the shape of justice [Rickter, Kala, Iselya]

[Laveriel]

11th of Ash, Year 122 of the Age of Steel

Iselya had only heard stories about the Warrens and none of them were good. As she gazed deep into the Chasm, a part of her wondered if she would ever get out. It had been a long while since she had been in a proper battle, but she would be lying if she said she did not feel a thrill at the thought of it. All these years of hiding had made her restless and to have a clear mission in her head - as suicidal as it was - felt almost calming.

Her silvery eyes took in the people that surrounded her, her fellow Dawnmartyrs. The two men she had gotten to know only recently, Pelagos and Caden, were with them. She wished they had more chances to talk in order to plan how their abilities could work together, but alas things had been moving faster than anyone could expect. They were all clad in the best armor they could their hands on and it almost reminded her of the olden days. The memory left a pang in her chest, but she knew it was not the time to grieve for the past. They were here fighting for the future, to save what they could of it.

She wandered closer to Valron who was carrying a bag similar to hers, their personal supplies split between them, and his bow strapped securely on his bag. “This might be my worst idea yet.”

He laughed with an ease that didn’t match their surroundings. “Or your best. You have been itching for some action. I can tell.”

Iselya shrugged as she turned to the rest of the group. “I guess we will see.”

She gave Rickter and Aoren an uneasy smile. “Any advice to give for someone who’s never been to the Warrens before?” As far as she could tell, her companions had experience with the terrible place before, and meanwhile, she would be going in with very little knowledge. She would need all the help that she could.

[Paragon]

Aoren watched as the others arrived. Seeing his bondmate made some of the tension in his chest ease and unravel. He brought a hand up to cup the side of Rickter’s face, brushing a thumb over the man’s cheek. Across the Bond, he sent a thread of support, wrapping around the wolf mentally in a tight hug. He knew that neither of them was looking forward to revisiting the Deeps of the Warrens but this was necessary. He firmly believed that it would all be worth it in the end. As he dropped his hand he looked to see the arrival of the others. He nodded to Iselya and her companion Valron.

“The Warrens is comprised of five layers, that we know of. Each layer is dangerous. Some more than others. All of them seem to have the ruins of a civilization of some sort scattered through out. As far as we can tell, the Warrens stretch beneath the entirety of the Karnor region. The largest known entrance is the Yawning Chasm before us.” He had only ever been as far as the third deep himself and he knew of very, very few who had ever been further than that.

“The First Deep is the one that is most known to us. The Buried Empire. It appears to be a civilization that was swallowed by the Warrens. The mad creatures that swarm the region of Karnor most often come from it. Twisted mockeries of human life. Don’t be fooled by them. There’s nothing human about them. Not anymore.” He had killed droves of the creatures in his time. Both in his line of duty, while hunting for money, and alongside Rickter and Talon. There wasn’t a soldier alive in Kalzasi who wasn’t acquainted with the First Deep. It was everything beyond it that became murky.

“The Second Deep is comparatively more peaceful but no less dangerous. The Otherwilds. It is rare for creatures of the Second Deep to make their way to the surface. Most of them are strange forms of animals and other wildlife. Strange and sometimes miraculous. But it’s not the animals you need to worry about. It’s the plants. Some of them look beautiful but will just as soon tear your face off as the next dangerous creature.” He had seen enough armed mercenaries and soldiers get grabbed and sucked into the gullet of a man-eating plant to know that the real dangers of the Otherwilds rest most in the environment, not the animals that occupied it.

“The Third Deep, where we are headed, is the Haunted Reaches.” A slight shiver went through him as he spoke the name. “It is a place of death, undead, wraiths, ghouls, and eldritch spirits. There is a creature there known as The Monument. Some say it rules that domain. Others say it is a Mistlord who was imprisoned there. I’ve never seen it. Pray we do not. It is a creature that is far worse than any lich we may face.”

He had heard enough stories about the Monument to know that it was better to leave it alone if they could at all avoid it. He was not willing to press their luck against such a being. He was powerful. They were all strong but he had no doubt that they would be nothing against such a being. That was, if it took notice of them at all.

“The Fourth Deep is known as the Mechanus. I have never been there. To date, I know of only one person alive who has ever been there and returned with their sanity intact.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Beyond that, I know nothing of it. Nor do I want to. It is exceptionally rare for anything from it to ever make its way to the surface. I’ve never fought something from the Mechanus but from what I am told, that is something I am very grateful for.”

“The Fifth Deep is…unknown. To everyone. It is only known to exist because there is a record from the monks of the Temple of Fallen Skies that makes mention of it. A single sentence in a registry of an ancient expedition. Nothing more. Whatever is there, I imagine is best left buried there.”

With that, Aoren turned to face the Yawning Chasm. It was ominously quiet. The mining operations had not begun for the day thus the workers who made a living excavating the treasures found in the Warrens were absent. As he faced it, Pelagos spoke up.

“Caden and I managed to map out a path for you. Your road will take you near the lair of a Saintiri, one of the rulers of the First Deep." Aoren felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

Great.

“If you can manage to get past it unnoticed, the path from there will lead you directly to the Third Deep. After that, you will be six candles from the lich’s stronghold.” Day and night meant nothing in the Warrens. The landscape did not follow any ordinary concepts of time. As a result, the most common method of keeping track of time was to burn a candle that traditionally lasted at least an hour. Turning back to Pelagos and Caden, Aoren extended a hand for the map of their path. Hopefully the path of the Warrens had not changed too drastically since it had been taken. It was a known property of the Warrens that its structure shifted periodically, at least once a season but sometimes more. Certain places remained constant but the things around them shifted and changed. It was one of the reasons why attempting to permanently map out the Warrens was a futile effort.

“Thank you friends.” He nodded to the Dawnmartyrs who each bowed their heads. Looking to Rickter and the others, Aoren let out a breath.

“Let’s go.”

---

Aoren dropped down on top of the twisted humanoid creature from behind. With a lethal swiftness, he plunged a sword through its skull, silencing it before it could even scream. He picked up the corpse of his kill and dragged it toward the crevice nearby, lowering it quietly. He dropped down to join the rest of the group.

“Our path is ahead. Beyond this crevice, we have no cover. I can blanket us in an illusion to conceal us but we must be careful not to pass too closely to the roamers with eyes in their mouths. They will be able to see through my illusions if we stray too close. What they know, the Saintiri will know and if they spot us, the horde within the temple will follow.”

Ahead of them stood a pyramidal type structure with obelisks that were several stories tall at the four points of the base. The point of the pyramid rose high into the heights of the cavern, stopping midway through the air. Hanging down from the ceiling was another carved pyramidal structure whose top point was mere feet away from touching the tip of the ground pyramid. Carved across the breadth of the surface of both pyramids were symbols that Aoren could only guess was language that was now long dead. The shambling hordes of the creatures of the First Deep covered the area, flowing into and out of the temple. They meandered around the compound in droves.There were Shamblers, there were Hungered, there were abominations that were more twisted than that. Some flew. Most wandered the grounds.

All of them obeyed the will of the Saintiri creature who dwelled in the temple.

The journey to this point had not been easy but they had survived thus far.

“Ready?”

[Kala Leukos]

.

Given that Lord Aoren himself had requested her presence, Kala thought it better to ask forgiveness than permission, and simply arrived with Kaus and the Silver Wings ere dawn. The four of them appeared out of the matin darkness arrayed for battle or whatever they might face. If they required her skills as a necromancer, then she would yield them up; perhaps she would even learn a thing or two that would help her connect the dots in Garel's grimoire that she might give the gift of wings that she had been given. And necromancy wasn't all the aid she might offer.

The twins, Indric, and Ceran were pleased to see Caden and made quiet greeting to him before they departed for the depths.

Much of the Warrens was familiar to them now, though they were hardly experts. The First Deep had been their Warren March. Now they knew quick, relatively safe routes to the Second Deep to hunt for dragonshards. The Third Deep had been their goal in search of the Monument, whom they hadn't found. Kala was wary, but not afraid of the creature. Perhaps she ought to have been, but if it had business with her, she would meet it undaunted.

"We are ready," she replied for her people. "But I have prepared something to help us." As she explained, Kaus and the boys passed out vials of coolly glowing liquid. "If you anoint your weapons with the ichor, they will have a stronger effect against the undead. Focus on cutting edges and points of penetration, but they will work on blunt weapons as well." She had a supply of ghost darts as well, which might not be needed unless they came across actual ghosts, but if she was the only necromancer here present, she was going to be prepared for anything. Her illumite soul totem was carefully tucked away. It would be helpful if they were in a confrontation, but not if they were trying to go unnoticed.

She was unsure exactly how effective the ichor would be. Most of the tomes she had perused spoke of more standard undead, and the gravebound of the First Deep were mistborn horrors as much as they were undead. Her Semblance yielded no definitive information, and she would have to study them for some time at this distance to be sure and it did not seem to be a thing they had time for. Kala and Indric nocked arrows in their bows just in case; they could move at speed and still be prepared to offer some covering fire if the need arose.

Kala hoped the need would not arise, but it would be naive to assume this would be a bloodless campaign.

.

[Rickter]

The Shape of Justice

Ash 10, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

The wolf looked at those gathered and so far, wondered if the rest of their pack would arrive before the group set off for the deep. Iselya and the Dawnmartyr companions all seemed fit for the journey, though, when asked about the Warrens he briefly raised an eyebrow in response to the inquiry. It became apparent Iselya had never actually been down there, therefore, Rickter assumed it best to leave it to his Bondmate to elaborate on the finer details of the reaches below.

In that time the rest of their party arrived, Kala and the Silver Wings bolstering their ranks as the wolf stood firmly amongst the crowd. Quite the pack he would be charged with protecting, thankfully, he wasn't the only resourceful one within the group. All the same, Rickter quietly observed every single person that was around them. From Aoren and Iselya to the Dawnmartyrs, to the Silver Wings and Kala specifically, before a furrow in his brow led him to avert his gaze in consideration.

There were quite a few tones to her scent that masked the natural smell of the frigid mountains, fragrances of fruits and flowers were prevalent. It was clear she wore a perfume that, while fragrant, was subtle but important to note. Each tone he traced needed to be masked if he were to protect her on this journey, though, there was no mistaking the air around her as he realized that scent nearly right away.

It was a scent tinged with the Aetherium like Florian, something he didn't expect to pick up on, and would undoubtedly test the nature of his shields just a bit. Luckily Kala wasn't the source of antimagic like their other resident Draegir, so he didn't have to account for that like he would've if the Lysanrin had accompanied them. His train of thought, however, became cut off when he realized he was handed a vial of ichor. Rickter hadn't had to use the substance since their last excursion, and he definitely wouldn't forget to use its application once they were facing the thick of whatever horde might await them.

"Thank you." He said respectively with a slight bow of his head, the vial slipped into one of the pouches on his belt as he looked from Kala to Iselya once more. "Pretty much keep sounds to a minimal if you can, I'm already working on a ward that'll keep us all hidden... but it's not guaranteed to shield our presence from everything down there." Not when he hadn't fully explored the Warrens enough to know what all exactly dwelled down there.

Needless to say, the weave of his ward was already easy and simple by design, since those he traveled with would be blanketed by his aura during the trip. The fun part was taking every scent of the individuals present, and identifying them all individually one by one to make up the weave itself. Semblance significantly helped with this as it not only incorporated their aetherial signatures, but the auras they also possessed when he briefly took a glimpse at their outer layers. Kala was the tricky one with this, of course, but Rickter had learned his lessons from Talon enough to avoid staring directly into a sun thankfully.

"While we're down there, the aetheric signatures we give off will be masked. Hidden so that the denizens of the deep don't sense us, but that will become difficult if we disperse or separate as a group." Personalized wards could be constructed in the time they spent exploring, but even then, Rickter noticed how stretched he would be if he enacted that little contingency. So for now, he trusted that everyone in the group would know to remain close. "Lead the way, Shinzo, I'll keep the rear guard." He assured as they began to set off, the wolf's aether finally lacing throughout the party to weave their signatures in with his ward.

-----

As they progressed the sound of flesh skewering briefly filled his ears, as Rickter helped anybody who might've needed to step down onto the next plateau of the First Deep they crossed. They had already seen a small but proportionate chunk of the Buried Empire, and yet the closer they drew to the lair of Saintiri the more relentless the chills became as they shot up Rickter's spine.

The wolf could literally sense the danger that was both ahead of them and all around. And while he might've felt uncomfortable were he alone, or with his familial pack, the comfort in their numbers brought a small sense of exhilaration to his anxiety. While they had been successful in exercising stealth, Aoren showed apprehension before he turned to warn the party of the obstacle that they faced next. Open space with no room to hide, and only the work of illusions to hide them from the Shinaegri that watched the area.

"If I may, Shinzo, we don't have to just rely on your illusions to cover our presence." With a wary glance ahead of them, Rickter brought his hands together before his gaze fell on them. "While the lighting isn't the same as sunlight, I ought to be able to manipulate it with Negation as well. Our presence can doubly be hidden with an additional ward to refract the light." How successful it would be he wasn't sure, but applied with Aoren's skillful magic, then the odds of slipping in undetected should've improved. It did, however, also rely on everyone remaining awfully close, as his aura could mask their presence... but bending light in a large radius wasn't something he'd practiced quite yet.

Nevertheless, a shimmer of the northern lights emanated from between his hands, as the aether layered itself throughout his aura. To the group, it might've seemed like nothing significant happened, but the nature of the magic was to affect the area around them also. So as the second ward weaved itself into the fabric of his primary ward, Rickter patiently observed Aoren to incorporate any necessary additions into the makeup of his Negation. For a magic meant to cancel out any and all foreign magic, the wolf had learned quickly that it also complimented it rather well if done correctly.

The sight of the landmark before them was eerie to behold, and the teeming numbers of the horde surrounding it nearly made him shiver. But Rickter believed they could make it through unscathed, so long as he kept the wards reinforced as planned, and nobody strayed too far out of the reach of his aura. "Ready." He assured Aoren before he glanced to the rest, determined to make sure they were also ready before daring to go into the viper's nest looming before them.

The bastard sword Way to Dawn rested at his back in the even the needed to draw the weapon, though, Rickter prayed to the Divines that wouldn't be so necessary right away.

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter"

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

[Laveriel]

As terrible as it sounded, Iselya was grateful that what they could be facing in the Third Deep would be the undead and eldritch spirits. Those she had knowledge of, while twisted humanoids and murderous plants were outside her area of expertise. She wouldn’t be completely clueless at least.

The beginning of their journey ended up being rather uneventful and Pelagos had kindly taken the time to swiftly brief her about the creatures that they would encounter. Shamblers, hungered ones, specters - a whole lot of things that had thoroughly convinced her to never return if they survived this trip.

Unfortunately, it seemed like the peaceful part of their travel would end soon. As Aoren described what awaited them out there, she muttered a silent prayer to Arcas and Drimera. Pelagos had told her enough for her to know that if a Saintiri noticed their presence… Let’s just hope it never got to that point.

“If you anoint your weapons with the ichor, they will have a stronger effect against the undead. Focus on cutting edges and points of penetration, but they will work on blunt weapons as well.” It was quite a pleasant surprise that Kala was a necromancer, but she supposed it was the least surprising thing about how the young woman had changed.

Iselya took the vial of ichor and thanked them. She brought a bit of her own ichor in her pack along with her flesh-shaping tools, but they were mostly prepared to act as a first aid kit. Her skills in necromancy were basic and the siltori had never really learned how to the world magic offensively. If ichor could really help them in the fight against the undead, it would be invaluable.

While she already had Iratallin in her left hand, now the siltori also summoned Dawnstrife on her right. Both swords were, as always, covered in ominous glyphs - a sure sign that the blades had been imbued with her simpler curses. Even the smallest cut of her blade would render its victim paralyzed for a few seconds and amplify pain. The more complicated afflictions she would need to weave as the need arise.

Peering out of the crevice slightly, the elf took in the bloodcurdling sight that awaited them. She couldn’t even begin to fathom just how many creatures meandered around the odd pyramid. Between Aoren and Rickter’s magic, it seemed like they had quite a foolproof plan to go by unnoticed. But her years in the order had thought her that there was no such thing as a foolproof plan. They had to be ready for anything.

Iselya let out a nervous laugh as she looked at her companions. When her eyes met Valron, he nodded and nocked an arrow on his bow. It really did feel like the old days and she couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

“Save some of your strength, Rickter. Mask only our scents and our sound. I will shield us from sight.” With that, Aoren reached up to touch upon an earring in his right ear. A dull black stud that, when he brushed his thumb over it, a touch of aethereal blue shimmered over its surface. Extending outward from his hand was what appeared to be a mirage of heat. It spread outward forming a dome that encompassed him, Rickter, Kala, Iselya, Kaus, Ceran, Indric and Valron. He remained still for a moment before letting out a breath. The fire in Aoren’s eyes burned a little stronger but only just, as he gave a nod. The perimeter of the dome remained visible in the form of the mirage that shimmered in the air.

“Do not go beyond the edge. Move with me.” He began walking steadily toward what appeared to be a cavernous hole in the cave wall. The path beyond it was dark but he remained focused on it. He walked slow, avoiding knocking rocks and carefully stepping over puddles of water. As they approached a tall spire of rock, Aoren held up a hand and closed his fist, signaling for the group to stop walking. He held his breath.

From around the corner of the rocky spire stepped a towering Hungered. Then a second one. Their lumbering bodies rippled with warped muscles, limbs easily big enough to grab hold of even a man of Aoren’s size and squeeze him with a single fist. Slithering red tendrils writhed along the nearest one’s form. The two creatures stomped by them, seemingly oblivious to their presence. They continued on without noticing them and after they had gotten just far enough away so that the group could pass, Aoren motioned for the group to continue onward. He moved more swiftly, guiding them forward. As they neared the cavernous archway, he felt his chest tighten. A sudden dizziness made him stumble and the illusion shielding them from view wavered for a split second. Aoren came to a stop, touching the tips of his fingers to his forehead as he broke out in a cold sweat. As he shook his head, trying to shake off the dizziness, a rock colored creature moved along the surface of the cave wall. It turned its head in an unnatural direction, opening its mouth to expose an eyeball. Where it’s eyes should have naturally been, opened two mouths that began emitting shrieks.

Aoren felt a chill sweep through him. Within moments, other shrieks began echoing through the cavern. The two Hungered who had been lumbering away from them, turned their heads. The creature on the cave wall leapt from the rocky wall, spreading its arms and circling around them as it took flight on fleshy wings.

From the pyramidal temple, there came a creaking groan. It sounded as though heavy doors ground against stone. The yawning of a ghostly wail echoed through the space. The shadows grew darker and a swarm of creatures began surging over the walls of the temple and in their direction.

“Run!” He turned to look at the group, dropping the illusion that had been concealing them. “Run! Run now!”

[Rickter]

The Shape of Justice

Ash 10, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

The wolf nodded in response to his companion's instruction, focusing more on the scents he'd identified earlier, as well as the sounds their movements would generate. Noise suppression was actually something new for Rickter to count in, though, comparatively, Negation relied on the senses just as well as Semblance. Therefore, he integrated that little thought in with the weave of the ward, the task set to quiet the footsteps and noises of all those who walked with him.

"Alright, we're cloaked now, love." That would mean they were all relying on Aoren to keep them covered, and the Knight Commander did not fail to disappoint in that regard. When he sensed the shift in aether currents Rickter noted the waves of a heat mirage, which billowed out to form a dome around their position Aoren finished the cast. The wolf would have to note such a clever application of Masquerade, given that his Bondmate had used it quite strategically in their last bout together.

Ahead of them remained the cavernous tunnel they were bound for, once Aoren reaffirmed the conditions of their march toward the threshold. It was the same functioning stipulation as his current magic, since his aura was currently masking all of their presence at the moment. As he kept true to remaining the rear guard Rickter stuck close to those at the back of the group, making sure not to push everyone too close into a huddle, in the event they needed to be reactive toward an unexpected situation.

Rickter knew all too well by now that shit always tended to go differently than one planned, especially when he himself tried to reinforce that plan on his own. Nevertheless, they heeded every signal that their leader gave, stopping within the thick of the horde as Shamblers and Hungered alike roamed. The putrid smell of rotted iron and decayed flesh filled his nostrils, and for a moment, Rickter felt glad he didn't feel the urge to sneeze as a result of the smell. He would've instilled another layer of aether just for his own nose, but to cast out in the open now likely risked compromising their position.

So rather than that he just breathed a bit less, slower and deeper to keep his head cool, all the while ignoring the traces of rotted flesh that assailed his nostrils. The passing of the two larger ones gave cause for Rickter to twitch his fingers a bit, his eyes solely locked on the lumbering figures until they finally passed by without acknowledgment. He was undoubtedly on edge now, ready to strike back at any moment, in the event someone or something decided to sniff them out.

Nearing the archway the wolf checked behind them to make sure anything near their flanks wouldn't react. It was within that moment a chill swept straight through Rickter, and it came from none other than the partner he trusted to lead them. Aoren had a dizzy spell strike him suddenly, what caused it though Rickter had no clue, only that the very chill they shared afterward stemmed from a good reason. An earthly-toned creature crawled along the upper walls of the archway before them, and when its maw opened to reveal the gazing eye, the other orifices on it's face began to emit a set eerie shrieks which unnerved Rickter greatly.

They had been discovered. “Run! Run now!” Aoren urged as the illusion withered away, Rickter's eyes now on the tunnel before them while the others reacted to what he demanded. Yet their progression would quickly be cut short, as the ambience of shrieks and shrills that filled the whole of the area, soon flagged an obstruction in their exit strategy when the horde started teeming before them. Not just from within the tunnel, but from other crags around the sides of its entrance. Not good.

Sheer dread filled his expression as Rickter turned to see the creatures that acknowledged them now. Now that their enemies were doomed to close in on them, and they had nowhere in particular to run, it was time to fall back on a Plan B at this rate. Brute force though? The last time Rickter applied that tactic with his magic, he'd caused a scene within the Wintergarten Circle... Now though, seemed like the right time to apply that sort of thinking. Thus with a flick of his wrist the wolf duplicated his sword Way to Dawn in his right hand, the blade held downward behind his waist as he focused on the surge of Shinaegri coming from their rear.

"Nowhere to run! We push through!" He urged as the tightened grip on his weapon's hilt generated a current of air, his blade varnishing with ice as the current flowing down the blade streaming with snow particles. Rickter took the hilt with both hands before he swung the blade outward, and hurled the weapon straight into the first wave of creatures that threatened to close in. Right away Way to Dawn unleashed a blizzard within the trajectory, slinging out ice particles into a cone before the blade itself collided into a group of Shamblers.

The impact resulted in a detonation of ice that exploded from the blade, as the residual aether within surged out to scatter the sword into several different fragments. As the pieces of the duplicate rebounded out from the point of collision, a wave of ice smashed through the first several Shinaegri caught in the blast radius, freezing them in place as the cones of ice gave them a moment of reprieve. The rest of the spiraling fragments whirled out into the air, before they boomeranged back down to generate ice stalagmites where they crashed.

The wolf pulled the actual Way to Dawn off from the holster on his back, and held it forward to cut down the several excess Shinaegri his first attack couldn't hold off. Seeing the group behind him deal with those that poured from the cavern's entrance though, he thought to end his final strike with another complete slash to generate a brief air current. From the ground where he stood ice surged up in another cone, generating a wall around their flanking perimeter that would only rise as tall as Rickter and Aoren.

There was no telling how much time that last stunt would buy them, but if it were enough to clear the way forward, then Rickter would cut through all their enemies just to get better positioning. As it stood they were heavily exposed and nowhere safe, and it wouldn't be long before the rest of the horde shattered the wall of ice he'd generated.

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter"

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

Aoren sprinted forward, summoning his blades as he somersaulted into the air. His sword connected with the body of the flying monstrosity cutting through it as easily as a hot knife through butter. He released a torrent of fire in the direction of the tunnel as he landed, incinerating the handful of creatures scrambling their way toward them.

“Move! Move now!” The roar of creatures swarming in their direction was growing louder. Behind them, coming from the direction of the pyramidal structure, he could see the army of Gravebound making their way toward them. He looked between Rickter, seeing his flash freezing of a wave of enemies and built up a wall of ice.

“Dammit.” He cursed under his breath. Looking at the swarm of creatures piling against the ice wall, Aoren could already see cracks forming. The sight of the Hungered pounding against the ice was sending quakes both across the surface of the wall and across the ground. Combined with the clawing of the Shamblers, it was not a good situation. He flexed his fingers, dematerializing his blades. He firmed his jaw as he felt the ricochet of discomfort that rippled across his body as the rejoining of the aether to his soul. Looking at the still lagging group of companions that seemed frozen in shock, Aoren sighed.

Florian was right. He really didn’t have as much time as he wanted to in order to face all of this. He tugged off his glove and gauntlet, looking down at his hand where the mark of Defiance rest upon his skin. The golden mark shone and through it he could see the links of the chains that still bound him. Closing his eyes, Aoren reached out to that mark and through it, he sent a prayer to the young deity.

Help me. Please.

It was now or never.

Moving swiftly, Aoren began pulling off his clothes. He threw pulled off his cloak, his shirt, kicked off his boots, and threw off his pants then took off at a run. He clenched his hand where the mark of Defiance shone and visualized the weight of the chains that still clung to him.

Let me be free.

Aoren threw off the wall between his shuddered memories and the part of himself that he had been desperately shying away from. He felt fire build up inside of him. It grew warmer and warmer. Fire had always called to him. It burned bright and hot within his core, creating a glowing blaze that began to spread outward from his heart. Along his skin, cracks formed and as he spread his wings, Aoren emit a roar as he finally fully embraced the truth that Florian had been urging him to do since they first met.

That roar echoed through the cavern. Aoren was consumed fully in a blinding blaze of fire and magma that grew larger, and larger, and larger until it took shape. A long tail smashed into the rocks. Two mighty draconic wings spread. A powerful body covered in black and red scales formed. As the fire receded, the flames were drawn into molten pools of lava that became the eyes of a colossal dragon that filled the space. The sweep of horns upon its head created a crown that was set ablaze, painting the dragon’s scales in a fiery light.

The wall of ice was smashed. The advancing horde slowed as it bore witness to the mighty dragon that was now positioning itself between Rickter, Kala, Iselya and their companions.

Aoren opened his mouth emitting a roar that shook the cavern. The glow of molten lava and scorching flames grew in his mouth before erupting in a gout of fire that blasted into the oncoming horde.

Across the Bond, Aoren wrapped himself around Rickter but after that brief touch, urged the wolf to keep running.

Oh…and to also grab his stuff off the ground.

[Rickter]

The Shape of Justice

Ash 10, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

The ice wall had already started to budge, as it was no real bulwark against the might of the creatures that slammed against it. Dread filled his gut for a moment before the wolf growled at the enemies closing in around them. There were too many even for him to cut through, as a great many of Shinaegri just as well climbed over his wall... before the ice began to budge. Already the odds seemed against them, and when Rickter looked to check in on the rest of the party, he found it evident that they were fastly overwhelmed.

And the feelings he felt from Aoren just now. There was a flicker of concern as the wolf's immediate stoicism waned, before Rickter realized what had now gone through his Bondmate's mind. As prepared for battle as he could've been, the wolf never imagined seeing himself faced with the immediate stripping of his soulmate's clothes. Yet it seemed as though Aoren had a plan, a gambit perhaps, that he only thought of within the heat of the moment. And in that moment the connection of their Bond resonated strongly with an Echo.

Flash of riddled pain throughout hourly intervals first seemed through, stiffening Rickter in his tracks as he locked his gaze onto the half-naked man. Torturers used blunt instruments for brute force, and sharpened tools for the precise approach. There was fire. There was anger. But most of all. There was just pain. Endless pain that once ended, left Rickter about ready to fall to a knee once the impressions faded away. Yet still, that searing hot anger and hate. What he felt wasn't only his rage but that of his Bondmate as well, before fire and brimstone soon surged from the roaring man in front of them.

"Aoren!" Rickter shouted fiercely before he felt the need to shield his face, the heat of the molten fires before him already challenging his Deference. Before Rickter however was no longer the Kathar Avialae he had always known the man to be, but now, a crimson dragon that grew exponentially in size. Immediately the first wave of the teeming horde had been repelled, and the wall of ice completely decimated now as the wolf looked at the massive creature next to him. That... is Aoren?! He felt utter confusion now that the rage within him died down, having been overcome with a sense of sheer awe at the sight of what he was witnessing.

"Rickter!" The warmth of his Bondmate's message came with the call from his ancestor, the wolf's shock finally passed as he watched Aoren bury their enemies in a cone of roiling flame. As the heat gushed toward them, the wolf immediately wanted to take action and provide his support... were it not the other part of that intention Rickter had felt. Going on without him?! Every fiber in his body commanded him not to, and yet even so... "I know what you're thinking. But you cannot!"

And why not!? A clench in his jaw followed when he gripped the hilt of his blade tighter.

"You have to trust in your comrades! Remember? You are on an important mission, and your pack is at stake!" Even if he could've left Aoren behind, Rickter would've found difficulty focusing on such a mission. He'd just gotten one of them back, and the fear of losing him again strained him already. "Believe in your friends, Rickter!" Alistor commanded of him. "And carry out the role you need to play!"

The wolf chuffed lowly but released his hold on his sword, the Pact weapon immediately levitating in place as he turned to face those centered within the group. "Listen up! Grab his gear for me and everyone stand close together." He would've liked to have gotten their permission beforehand to do this, but alas, time was of the essence and so was their window of opportunity for escape. "I'm going to get the lot of you to the Third Deep from here, but to do that I'm going to need a minute to prepare this barrier."

The Dawnmartyrs, twins, and their company had that brief frame of time to do as he instructed, while Rickter's preparation took place immediately with a clasp of his hands. Once he began to charge his aether, Way to Dawn glistened with a brief sheen before two more duplicates swirled into materialization near it. The idea was for the Pacted blades to keep any straggling Shamblers at bay, while his other other-half continued to churn molten Shinaegri out of the horde around them. With the parting of his fingers to generate the first anchor, the wolf then looked to those among the group.

Kala specifically. He had no way of knowing for sure, but he couldn't mistake the scent of aether radiating off her before. Master or not he wasn't sure how successful the attempt would be a second time, but thankfully, he did not have to keep anything contained other than those carried by the barrier. Nevertheless, he chose Kala to be the very anchor as her aura would surely keep the barrier charged. "Here goes nothin." The wolf released his hands to spread the weave of aether outward, lacing it through the air as the northern lights shimmered around the group.

Then came the fun part.

Since there were several people this time, he'd have to incorporate their aetheric signatures into the weave as well. As that was the task of the first layer, Rickter then generated the next before a sheen glossed over the air around them. The group looked to be encompassed in a shimmering bubble before the clench of his fists generated a small gust from the barrier's outer surface. As he thought. He knew not the immensity of Kala's aura but with just the right weave of the Traversion ward, he felt the space in the air condense before the rippling barrier finally shifted. Just as he had done once before, Rickter shrank the barrier down around the group before they became enveloped within the dome. Where they were now was where the wolf had placed a Hobgoblin before, within a certain space empowered by the aetheric composition of Kala's own aura.

Within the space near the palm of his left hand, a bubble shone brightly like a beacon of light, as Rickter turned face his weapons once more. With a stern frown he willed for Way to Dawn to dance back into his grip, before the wolf gave one last look at the impressive sight before him. Eikean please hear my prayer, Rickter wished as he turned to face the smashed entrance before him, "watch over that one for me." The pebbles and rocks around his boots suddenly vibrated once he activated the Seeming within them, before Rickter launched himself into a full-on dash while he hovered inches off the ground.

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter"

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

[Laveriel]

Honestly, the siltori thought they had all followed Aoren’s lead quite well. As they approached the cave opening, Iselya could almost believe that perhaps things would be fine after all. But of course, fate was never that kind. She felt her heart drop a moment before the shrieks started to fill the cave. Her head whipped around and she could see a thousand eyes simultaneously turning toward them.

“Run! Run now!”

They all sprinted into action as she could feel the ground rumbling underneath her feet - the weight of hundreds of creatures moving towards them. Her cursed blades left her hands and began dancing in the air, dismembering the monsters that had climbed on the walls and tried to get a drop on them.

As they entered the tunnel, Rickter’s magic managed to hold the horde off, she knew the ice wall would not stand forever. This certainly might be the end of them. At least until a blinding light exploded around Aoren and before she could truly process what was happening, his figure grew and grew until it revealed a black dragon. Flames flowed from his mouth and the air around them began to warm. Soon it was hot enough for her skin to prickle with pain.

Now running to escape the blistering heat, Valron scooped up Aoren’s belongings while the siltori followed up from behind. She looked back constantly, marveling that her companion was actually a dragon and making sure the stragglers that somehow managed to go past Aoren’s flame didn’t get too close.

She wasn’t sure what their next plan could be. They were in a cave system and running might lead them to an escape, but it almost might lead them to a dead end. Or it also might lead to another horde waiting for them on the other side. They would need to come up with something else and fast. Fortunately, it seemed like Rickter had an idea.

“I'm going to get the lot of you to the Third Deep from here, but to do that I'm going to need a minute to prepare this barrier.” Beautiful northern lights surrounded them and it was unfortunate that she didn’t have the time to appreciate the magic.

“One minute,” Iselya nodded as she turned in the direction where they had come from. The Dawnmartyrs all had summoned their pact weapons and duplicates, including hers, and the blades surrounded them. Rickter’s pact weapons were also hovering and ready, but she figured it would be more effective if he focused his entire efforts on creating his barrier. “We’ll keep them away until you’re ready.”

Even covered in fire and burns, some of the shamblers still crawled past Aoren’s wall of flames. Since Rickter told them to keep close, the siltori let Iratallin and Dawnstrife do the work. Her blades danced with ease, slicing through heads and limbs.

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