Darkspell: Shattered Legacies page 68

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(yes, but that’s making barriers. Sene can only control things with your mind or affect people’s mind. You can’t make an illusion from a barrier.)

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[the barrier was an example showing that sene can affect things outside of the mind meaning someone could make a sene illusion outside the mind of others and so it is seen by all.]

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[Psychic magic can make constructs of psychic energy that are perceived as illusions by the human mind. That is one type of illusion it can make; the other one is entering someone’s mind directly and making him or her hallucinate. As for the barriers… Psychic has telekinesis, which exerts kinetic force on objects. Said force can be compressed to make force fields, like those made by the Invisible Woman from Marvel Comics.]

[You’ve got some explaining to do regarding Mr. Luck, Arken. Not accepted until you answer my questions.]

[I’m going to write a post soon.]

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(Right, but as you’ve said before, someone could detect you were using psychic. Like, if you made an illusion of a stone golem, the person might detect it was psychic magic and realize it was an illusion)
(an another note, an illusion is something that is fake. The illusion of immortality makes no sense. like most magical stuff

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[the illusion of immortality is an illusion that can be done in real life but is extremely hard to do, and as it can be done in real life it doesn’t need magic to do but the illusion is aided by magic in this game to be easier to do. i have sent a PM to B_S he can confirm that the main part of the illusion can be done in real life. but B_S if you do confirm it please don’t tell people how he does it i want to see if anyone can figure it out.]

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Originally posted by arkenarken:

[the illusion of immortality is an illusion that can be done in real life but is extremely hard to do, and as it can be done in real life it doesn’t need magic to do but the illusion is aided by magic in this game to be easier to do. i have sent a PM to B_S he can confirm that the main part of the illusion can be done in real life. but B_S if you do confirm it please don’t tell people how he does it i want to see if anyone can figure it out.]


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[B_S i have changed Mr.Luck’s sign-up sheet in the agreed ways.]

[Knoob i don’t know what exactly on that page is your guess but he isn’t immortal through the use of any items of magic, it is like a magic trick that magicians could do in real life. also their was a change as to how long mr.luck has been in this world for it has gone from 500 years to 150 years however the method that he uses for immortality could keep him alive for the original 500 years and even longer.]

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[Mr. Luck is accepted. His “illusion of immortality” makes perfect sense, I assure you.]

Christopher Thunderblade

Heh, Rosalyn really is something. That Light magic of hers, it’s filling me with so much power that I feel like I can blast through almost anything. But… that’s likely only a delusion, the same delusion as how one thinks he can beat someone twice his size in a fist fight when drunk. And I can’t afford to be deluded in a battle against the Numbers.

I launch a large volley of electrified force shards at the combined form of Numbers 12 and 13, each of them glowing golden white and soaring through the air with great speed. They begin to drill into Numbers 12+13’s armor, releasing golden white electricity and causing the diamond and ice lattice to crack. But they don’t seem to penetrate deep into Numbers 12+13’s combined body; they must’ve created a layer of insulating material just under their armor specifically to counter my Electric magic. Before I can attack again, they shoot a number of drills and saws at me, made of the same diamond and ice lattice threaded through with liquid metal, too fast for me to dodge all of them; they drill into my psionic armor but my armor regenerates and pushes them out.

Damn. If we just keep exchanging blows like this, it will only be a matter of who runs out of energy first. And they have the energy of two people while I only have one. Better finish this quickly then.

I focus a large amount of power into the Thunderblade, causing it to glow brilliantly golden and white. Pushing myself with telekinesis, I dash toward Numbers 12+13, white light trailing behind me. They quickly form a crystalline and metallic blade to counter my blow, the two swords clashing against each other. Even with increased power, my blade only barely cuts into theirs, its electricity barely taking any effect. They are about to create more blades to strike me, but Rose suddenly appears behind them in a white flash, swinging a huge blade of her own made of white energy at Numbers 12+13. The attack briefly stuns our enemies as they try to block, giving me the chance to unleash a shotgun volley of electrified force shards at point blank range, each shard digging into Numbers 12+13 and releasing large amounts of electricity. When they spasm, I do not give them time to recover, immediately following up with a sword slash that releases a powerful burst of Shockforce enhanced by Rose’s Light magic. Our enemies begin to plummet, large cracks visible in their armor. Rose follows up with a wide beam of bluish white light, slamming Numbers 12+13 to the ground.

Did… Did we win…? Rose asks, trembling. A part of me feels sorry for her, as she doesn’t look like she’s been to these kinds of fights before. But judging from how effectively she handled herself just now…

Yeah… I reply grimly. No human can survive electrocution from even one of my shards.

She flinches as if struck, and trembles harder, her face twisted in agony and… guilt?

Dammit… She’s a pacifist. Why did they have to put her through this? No, it’s my fault…

Hey, aren’t you going to check if he’s actually dead? Lynn’s voice, annoyed, cuts in. Good thing she isn’t as affected by violence as her other persona.

Silently, we begin to descend toward the ground, toward Numbers 12+13’s fallen corpse. It’s still twitching slightly, and residual magic is still gradually dissipating from the body, but it is dead for sure. All of its formerly glowing blue crystals have dulled and cracked. There is a large wound in its shoulder from where my sword struck, nastily burned by electricity; the scene is even more gruesome when one realizes that the body belongs to a 13-year-old boy. Rose holds a hand to her mouth, and looks away.

A thin metal blade suddenly rises from the corpse, and stabs Rose in the chest.

AAAAAH!” Rose screams out loud, and drops to her knees, clutching the wound in agony. Blood is oozing, but not gushing, implying that the blade at least missed her heart and any main arteries. Instead of following up with more attacks, Number 12 instead disengages herself from Number 13’s body, and slithers away as quickly as possible like some sort of weird metallic snake.

“Rose!” I cry out in panic, and hurry to her. A part of me realizes that Number 12 has to be extremely weakened right now. If I try, I can catch her for sure, and prevent her from reporting back to the Order of Resurgence. But all I can think of right now is Rosalyn. “Hang in there!” I say desperately, cursing myself for possessing no healing magic.

[No, this is not over yet. Don’t interfere until I say otherwise.]

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Rosalyn Grayson



It hurts…

I clutch the wound on my chest, and fall face down to the ground. Blood… I saw it, before I fell, my own blood… I try to breathe, to move, but everything hurts so much, so much that I can’t even think… Am I… Am I going to…

No! You can heal yourself, dammit! Lynn hisses fervently, sounding as though she’s clenching her teeth to stop herself from crying out in pain; I’m glad that she’s shielded from much of the agony I’m feeling… Don’t fucking give up on me right now!

“Rose!” I hear Christopher cry out with panic in his voice as he rushes to me. “Hang in there!” That gives me a brief surge of hope, but it’s quickly drowned out by all the pain. Agh, it hurts…

I can feel Christopher trying to flip me so that I’m lying on my back, touching me as gently as he possibly can; even that feels like it’s ripping me in half. “I… I can’t…” I try to say, but only manage a wheeze. Then I cough violently, spitting out a mouthful of blood, the vivid redness and metallic taste making me sick… The cough makes me feel as though another blade is stabbed into my chest, and it’s getting hard to breathe, and my chest feels tight and crushed, and…

Don’t try to talk, Christopher says, sounding grave but trying his best to be comforting and reassuring. Amid the intense agony, I vaguely feel him sweeping a telepathic scan through my innards. You’ve got a broken rib and a ruptured lung, he says. If I dull the pain for you, can you heal yourself? He sounds desperate, afraid.

I-I’ll try… I reply weakly. I feel the touch of his mind, and do my best to let him in.

The pain instantly drops, to little more than a dull background throbbing. I can at least think somewhat clearly now… I call up all the magic I still have in me, and focus them to where my wound is, suffusing it with bluish white light and trying to restore the flesh and bone and blood to their natural states… Christopher’s presence feels very comforting, and I desperately cling onto his consciousness for support; I don’t think I could’ve continued without him… All the while I can feel him gently pouring a stream of magical energy into me, making sure I don’t run out…

It feels like an eternity. But the pain gradually disappears, little by little, until finally it disappears. I tentatively take a small breath. When it doesn’t hurt, I take another, deeper one. I try to stretch, and touch my wound to only feel smooth skin. “I… I think I’m all right now…” I whisper out loud, half expecting it to hurt, but it doesn’t.

“R-Really?” Christopher lets out a huge breath of relief. “That’s good…”

I suddenly realize that I’m very tired. Lynn… Take over from here…?

’Kay, she says, and I let myself sink deep into our subconsciousness…


I blink a couple of times, bracing myself for the pain or at least some soreness. But none comes. Holy shit, Rose did one hell of a job. I stretch a bit. Then I remember the praises from people in the infirmary Rose worked at, and grins smugly to myself.

I look at Chris. “You’ve got a hell lot of stuff to explain,” I say with a glare.

[It’s done now. You guys can come in if you want. And yes, Rosalyn is wearing a fluffy and slightly skimpy pink nightgown with a hole in its chest area.]

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[Hey B_S can i begin posting as Mr.Luck before wolf-kin gets to his tribe? i am working on getting wolf-kins and drakes fight over so i can get him to his tribe but i am waiting on blend to post as the hunters.]

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(Arken, I have the sense of direction going for me but I don’t know exactly what attack Drake is trying to pull. I could have Selwyn die, causing Dalet to die in turn.)


Dalet’s maintaining his ground, waiting for what the attack on him will do. After a few seconds of being on guard, he falls limp as a white wisp comes out of his mouth, rising to the sky. It turns out that during his conflict with Drake, he hadn’t noticed that Selwyn had been mauled by one out of three wolf golems. Two of them were eliminated but the third he did not see coming. He fell limp, looking at his brother as he died. Skywatcher Farrely flies to them with a wolf following for translation. The wolf will speak after Farrely speaks.

Farrely: That was impressive. Those two were brothers of the same blood. That spell required eight corpse sacrifices, two of which the man with the knives acquired himself. Wolf-Kin, you got him the other six by making a wolf out of their men. That spell kills them both at first and then brings them back to life on a condition…Their vitality was shared but the damage you inflicted upon them was redirected in a way where if the one with the axes took a hit, the one with the knives paid for it in blood instead. If the one with the knives took a hit, you get the idea. Killing the one with the knives kills the one with the axes as well and vice-versa. That spell is basically a lifelink spell. What will you do now? Lucius plans on going to town for a bit for some new clothes until we have his camouflage fixed. He got into a struggle with Kriegmare and managed to win with two bullet wounds in him. Alden dug them out while Rose healed Lucius.

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I notice a white wisp leaving Dalet it looks so familiar. “is… is that a…”. Drake continues to stare at the wisp and while he stares his eyes begin to turn black, his heart begins to race and he begins to move slowly towards it. however the wisp disappears before he can get near it. his eyes then returns to normal, he stops walking and his heart beat returns to normal aswell.

I tell the wolf: “I plan to meet up with my tribe to let them know that it is safe to stay here for awhile”

[now that the fight is over i will make wolf-kin an NPC now instead of when he gets to his tribe so that i can start posting as Mr.Luck.]

[also with the move that drake was trying to do i wasn’t entirely sure how it would have effected dalet because he was linked to his brother. and the reason i put in a direction thing was because i needed it for the move drake was trying to do.]

After this battle that i have been watching seems to have finished i decide to deactivate the illusion i put over myself to help to keep myself hidden and go and talk to the man and woman who seem to have won. I walk up to them and say: “Bravo bravo, what a wonderful show. you both must be quite skilled in magic.”

[B_S i am assuming that having my character secretly observe what happened in the fight is ok? after all i didn’t interfere with it which you told people not to interfere.]

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Farrely nods at Wolf-Kin and speaks again.

Farrely: If you are to be moving your tribe in, you will also be taking up the sworn duty of defending this forest. This forest houses many spirits like myself and many animals for food and protection. Lucius knows that too well as these animals defend him. Since his camouflage is being repaired, he will be looking his normal age instead of double it.

Over where Lucius is

I am without camouflage and am looking my own age. I turn to Fey and smile.

…Thank you for aiding me, Fey. I will need clothes though…

Fey: Clothes? Okay then…let’s find a hunter with clothes somewhat intact and wash them.

…What am I a vulture, plucking from the dead?…

Fey: You got any better ideas?

…Fine…to the victor goes the spoils, I guess…

I search for about ten minutes, finding bodies that were torn apart, clothes that were entirely ruined but would still make some dirty vagrant look classy until I stumble upon a white cloth tunic, brown cloth pants and some black boots, covered in mud. I strip them from their former owner and bring them to the lake to get the blood and dirt out. After drying for about five minutes with the help of two treants flapping their arms to generate wind with the leaves, I put the tunic and pants on and then lace the boots when they are on.

…How do I look, Fey?…

Fey inspects me up and down but naturally, I do not know what she’s thinking.

Fey: He’s a handsome gentleman now. Amazing…!!! Shit, he’s talking to me. Uh, you look great, Lucius. How do they feel?

…They’re soft and comfortable. I like them. I’m going to head to Imperis now. Keep an eye on the forest and get that gift ready for Rose, Lynn, Drake, Alden…you know…the whole group…

Fey: You got it, Lucius. Thank you for saving this forest again.

I walk out of the forest and make my way for Imperis.

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“you do not need to worry my tribe would sacrifice there lives to defend any gift that the great one gave this world.”

i turn and walk back towards farrely and wolf-kin. “hi farrely. i am getting tired do you know if there is a cave nearby that i could sleep in?”

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Farrely nods and looks at both Wolf-Kin and Drake.

Farrely: Then get your tribe. Set up wherever you like. Drake, there is a cave behind the waterfall near the only entrance to this forest. There is also another waterfall cave further back if you want more solitude.

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“Thank you, but before we leave this area i want to do something here.” Wolf-Kin takes a few steps away from drake and farrely. he then builds up a combination of earth, plant and air magic having what looks like a small vortex of light green energy surrounding him. once he has built up enough magical energy he releases it sending the light green energy all over the battlefield. the battlefield then begins to reform, repairing any and all damage that the forest took during the battle, it now looks how it did before the fight. i then walk back to drake and farrely and say: “I am done.”

“Wow. so everyones ready now? then did you want to show us the way farrely? also are the others at that cave or are they elsewhere?”

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Christopher Thunderblade

I flinch when the masked, jester-like man appears out of nowhere, and nearly blast him with a volley of electrified force shards. How… Fucking shit, I can’t believe this. I was so preoccupied with fighting Numbers 12 and 13 that I didn’t even feel this guy watching us at all. I stab out forcefully with telepathy to try to see who he is under the mask, only for the mental probe to bounce off against some sort of enchantment. Dammit, I can’t break those defenses without making it look like I’m attacking him, and I really don’t want another fight right now… Okay, let’s think about this calmly and-

“Who the hell are you?!” Lynn yells, a large number of tendrils of ominous black and red energy suddenly extending toward him. Oh well, so much for that. “You watch those two psychos trying to kill us like it’s some kind of fucking TV show, then come praising us when it’s over?! I’ll show you how skilled-”

Be quiet! I snap at Lynn in her mind. We don’t have to involve this guy if you shut up!

What?! She snaps back hotly, anger making her magic turn red like blood. That f-

Think about it! I say, mind racing, images of our encounter with Numbers 12 and 13 rapidly playing back in my mind. We talked mostly in telepathy, and our enemies didn’t say much either, so this guy couldn’t have overheard anything! And they probably didn’t notice him either, if we didn’t! I’d rather involve as few people in this as possible, if you don’t mind!

Fine! She huffs. What do you wanna do then, genius?! Her tendrils of dark energy begin to retract.

“Yes, yes, we’re quite skilled with magic,” I say in a neutral, detached tone. “Thank you for the compliment. Now if you’ll excuse us, I must take my Lady home now; it’s rather late. Please do not follow us.” I assume you got a place to stay? I ask Lynn.

Duh, she rolls her eyes. She manifests her wings and begins to rise.

Wait, I say. Can you destroy the body? I look at Number 13’s corpse on the ground. This jester person is a psychic; I can feel it. We don’t want him scanning the dead brain for information.

Wait, you can do that? She raises an eyebrow. But she complies, extending her tendrils to completely cover the body in a thick coating of dark energy. Streaks and veins of blood red pulse inside the black mass. When it dissipates, the body inside has been reduced completely to ashes; impressive and a little scary.

It only mostly works with freshly dead corpses, I say, but I know many people who can do it. That being practically every single agent of the Order of Resurgence that has anything beyond rudimentary Psychic magic. Come on, let’s go now.

Hmph, she says, and begins to fly off without looking back at me. I levitate to follow her.

[No, a psychic could not have spied on Christopher and Rosalyn’s telepathic conversations without them noticing. Not unless the psychic is especially good at stealth. Which I’d rather that Mr. Luck isn’t, as his speciality is illusions; and I’d rather not have any of the conversation overheard at all.]

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[don’t worry i wasn’t planning on him overhearing the psychic communication as that might have revealed his location. also sorry for taking so long to respond i had some trouble with my internet.]

[also just a question that i just thought of now doesn’t Rosalyn live at the paladin’s HQ like the other paladins? so why was she sleeping in the inn when she was attacked?]

“yes it is late isn’t it, i should be getting back to the inn now, goodbye.” i begin to head back to the inn while the girl does something to the body but i don’t stay long enough to find out what.

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also just a question that i just thought of now doesn’t Rosalyn live at the paladin’s HQ like the other paladins? so why was she sleeping in the inn when she was attacked?

[No time to post today, so I’ll just answer this question instead. After she left the Paladin HQ, she was going to check out of her inn room, and quit her job at the clinic, but then she got dragged into the whole business with Lucius and the forest. After it’s done with, she’s too tired, so she decided to sleep in the inn room for one more night. Evidently that didn’t go too well either.]

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Rosalyn Grayson


We fly back to my room at the inn… to see this huge fucking hole in the wall. Made by the little girl with hair blades, I think. “I ain’t paying for this,” I give Chris a glare.

He raises an eyebrow. “Then you may not be welcome here again,” he says drily. “It’ll go on your record and such.”

“Argh!” I groan. “Why the hell am I supposed to pay for property damage caused by two psycho kids who wanted to kill me for no good reason?!” As I re-enter the room through the human-sized hole, I go to my magical bag of holding. Good, everything is still there. “I don’t have the money for this!”

Chris gives me a look, like he’s about to ask something, but then just shakes his head a little and sighs. “I’ll pay for it,” he says.

My eyes widen. “Really?”

“Eh…” He shrugs. “Let me do the talking, okay? We don’t want you to get angry and end up attacking the innkeeper.”

“Hey!” I give him another glare. “I- Ugh, whatever. I’m tired. Go outside for a bit, will ya? I gotta change.”

“Aren’t you already in your pyjamas?” He looks at me, then quickly looks away and clears his throat.

“You think I’m gonna sleep here?” I look at the hole in the wall, from which the cold night wind is blowing into the room. “I’ve got another room in the Paladin HQ. Just joined ‘em earlier today, so now I guess I’ll be moving.”

“Paladins?” His eyes widen slightly. He then turns away, as though in deep thought. “Hmm…” He begins to head outside.

“Hey! Peek as much as you want,” I say to him with a smirk, then narrow my eyes menacingly, “but try anything funny and I turn your balls into mush! Got it?” It seems to startle him; he coughs a bit and turns away. Smirking, I begin to take off my nightgown and put on my modified Paladin uniform. “Actually…” I frown. “I don’t wanna wait anymore. Tell me who the hell those assassins are, and what the fuck they want with me.”

His face instantly darkens. “Okay…” He murmurs.

Then he sends me a packet of psychic energy, causing a flood of information to flash before me.

I blink a few times. “Oh. Uh.”

[Was going to write more, but too sleepy right now… Been busy and lacking sleep these days. Only me and my procrastination to blame.]

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Mr. Luck
I turn the corner and see the inn, i notice the two people from before but i just keep walking towards the inn.

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[I have a strangely difficult time typing in present third person.]

Alden Zephyrim

A gift of thanks huh? This is just my duty, my penance. Do I deserve such a thing? I space out, thinking purely of the direction of my life and what awaits me in the city of Imperis. Before I can snap out of my state and thank Lucius for the thought, he has already left, walking past the position of my stationary fate.

Fey, I should find her and finish things up here. It would obviously be rude to just step up and leave.

Richard Adders

A drink, a shot, and a morph. A drink, a shot, and a morph. The agony has been continuing throughout the night, and only my drifting phases of depressive drugs can ease the torment. Still, I know that wasting my time would prove to be my undoing, and I exercise my powers, despite the illogical tone in what can be summed up as the repeated stabbing of a wound.

Leaning against a wall, a pillow serves as an imitation of a human chest, and I aim quickly for what would be vital points with sharp and narrow icicles. In order to make my training routine silent, I halt the needles before they can slam into the wall with every strike. The slicing of the pillow makes a negligible noise, and by now, the icicles only slash through holes of air anyways.

After shooting all the vital points simultaneously, I convert my limbs into water, never specifying which ones I choose. It’s a technique that I’ve been training for quite a while now, but one that I’ve never used in combat. An technique amateurishly executed would only serve as an unnecessary risk, with better options always presented. However, I’ve been improving rapidly and the time when water morphing becomes a viable option is very near.

And thus I continue my uniform night, waiting for the sun to rise and perhaps for the opportunity to seek an underground healer.

NPC: Runa

Runa sits patiently and silently on her seat at the front in a round table that allows for the seating of twelve. At the opposite side of the table, directly in front of her, sits Raven, the closest to what she can consider a friend; similarly, and even with his objective personality, Raven considered her the only person he could trust. The two of them have been managing the organization since its collapse nine years ago. It isn’t an easy job, that’s for sure, but it’s certainly a rewarding one.

Once again, the time had arrived for a weekly meeting, serving the purpose of keeping Raven up to date with accurate news. So far, only Marinella, Ophir, and Gilda have arrived, but the rest are sure to follow soon if they don’t want to face a terrible punishment. And it would be weird if they don’t; the ability of trained assassins and killers to move rapidly to set locations, even with the limitation of being split around the world, is quite impressive.

Even congregating into the same room as a group and wearing the same dark clothing, the people were very different from each other. Raven, Runa, and Marinella were all absorbed into the organization as the offspring of orphan parents, the test of time integrating their family line. As such, they look nothing like the rest of the assassins, and because nobody cared to discover one, own no last name. However, they weren’t born to the same parents, and look just as different from each other.

Raven has long and flowing black hair, along with a beard that most people would consider long. He is too lazy to cater to his looks, and his lifestyle managing the insides of the organization doesn’t permit him time to wander out and show off his looks anyways. Instead, he took the shortcut of wearing a hood at all times, positively hiding his hideous appearance and negatively hiding his unaffected, dark brown eyes from others. Instead, he uses his tall presence to intimidate those who would, for some odd reason, request intimidation. Intelligent and unaffected by emotions, he is the ideal person to manage the back alleys of the organization, and thus does exactly that.

Runa, a medium-sized beauty, has scarlet hair, brown eyes, and smooth skin. Not the type to use makeup, she follows the philosophy that her natural looks would only be damaged by the use of non-magical change. As for magical change, it certainly isn’t something she needs. The leader of the group, her intelligence rivals that of Raven and she is able to shape a false personality based on her needs.

Marinella is a tall blonde and blue eyes with equally charming looks. Directly against the prevailing stereotypes, calling Marinella stupid would be a foolish, ignorant thing to do and one reserved to those with no knowledge of her.

Ophir Conpuvist and Gilda Toxlight, besides being members of the original family line, also follow a pattern of difference. Their looks are equal, both average in height with brown hair and gray eyes. Both of them had their looks magically enhanced, useful if any “coercion” was needed. However, their basic personalities arere drastically different. While Ophir is what the literate, schooled people of the world would call a jock, Gilda is the quite, manipulative type.

Contrary to the contrasting individuals in the room, the room is uniform in nature. The room is dimly lit, contributing to an uncomfortable atmosphere pushed onto them by the overall silence, a caution against the issues of reexplaining important details to newly arrived members. Compounded with that, it is also very plain, the only break from the enchanted wood walls and floor being the equally plain wood door.

The outside is less plain. An intricate underground cavern and a series of barriers and defense mechanisms prevents any intruders from even finding the location. The entrance is inside of a tree, one amongst many in a overflowing forest. Cloaked with illusions, it looks just like any other tree, and any person stepping into a magical hole by mere chance would find themselves incinerated instantly by Arturo’s flames.

The only way past any of these trials is to contact Raven, who, using psychic magic and a magical orb, would promptly deactivate everything for an instant. In that instant, the member would quickly enter with a variety of means, all with a single theme in common. All of these methods must propel the person into the chambers in that instant, before Raven reactivates all of the trials, just as quickly as they were deactivated. Anybody who fails is regarded as a failure and simply replaced, for only a failure would give another a chance of discovering one of their headquarters, the number of which had become vast after the past collapse.

So there they sit. Raven continues staring into his orb, eternally collecting data. Runa looks absently into the ceiling. Gilda pets the sprouts of her skin, an equally blank look on her face. Marinella also stares into the ceiling, but with a false smile on her face. Ophir frowns, probably the only one truly affected by the dreadful atmosphere. The process continues, until the members become just as uniform as the room itself, merely details to remember and not moving individuals. Even when the eccentric and somewhat insane Mary Majnun contacts Raven and literally seeps into the room from the ceiling, not a single word is sputtered and not a single expression is changed. The tall, black haired, and brown eyed Mary skips to her seat and thumps down loudly onto the wooden chair, contributing the humming of an eerie song to the uniform room. Only six more people are to arrive before the meeting begins.

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The Order of Resurgence

…so your target is much stronger than you expected, an astral projection of Number 1 murmurs as she sifts through Number 12’s memories. There is no anger in her eerie, ethereal eyes, only disappointment. And of all possible affiliations, she is coincidentally acquainted with Number 15… She frowns. He is gaining allies. Nothing that our full might cannot take care of, and yet…

“Wouldn’t he have spoken to some reputable, reliable organization, such as the Order of Paladins, about our existence?” Number 11 inquires, as his mist of glowing Holywater surrounds and heals Number 12. His appearance, however, contrasts drastically with the holiness of his magic, a figure of medium height shrouded in a black hooded cloak, showing only a pale-skinned teenage face with short, messy black hair and brown eyes. “Why are we not dedicating every effort to eliminate him before we are known to such an organization?” Droplets of his bluish white Holywater suddenly invert colors, becoming reddish black for an instant before reverting back, but none of it touches the still-recovering Number 12.

[Since Rosalyn just joined the Paladins, Lucien Eccleston thought he didn’t need to tell the assassins he hired about that fact, as doing so might cause the assassins to raise their price.]

Will the Paladins trust the words of a murderer of hundreds, without first scouring his mind inside out? Number 1 replies after a moment of consideration. I am sure that Number 15 will not trust them, Paladins or no, to probe his damaged psyche. This mutual absence of trust will ensure that Number 15 will not be able to cooperate with whatever allies he manages to gather with the same degree of efficiency as we. Besides, we have eluded the Paladins many times before, and we can do so again.

“Are we really willing to take the chance, now that our influence is expanding into the same city that the Paladins’ headquarters is located in?” Number 11 says gravely. “We have already lost two Numbers. No more chances should be taken; I suggest we dispatch every single one of us to ensure his demise.”

…perhaps one more chance, Number 1 murmurs. We do happen to be rather busy at the moment, aren’t we? She looks around, bringing attention to the fact that the fragment of herself not included, only three Numbers are present at this temporary meeting place; all other Numbers are occupied by either missions, or the process of setting up as an infallible base in Imperis as possible. I believe your contacts will do the job for us so long as they obtain their share of the pay, Number 9? We are not in very desperate need of funds at the moment.

“Understood,” Number 9 says, and gazes at the orb in his hand that is completely coated in a thick layer of what appears to be rust. He resembles any pubescent boy in ordinary civilian clothing, with fair skin and rust-colored hair, but his cold, venomous dark green eyes betray his true nature as a ruthless killing machine. “Though outsiders should not be truly trusted, I know the capabilities of my fellow assassins. I will see to it that they eliminate Rosalyn Grayson, as well as Number 15, without learning of his significance.”

Good, Number 1 nods, before blinking out of existence; the powerful illusion that conceals this place fades along with her. As the meeting ends, and the other Numbers leave, a wave of reddish black fluid floods forth from Number 11 like a gushing fountain of blood, destroying the location and all of their evidence here…

Number 9

Streams of what appears to be rusty metal slither into the dimly lit room, before coalescing into the young teenage form of Adrien de Broglie. The boy surveys the room for an instant with his venomous green eyes, looking at the people wearing the same dark clothing as himself, before sitting down in his seat just to the left of Raven, whose orb he is holding. The rust coating the magical sphere finally flakes away, no longer blocking its observational powers. Silently, he waits for the remaining assassins to arrive, his inhumanly dispassionate eyes betraying nothing whatsoever.

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NPC: Runa

Adrien’s entrance creates no disturbance to the room, other than the occasional hidden emotions and doubts, but being hidden, none of them show up in a visual or psychic scan. Time continues to stream by, and soon, all the remaining assassins have arrived.

Orian Adders smashes into the building ungracefully, much to the chagrin of Gilda, who quickly reforms the wooden ceiling. Just as quickly as his needlessly loud descent, the tall middle-aged man strolls casually to his seat. His eyes are brown and his hair straight and dark black.

In a manner completely unlike Orian’s, Pippin Adders rises out of the ground in a mist of poison, which combines into the same type of build: black hair, brown eyes, somewhat tall, and a body with aptitude for agility.

Ebony Than and Arturo Toxlight are quick to follow, simply entering through the doorway, in contrast to their regular personalities and whims. Arturo shares the same characteristics as his sister, Gilda, excluding his slightly shorter height and numerous face burns, which were left as he deemed magical enhancement unnecessary. Ebony is old, and probably would have died ages ago, if not for the spells and enchantments that keep her alive. Her albino hair had since become ordinary, the color similar to the greying hair of other old ladies. She walks with a slight slouch in her back, only making her short height appear shorter and obscuring her strangely young face and emerald eyes.

The last to come in is Bianca Wraithe, who appears randomly in a blink of an eye, in what would seem like teleportation to an untrained observer. Her presence secretly surprises those who are expecting another, instead seeing what appears to be a little girl. Even stranger is her face, a cute and innocent one, but distorted in an unexplainable way that manages to get a raise of an eyebrow from Pippin. Quickly, she appears above her seat next to Marinella, and landed with a soft thud. Marinella sneaks a glance at her, smiling in satisfaction at the results, her skills, and more personally, the resemblance between her. Despite having no family relation, Bianca could be easily mistaken for Marinella’s daughter, had they been wandering through some village market and not planning a secret kill in an enclosed room. She shared the same blonde hair, blue eyes, and slender skin. Even their faces were somewhat similar, and their only difference was her childlike demeanor.

And so, with all the members gathered, the meeting truly begins.

Runa sets her hands on the table, and speaks authoritatively, “Now then. Usually, I wouldn’t bother to explain what we do here, but as you can all probably see, we have a new member. Heath is dead, a useless piece of garbage anyways, and now we have Bianca, an outsider, to replace him. She’s more than powerful enough, but Marinella has been assigned to train her, as their abilities don’t differ much. On the topic of Heath, according to our intel, he died fighting a certain Richard Adders, a Rosalyn Grayson, and a Rae Grimfeld. The latter two are of negligible importance and have no dangerous knowledge about Heath. As for the former, I already have a plan of action for him that would benefit all of us and our cursing plan will deactivate in a short period of time. Until then, expect frequent inquiries from Raven. Now that the more general topics are out, I would like to hear some information or comments from the rest of you. Except for Ophir, of course, who didn’t have anything to do last week.”

“The boy,” mutters Gilda, “What do you plan to do with him?”

Runa smirks at this question, “That’s none of your business, hmm? Just know that soon, he’ll be dead if events go as planned. Since you’re so ready to interrogate about a beaten topic, why don’t you tell me how the assassination of that bandit gang went?”

Gilda frowns, the question turned against her. The bastard already knows what happened. She and her monopoly over orb information. Hmph, at least I spread some doubt. “I let one get away. Somehow, he managed to cloak himself past the detection abilities of my plants.”

“And?” asks Runa playfully.

“We won’t be getting any pay. The escapee delivered a message, one that caused our clients to fail.”

As Gilda says this, several members eye her, perhaps looking for a chance to get rid of her. “I think you know what to do,” responds Runa, “Kill off the clients and take their money as well. They were foolish to not deliver some compensation, at least, right?”

With a clearing of her throat, Ebony states plainly, "Arturo and I killed off Mr. Holland. No suspicion was cast. Our pay should arrive with one of our lower members in a few days. I hope you know that I don’t “enjoy” these type of jobs."

Mary Majnun merely displays a thumbs up, showing that her job has been completed and that she has nothing extra to report.