He looked a little bit confused as to what have happened, but quickly shook his head and sighed. He looked back at what was happening, but his attention for ancient souls and dark, eldritch demons was beginning to wane and started walking away, "Well, if you want to volunteer, that's fine," as he began to pass Kolkfjaer and motioning to him with his head to get himself in motion, "That mercenary is probably worrying right now as we speak," he said as he clutched his book and held it to his side.

In reality, Twinrevanoe was not worrying at all. He was calmly taking a sip of a cup that was filled to the brim with coffee, while overlooking what seemed to be a mostly eaten berry muffin. He burped as he then overlooked the scores of people that were either coming in or coming out of the Northern End of Town. He was used to potential jobs being irresponsibly late and he would always charge them a little extra for what he called 'valuable time and resources'. He pondered whether to eat what left of the berry muffin, but pondered about walking with an extremely full stomach and decided to not eat it and put his feet up on the table.

[Cosmos]

One long, towering step towards this new appearance was cut short by a soul-shattering yell. The lycanthrope parted his jaws as if to cry out in pain, but the roar that recoiled from his throat was easily overpowered by the voice of the raging beast. He pinned his conic ears straight back and held a hand to his head, as if to keep his brain from bursting within his skull. His scowl grew more and more agitated as the night wore on, and he wondered where exactly all these crazies sullying his city were coming from. He couldn't help but think he would have had a very nice night, had certain things not decided to happen to him.

He pulled his hand from his face to see nothing in front of him, and for a split second he hoped none of this was actually happening, and he and that woman were simply on their way to as nice hotel somewhere. But as he turned around and again looked up to the roof of the unfortunate tavern, such was not the case. He sneered malevolently, and considered jumping up there himself. Lately his snarling and displays of his gleaming saber teeth had been diminishing in effect within the cities, and he, being the valiant type, was intent on showing all of Tiburon what the lycanthrope was capable of. However, he only had time to turn around return his ears to their erect state before being faced with a decision.

He could butt in to the goings-on atop the tavern, in an effort to get that annoyance out of his hair, or he could go with the other two under the guise of someone who would guide them to the norther part of the city. But his stubbornness got the best of him, and he decided to put a little bit of effort into investigating both the woman and the spellcaster's mission. He would have to stall the other two until things calmed down a bit.

"Hey!" his deep voiced barked as he stalked towards the ones who spoke of leaving, "You're not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on."
His command directed itself at the both of them at once,as his desire to know what exactly the hell that thing was equaled his desire to dig up every detail he could about this other 'mercenary' and his exact threat level. The light from the ritual and an otherwise calm Tiburonian evening reflected in his eyes, illuminating the underlying blood lust that he wasn't sure he could control much longer, so the sooner this was over, the better for him, at least.

[Kaidona]

A deep snarl rumbled out of the monolithic abomination’s chest, the four crimson eyes piercing the darkness above its two mouths, which had quickly been obscured once more, narrowing disdainfully at the skeletal creature. “I have doubts you truly realize just what manner of creature it is you’re dealing with,” it hissed, curling its talons maliciously into the barrier. The energy lashing across its surface crackled loudly. “My atrocious existence cannot be so easily snuffed out, and it would be pure folly to assume otherwise.” That massive tail ripped through the sky again, before roughly whipping against the side of the building, the resounding thud of which shook the structure to its very foundations.

“Immense expulsions of energy are consumed by this hellish stomach as they are released. I would have been keen to regurgitate him after an ample period of his torture in there anyway.” Those four beacons narrowed still further. “I would rather refrain from contracting any absurdity wrought by his energy, lest it turn my intricate cerebral functions awry.”

It was at that utterance that Kolkfjaer finally took pause long enough to turn and look roofward, a mild hint of stupefaction quickly writing across his ghastly visage. “Did she…” he began to mutter, scrunching the side of his face, “Did she really just eloquently say ‘I wouldn’t want to catch the stupid’? Shit.” Regarding Slyngelstater next, he hissed loudly through his teeth, before turning around to recover his attention on Nevereradnar, soon falling into step.

Behind them, the dark Kissaragon finally rose off his haunches, tearing his attention away from the goings on on the roof to trot after them. It was stating to get boring anyway. He wasn’t much for watching battles of wit, which was what he deemed the incident to have become. Several paces forward, the werevamp’s voice charged over them; those long ears swiveled back to find him, but those massive, lethal paws failed to stop carrying him forward.

The same could not be said of his… master? …however, and as the monstrous beast lumbered past him, he paused, once more peering over his shoulder. “What, that?” A thumb jerked towards the roof again. “Wolf’s pissed is what’s going on,” he replied bluntly, returning that hand to the waist of his pants. “You’ve gotta do something really stupid or atrocious to manage that,” he added, chancing a glance upward toward the black-engulfed horror.

“This is ‘The end of the world is nigh and it’s all your fault’ pissed. Quite frankly, I blame the crotchety old bat that sired her for ingraining that shit into her subconscious, but there isn’t much you can do about that.” Platinum-gold discs drifted down to meet burning red-orange again, a feathered appendage or two extending absently outward, as though to chase away encroaching stiffness. “I dunno about you, but I’d be pretty keen to get out of range of the next shriek she might assault the universe with. I sure as fuck would. I might only go deaf for a few seconds if she blasts out my eardrums, but it still hurts like a huge bitch, and I have enough survival instincts left to avoid that.”

[Serephix Vamlyn]

Aricath merely glanced at the beast. "You dwell in matters you don't understand." He looked back down at Serephix who stood gripping his arm. His normal arm was gone now, all the way up to the shoulder was now a clotted blood colored leathery fleshed arm. The arm was overly sixed for Serephix' body, the arm was thick and from the shoulder portruded crude curved spkies. The hand was large, and had sharp pointed fingers. Serephix groaned and cried out in pain. he dropped to his knees and stared in horror at his new arm. He lifter it up and looked at the palm, his eyes wide at what he saw.

Starring at him, from the center of the hand;s palm, it being in the palm itself, part of the arm, was one of Nightmare's eyes. It blinked and he moved the palm away. He reached out his normal hand and grasped the Blood of Damnation. He used it as a crutch to push himself up to where he's standing. He stumbled and looked back at Aricath. "I...I...failed." He grimaced. Aricath noodded, "Indeed you did. Before you can be successful you must have the other blade. Now cime, I shall take you to safety." Arocath wapped all six of its arms around Serephix and in a flash of crimson lightning the two were gone leaving only a smoldering black patch on the roof.

Leo sighed heavily and sat down on the lip of the roof. He looked out at the sky, "Well, huh...strange night....

[Chachoregard]

Nevereradnar only sighed exasperatedly as he turned around to face them and sighed again, "Now that you've found out, we're leavin'," he said rather brash and rude about it too, he was not exactly a fan to keep someone waiting, especially a mercenary who has not yet been paid before any of this could start. "If you two want to continue wondering what the hell is that thing anyways, be my guest, for really, I could care less," he said, his voice lowering slightly and sounding just a tad bit darker, there were times he would just absolutely lose it if he was forcibly delayed by some minor detail, and this was beginning to be such a thing, but started to recompose himself and rub his eyes slightly and shook his head. "Good day to you both," he simply said as he turned back around and started walking away from them at a normal pace, before turning into a different street.

[Cosmos]

The wolf was, in fact, quite mad. The occasional shockwave of sound that came along with the bellowing of the abyssal beast on the rooftop, though he deemed justified, was beginning to weigh on him. After another strained cringe, he decided not to bother with putting his ears back up all the way, since he had good odds of having to pin them back down again lest their conical shape funnel those horrid sounds straight into his ear canal.

He lightly shook his head with a snort, and brought his eyes on Kolkfjaer as he straightened his head. The answer he got wasn't exactly what he was looking for, which, of course, raised his grumpiness level a small bit, as did the brilliant flash that signified the departure of the ritualists. The lycanthrope's vampiric undertones did not like bright flashes one bit, and he was typically quite agitated by them, but he took a second to be glad that was out of his hair. Though part of him worried for whatever place those bastards ended up in.

"I know why," he said, just the slightest bit indignant, "I want to know what. I asked you, both of you, what the hell is going on."

Burning eyes glanced over to Nevererandar just in time to hear the man speak, and above sharpened fangs appeared a malicious sneer. A snarl erupted from his throat as he charged ahead and slid straight into the man's path, bearing his teeth as he did so.

"That includes you too, or did you not hear me?" The tall lupine bent down to what on Nevereradnar was eye level. "And besides, you're not even going the right way."