Destiny Orb (RP) ^_^

Chair shook his head with a sigh, gently closing Lucy and pushing himself to his feet. Spots danced in front of his eyes as he did so, and for a moment he seemed sure to collapse, but he pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled sharply, forcing his body to cease its staggering. He turned and walked over to the red tome, placing his hand on its cover and murmuring with a smile, "Sorry Jim, I didn't mean to yell. I think it's time I go and get some supplies." The statement could be considered grievously undermined, one might think. The boy had not left the tower in all the time since he'd arrived, maintaining his health through judicious use of spells and his own water orb to keep his body hydrated.

Magic, however, is not a substitute for true sustenance, and with each passing day, Chair's mental acuity led to the weakening of his spells. He knew he could no longer afford to ignore his growling stomach, even as his mind's hunger remained unsatisfied. With one last muttered incantation, the Book Mage donned his cloak, ensuring that the pockets held their proper cargo. He hefted the haversack over his left shoulder, grabbed his walking stick, and walked down to the first floor of the tower. The orbs reacted, fire blazing, water splashing, and earth rumbling, slipping out of their grooves and floating over to the stairwell and down it. As Chair pushed open the door of the tower and stepped into the outside world once again, the orbs were once again in place, orbiting his body at his head, torso, and feet respectively.

"Halt!"

Chair did as he was commanded, stopping before entering the village proper, the guard holding up a massive paw as he stepped cautiously forward. The guard, a wolf hybrid, was certainly imposing. Standing about two feet higher than the boy, his gray fur bristled, a line of bare skin across his snout where a scar had formed, his paws were covered in thick padding from which jutted out a number of spikes. The wolf growled as it looked over the Book Mage, nose dilating as he sniffed loudly. After a moment, the wolf jerked his head back, indicating the boy could enter. Chair walked quietly into the village, letting loos a sigh of relief once out of earshot of the wolf. It didn't seem as though Von Karma's forces had reached this place yet, though he'd hidden his orbs all the same, deciding it would be better not to advertise their existence. The sooner he was back in his tower, the better.

"Sir."

Victor stirred slightly, grimacing as if having a nightmare.

"Maxim, sir, are you alright?"

A floating black sphere popped into existence. Victor figured it was the equivalent of opening his eyes. Instantly, the world came into focus and Victor could see where he was. Sol'nube's throne room was a ruin, the only thing that could be left after two Orb Users fought right in the middle. A rebel soldier stood over Victor, apparently shaking him awake. Victor sat up, eliciting a surprised cry.

"Commander Maxim!" the soldier nearly screamed. "You did it, sir, Sol'nube is ours again!"

Victor struggled to recall what had happened, but he knew it wasn't he that saved Sol'nube. He remembered Xepher's betrayal, right before all of his orbs were destroyed. Xepher and Davis fought, Naiyao disappeared, and then what? Only darkness, and a familiar voice. All Victor knew was that someone had wanted him alive.

"It wasn't me," was all Victor could manage, rising to his feet. The rebel soldier saluted, but looked confused.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"I mean whatever happened here, I wasn't a part of it. Somebody won here, but it wasn't us." Victor could see the soldier's expression begin to falter, and added, "Either way, Sol'nube is ours again. Get the message out. We still have work to do."

He could hear the whispers, the mutters about the odd little boy with all the books. He always could, and he often wondered why people bothered to speak in low voices around him. If they were so interested in his books, he would be happy to introduce them all, but they never raised their voices unless it was to yell at him and call him something other than his name. He never understood that. Not Chair. So he instead did as he always does; he kept to himself, sighing contentedly after his first meal in almost a month, his sack full almost to bursting with fresh food for home.

He could stay home his entire life, he could, but sometimes he liked being out. It gave him a chance to think about what he'd read without the words being right in front of him. Plus, he did enjoy meeting new people. Oh yes, especially people who like books, and magic, and books, and sometimes orbs, and definitely books...

"Hmm, I wonder" Chair murmured, looking down at the tome that was propped up on the table before him to speak his mind, "if Victor still remembers that exchange he promised me. What do you think, Isolde?" The boy stared at the book, nodding as if it were responding, and a few of the people sitting outside in front of the serving area stood up quickly, moving a bit further away from the strange child.

Of course, the village of Loran wasn't very large, and by the time Chair had stopped to eat, everyone knew he was around. A number of people had heard of the strange little boy who lived all around in the tower outside of town, but like all rumors, they had never put any stock in it until he'd actually appeared to them. Like the butcher. He was still scratching his head in surprise and confusion as the boy had ordered large slabs of meat and stuffed them into the sack, which he then hefted over his shoulder and walked off as if it were any other day.

The town guard was on edge already, hearing of the upheaval and conflict around the land, and having the boy's presence around only worsened their demeanor. About the only place that seemed to welcome Chair at all was the Loran's magic guild, or what they called a guild. In reality, it was the town's sole library, and many of its shelves were empty. The owner had little luck in finding anyone interested in his wares, so focused were they in everyday life, but Chair always came by to peruse a new book, spell or not. He was the only reason he could claim he had a proper trade.

That said, it wasn't often the boy came around, so the owner took his time bringing new material in. This time, however, he'd found something he thought the boy would be really interested in. It was biography of one of the greatest prodigies of the magical world, the former Magister Lord who had mysteriously vanished. The man was certain the boy would be able to enjoy this book, not just because it housed some of the unique spells the Magister Lord had personally developed, but maybe, just maybe, it might help the kid realize he wasn't so alone in the world.

Chair, of course, was oblivious to any of these endeavors, only just rising from the table and stepping out into the thoroughfare. "Hmm, where to next?" he asked himself, "I got some food...I suppose I could always stop by the guild before I leave." The boy's eyes lit up at the prospect, but then he shook his head vigorously, scolding himself. "No, Chair, now's not the time to find a new friend. You still need to go home and see Lucy." With a firm nod, the boy turned towards the direction of home, walking with conviction...which slowly waned as he turned around and began walking back to the store. "Still," he muttered to himself, eyes glinting with excitement, "just a quick peek couldn't hurt."

Far away from the Orb Users, Raggo stands atop a cliff alone; overlooking a large city. He extends his arms in both directions. *CRACK* He stretches to cure his stiffened joints. He stares down at the city with a smile before he brings his right hand downward with staff in hand. The wooden staff strikes the ground with a light tap and upward rains a torrent of magical particles. Around him, the magic in the air awakens and seems to dance about his body. Raggo brings his arms back in a swishing motion, the air flows past him. He strokes his arms to the right-- more air flows. He holds his left hand into the sky while his right hand rests on his staff. His left hand seems to call to something... high above the city. A flicker of light. Red light shines with such a brightness that even from such a great distance all within view can behold it.

"Von Karma wishes an example of me" Raggo snickers as his hand calls down. "I will give a display so benevolent... that the fool will never question me again."

Raggo pulls down with his hand as if pulling the rope on a guillotine. To the same effect, something falls from the sky. A fireball of epic proportions is launched and burns with such radiance and beauty that even those in fear of it would stop to stare at it for a few seconds. A move they would come to regret.

"Run!" Shouts citizens of the city, running for their lives.

"Out of my way!" Violence begins into the city, people pushing others aside. The majority of the city attempts a rush for the gates. Others have realized there is no hope and fall to their knees, praying for their Goddess Makku to protect them-- but it is too late for that.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The city itself lets out a painful scream of terror and suffering. The fireball collapses upon the city and an explosion on a tremendous scale ignites through it. Raggo watches from a safe distance as the fireball he called down upon them burns the city away along with all those inside. Those who didn't die from the immediate crushing power of the fireball or from its explosive force, die quickly after from the severe burns that follow. Raggo watches as the thousands inside of the city fall to him. Men, Women, Children, Pets; all are the same. He cannot make them out, but he can see small dots rushing from the gates with fire igniting them... none of them make it more then a few feet. At the sight of this... Raggo closes his eyes.

... It was so long ago...

"What are you doing, my friend?" The room is full of books. Shelves containing magics greatest achievements. There are tables, stands, stones, platforms, a garden, such many things and all tingle with the presence of magic. At a table between it all near the center of the room, a male sits at the table. He has black hair and a look of studious curiosity about him. He wears a long black arcane jacket that is buttoned up to his collar. Before him upon the table exists a multitude of books and papers, as well as artifacts with a magical property to them. Behind him approaches a man in a similar jacket, but with different initials over his chest. This man has silver hair. The silver haired man had asked a question of the dark haired man, while waiting for an answer.. he picks up one of the books and glances at it.

"Ehehe, it's nothing." The dark haired man claims, while he turns the page. His eyes glance at the man while a half smile forms over his face.

"It's never nothing," the silver man quickly replies. "You know that I know that you never do just / nothing /. If you did, my job would be a lot easier." Both of the males begin to chuckle as if in a friendly way. After the chuckling stops, as if with concern the silver haired man touches the dark haired mans shoulder. "If you need to talk about it--"

"No" the dark haired man quickly cuts off the silver haired man. "I've come to terms with what happened in Maer. It wasn't my fault, it wasn't anyones fault. It was just... bad timing." He looks down at the book as if to hold back his painful memories. The silver haired man smiles.

"Come on" he says to the dark haired man.

"What?" The dark haired man questions the silver haired friend of his. An answer is not yet given, instead his arm is grabbed and he is pulled from his chair. They start to run toward the door, the silver haired friend of his pulling him.

"I have an awesome fire spell I've been working on!" He laughs while running toward the door. "You need to check it out! No more moping around in doors Future Archmage, Ka'bar!"

"I told you to stop calling me by my last name!" the dark haired male replies quickly. "Just call me Raggo!"

Raggo opens his eyes and looks down at the scorched city. It still burns, but he no longer hears screams. Everyone is sure to be dead. "I suppose I should investigate the next town over... What was it again. Loran?" Raggo slides his hands into his pockets and turns from the cliff edge as he begins to walk.

"That's right, Loran. Welcome, my young friend, welcome back to Loran!"

Chair craned his neck backwards, eyes wide and mouth grinning as it always did when he listened to the guild master. It wasn't often the older Mage had an opportunity to put his all into his presentations, but with Chair he always had a rapt audience, and so enjoyed giving the speeches and declarations as much as the boy enjoyed hearing them. He always started by presenting his map of the village of Loran, showcasing the perimeter of the village and noting areas of interesting, of which the guild was emblazoned with a large, shimmering sigil. The whole of Loran was rather small, only measuring a few miles across, but the guild master clearly took great pride in his home.

"Loran is home to sixty score and thirty-two persons. That includes guardsmen and, of course, you my boy," he finished with a hearty laugh, motioning Chair inside. It never occurred to the young Mage that the guild master's emphasis on mentioning him was an attempt to make him feel like part of the community. He just assumed it was part of his presentation. As he stepped inside, Chair took a moment to look around. The building was only one story, but it had been cleverly tiered to make it seem bigger than it actually was. Shelves covered most of the wall, many of them full, though a good number bereft of tomes.

"Say," Chair said with a frown, "isn't there anything new ya got?"

The guild master chuckled and mussed up the boy's hair as he walked by before replying, "Sorry my boy, but trading's been slow lately. Ain't you heard about that fella terrorizing everything? What's his name...can't remember just now, ah well, but I hear he did a number to the folks over in Tarenhold." Chair stiffened as he heard the name of the village he'd been attacked at. Casually, he turned around, looking at the shelves again while saying, "You don't say...has that been happening a lot lately?"

"Well yeah. Kadaver was recently liberated from one of his lackeys, so I hear," the guild master continued on as if it were casual banter. One pudgy hand stroked his mustache, however, as he watched Chair's reaction to th news. It was clear the boy didn't know how to hide his feelings properly, with the way his fists had clenched tight at mention of Tarenhold. It surprised him that Chair would have that sort of response. Was there even more to this child than he originally thought?

"...I do have something new in," the guild master said slowly, as if suddenly remembering, "I think you'll get a kick out of it." Chair turned around, curiosity in his eyes as he watched the old man reach under his desk and pull out a rather dated looking book, it's edges cracked and peeling. "Here," he called out as he tossed the book to the boy. Chair stumbled forward, but caught the book and read the cover aloud slowly, his eyes lighting up and his lips pulling back in to a gleeful smile, "Young Wisdom: A Biography of Raggonic Sein Ka'Bar"

Chair looked back up at the guild master and saw him beaming back at him. Clutching the book tightly to his chest, he said eagerly, "What will you take for it? I brought some of my friends who want to meet other people. I know they'd love being with you." The guild master tossed his head back and laughed heartily, which startled Chair a bit.

"No, my boy, no trades today. That one's for you. A gift for all the business you've given to the guild."

Chair's grin spread even wider at these words, and he rushed over to the old man, flinging his arms around him. The guild master's eyes opened with surprise, the he chuckled, placing his big arms around the boy for a moment before pulling away and clearing his throat.

"THANK YOU!" Chair shouted behind him as he rushed out the door, now doubly excited to return home. As he hustled down the thoroughfare, he looked down at the book in his hands, noting every curled end, every faded lettering, everything about the book. "I think I'll name you Raggo..." he said with a nod.

Victor grimaced as he surveyed the damage, a single Eye hovering over his shoulder. The rest were patrolling, though it was beginning to wear on him. He sat hunched over a barely intact desk in the Mage Quarter of the city, set up as a temporary base of operations for the rebellion. Despite being a smoking ruin, there was still at least some semblance of order returning to the city of Sol'nube, and reports were coming in from all over. Damage reports, mostly, listing casualties, both civilian and military, as well as cost estimates for the damage. The losses were tremendous, and Victor wasn't sure he could have managed had the city not been retaken. It seemed nearly all of the city's guard had been killed during the initial invasion, forcing a small militia to take up arms.

However most of the civilians had been rescued and evacuated before the rebellion began in earnest, so now was a simple matter of distributing food and simply surviving. The King of Sol'nube had been found in a dungeon beneath the castle, half-starved but alive. Victor had gone to offer what healing he could, but now all that was needed was some rest. Hopefully the man could handle what was left of the city, but that was a long term plan.

"Sir Maxim!" The crooked door swung open, nearly falling off its hinges. Simon, best described as Victor's second-in-command in the rebellion, strode through the door. He struck a quick salute.

"Go ahead," Victor said, turning around out of habit. The Eye that floated nearby continued reading the reports on the desk, but Victor retained his focus on Simon.

"Sir, our messengers have returned. Tarenhold is willing to house refugees, as well as provide a small food caravan, as have Merecrest, Kadavar, and Jakara. Most of them will allow the details of a deal to be worked out at a later time, sir."

Victor nodded. "What of Malvior?"

Simon's cleared his throat, attempting to hide his expression. "No news. Our messengers did not return."

Victor let out a grunt of frustration, slamming a hand into the desk. He took a deep breath, and then sighed. "I see. Last I heard of it was from Geol. It's likely still under Von Karma's rule." Victor pressed a hand to his, to control his budding headache. "I shouldn't have anyone there."

Victor stood up suddenly, causing the chair he'd been occupying to clatter loudly to the floor. Malvior was still in danger, and he'd promised to take care of it. Victor still saw it as his responsibility, especially since it was a goddess given task. Victor made his way to the door, but stopped once he reached it.

"I'm going to Malvior. I've prepared a set of instructions if you wish to follow them, and the King will be back on his feet soon. Good luck."

Madison had covered a great distant before she finally stopped, she knew that Reg could not keep up with her especially if she used the time orb to hasten her movements. The hybrid's head was pounding and her body began to go numb, Madison sunk to her knees and gasped her head. The call of the Desolation Orb was constant and usually she could ignore it but today was different, she felt weak and her spirit was at a low and Madison could feel herself losing control. The wolf hybrid let out a scream that turned into a howl as she slowly and painfully became more feral, her calm eyes would be black as a moonless sky and her nails and fangs grew more dangerous. Tears rolled down Madison's cheeks as she tried to fight for her humanity but it was in vain and slipped into insanity.

"This would be so much easier if I had not lost my map."
A young man grumbled to himself as he stood on what had once been a proud city wall, now reduced to rubble by some unknown calamity. Damon Val was a great warrior - A giant of a youth, who was never without his equally massive war hammer, Naaru. Balance, it seemed, was nice to Damon, for the only price for his immense size and strength was his sense of direction, which was by no means a detriment, if he carried a map with him at all times...
"At least the rumors of towns being destroyed appear to be true," Damon continued to himself. "But now I have no way to send a message home. I should have thought this through better." He leaped off the wall, using his hammer to balance him as he landed. The impact Naaru made on the stone floor was incredibly loud, making Damon wince, and look around frantically. His search was in vain. This place was as silent as a mausoleum. Somehow that analogy didn't help to lift Damon's mood. He hoisted his hammer and continued past the wall into the city's depths.
Everywhere he looked, there was nothing but destruction and death. Damon was no stranger to the uglier side of battle, but even he was disgusted by what he saw. 'This was no fight - it was a damned slaughter!' he thought, casting his gaze left and right, automatically scanning for potential hostiles. All of his senses were on alert. He had been trained well by his master, a woman of great expertise in all forms of combat. It would have been her in Damon's place right now, had she not been with child.
"You are my greatest student, Damon," she had said to him. "I will not have it any other way. You must do this for Hel'cata... For me." Those words had confirmed Damon's worst fears. He was leaving everything behind in service of the people. Alone. That's how he had felt throughout his whole journey. There was else that could have been done, Damon told himself over and over. Aside from his master, he was undeniably one of Hel'cata's best fighters, despite its heavy military regime. The master's request to the city council had settled the matter permanently. Damon Val had to go, and so he did.
'And now I'm lost,' Damon thought bitterly. 'Damned map. Next time I'll carve one into stone, so it wont fly away in the breeze.' his ears suddenly pricked, like a wild animal. He stopped moving. what he had heard, even he didn't know. It was such a distant sound that he felt he had sensed it rather than actually heard it. Nonetheless, he trusted his instincts. Something, somewhere, had made that noise. The young warrior proceeded, with much greater caution than before, his mind completely focused on his surroundings. With practiced ease, he slid his hammer in front of him, holding it with both hands, preparing to strike anything that appeared.

Chair resisted the urge to read on the way home with difficulty. His fingers curled around the edge of His new friend eagerly, but each time they started to spread back the cover, he shook his head vigorously. Instead, he examined and re-examined the front and back of the book. It was certainly an older edition, and whoever had owned it before it reached the guild master had not gone to great lengths to keep it preserved.

"Not very nice," Chair muttered to itself as his fingers smoothed out a wrinkle on the cover tenderly, practically cradling it in his arms.

"...Ohhh, darn it!"

Who could expect a boy to be so terribly patient? Certainly not this child, and so with a grin of excitement, Chair rushed over to a bench and flopped onto it, setting his bag down carefully before finally spreading the book open. He carefully turned the first pages, his hands shaking somewhat. They settle eventually, fingers curled around the open edges, and the boy disappears into the words, holding onto his grip of the outside world barely. His eyes scanned, his ears perked as the sound of his fingers dragging along the page, feeling the smooth and rough texture, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled it's scent. He was fully involved...

Tip, Top, Tippidy Tap The clicking of his tongue at the sound of his feet to the ground make a noise. The dark haired man smile as his eyes glance from one foot to the other, as if a game is being played with himself. The man holds a cane in one hand, as if to make himself seem more innocent... a childish attempt. He often thought of the men who wore such a means to have some sort of aged wisdom. A man with a staff was one with a lack of skill in walking but a man with a cane held the world at his fingers.

"Halt" The sound pierces his ears as if a painful dagger had just taken a stab at him. His eyes glance up quickly as he stops and his eyes pierce back at the sight-- directed at the one who gave him the command.

"Woof?" Raggo stares at the guard-dog, quite literally some sort of wolf hybrid which towers others. He speaks mockingly back toward the guard with a smile on his face before raising his left hand, while his right presses the cane to the ground. "No, no my friend--" Raggo speaks with a peeked means of ridicule as he stares at the hybrid. "Martin, John Varden kaal Near, authenticator of arms, legs, and all other sorts of body parts! May I compel you to part from my path so I may proceed forth into this village of er... stuff?" The teasing man smiles with lack of sincerity as he stares at the large figure.

Naiyao kicks off. She jumps the distance, skipping a hundred feet at a time. Behind her, she leaves Speculum. "I've no time for games. This country needs me."

Wrapped in her old cloak, Naiyao pulls her hand forth from beneath it. She clenches the lightning orb. As she tightens her fingers, the orb sparks. Her daggers are tucked behind her waist as well. Her sword on her hip. Two other orbs, positioned on her left most side, behind her sword, and before her daggers. Naiyao fixes her goggles atop her head. She safeties her orb behind her waist again. She sniffs the air... Backup, so close? How did they..... Ugh, it didn't matter.

Naiyao's feet spark with lightening. Each leap, carries her far. It leave a trail of lightening scent on the ground from where her feet touched. She hoped that her own reinforcements would soon be on the way. She is mere minutes now from Malvior. She left Speculum behind her. She knew that she was stronger then him. She knew-- because she did not need him. He needed her. He craved her. The feeling-- this was present with Naiyao. The mark he left. Her pride... He did mark her and yet despite this, she ignored it. Her resolve... She made it clear. I will protect, everyone! The city itself now comes into view. She feels as if she could touch it. She jumps high into the air and thrusts her hand to the sky--

"Wait for me! You're not alone in this!"

Originally posted by Phoenix3068
Tip, Top, Tippidy Tap The clicking of his tongue at the sound of his feet to the ground make a noise. The dark haired man smile as his eyes glance from one foot to the other, as if a game is being played with himself. The man holds a cane in one hand, as if to make himself seem more innocent... a childish attempt. He often thought of the men who wore such a means to have some sort of aged wisdom. A man with a staff was one with a lack of skill in walking but a man with a cane held the world at his fingers.

"Halt" The sound pierces his ears as if a painful dagger had just taken a stab at him. His eyes glance up quickly as he stops and his eyes pierce back at the sight-- directed at the one who gave him the command.

"Woof?" Raggo stares at the guard-dog, quite literally some sort of wolf hybrid which towers others. He speaks mockingly back toward the guard with a smile on his face before raising his left hand, while his right presses the cane to the ground. "No, no my friend--" Raggo speaks with a peeked means of ridicule as he stares at the hybrid. "Martin, John Varden kaal Near, authenticator of arms, legs, and all other sorts of body parts! May I compel you to part from my path so I may proceed forth into this village of er... stuff?" The teasing man smiles with lack of sincerity as he stares at the large figure.

The guard growls at this newcomer's audacity, his hackles raising as he could smell old smells on the man that warned of danger. Old blood, old magic...and something else. This Martin was something he shouldn't allow into the village, his every instinct told him so. He would sink his teeth into the man's neck and worry him until he was nothing but the parts he spoke of. It was his duty to protect Loran.

"Oy, oy!" came a voice from the guardhouse as a second sentry, this one human, came rushing out, "What d'you think you're doing? Acting a beast like that! Sod off!" The wolf glared at his fellow guardsman, who gulped at the imposing hybrid, but stepped back. It was his duty to protect Loran...but only if danger was obvious. His instinct meant little to the others.

"Damn mutt," the new sentry muttered under his breath before looking back at Martin, "sorry about that. Can't be too careful these days, and one look of that fellow usually sends ne'er-do-wells a running. Welcome to Loran, sir! Hope your stay is a pleasant one."

(What is this I don't even)

Raggo entered the city without another word with a cane spun in his hand. He makes for an egotistical appearance. Raggo's cane tapped the ground at the guard-dogs feet. He then, contradictory to his original act of saying nothing, spoke bluntly "Good boy" before pursuing his leisurely walk into the city.

Tip Top Tippidy Tap Raggo's cane abuses the ground with light taps. He walked the grounds of Loran with curious eyes following the residents. He glance right ways and left ways and upways and downways; he hoped to see a sight that would amuse even his aged vision. He saw a great deal of things that bored him to tears. but wait his eyes spoke to him. He caught view of a boy sitting on a bench reading a book. A smile across his face; one of both wicked and kindled influence. The boy reminded him of himself. Young and full of desire to learn the ways of the world. Raggo tapped his cane to his heels and took a gentle stride toward the boy at the bench. But suddenly... as if to tease the ground beneath his feet... Raggo turned and walked a path diagonal to the bench to move around it. He stood now behind the bench with his right hand on his cane. His cane tapped his heels again and he leaned forward with an empty left hand to the bench. His eyes glanced over the boy and then down at the book. He meant to investigate what the boy was reading and his level of interest.

Lilly has awaken from the old tattered worn down tent which her mother had given her before leaving the village of Varastad, she gave a soft yawn and began to exit out of the ageing tent. Lilly stood up and she began to stretched her arms out, she looked around her surroundings, tall damp tress with the ageing leaves falling down onto the soft deep green grass, Lilly looked up and noticed a jet black crow was upon a jagged branch of a old tree was watching her, she let out a soft sigh and began to pack her tent into a rucksack provided by her tutor from the academy of magic.

Lilly double checked she had everything her orbs, her spell book, her smaller bag and her daggers, she felt happy knowing that she is all prepared and had everything. Lilly was going to miss the academy her mother had sent her to, at the age of 17 her mother wanted her to have a better life and spent most of her money to send her to the academy of magic for her and had been there for five years . Lilly's tutor taught her how to use her orbs, how to defend herself and how to use her spell book which he had given her at the start of the year. Lilly sighed hoping that her mother was okay, she decided to thank her mother and pay her back the money which she used to send her to the academy.

Lilly started to head down the damp muddy pathway towards her village, hopefully it will only take her about and hour to get to Varastad. Lilly begun to hum a small lullaby her mother use to sing to her as a child, she hopes her mother will recognise her. Lilly looked up whilst walking and noticed there where a deep black rain cloud hovering above her, she stopped for a second and pulled up her hood up which covers her eyes slightly and continued walking hoping it won't start pouring it down with heavy rain.

Originally posted by Phoenix3068
Raggo entered the city without another word with a cane spun in his hand. He makes for an egotistical appearance. Raggo's cane tapped the ground at the guard-dogs feet. He then, contradictory to his original act of saying nothing, spoke bluntly "Good boy" before pursuing his leisurely walk into the city.

Tip Top Tippidy Tap Raggo's cane abuses the ground with light taps. He walked the grounds of Loran with curious eyes following the residents. He glance right ways and left ways and upways and downways; he hoped to see a sight that would amuse even his aged vision. He saw a great deal of things that bored him to tears. but wait his eyes spoke to him. He caught view of a boy sitting on a bench reading a book. A smile across his face; one of both wicked and kindled influence. The boy reminded him of himself. Young and full of desire to learn the ways of the world. Raggo tapped his cane to his heels and took a gentle stride toward the boy at the bench. But suddenly... as if to tease the ground beneath his feet... Raggo turned and walked a path diagonal to the bench to move around it. He stood now behind the bench with his right hand on his cane. His cane tapped his heels again and he leaned forward with an empty left hand to the bench. His eyes glanced over the boy and then down at the book. He meant to investigate what the boy was reading and his level of interest.

Chair was utterly oblivious to the fact that the source of his current subject matter was looking over his shoulder. He had begun reading slowly, taking in each word individually, one by one. He enjoyed doing so, it make it feel like the first steps taken on a new and wondrous road. By the time he was being watched, however, his eyes are flitting across the pages rapidly, taking in whole paragraphs in moments and flipping through pages so quickly one might mistake him for simply skimming, not hungrily drinking in every ounce of the literature. Already he had made progress a fourth of the way into the book. A particular passage did make him pause, however, as he broke out into a fit of giggles and then said in a mocking stern voice, "Oh Raggo, you scoundrel!"

The teased man raised an eyebrow at the words of the boy. The boy said his name, but couldn't have known that it was him who stood behind him. He took notice of the book; the book being about him. Was he talking to the book? Raggo smiled coy. With his hand holding the back of the bench, he lightly scampered around the bench and took a seat next to boy. Once seated, he leaned in to read along with the boy with a smile upon his face. The boy took an interest in his life; why not take an interest in the boy. He could always use another test subject.

There was more meaning in his closer investigation then he let on of course. Raggo glanced over the boys body. Investigated his clothing, his books, all of his gear. He was not a normal person. He felt like he saw the boy before, but could not place his hand on it.

That's right, check everywhere. A voice called out. The sight of the village of Varastad was a terrible one. The buildings were torn apart, as if cleaved viciosly apart by a blade. Fires across the top of the buildings roar viciously, having given the entire village the look of an inferno. The sides of buildings, drenched with steam rising from them. Blood splattered across the walls. Dead bodies were not only pressed to the walls, but nearly indented into them. Windows were shattered, doors were knocked in, people were pulled from their homes and killed when they resisted. There was still great panic in the village, even with so many dead. Dark creatures tore the bodies apart; both the deceased and the still living, the latter of which left a tramendous painful scream in the air. The ground itself was filled with blood and corpses. Armed fighters lay dead as if they were fledglings; burned to an unrecognizable black char or torn to pieces. A woman suddenly broke free to escape. She ran for the closest exit of the village, the beasts followed behind. If she could just... It was too late. The woman cried out and was flung to the ground. A knife in her lower back. The creatures circle her and tore into her flesh with their teeth, she cried in pain. The creatures were struck back by a man. The woman laid limp on the ground with trembling skin, torn apart already at her arms and legs. Blood soaked the ground where her predetermined corpse would lay. The man reached down and grabbed her head, pulling at her hair. He took hold of the blade stabbed in her lower back and he twists it. The woman screams in unbarable pain. "Why are you doing this?!" A smirk scurried across the mans face. Why was he doing this? The man stomped onto the girls back, pinning her to the ground beneath his foot.

"Because he ordered me to, of course!"

He? Who was he? The woman didn't know, she knew only the pain that this man forced on her. Her eyes began to widen; the veins showed from her eyes. An ear shattering scream quickly filled the air as the blade dug into her back was mercilessly torn out. Blood flunk back from the blade, it covered the body of one of the creatures. The other creatures attacked it, tearing their own kin to pieces for the blood. The man placed the blade to the womans throat and smirked once more.

"I'm here for just one person," The cruel man whispered. "This person carries with them an artifact." His hand with the blade pulled back and he hid it within a cloth. The blade was gone, but his hand drew back. An item clenched in his hand. An orb that burns with a fierce heat. The womans eyes tremble, the feeling of pain was still intense. She would die, she knew she would. "This person holds something like this. I know they're from here. If you tell me where they are... I'll take them and leave." The womans face is full of pain. Pain... and nothing else. She knew that her life would end. She knew that the village was gone. Even if she told him, his leaving would benefit nothing. Everyone there was already dead. Someone this merciless wouldn't spare anyone.

"Go to hell.." The womans last few words of defiance cross her lips. Everything goes quiet. The mans hand clenches the womans throat. She chokes, coughing blood. No sound is heard. Her heartbeat pounds loud from within her chest. Her eyes burst open wide. Nothing. The woman drops to the ground with eyes opened, but breath gone. The man turned from the discarded corpse and his gaze passed around the village, looking at the few other survivors he had tied up with hands bound behind them. They were on their knees, almost in an execution manner. The beasts that tore into the village watch them closely. The man didn't need to keep an eye on them; if they tried to escape, the creatures would eat them. He was more worried about the monsters. If he didn't keep them in check, they'd kill everything. The Orb User that belonged to that village was the only one that mattered. The man sighed.

"Here we go again..." The man slowly turned from the lot and walked off to face one of the burning buildings. He pulled from his person a parchment and a needle. The parchment itself wasn't great in size. He poked his fingertip with the needle to draw blood and then began writing upon the tiny parchment. A few words and scratches, the scratches indicated numbers, the words dealt with the location and time. After completing the message, he rolled up the tiny parchment and whistled. A bird descended from the sky before him. The bird was a compliment of white and red; specifically the feathers where white and the tips were red. A grim sight to see. The bird landed upon the mans left arm and its talons dug in. He didn't seem to care. Instead, he tied the parchment to the leg of the bird and raised his arm as he signaled it off. The bird ascended into the sky and left the village, heading for its destination. "What a pain in the ass", the man said with an irritated look. He turned and walked from the wall of the building and looked over the destruction. Either the person that they saught was not here... or they were hiding. The man was more then willing to drown the entire village to find out which it was, but Von Karma wouldn't accept that. Things needed to be done more finely. So the search continued.

Lilly felt something was wrong as she exited out of the deep green forest, she clutch her rucksack close to her and began to look around carefully, suddenly she notice black smoke coming from Varastad. She began to run as fast as she can towards her village, as Lilly appeared at what it was suppose to be the front entrance of the village she notice dead bodies where everywhere, she clench her fist in anger.

Lilly entered the burning village carefully, she knew it was unsafe to be here now but she needed to find her mother, if she was still alive, she began to hear deep growling noises behind her, Lilly pulled out her Ice orb and held it in her hand, she turned round slowly and see two of the hideous creatures charging right at her, she clench hold of the orb and shot her arm out sending out a ice beam at the creatures freezing them into place. "That should hold them into place" she muttered to herself.

Lilly shoved her orb back into her tattered rucksack and then walked deeper into the burning village also noticing a lot of dead decapitated bodies which sent chills to her spine hoping her mother was still alive, she sighed softly and began to look around for her mother.