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Stitia, Plane of 13 Deaths (RPG Style Saga/My First Saga)
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While immense, irreparable damage has been done to Owu and the Elves and Wolves on it, the strange absence of some of its greater members meant that a significant part of the population was elsewhere. 70% of the population was killed.
You stand before the port entrance, cloaked, but despite your lack of knowledge with it, you know full well that your cloaked werebird form will only do so much with the door in the way. Plus, standing still in front of the door to open it would likely reveal your presence. You try to think of this tricky situation, and how you could make it through the door without getting caught, but that's when it hit you. What if you went through the door?
You focus. However you accomplish this, you'll have to accomplish it quickly before something happens to the others. You focus, and feel your weight dissipating. It almost feels like you could float as you gently glide onto the port. As you attempt to pick the lock, however, you realize that your hand has passed through the door. You test your theory, putting a foot through, and soon, you're on the other side with... two more guards.
"ACHOO!"
One of the guards sneeze as a feather flies off of you, tickling their nose, but you're still invisible, moreso than before. No one has noticed you.
You slip through an office area, taking care not to bump into anyone, when you hear a commotion going on downstairs.
"U-unhand me, w-woman!"
"But it's no fun to sit here locked in a cage. That's not at all how you treat a lady."
That voice is all too familiar. As you glide down the stairs, a guard falls down, and a stomp renders them dazed.
"Please! Get off of me!"
"Not until you tell me where your prisoners are..."
"N-no! That be directly disobeying Khantsievth's orders!"
"Oh?" The foot twists, and you hear the guard's nose pop. "Isn't he just full of surprises? But you don't have to worry about him..."
"Pwease! Wet me go!"
"Look, darling. You can either tell me, or I can force the information out of you. It's your choice."
"I'ww kiww youw- mmph!"
As you reach the bottom of the stairs, you see Levin stomping on the guard again, this time breaking teeth.
"Pws! Pws stp!" The guard cries.
"You know the rules..."
The guard gurgles, unable to breath as he bleeds from the mouth.
"Oh? Having a hard time there? Sorry. I should of taken into account the fact that you can't breath there..."
After a moment, Levin finally releases the guard, who struggles to catch his breath.
"Fine! I'ww teww you anyfing you wan! Jus don' hur me anymore..."
Levin turns and walks towards a bottle on a bench, but before you can react, she runs into you, and your cloak fades.
"Wah! Vryx!" For the first time, Levin seems embarrassed. "You shouldn't go stalking me like that! You can look all you want, but-"
"Ge bah in yo cew- urk!"
"He's with me. Anyways, where are the others?"
"We hav to mages in da cew bwock Vrygs was in, and a majowity of da cwew in the shiffing cwates oudfide!"
"There should also be an elf..."
"I don' no weah she is! They didn' tell me!"
"You sure you aren't lying?!" Levin pulls out her whip and snaps it.
"Yef! Abfowutewy!"
Who will you look for? The two mages (presumably Arbor and Uvras), the others, or Arlin? If you're looking for Arlin first, do you trust the guard, or will you attempt to pry further?
Also @Tommia , is my character dead?
You know what I'm gonna say Tommy, but I'll say it anyways:
Look for Arlin.
Rafael is very much alive though.
@DrakeGladis: You wish
@Fallen_Lord_Vulganos: Don't worry. If you're back into this I can get you set up with a prompt after I get this mess settled XD (Wait time tbd, I'm back to work now, and I work ten hour shifts Saturday through Tuesday.)
"̸̛͔̺̟̺̘̜̬̤͓͙̱͚́̎̾̑̈͐̂̉̕͜ͅṀ̶̧̝̝̜͓͔̝̥̥̫̘͈̬ͅͅy̷̨̹̜̫͚̳͙̳͚͓͈͔̆́̅̏͛͑͗̒̀̿̽͊͘̚ ̵̺̯̺̫͇̦̩̖̮̤̉̓́̏̎͑́̓̀̈͠c̸̛̝̩̫͚͇̪̫̤̠̬͓̦̅́̉̚ͅḫ̴̖͚̣̯͖̏̀̋̉͝i̴̡̡̢͓͚͇͓̱̹̬̱͉̝̝͖̎̉̓͌̿̎̍͛̓͘̕̕̚l̵̡̯̞͓̥͌̎͌ͅḑ̵̡̡͍̠̦͎̗̮͖̖͑̐͐͗̈́̏̈̓͘.̷̬̋͆͛̽̏̋͋͑̂͗̽͝.̴̡̛̝͎̬̰̰͈̦͙̒̏̔̉̌.̵̛̫̜̟͕͇̳͎͋̉̃̏͐̈́̑͆́̈́ ̴̡̢̨̹̙͔̝̺̱̺̮͈̤̉̾L̷̨̨̩̼͊̅̈́̋̚͝ó̶͈͐õ̸͉̳̰͎̺̻̠͕̙̭͔͎̏͗̀̀̍̽̓͐̄͛͊̀̿͝k̸̛̹̺̘̄̾͂̈́̚͝ ̴̡̡̡̨̛̣͔̙̯̩̹̭̮͕̼̫̉̌̈́́̓̈͐̐à̴͙̱̠̜̩̖̆̾t̸̺͕̮͋̀̚ ̴̢͍̙͎̥̦͍̣̺͕̯͕̻̰̝͑͐́̓͠ẁ̵̡̢̛̫͎̦̠̦͔̮̪̹̽̆̄͐̎̈̚ͅh̴̹̪̫̼̀͛̇̊̾̽̎̿̌͆͒͘ă̷̊̀̿͂̕͜t̴̳̐ ̷̤̹̫̖̪͕̪̳͕̟̝̃̔̿͂͂̌͑͐ͅy̶̡̡͓̲̙̥̰̺̟͕͚̥̰̪̅̂̃̀̇̃̆ơ̴͕͍̱̾͑̉̽̇̈́̑͆̆͝͝u̴̮͉̩͕̺̳͍̞͈̰͋͐͒̋̇̍̄̔̈́̈́̓̌͒̓̕'̶̣̯̟̳̐̎̄̃͒̌͌̾̉v̶̡̡͎̱͈̖̣͎͍͚͍̤͚̤͊͌͑͂̑̏͒̃e̶͇̯̜̊̅͒̄͆̇̆͋͑͝ ̴̡̧̘̼̺̗̖̙̜͇͔̹̜̑͌͛̀̃̉̆̕͜d̷̰͖͚͚̟̜͔̝͖͇̪̞͘̚͝͝ͅǫ̴̳͕̖̞͉͓̦͍̹̪̩̂͐̔̓͘͜ͅņ̷͉̾͛̀̓̓̉̉̽̅̋̍̿̑͝͝é̸̩̼̤̈̄̆̉̉̍͆̃́͌͛.̵̪̟̩͗͛̐̉̇̀̋̄̏̊̇̎̕͠.̸̧̲̜̯̝̬̼̟̤̾̀̐̽͑̄͒͝.̷̛̛͈͙̗̙͙̖̖͙͙͈̞͉̺͍͌̃͐̄̽͘͜͝ ̸̥͈̺̬̭̹͎̦̱͚͔̏̌̓̋̌́̐́̃̕͝Y̷̛̝͎̟̮̙͆̉͛̽͛̓̈́͆̕ơ̶̮̓̊̄̀͝͝͝ư̵̠̲͈͙͇͈̅̃̍́̈́̓̍̿͑͘ ̸̱͇̣͖̯̬̟̓͛ḩ̶͍̭̤̟͓̻͓̈́̅͋̿̔̐͋̐͒ą̴̠͇̺͔̔̅̏̾̓͐v̸̛̤̹̼̖͕̯̳̲̬̞͜͝e̷̡̢̙̜̭̝̰͇̖̲̋̐͐͐̕ ̵̧͈̄͆͂̌̃̈́̄̎̌͊͒̚̕͠f̴̧͚̗̥̞͈̮͔̤̯͑͋̄̋̓̾͛̓̇͋̚ͅͅo̴̺̫͚̘̥̫͖̙̼̘̖̪̙̮̰͗̿̾r̸̨̡̨͚̼̖͚̜̠̱͍͕̣̰̙̈́̇̀̄̐̄͆̄́s̵̯̼͚̰̠̽̇̒͛̉̋̕å̴̟̗̃͠k̵̦͇̒̍̑̂͌̒̔̑͋̿̑͠ě̷̝͈̹̒̄͆͛́͊ͅn̵̡͔͓̻͎̺̯̩̙̪̗̈̄̈ ̶̢̧̧̡̰͉͇̺̬̤̥̤̫̋́͆̆̅̀̓͆̽̂̅̽͛͘ͅy̴͂̽̓ͅö̵̢̮͖̩͕͎̲̺̥̾͂͂̌͐͝ͅu̴͈̺̽̄͛̀̐́͐̕r̴̹͂̄ ̸̧̬̜̑̂k̸̡̧̡̗̠̦̠̗͕̯͖̫̓͐͐̌̇͂̾̂̒͆̏̽͘̕͜͜͜i̷̛̛̬̣̭̤̙̫̜̘͛͒̔̿̇̓̒́̋̌̉͘̚n̶̗̤̮̫̔.̴̨̛̜̏̑̽̐̅̈́̃͐̊̀̈́͑̈́͑.̴̲̩̄̽̔͒̀͠.̴͙̜̘͇͚̜͙̟͎͓͊̉͛̐̂͜͝ ̶͚̙͇̟͍̹̬͗̈́͒͋͂̏͘͜t̷̖̰͓̣̗͉́͂̋̈̚͘͝͝o̴͕͔̠͚̎͂̅̚ ̵̨̛̛͈̮̞̰̘̲͓͓̹̃̿̐͗̃̽̉̃̌̉͜͜͝a̴̖̹̰͓̜̹͐i̸͚͛̐̽̈͗̈́̈̽̌̄͆͜d̵͖̠͓̟̣̺̀͒̌̉̆̃͒̕͜͝͝.̶̢̢̛̛̜̭͉͉̥̺̯͊̍͐͋̏͐͂̉̿̋̓̎̕.̷̢̥̫͕̤͕̫͊̈̐͑̉̂͌̋̚ ̷̢̢̥̖̲͖͕̺̯̈́̅̓̀͌̃̎͛͘i̷̢̢͖̺͎̼͖͖̦̹̓̎̄̃͊̿̈́͌̚͝ǹ̴̢̺̼̬͙̣̙̫̠͇̥͍̟̌̑̌͂̑̀̄̈́̇̕̕ ̸̭̇̿̄́̋̀̈́̾͘t̸̯͔̦̓̉͝h̶̡͉͕̳̭͎̒̎̈̀͒̑̆̂̎̈́̚ě̴̢͍͕̉̌́̆̑͆͒ ̶̛̘͇͈̀̂̎͆̏̽̈w̴̼̳̗̏̌͂̀̊̏͌̉́͌̓̕̕̕͝ó̷͈̻̙͔̱̥̅̏̊̑̃̂͛̆̀͋̂́͋̈́ṙ̶̨̢͔̮̣̱̼̭̣̪͎̹̭̟̞̌́́̒̅͊͊͝͝k̵̼͂̇͂̓̓̎͠ş̶̨̛̭̳͉͙̱͍͓͕̻̼̩̓̿͋̅̔̾̐̔̈́͝ ̶̢̨̧͇̯̯̙̱̬͎̩̣͚̽̇͗́̓̋͛̀́̍̃̎̒̾̚͜ͅǫ̴͙̲͙̖͎͙̘̔͑̈́̀͊̿̀̅̚͝͠f̵͇̩̥̺͓̯̪̼̜̗̹̍͜ ̷̹͍̼͑̑t̸̠̫̞͍̫̘̖͇̍̇̾̄̓̃́̄̚̕͝ḩ̷̢̢̱̣̺̺̜̗̞̥̰̙̫͎͛͒͊e̸͙͐ͅ.̶̨̺̦̘̣̗̭̀̎̚ͅ.̶̧̭͖̪͓̝̒͐̐͒͗̌̌̽͋͐̾͛͑̒͝.̴͕̩̥̳̱̗̞̲̞̠̣̝̣̤͛̅͐́̌̈́̌́͜ ̵̡̛̹̳̥̪̠͇̠̳̥̟̹̂̑̽̎̈́̊̀͗͂̅͠s̷͚̞͖̙̜͖͕̥̰̼͎̑̇̊͠i̶̡͈̝̘͖̗̋̄͂̇͐̊̋̽̈́̇͘į̶̪̬̺̠̹̘͉̖̹͚́̿̐͐̈i̶̛͇̤͒̾̾̍͋͂͒̆̄ỉ̷̪̣̩̅͋̀̏̊̕̕͘͝͠i̸̛̥̹̝̥͇͓̫̪̽̈́̇̀̔͌̌̽̅̆̄̓î̴̧̮̲̣́̀̂̋͌ì̴̛̭̺̹̈́̃͑̋̿͛̽͑̒̍͝ẍ̵̨̛͉̥͚͇̩̠͙̗̲̘́̈͒x̶̢̨̠̤̙̻̙̭͔̻̙̺̳̲̽̓̓͊̊̿̈́̈̐̋̃͑͌͜x̷̼̮͍͍̠͎̥̜͚̰̽͒͐̇̄͠.̵̭̗̮̱͎̭̯̬̄̆̈́̾͒̄̽̍̏̔̿̈́̈́̓͝.̷̢̧͔̦͔̠̖̭̳͍̙͛͋̈́̏̍̌̿͠.̸̞͖͚͕̘̞̺̤͕͓̰͙̿̅̅"̷̧̙̠̰͉̭̱͎̪̄
Foritu ignored the former god's words, focusing solely on reaching the cathedral and putting a stop to Khantsievth's summoning.
"̴̢̣̠̖̘̞͕͙̀̑̾͘͠Į̸̧͉̱̠̤̲̞̱̅̏̍̆̈͗̓̿͆̍̌̽͜ ̴̡̛̪̓̇̾̀͋ḩ̴̻͇̟̬̺̿́̎̐͋̓̅̆́̕͜ȩ̴̧̩͚̠̰̰̩͖̩̮̖͓͔̈́ͅa̷̡̛̩̳͇̣̺̗͎͈͚͉̦̫̯̽̈͗̈́͊͑̓͝͝r̴̭͕̲̩͍̼̝̰͌̌̋́̏͐́͘͜.̴̱̞̮͍̬͊͆͂̾̀͒̌̆̈́̿̈́͐͜͠͠ͅ.̵̡̱͕̞͈̭͉̣̫̱͔̬̪̥̳͌͒̒͂͑͒͒̇̚.̸̡̛͖̭͚̗͔́̎̏̊̉͠ ̸͖͙̥̭͕̯̫̥̰̗́̃͂͂͂̃̎̐̅̈́è̸̡̖̪͙̋͂̋͘v̵̢̛̭͔̠̖́͒́̈́̓͑̑̇͘e̶̤̺̯̮͙̓̏͗̔̏͂͒̽̈́͋̀͑͝ŗ̵̜̬̗̌̆̈́̾̈̃̋̎̂̾͊̐̓͌̓ỹ̵̬̥̮͌̊̀̎̉̂̇͐͒̀͐t̶̫̜̼̠̩̉͒̂͒́̉̇̀̚h̵̥̬̯͂̀̇i̷̢̧̳̭͚̣̫͚̣͍͎̊̉̅͊̇̈n̸̬͓͂́̑́̈́̿̆̈́́͊͒̈́̕͜͝͝g̵͙̩̳͔͚̝̩̔͜͜.̶̢̻͕̟͉̹͇̟̉̽̌̆.̶̢̛̝͖͓̘̝̺͑͛̂̔̅̄̓.̷̐͜͝ ̸̡̝̫̤̻͇̆̍̿̇̓̊͋̕͝ṯ̴̎̏̅̽̔̍h̸̟͉̥͙͊̎a̴͇͈̲͛̇̈̂̔̃͝ţ̶̡̛̬̹̖̥̦̱̞̬̟̯̝̻̂̋͆́̒͛̈́̉͂̈́̃͊̈͌͜ ̸͙̜͈̗̙̍́̃̑͒s̵̼̻͔̹̤̥͙͐́͂͌̍̓̃͠u̶̢͔͇͔̭͈̦̝̙͓͍̹̳͒̇͑̎̌̆͌̓̾̕̚f̶̨̤͙̬͚͔͓̫̉̓̆̈̉̅̒͝f̶̳̣̞̭̋̓̇̆͊̊͆̈̓̓̈̓̇̚̕ę̶͚̬̫̹͔̩̘̹̯̥̀̌̈́̈́̄̓̑̚r̴̛̥̣̟͕̖̙̪̩͉͚̝̋̀̿̉̊̕͠s̶̡̨̢̹̮̻̖̗̝͎̰̽͋̆̑͑͗̄͐̊̃̈͝͝ ̶͖̝͕̮̚͝t̷̗̙̋͋͒̐̏͋̏̈́͠h̸̻̞̔i̸̢̨̗̠̗͇͔͋̔̋̀̃̒̀̒̚̚s̷͍̩̗̦̦̼̓̅̿̚ ̶̧̧̨͉͔̜̺̺̩͙̭̜̟͉͌͂͂p̸̖͌̆̈́̀̾̉ḷ̷̯͍̘͓̻̲̼̞͍͎͋̉̀̋͛ͅą̵͔̠̘̭̤̭̊̄́̄̈́͠͠n̵͙̰̗̒̀͂ě̴̛͕͇͍͕̜͓̣̥̤͙̟̈́̽̑̑͑̆͒́.̷̛̛̜̰̜͆̏͐̑̂̇̇͌̐̐̍̀͝.̷̨̜̱̬͙͔͔̓͑̆̍̉͋̍̐̔̒̎͘͝.̷̫̖̺͍̞͕̬̣̯̱͆ ̶̢͉̥͈̘̳̙̿̂̀̋̎͐̎̓̓̒̈́͑̔̕͜e̸̝̋̏͂͑͛́̅̐͛̕ͅv̵͎̰͈̬̜̼̗̺͛è̷̛̛̮͓͓̼̟̩̽̈́̽͐͊͆͐̉̚͜͠͝r̴͈̞̦̥͔̦̼̯̟̙̟̮̣̣͆̅̐̈́̂͜y̶̡̛͍̦͖̦͈͐͑͐̈̈́͋̃͑̑̑̌͒́̚ ̵̡̯̙̹̠͔̞̼̞͙͇͌̀́̈́́̉̋̈́̓̃i̶̧͍̱̺͚͍̹̖̿͑̊͂ñ̸̪̫̟̦̙̝̼̲͇͓̙̽̓̋̋̇̌̚͜͠ͅj̴͖̎̿͌͝ͅư̷̡̹̱͇̝͎̪̦͉̽̌͆̾̓̏͠ś̷̡̻̻̩̦͎̱̹͔̳͎̣̔͗̂͂͑͑̂̽͂͊̐͊̉̍͜ͅt̴͉͑͊͆̋̌̇̃̎̂̓͘ĩ̵̛̦̠̭̽̄͂͂̓̌̈́̏͒͗͐č̷̛̫̥̝̎̈̋̂́͆͌́̿͝ͅe̴̛̛̺̩͚̅̽̆̈́͛̂́̎͘͝͝.̵̼͚̪͎̯͔̞̲̍̅̀͂̑̉̑̓͗̎̉̽̊ͅͅ.̷̛̣͎͍͎͎̭̣͎̼͖͚̇̅̓̓̐̆̑̏͗̒ͅ.̷̧̺͉̰͎̜̙͕̣͍̦̯͆̽͊̃̽͒͌͂̈́̀̀͑͐͜͜͝ͅ ̵͚͕̮͓͍̝̽͒̈̈́͆̄ê̶͈͇̺͎̫̗̗̣̙̖̩̣̓ͅͅv̸̨̞͇͖͙͙̞̦̼̜͛̌̆͠ě̵̡̨̧͖̫̺̜̦̣̖͙̳̪̮̬̊͊̓̽̀͛́͛͑́̚̚͠ŗ̶̢̩̫̺̫͈̼̣̩̺̠͜͝y̵̨̡̛̥̰̯͙̭̺͚͓͈͎̼̮͑̅̊̄͝͠ ̵̨̨̨̛̭̤̻͔̘̘̼̥̗͔͚̓̓͒͋͌̇͐̆ş̷̨͕͖̻͓͈͔̯̤̔̈̌̂̓̑̅̒̄̔̕͝ä̶̡̜͙̣͍̽͌̀̄̀͒̆̈́́̄̏́͝͝c̵̖͍͎̰͋͆͆͛͐̂̄̑͌̕͠͝͝ȓ̶̟͊̉̀̉͛͋̏̓̽̈̉̐͘͝i̸̹͇͕̺̹͙̓̓̐̍͒͆͐́̕͘̚͘͜͜͠f̷̨̛͖̞͚̯͇͓̘̼̳̓̃́̉i̵͍̗̜̗͚̰̦͚͉͗c̶̢̢͈̘̗̺̰̮̲̬͆̐͌͛ͅe̷̡̛͎͋͋̋̓̆̄̍̈́̇͊̈́̚͠͠.̷̝͎̣̻̆̀̂͋͗̓.̴̨̡̙̘̜̥̲̤͊̅̈́̀̚.̵̛̱̜̝͇̩͓̬̎͒̽̎͑͐͊̅̆́̕͜ ̵̨͉͖̬̥̥̜̪̙̱̫̝̙͚͉̓̿̆͗͂̚ţ̶̛̛̬̗̮̬̣͙͙̗͕̮͊͗̊͊̾̒̎̎̽̒͠ͅh̸̡̛̘͙̺̫͈̳̼͎̤̜̺̐̏͐͑̃̔̊̌̾̌̆͝ę̸̟̠̍͂y̴͓̺̹̻͍̼͇̗̝̞͕̓̎̑ ̵̬̥̟͓͛͐̐͐̍́͌̃͝͝͠l̵̨̯̼͊̉̍͋̉͑̚͝e̸̢̼͓̳̮͍̦̣̻͚̞͍͐̈͛͛̊̍̂͐̋̓a̴̢̡̘̤͇͓͉̼̟̙̪͋͆̆͗͋̑͋̆̏̂̓v̵͇̚͜e̴͗̿̓̄̅̓̒́̊͒̏͌̑̐ͅ ̵̨͚͇̫̲͙͉͙̬̯̝͉̟͓̫́́͑̽̍̋̐̆́͋͝á̸̺̏̽̍̈́̊̿̚͝.̴̢̢̟̺͚͇̦̹͉̼̳͚̂͆̓̂̓̾͌̐̆ͅͅ.̶̧͍̙̯̯̲̪̘͉͕̳̦͙̙͊̓̍͑͂́͘͝.̸̧͇̠̫͎͕̩̳̖̞͙̩̋̀͋̈́̅̍̎̀̚͝ ̶̡̘̤̖̻͖͓̄̊̉̉̒̈́͛̊͐͆̄̚͝v̴̬̟̠̩̎͆̓͗̀̒̊̒̚͝o̵̳̥͚̬͇̝̎̀̎̄̽͑́̓̔̀͝͝i̶̢͙͎͍̣̣͖̪̩̙̗̤̱̜̐̀̉̽c̴͔͔̙̠̘̫̦̖̖̈́̋̈́̋̏ë̴͈̟͕͈͖͔̆͊̑̔͋̽̎̿̾̈̚͠͠.̵̢͇̗̩̫͓̳̍̆͂̀͛̅̍̈́̀̕͘͠.̸̧̲̼͎͚̥̦̌͋̃͂͒̈́̇͋̈̋̋̆̔͘.̶͚̑̋͝ ̵̧͈̜̱̙̪̏͊͂͂͊͐̀̍̆̎̚̕ͅo̶̡̗̖̫͎̼̳̫̠̘̫̳͕͇͐̿̇̌̌́̚n̶̻̝̰̄̒̍͆͒̅͐͂̀̏̋̽e̷̢̙͔̫̲̩͓͖͓̹̮͚̳̫̾͊ͅ ̴̧͚͉̩̃͆ţ̸̛̰̘̼̫̻̭̺̖͕̯̿̿̊͋͂͊̍̋̇̔h̴̻̹͙͖̩̗͛ͅa̷̩̝̪͍̖̹͔̤͙̚t̸̳͍̤̳͖͙͕̙͉͚̓͂ ̵̛̜͉̼̱͎̦̪͇͕̤̈́́͊̃̀̾͐͛͊͘̚d̷̤̜̞̙̑͆̒̅́ȅ̷͓͖͓̳̠̩̟͍͓̈́͑̎̈́͑̈͘ş̵̟̙͔͙͕͛̄͛̏̾͗͑́̂̋̑͘͘͠͝i̶͖͕̬̥̙̦͍̺̳̱̤̹̰̘̊r̵̩͗͑͌̀̅̔͑̕e̷̡̹̞̽̍͜͜s̵̝̫̫̠̖̝̖̽̈̊̈́̈̐̓̓̌̃ ̸̢̳̝͔͔̼̭͙̯͈̟͆̒͗͊͐̊͆͛̅͋̆̀̕t̷̙͚̲͙̙̼͉̜̗̝͑̓̇̓͠ͅǒ̷̡̟̞͇̠̮̠̼̗̻̦̺͌̈̏̒́̀̌͊̃̍̆ͅ ̷̛̘͖̗̟̝͚͉̥͇̲̄̒͊͗͝b̵̭̉̅̏̌̓̕è̵̛͙̅͑̅́̈́͗͝ ̴̺̰̻̘͈̣̘͍̗͚͕̄͐̽̋̈́͒̅̒̏̃͒̚h̸̳͔͈̹̯͓̲̹̖̹̞̮̝̦͚͂̈́̆́͂̒͛̍͘͝ě̷͇̭̯̘̥̩͔̦͔̠̀̂̏̃͊̍̑͝͝a̴̢̺̪͒̏̾͊̄͂̊̎͌͛́͘r̶̨͍͕̝͔̞̜̪͓̉͑͘̕͝ḑ̵̛̜͍̮̥̻̪̰͚̖̝̜̤̟́.̴͙̤̯̃́.̷͕̀̈́̿̾͂̈́̓͗́͂̏̆̈͝͝.̴̖̙͇̻̼̪̦̱̲̠͕̝̳́͐̿͒̀̿͜͜ ̶͚͍̗̹̬͍͕̤̼̅̀̇́͋̿̊̓̕͝t̴̛͍͈̓͊̒̌̓̈́̉́͐̚͝ó̶̡͙̙̦̦̹̣̰͐̈́̌̎̿̾͌͘͝ ̴̨̰͕̱̼͍̾̾̂ͅb̷͈̤̼̊̾̈́̾̏̏̓̆̀̎̍̊͘͠e̴̘̖͎͗͠͝ ̵̠̘͔̬̓͆̈́̉̏͜ͅẖ̸̪̂̀͗̾͐̕̚ȅ̴̜̝̯̝̭̺̮̙̰̂͛͋̄̚͠ͅļ̴̰͉̜̰͙̫͓͉̱̬̘̤̀̏̀̋̓̈́̍̽̈̇̆͋p̶̢̢̭̠̝̙̟̣͓͕̣͐̂̒́̒̀̐̐͂̏̓͘e̷̢̗̤̺̪̿͗͌͐̂͆̈́͘d̷͉̖̈́̔͒̄̐̒͠.̷̧̝͈̗̯̫̳̺̪̱̤̅̓.̷̛̹̬̓͊̈́̓̎̒̅̑̽̀̈́̂́.̸̰̊̄̔́̂̓̔ ̶̧̫͎̩̥̦̙̫̫̏͐̑̑͐͆͝y̶̼̻̥̩̝̮͖̘̾̆̆̐̓̒͊̌̉̇̂̽̕ͅe̴̛̹̎̉̈̀͊̊̀̕̕͝t̸̨̯̥̼̺̜̱̀͒̈́̾̐͂͒́̏͋͜ ̸̡̡̛̰̫̄̓͑̓̋̄͐̈́̓̐ỷ̵̮̦̼̣̟͜͝ơ̵̩͆͛̓͊̽̏͆͂͌̍͠ų̴͙̣̞͙̪͚͈̫̤͖̱̾̆̅̌̇̾́͝͝ ̷̧̛̠͙̹̝̯̭̮̠̇͐̏̈͂͜d̵̨̜͚̖͔̦̱̽̑́̊̽͆̐͆̾̆͊͠͝o̶̢͚͙̜͒̈̓̉̽ ̸̨̢̛̰͓̬̬̠̹͓̖͔̏̿͂̾̈́͘͘͝͠͠n̵̛̯͓͗̑ǫ̴̧̨̢̩͎̜͍̩̠͔͔̰̆͜ț̷͖̥́̔́̿̀ ̵̰̐̃̎̈̈́͗c̶̡̢̠̤͚̩͖̳͍̻̭͐̌̃̎̐̌͌̉̏̕͝a̷͉̞̳̓͊̆͘ṙ̸̢̭̩͓̺̪͓̜͙͕͗̌̒̄́̄̍̑͘e̵̡̛̖̟͓̯͎͉̹̙͙̬̪̋̈́͝.̶͚͕̞̙͍̲͉͝.̶̧̧̘̳̰̪̹̣͍͓̤̰̳̮̇̈́̋̕.̴̧̛̛̭̻̠̣̦͍̹̭̌̅̓͆̎͑̏̀̌́̕͝͝ ̵̫̘̫̲̼͙̊̆͂̂̂̇̿͘ȳ̶̺̏͐͘o̷̧̦̱̥͙͉͉̻̲͙̜̟̙̹̔́͂̋̔͝ŭ̸̯͔̥͎͓̜̟̩̻͎͚̝͊̓͐͆͜͠͝͝ ̶̨̯̹͎͕̹̮̇̎̽͆͂̇̀f̴̜̲̲̳̟̼̠̼͎͌́̇̽̌̋̏̂͛͘͘o̷͔͔̝̅̀͘ŗ̸̨̨̡̡͔̲͓̙̦̭̯̟̗͂́͋̀̀͐̈͑̀͘͝g̵̨̥̲͉̟̀̏̅͆̏͊ê̶̢̛͓̹̘̳͔̳̥̙̣̩͖̈̍͆̋̌̓͐͆̓̓͝ͅţ̸̟̩̱͉͕͈̪͉͈͚̺͝ͅ.̴̢͔̰̜͎̬̞͇͖̩̲̐͌̚͜͝.̷̧̳͇͇̪̳͇͇̖̽͒̈̾̾̚̕͘.̷̖̓͒ ̴̨̧͓̼̫̥̲̳̻͈̪͂̄͗͆̉͌̅̃̚͜͠ͅa̶̟͍͔͒̂͐̌̄̎̕s̵̺̹͚̙͎̗̲̼̀̈́̾̚ͅͅ ̶̢̧̖̳̼̮̩̺̙̩̜̙̬̎̊͝͝͝͝t̴̢̯̙̘͈͔̤̮͂̑̈́̄͋̓͛̕ͅẖ̴͈̩̝̹̤͖̗͉̇̀͆̂͋̿̍̊̃͒̔̋̕̚ễ̴̛̛̪̲̥͈̣̾̒̎͑̐̈́͛͆̎i̶̬̳̯̯͂̔͋̈͌̈́̊͘͘̕͠͠r̸͉̩̽͊͊͒̇̋͑̐̇̿̓͝͝ ̶̧͓͉̓̉̈͐̎̆̋̄̆͑͝͠d̶̢̨̢̛̩̯̬̰͈͉͎̖̀̾͂̇͝e̶̬̺̽̀͗̃̋̀͌͘͝ą̶͙̹̯̻̮͚̫̻̻͈̞͖͋̀͒̏̒̐̆͘͘͘͜͝ţ̶̼̻͓͎͓̱͍̤̻̔h̸̝̖̣͖͍̲͕͒̇͑́̑̚͜ŝ̵̢̘̲̬͎͉̮̰̫͓̳͉̜͖͚̿͋̓̈́̏͘ ̸̧̢͖̞̮͉̈́̑̃̽̂̇̄̈́̈̏̕s̶̞͈̙͇̥͙͓̼̺̝̆̒͑̈́̓̎̉̆͆̿̓͗̀͊̚e̶͉̺̦͓̾͐̆͗̑͗͛̿͝r̵̡̧̨̤̱̼̥͈̹̣̜̠̿̐̎̀͒͆͒ͅv̸͓͖̬͔̮̱͙̩͝ę̵̳̬̼̦̯̟̳̬̲͚͔͈̜̣͗̅̏ ̶̝̯̖̱̒̐̿̐̀̓̒̎̔͘͜t̸̞̦̐̈̈́̏̇̿͂͂͂̆̾͋͂͘͝o̷̢̢̜̮̙̳͙̭̜͍͐̎̓̿̆͐̿̍̒̃̇̍͂ ̷̜͓̗̠̰͆f̴̢̱̮̗̪͔͓̪͍̱́́͛̓̅́͑̇̚̕͝͝ǘ̶̢̢̝̬͔̳̈͂̅͐̊̑̔́̋ę̸̨̧̜̳͕̠̣̱̹̣̬̭͐̓̉̏̈́̍̊̈͌͊͝͝l̷̮͚͇͕̓̑͆̒ ̴̧̛̪̰̠̹̘͓̤̲̖̥̰̉̑͒̽̀̍̃̓̽͝t̷̪̳̎͐̔̃̽͊̆̅̎̇h̷̬͖̟̙͖̰̤͖͍̏̐͠ė̸̡͎̩̯̜̺̜̪́̄͋̏̀̈́̔̒̌͌̽́̕̚.̷̧͙̪̣̪̤̗̭͚̥̈́̉̿̔͆͆̒̓͋̒͝͝͠.̸̪̤̘̭͎̺͖̹̭͋̎̑͋̈́̇̅̄̀̈̒̐̀͝.̸͙̤̻͕͎͕̈́̃͌͑̾̄͆̓͝ ̴̨̨͔̦̤͆͊͐̀͛͂͝p̷̧̨̨̞͎̳̤̯̱̣̙̍͘à̷̡̡͇̟͈̹̣̲̰͕͇̖̇̄̉̊̓̈͂͒̇͆͋̍͌͝ͅr̵͚̂͆̄͠͠a̵̡̧̛̯̤̳̠̫̙̯̫̯̳͊̔̈́̄̓̂̀̍͋͜ş̸̙͚̦̈́̐̄͊͌̾̀̊̀̊̚̕͘i̴͈̘̻͚͍̫͚̬͕̜̜̗̍́̓̑͛̋͒̽ͅṯ̸̹͂̈́̀̀̉̊̃̕͜e̴͎̦̟̞̣̦̙̼̤̻̔̒͗̍̈͊́̒͘̕͜ͅs̴̛͓̺̟̙̑͗̽̓͝.̴͕͔̥̂̅̐̆͒͑͜͠.̶̥̫͔̜̗̺̪̬͈̞͗͋̽̎̀̔́̈̆̚̕̚͝ͅ.̵̳̃͗̔ ̵͓̺͈̆́̀̆͗̇͌̈́̌ţ̴̧͔̖̳͓̱͍̭̭̒̈́̀ͅḩ̵̛̠̣̣͇͚̲͒͌͂̈́̽̌̾̾͠ͅą̶̨͉̘͚̈̈́̅̈́̿́̌̕͜͝t̶̡̲̍̆͒̏̉̅̌̒̈́̇̎͊ͅ ̷̡̧̛̥̹̥͚̼̮̺̱̘̗̹̪̃́̇̅̿ͅī̸̛̤̥̏̅́̾̊̊̉͑̔̿́̽s̷̡̡͚̻͙̫̃͗͠.̵̯͉̖̗͓̩͙̬͓̳͎͎͙͛̐̒̎̒̑̚̚͠.̴̥̞̩̱͕̰͎̋̐̾̂͛͒͝.̶̘̣̆̈̃̀̉̏͊͐̀̕͘͝ ̶͕͙̓̾͌͆͂̀̅͑́̏̃̎͠͝͠ţ̴̳͈̜̣̭̞̝̝̽͒̽̈́̊ḩ̵̪̹͙͇͍̬̹̻̟͙̅̈́̓̅̌̽̓̊̆̀̀̉̄̒ȩ̵͚͕̲̩̭͓̝̏̄́̈̑̓͒́̌͘̚ ̶̲̙̥̥̦͓̳̅̿͋̏s̴̢̧̺͈͖̩͈̦̮̥͈̭̳̪̣͂̌̑͆̓́ḯ̸̛̙̰̳̠̺̬̩͕̹͌́̀̃̾͐̃͑̊̅͝͝͠x̶̢̦͎̙̱̲̰͇̳̼́̕.̵̢̤̩͇̹̀̉͋͗.̴͙̤̟͍̘̞͕̖̫̥̖̤̻̟̑ͅ.̴̢̰̝̻̋̊̽̉͋́͊̈́̈͘"̴̳̺̩͖̟͕͚̻͓̟̻͑̈́̄̇̏͐͘͘
"̵̢̩̣̝̫̗̗̫̐̎̏̍͐̊̓̉̀̒̽͒̀ͅĮ̷͍̲̱̪̪̮̰̟̼̺͈̱̥̀͜.̴̨̢̧͎̮̯̬͓̳̳͇͎͍̰̓̽̎̇̈́͛̋̽̇̂̓͌͠.̶̡͔̝̭̖̘̲̲̈́͒͂̈́̉͑̓͒̀̈̋̽͜͜͜͜͝.̵̨̖̫̣͓͇͔̥̭̀̕ ̵̠̱͖̩͕̐̓̔̀̈́̀̓́̉̐̕͝ḑ̷̗͔̣̝̰̻͚̹̥͕͉̿͒̎̌̀͊̊̆́̇͠o̷̡̧̺̳̥̲͙̰̘̘̱̦̭͊̕̕͜ͅ ̸̬̩̳̦͕̺̏̓͋̂̉͋̓̀͊ͅn̶̢̯̙̳͖̉̾̏̎̈́̓o̷̢̨̖͇͍͈̝̺̘̘̺̮̍̾́̽̇̀́̔̅͛̕̕͝t̷̨͕̩͈̞͌̈̌̄̅́̈̏͒́̚͜͠͝ ̸̰̯̐̉̆̅̊̌͂̐̿͛̀̒͆̂f̶̦͚̜̐̉̑͑̃̓̌͠ó̶̢̮̹͎̗̆̔̓͠r̸͔̲̱̣̼̹̩̱̽́̄̎͒̽̾̆ḡ̸̨̡̢̨̻̣̟̞͍̯͓̪͕͈͓̎̈̑͝e̶̘͓̯̤̪̤̣̐̇̿̀͋̏̉͗̔̐̚͜͝ͅt̶̡̖̰̫͈͐͒̒̈́̊̉͂̆̈́͐̉̂̏.̸̡̢̛̜̩̩͖̗̥͇͇̭̳̔̊͐̑ͅ.̷̧̜̘̳̖̔̿͗̂̃͜.̵̢̭̤̜̽͌̈́͑̕͝͠ ̶̼̖͒̆̌̋͂́͘̕͠ͅĮ̸͇̙̖̈́͜ ̵̲͎̜̘̃̔̎͌́͐͆̓ȓ̷̥͓̩̝̿̽͠ẽ̸̢͓̠̍̓͊̋́͒͆̌͝͝m̷̢͚͚͎͕͕̙͓͍̼͓̹̥͚͈̿̏̂͝ë̶͇̟̮̜̥̤̣́̂̄̏̇͜m̷̯̺͖̹͝b̴̮͔̠̟̞͙̹̊̓̈́̍ͅė̵̡̞̲͉̬ͅr̶͉̤̭͍͍̬̟͔̀̂̏̽̀́̍͐̇͋͗͜͝ ̴̨̡̜̭̥̖̫̲̮͔̣̪͔̃̉͐͂̍̓̈́͌͘ͅͅe̶̢͚͖̙̬͕̖͉̩̤͙̦̳̖̍̀̓̂̀̄͆̈́̐̏̀̊͝v̵̭̱͖̱̮̹̤̓̓̏̇͌̄̑̐̅͜ë̷̠͖̗̜͉́r̴̨͚̹̮̓͛y̵̨̛͔͙̟̯̔̈͌̔̿̊̋͗̒̓͒̿.̴̠̱̰͉͓̣̣̍̀̿̇̎̂͝.̴̤͔̣̲̝͕̯͔͈̺͍̓͊͆̈͌͗̐̀͂̚̚̕̚͘͝ͅ.̵̨̨̤̠͍͔̯̰͎̲̄̑̈́̓̌̋͠ ̴͙̬̟̦͇͍͍̾̅̑̆͑͝͝͠ą̵͚͈̯̱͉̤̣̭̈́͊͋͛͗̚ͅţ̸̺͓͉̹̞̥̞̦͂̌͌̽͊̈́̓͐̒̀̂̇͜r̵̙̻̙͍̤̰͕̟͖̦̍̆̏ǫ̷̘̮̟̘͓̥̫̮̈́̊͌̀̓͐̈́̒̌̐̕͜c̸̡̡̯̪̠͍̖̺͙̗͗͌̄̇i̵̠̼͐́́̏̊̔̚ţ̸̥̣̟̺͎̇͑̋̈́́̐̓̈́̈̀̅̊ŷ̴̥̯̰͍̤̆̑̆͌̋̎͗̐̚͝.̵̡̯͎̳̩̭̦͓̖̺̤͍́̓̇̔͑́̚͜͝.̶̡͍͈̣̺͑͋̕.̴̡̻̃͑̈̾̐͒̈́͊͒̓̂̇̚͝ ̷̢̡̭̠͓̣̫͇̼̖̼̏͒̂͒̇͋̅͘̕͠͠ý̸̨̡̛̮̣̣͎̹̲͚́̎̇͝͝͠ͅo̴̥̖̭̯̟̳̰͎̩̰͓̻̿͜͝u̷͙̫̟͖͍̣͐̒͗r̴̦͋̈́͝ ̴̡̱̲͙̭̰̘̮̹͇̂̌̒̿̐̒̏̊̕ḡ̷̨̠̳̟̫̟̤̜̃͑̑̐͑͐́̊̂̌͝͝ơ̵̤̙̳̙̳̥̳̦͉̘̤̊͋̓̀d̶̞̮̤̖̱̦̻̳̀͗̉̈́̔́̈́̎̀͋̌̿̕̚s̵̨̢͔͙̗̟̯̥̠̾ ̸̡̧͖͓̖̩̼̠̝̻̘̀̀͒̉̈́̿̔̂̾̔̍͘͘̕͠ͅȟ̴̢̩͙̦̟̠̽̈́̉̽̔̓̀̀̅̌̾̅a̷̧̛̻̐̽̈́̊̏͌̋͊v̸̢̡̨̻̻̜̩̯͙̻̺̾͂̆̌͂̄̇̿̀͐̿̾͜͝͠ȩ̵̗͔͇̞̙͓̝̅͜ ̵͙̭͔͈̘͖̮̗̀̎ȋ̴͎͊͘ṉ̷̦̠͕̯̳͉̌̉̍͐̓̍̉̀̈́̉̾̚̚͘͝f̴̟̗͙͙̘̘̭̩͍̫̤̎́̄͆͛̽̉̓͂͌̃́̊̕ͅl̷̛̙̑͊̀̈̋̚i̵̛̩͓̳̒̂̂́͘c̵̨̛̪̻̳͓̱̯͒͆̀͌͋́͌t̸͇͉͖̠̄͂͂͊́͗́͐͠e̴̡̟̺̬̝̳̭̩̪̬̖͉̰͂̔͐͛̈́̎̅d̶̛͓̠̬̉̂͂͂͒̈͆̄̚͠ͅ.̶̡̛̝̠͈̙̹̠̺͙͖͚̣̍͒̅̑͗͜.̶̢̼̟̖̦͓̱͍̫̞͚̈́́͑̈́̌͂́̀̕.̴̧̤̫̖̺̰͛̎̍̆͋ ̷̡͙̈́̇͗̂́̒̅͋͛̒̋̕u̵̩̥͎̪̫̾͛͂̚͘p̷̞͊̑͋̊̈́̕ö̷̡̼̝̹̱͐͋̈́̽́̈́̓̊̿̄͂͘ͅñ̶̖̩̳̯̼̖̜̹̯͚̬̙̀͘ ̸̛̥̫̖̮̱̟̖͙̖̖͊̓͆̆̋̍̚͜͜t̸̡̡̪̘̱̻͕̠̝͎̦̄̆̈́̅̉h̵̛͖̣̀̀̑̇̍̆͐ị̸̥̤̭͇̹͓̟̼̞̺͆ŝ̵͉̟͇̎̔̽͗̑̈́ ̶̛͈͎̤̣̠̻͉̘̥̝̎̽̈́̏̃̽͌̉͒̽͜͠p̶̨̻̖̳͇̠̗̉̇̏̔̃̕͜͝͠͠ͅl̶̟̱̠̯͉̠̩̰̫̣̘̊̌̄͊̾̄̅̓͐̎ͅa̶̪̫̦̠͖̳̜̜̾̿̇̾̅́̈́n̶̡̨̘̙͎̥͈̺̭̹̓̈́̂̓͐̄̀͒͆͐̽̎͜͝͠͠ͅḛ̸͍̊͒͝.̵̟̯̥͒̃͂͊.̸͙͔̘̘̄͊̄̄.̵͍̣͎͙̪͙̦͊̑̂͘ ̸͓͋̌T̶̢̢̮͈̩͍̦̺̯̲͈̦͋̉͑̎̑̎̄̉͝o̵̧̲̪̭͌͗̂̍̂̅́͝͠ͅ ̸̩̿̋̈̿͘ḃ̵̢̧̻̰̘̞̮̯̠̹̱̠͚͖͜o̴̡̧̨̭͈̜̙͉̟̝̬̞͇̤͖̐̀̿̏̀͗̑͒̒̕͘t̵̡̢̛̻̭͙̼̬͔̪̗͚̾͂̈͗̑̄̂͠ḣ̵̨̡̖̦̺̠̤̤̝̜́̓̀̕͜͠ ̸̨̧̰̫̱̭̪̻̭̖͇̱͉̬͋͆͗̋̾̌̃̃̏͒̓͌̈́̓m̷̯͓̿̌͋̈͘͘͠ǫ̸̗͍͕̘̫̮̠̥̳̯̥͔̣̅̔̎̓̌́̓̍r̴̛̛͎̬̭̤͖̜̖̹̮̠̞̤̐̉̅̓̓͗͋̄̈́͗̈̚͝ṱ̵̝͙͕͒̆͋͋̄̔̔ǎ̶̡͖̟̆̆̽͊̓͒̍̏̊̾̾̀͜͝͠ͅľ̷̳͗͛͂̂̉̅͝͠s̷̩̠͓̹̥̖̥̐̓͑̃̍͊̃̆̄̅͐̈́̊͋͊͜.̵̜͖̘̦̝̄̎̃̾̂̈́̀͘̕͝ͅ.̴̨̝̘̌̈́̂̕.̶̟̤͎̳̣̪͎͇͇̖̝̩̯͈̂̐͆̓́͠ ̵͖̝̙̱̘͔̤̪̤̻̳͈͉̌̍̈́̀̂̀͌̉͜͜͝a̷̱̺̜̼̗̲̼͔͎̹̠̥̜̽͋̃̊ņ̶͎̖̖̗̣͎͉̮͍̲̬̈̀̀̾̔̆͘̚d̸̨͉̝̱̤̦͌ ̵̧̼̱̮̱͕̪͗̔̇̏̄̎̕W̸̨̲̙̭̖̖̼̤͓̤̜͋̆̎̒̍̓̀̅͊ͅŏ̵̢̂̐̈́̕͠͝͠r̷̥͍̣̒̏̓̆̏̓̚ļ̴̣̠̦̖̭̟̄̾d̸̡̡͙͓̐́͗̾̿͑̊́̈́̍̚̚ͅs̴͓͙͕̘͒̐͐͊͝o̴̢̱͚͙̜͕͇̪̰̽̎͜͜ͅu̵̢͇͋͆̄̀̍̀̉̐͊̃͊̕͜l̸̡̢̻̰̠̯͇̲͖͆̃̊̃͝.̸̤̳̬̘͆͑̒̈́͂̉̅͌̆̾͂̚͠͝͝.̷̢̘̥̮̖̦͎̞̰̮̥̹̫̓ͅ.̷̜̻̎̎̍̕͝ ̴̟̉̒ȁ̷̧̛̝̈́́͊̅̊̐͑̐̕͝l̷̛̥͉͙̖͍͈̓̄̉̈̒͘ȋ̶̦̠̳̮̙̱̇̆̅̂̂̎ͅk̷̟͕͓̃́̾͐͛̈́̐̚ę̴̛̬̞̣̍̑͆.̸̛̛̙̥͕̽̎͛͑̾͆̌̉̾́̋̕͝.̶̧̡̫͖̩̣̳͕̦̬̜͇͑̔́̎̃̃̓̈́̆̚̕͠ͅ.̵̼͉̦͍̰͍̭̜͍̠͎̬͌̾̚"̷̛̺̥̰̃̈́̇̒̀̏̽̈̿̚
“If Khantsievth’s summoning is not stopped, he will be the doom for us all!” Foritu exclaimed, his ghostly voice echoing through the air.
"̷̨̝̬͖̯̥̂̄̈̏̽̄̒͂̕͘͝T̶̢̗͇̼̙̠̗̘̥͂̂̇̒͊̈́̚͜o̴̠̞̣̞͚̗̝̦̞̻̝̭̯̐̆̐̍̈́͒͜ͅ ̸̥̈̊̉̊̋͑̓̈̋͒͘̕͜d̷̪̭̫͕̳̺̲͚͐̉̄̒͐̍̑͗ȅ̸̡̢̙̼͓͎̖͎͛̈ļ̶̳̞̞͎̬͇̖̈͆̊͊͘ͅą̷̡̜̖̗̗̯̤͎̪̮̊̽̄̇͋̍̄̿̐̈͘y̶̧̠̯͎̙̘͙̗̗̤̬͈̬͍͂̈́͊̔́́͂́̄̽͂͠.̷̨̨̣̠̳͓̤̜̦̠̰̝̟̄͆̿̋̏́̀̕͠͠ͅ.̴̡̦̹͎͕̩̠̤̣̜͍̗̍̋͝ͅ.̸̤̥̣͚͎͎͔͔̫̙̮̹̅̑̆̅̿̔̃̄̈͠͠ ̷͈͔̠͍͚͚̝̞͉͚͒̏́K̶̛̝͎͙̉͊̈́̋̿̑͝h̶̞͖̫̬̰̼̝̜̼̪͉̦̗̏̑̆̈́̈́̏͋̆́̌͗͆̅͠à̸̘̤͓̂͐̃͌̄̌̐̑̕ǹ̸̨̨̲̼̤̞͕̼̣̪̬̠̗̤̅̐̓̀̾͆̂̊t̶̨͎͔́͘͝͝s̵̛͖̜̝̖͂̋̋͠͠í̸̱̗̭̻̗͇̖̞̪̔̎͌̂̊͂͘͝ę̵̨̥͚̩́͊̏́̈̍v̴̳̦̥͔̬̣̹̗̈́t̴̨̧͇͕͔̟͉̬̫̼͌̽̚͜͠͝h̸̛͚̝̩͔̻̅̍̔̋̀̋̚'̴̛͉̥̝s̸̢̺̬̦͎͓͔͔̐͒̌͛̔͗̄̆͗͋̄̇́͌͜͝.̴̢̱̙̦̗̥̬̰̠̘̈́͗̂̈́̌̕͜͝.̵̬̰̰̭̬̣̜̰͎̳̓̋̽̀̄͒̔̋̎̏́͂̑̅̕͜ͅ.̵̺̣̹̠͓̅̄̆͆̎͆̔̈́̏̄̈͝͠͝ ̶̛͙͔̟͕͇̭̀̆̔̾̄̓͋͊ṙ̶̛͕͙̺̣̑͑̂̀͊̓̾̃͆̚͝͠e̴̛̛͇̣̘̳̯̹̩͚͌̇̄͌̔͊̑͊́̚t̶̨̟͈̞̳̥̥͈̘̞̺͓̬͗́̂͋͛̀̆͜ų̴̧̜̬͈͍̘̳͖̪̘̆̋͊̅̾̈́̿͌̈́́̈́͝͠r̵̩̔͑̔͑͋̃̉̒̿̕͘͝ͅn̴̦͐̈̊̄͆̋̀̀̄̿̈́ͅ.̷̨̢͖͔̻̥̹̣͓̺̰̙͋̈́̄̿͋̒͜.̸̨̦̪̲̯̹̩͙̇͋̑̚.̷̛͚̘͙͚̓̏͒̃͂̂̚̚ ̷̢̛͔̼͓͉̱̳̾̑̀̓̏́̄͘į̶̟̯͓͗s̸̨̬͎͔̝̬̩͚̦̮̏̆̒͛̉̈͑͘ ̶̺͔̜̖̝̥̘̳̮̱̤̳̏̃̀̐̉̍͘ẗ̵̢̖͚͈̻̱̰̪̻͔̺̜͎͓̰́͆̇̆̅̿̍͆͋̋́͋͘o̴̙̜͌̀̉̈́̈́̉́̉̀͛̈́̓̊̂ ̷̡̪͚̤̲̳̮̖̪̣̖̠̟͆̔̊͜d̷̥̜͈̲̘͈̐́e̴̢̪̺̪̦͔̰͇͚̭̤̋͂̈̓̊͌̀̓̀̓͘͘͜l̴̗͇̝̘̋̓̈́͑͒a̸̧̡̮̹̰̳̺̠̥̹̮̥͛͜y̷̝̙̌̐̉̌̎͊̕͘͠.̸͔̺̯̈́.̷̢͎̜̾͊̑̃̈́͌́͆̓̈́̒.̶̨͈̣̺̀̋̌͂̒̕̚͜ ̶̟̦̟̇t̴̼̘̱̝̠̼̩̄̀h̷̛̦̣̤̗̔̉͒̒́͌̈́̍̈́́̕ȅ̴̛̹̱͙̫͔͕̞̯͈͍͕͒̀̆̎̈́́͑̓̊̍͌̕͠ ̷̺̪̣̠̥̞̺̑̒̊̍͗̽̈͒̀͐͌̈́͠ͅͅi̷̢̛̦̬̫͍̇̈́̓̓̂ṉ̶̖̼͈̞̭̹͔́̍́̈́̊́̿͂̈́́͜͠ͅé̴̛͇̼͓̦͙̳͉͙͕͚̱̰ͅv̶̘̹͔͈̒̀̐̿͒͝ͅi̷͍̙͕̥̟͇̗̽t̵̨̧̛̛̮͔̘͚̦̻̤̪̪͙̫̒̽̀̅̈́̏̌̀̌̚ͅȃ̵̪͕͈̯̽́̅̄̈́̚͜b̷͍̠̬̟̯͇̳͓̫̤̰͇͎̏̀̑̀͐͐ḽ̴̥̳͎̝͍̦̬͇͈̰̠̲̍̐͛̎͆̉̏͑̒̌̌̚̚͘͜͝ͅe̶̥̰̿͌͊̎͋̏̑̄̐̓̏̇.̵̨̧̜̮̦̻̼̮̙͕͙͕̟̀͂͗̉̿̏̽͑̀̓̄͐͜͝͝ͅ.̸̛̛͕͙̝̫̠̮̲̳̯̦̰̻̱́̈͑͒͋͝͝͝.̸͎̌̇̈́̌̇̆̎̓̄ ̸̢̦̃̈́́͌F̷̙̮̹̓̽͐͊ó̷̝͍̤͍̳͕͕̣̗̞͓̖̮͓̓̓̀͜r̵͉̯̯̘̃́̕͘͝ ̴̨̻͙̪̻͙͙̖͑͘̚͜͝ͅt̴͔̽͐̆h̶̢̛̥͍͖͍̫̥͓͈̞̺̥́́͛̎͒̒̾̎͐̎̔̀̂̓i̵͙͇̼̠͖̹̙̳͖̥̱̺̲͐̑͋̅͝s̷̘̮̟͕̗̻͍͖̫͓͚͚̻͊ͅ ̵̢̥̺̳̝̥̰̘̖̞̟̞̅̌̽͜p̵̡̢̠͚̱̘̝̝͎͚͇̪̬̹̲̆l̴̨̹͉͈̦͙̼̏̈̌́̄̈́ä̶̢̬͈̲̘̔ͅn̵̢̨̧͔̞̭͍͙̱̰͚̎̅e̴̞͚̲̪͖͕͔͒̿̅͗̌̎̄̿͜͝͝.̶̣͍̑̿̊̔̊͝.̷̡͔̠͖̞͆̒.̷̰̬̹̝͎͉̳̙̩̾̋͛̿ ̵̱̆̆̏̔̃̔ţ̸̢͖̻̪̖̱̂̒͋̾̏͋̄̚ͅǫ̵̢͍̝͚̥͍̫̤̞͈͙̂͊̋̅̎͒͛͗̊͒͘͘͜͝͝ ̶̧̛̫̼͈̹͚̠̥͙͈̪͇̟̽̍́̾̿̈̀͆̍̑̓̆͜ţ̴̛̮̦̅̆͗̔͑̐̏̽̓̔͘͝ȓ̴̹͈̬̞̙̘̯̭̱͎̲͈͔͌̂̽̈́̅̍́̕ų̷̢̡͔̟͕̻̼̖̰͍̀̂̏̊̿͂͐͋̎̀͛͘͝ͅl̵̲͉̰̝̋̆̈́͗ỹ̶͓̙͈̠͎͖̪̫̭̮̮̲̪͆̆̎̆̏̆̈́̀͜͝ ̷̟̤̀̊̇̑͐̾̉͊̈́́̕͝ͅb̶̢̨̡̳͙͍͚̱̦̜͎̗̣̔̈́͛̏̑̐͆̀̇͂͂̚̚̕e̶̥̰͖̲͛͋̅̎̿̒͐̄̄̀͠ ̸̢̲̯̮̠̖̩̼̘̣̘̰͖̒̎̈͊͊͑͌̊̚͘̕ş̷͔̬̦̗̙̳́̀̎̂͜ͅá̶͖̩̼̌͊́̚̕v̴̧̟͙̹̻̺͚̹̮͖̭̑͗͌̓̅̄͑̎ę̸̞̲̠̣̹͈̻̣̣͑̍̽͘d̵̪̬͔͉̳̪̱̟̩̏̈́̐͌͊̃͑̿̾̑̈.̸̢̢̜̠̱̝͚̫̫̭̩͖͛̽͊͌̌̿͌͛̾̊̔̓͑͘͝.̴̢̖͚̣̜̹̗͚̹̟̃̎̓̄̈́͝.̶̭̻͈̈́̆͌̄͆́̃̇͋̔́̎͂͘̕ ̵̢̨̤͕̲͉̔͐͋̈́͆̊͑͆͐̀̔̀̈́̑̋b̸̢̫͖͓̱͙̻͓̜̻͔͖̬͖͌͌̋͛͘̚ọ̶̢̧̤͍̬̋́̀̐̀̊͂̈́̒͠͝͠͝ͅt̶̨̢̮̰͓̭͕͔̩͇̦̻̽͑̂̓̓̿̓̆̐̊̉̈́͋̎͝ͅh̷̨̢̗̞̪͙̪̮̻̳̦͍̺̣͊͐̉ͅ ̵̨͕͍̬̳̱̑͑̀͐̾̑̾̕ǧ̸̨̟̫͉̱̹̖͚̿͗̂̒͗͘͝ơ̴̧̥͚̝̲̥̻̿̀̌̌͛͒̄̈́̇̒̈͌̕̕ḏ̴̥̯̝̮̮͔̱̫̺͚̈́͂̌͜ͅ.̵̲̞̪̱͈͕̲̘̘͕̝͌̇̍̒͗̓̈.̵̨̭͉̺̖̖̮̥̫̬̤̤͕͈̥̄̿̌̃.̴̫̠̥͊́̃̑́͛̽̈͑̏̉̃͝ ̶̡̨̛͈̣̬̹̘̳͍͓̗̣̈̋͐͋̈́̅͘͜͜á̸̡̛̛̼͎͇͍̺̲͉̮͍͂̃͛́́̔̿͌́ͅñ̷̢̻̥̹͎̻͇̗̠̲̩͕͕̱̮̑̇͗̓̽͛̑͑̚͝d̵̡̛̘̳͚̦̰͉͉̥̻̖͕͉̩̆̓̒͛̋̽́̍̊̏̈́͆͝ ̴̼̮͙͔̩̦̲̤̐̓̌͛͌̒͊͂͘d̷̡̨̪̜̟̘͔͉̭͓̳̘̭͌̑̾̆̕͝ẹ̶͚̼̳̹̝͕̳͎͊m̷̢̡̛̬̼̥̩̫͇͍͖̊̄̇̆̑̕͜͜͝ö̷̜́͊n̶̨͍̯̥̝̜͕̮͚͎̞̿̊̆̓̌̉̅ͅ.̸̱̠̮̺͚̼̥͔͖̳̲̤͑̆̄̿̄̈́͊͌̏̔̋̿̒̿͝.̸̬̬̣̬̦̙̦͇̀̋̎̾̂͛̚͜.̶̱̙͓̪̲͙͕̼̤̙͈̫̟̙̺̋̈̄̒̃̒́̚͝ ̷̛̟̱̽̀̆̅̀̾͂͑̉̋̈́̋͘m̷̨̛̲͉͎̳̮̳̩̼͙̯͙͐̕ų̶̗̤͉̭̺͉̞̱̙͔̞͉̙͌́̆̊s̶̢̧͙̰̣̳̦̉͆̈́́͐̿̆͌̎͘͘͝t̴̛̟̬̼̟̓͒̃͗̉̆̑̐́̀̒͠ ̸̛͖̼̜̈́̈́͒̎̐̈́̓̈́̚͘͝͝b̶̟͉͇̭̫̝̜̲͋̈̂́̆̍̐͐́̈́͒̏̅͝͝ͅę̵̥̟͖̪̫̩͕̟̘̭̒͊̌̿̄̀̒̅̓̍̈́̚͘͝͝ͅͅ.̸̢̡̡͕̫̘̹͈̫͛͛̐͗͆͆̆͜ͅ.̷̣̑̈͒̆̑͒.̶͔̾ ̶̘̟͉̞͎̜̋͗̓̍͊̽̈͑̈́͐̅̈́͘̚͝ô̸͍͓̬ͅv̴̟̌̎̈̎͋̉͆́͊͝e̵̢̛̬͎̙̥͕̥̞̠̩̤̜̽̆̿ͅr̷̖̆̿͑̑̎́̅̅͝͝͠͝t̴̢̛̝̹̙̯̣̭̲̜̬̙̝̖͂̈̈́̽̑̐̌́̔̄͠͝ḧ̷̛̫́̽̇̑̏̐̅̊̍͊̑̑̚͝r̸̡̡̛͉͕̣̲͙̺̠̖͎̫͚͖̃͆̔̈́̃̈́͂̀͆̉̀̃̕͜ö̶̧̰̭͇̖̥̺͚̺̰͔́̏́͂̌̆̉̆͂̏͋̕̕͝w̵̢̢̨̥͉̣̝̳͉̪͕͓̐̉̃̾͌͌͋̈́̐̍̾̌́̊̚ͅn̶̡̡̤̺͚̻̺̼͍͉̩̱̓͊̊̆̇͂͛̈́̊ͅ.̷̢͈̠̦͔̪̳̻͈̬̭̖̻̄̃̈́͂͌̆̏̾̔̅̈͝.̴̳͓̯̞͈̮̜̫̗̪͕̩̤̈͑̏͂͛̃̽͂ͅ.̸̨̥̬͎̞̞͊̉̉̃̄̋͘"̶̲̘̙͍̏́͛̓͋̈́͐̌̀͒̑̂͘̕͜͝
With a gesture of their hand, the wailing souls that made up the ephemeral comet grew louder and louder, writhing uncontrollably as they began to form a ghastly figure. Foritu could only look back as he saw a twisted amalgamation of lost remnants materialize. He gazed in pure terror as he saw a chilling, skeletal hand grasp the tendrils of his soul.
Make a card representing how you will go about interrogating the guard. The passing score is 10, but a perfect score will make the guard crack.
"My name is Rebecca! I'm supposed to hunt werebeast people, but you saved me, so you must be a good guy!" Rebecca then starts to cry a little. "I was scared! That mean Werebeast killed all my friends, and then I got lost! And when I walked towards the tree trunk to find my way, he stopped me! I tried to kill him, but he just stood there and laughed at me!"
So this little girl is a werebeast hunter? She's far too young for this line of work, and yet you can tell that her sword is made of silver, which means she must not be lying.
"Is any way... *sniffle* you could take me back home? I'm scared... I want to see my dad again."
You ask Rebecca where she lives, and the response is concerning.
"I live in Allschurch. That's where the Blood Moon Guard is settled."
The... Blood Moon Guard. You've heard only rumors about them, but they were said to be merciless hunters of the supernatural, and there are even theories that it is ran by a vampire. There's no doubt that it would be quite dangerous to take her home, especially since she knows you're a werewolf, but if she stays out here by herself, she will likely die.
What will you do?
It's almost 11 where I'm at, I'm going to bed.
Even despite nearly bleeding out, Timothy still maintained his confidence that he had the upper hand. Verth's frustration continued to build, but he maintained his composure as he proved his upper hand to his bitter enemy.
"Well, let's see here. I now have several witnesses to prove my innocence. Not only that, but now everyone here has now seen you take on the appearance of another person, so you can't frame me for what you did to yourself. You can't get rid of them, either, because now they're under my protection. You see, Timothy, no matter how you try to get rid of me, I will survive. I will always stay the hell in your way. I will chase you to the ends of Stitia until I breathe my last. For all the innocents you made suffer, for every life you took. You can make your schemes all you want, but the righteous will triumph in the end," Verth concluded. Timothy may be the talker, but Verth was confident in his skills in rallying a group of people to his cause. Timothy was going down this time, and if he tried to run to a different plane of existence, Verth would follow suit.
The New Order arranges for you to be transported to the ship dock. Meanwhile, the guard is treated for his injuries.
"We're sorry we couldn't save your carriage," Mythrik begins as she follows you through the cathedral, "but trust us. We'll find some way to make it up to you." You hear hooves approaching, and a carriage stops in front of the entrance. "Anyways. It's time to go to work." Mythrik offers a salute and smiles. "Good luck recruit! Show us what you're made of!"
You arrive with no complications. Captain Sperling guides you to the ship, a small little vessel with two cannons. Draped in black and red paint, the side says "ANGELS' VENGEANCE"
"Here she is... isn't she a beauty?"
You take a look on board as you await the arrival of the two angels. Hours pass as the boat drifts, the waves rising and falling.
"They shoulda arrived before you. Somethin's not right..."
As you wait, you hear footsteps approaching. You turn around, and see an angel, his wings torn off, body heavily tortured, and a scroll in his bloodied hand.
"Marley!" The captain hobbles over as quickly as he can, catching the angel as he falls.
"They know you're coming... don't go... don't go!"
The angel breathes his last as he drops the scroll. It furls out and written in blood.
"I HAVE TAKEN YOUR ANGELS.
THEY HAVE BEEN SUBJECTED
TO A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH.
DO NOT COME TO O."
Will you let this threat stop you from continuing your mission?
You begin your interrogation, which should hopefully make the guard cough up all the information he knows.
You grab him back the neck, threatening him with your sharp talons, and ask him what he knows about Arlin...
"Pwease! I aweady towd wou! I don' know where she is!"
Then who does? Is the first thought that comes to mind. You press your talons against the guard's neck, breaking the skin and drawing blood. Then, you ask your question.
"How wood I know?!"
You think he's lying. You focus, carefulluly pushing in deeper, dangerously close to an artery. As you focus, however, locking eyes with the guard, he suddenly grows pale, as though he had seen a ghost...
""F-f-fine! Okay! I know who knows! The baws!"
The boss? You ask him who this boss is.
"He a big guy! Ruff wooking! Name is Woss..."
"Ross?"
"Yes... now pwease... wet me go..."
Do you demand any more info, or will you look for Ross?
(I will get to you again once I get everyone taken care of)
"Ohoh... ohohoh... AHAHAHAHAHAHA! Are you so sure about your witnesses? I can alter their memories! Make it so that they never saw this happen! Oh! Or even better! Modify their memory to my advantage so that they say that you... killed this man."
Suddenly, everyone in the room except you falls to the ground, faint. Timothy exits his body, and the body collapses. Revealed is a Dawnwood guard, brutally annihilated, the talon marks carrying over to him. Then, Timothy breaks the chains binding you.
"I'll give you one last chance... flee with me, or the consequences will be dire..."