Young Writers Society

The Big Book of Spells
And Other General Knowledge

The Story

Ours is a band of vagabonds searching mostly for their next meal. After derailing from their studies as Elemental Artists, they don't have much of a future...or do they? Our band of miscreants will soon be heralded as a band of heroes! At least, that's the plan.

The World, Magic, And Everything Else

There are four supreme disciplines:
Alchemy, the study of earth and plants.
Hydrology, the study of water and ice.
Pyrology, the study of fire and heat.
Astronomy, the study of air and the ether.

Throughout the world, the four supreme disciplines are heralded as a gift from the gods. There are those who are masters of their element...and then there are our heroes, who barely know enough to get their feet wet. Or dry, as the case would be. Europa is about to be changed forever, and it's up to our heroes to preserve the future of mankind.

The Cast

The Heroes
Daniel, played by @Lumi
Anka, played by @Omniclysm
Pilen, played by @ReisePiecey
Simone, played by @Holofernes
Leigh, played by @Rosey%20Unicorn
Aten, played by @SuperNintendo

The Profile

Code: Select all

[b][size=200][small-caps]Name Here[/small-caps][/size][/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Discipline:[/b]
[b]Starting Weapon(s):[/b]
[b]Nation of Origin:[/b]
[b]Trope(s):[/b]

[size=150][b]Appearance & Habits[/b][/size]
Your text goes here.

[size=150][b]Personality & Behavior[/b][/size]
Your text goes here.



"YOU'RE KILLIN' ME HERE, MONEY!"

"IT'S ONLY TWO GOLD MORE!"

"YOU SAID THAT SIX GOLD AGO!"

"IT'S A SURE THING THIS TIME, STINGY."

Danny grunted and slammed two gold coins on the table beside his ale and grumbled You never see sweetie Pi swindling me for money. Simone swept the coins off the table with haste--before Danny could change his mind--and ran to the gambler's booth. He took a long swig of his beer before slamming it onto the table to signal a refill. The open-air tavern wasn't as good at carrying sound, though, so he made sure to do it several more times before the barfly noticed him.

"You sure can pack it away, mister." The girl couldn't have been more than fourteen.

"My blood is mostly beer these days anyway," he replied, belching. His eyes and neck rolled to the side where Pilen was seated with a bowl of beef stew lightly coated in frost. The lithe girl looked so disappointed.

"Y'know you can send food back here," Danny mumbled. "It's not like the chef'll throw a pan atcha like in Cellmessta."

"It's Celesta," Pilen giggled, and sighed as she downed the stew in mostly one gulp.

"It's never polite to insult a chef's cooking, no matter where in the world you are." Anka grabbed Danny's attention from across the table; he frowned. She looked so damn peaceful with her cider, almost like she was ready to give in and die already.

"Hey now, Granny. You signed a no-death contract when you joined me, remember? No givin' out wise shit and lookin' all calm...it freaks me out."

Anka twitched, her wrinkles betraying her spunk. "Call me granny again and the barfly'll be tasting your beer blood in no time." She winked. Danny seethed.

"You know what we need?" he asked everyone and no one. "We need an air guy." A large bell behind him sounded the beginning of the next jousting tournament. "Like a cool air guy who can do lightning and stuff." Danny swung his head around to the advertisement board with a huge grin.

Looking for a cool asstroll air guy, has to do lightnening and stuff.

Meat us at the jowsting tornamint tavern -Danny

Aten scratched his head, turning to Dune. “I wonder which one he is?"

"Squawk." Dune squawked, raising her body in a noncommittal shrug.

“OH COME ON DANNY! I JUST NEED TWO MORE! SURE FIRE I SWEAR.”

“AND I SAID NO, GODSDAMN-”

“Hello!” Aten said, taking a seat between the bickering duo. “Are you Danny? I found this poster on the wall over there.”

“IT” Danny turned towards Aten, holding a finger to Simonne’s lips as he did, and squinting at Aten as he sized the new face up. “Depends...can you do any lighting stuff?”

“Mhmm!” Aten swiped his arm over the table, knocking away the empty cups and chicken bones that cluttered Danny’s former spot. “Might want to take a step back.” Danny ignored him, in fact he took a step closer out of spite.

Aten mentally shrugged, placing his elbows on the table and position his hands parallel each other. Sparks erupted out of his fingertips, the air cackling as they shot outward curving towards their twins on the other side. “Now that’s what I like!” Danny hollered, kneeling down to get a closer look, face only a few inches from the lightning, eyes and mouth wide open.

“Tsk.” Anka sneered, waving her axe at the boys. The metal sheened under the electric light, the blunt of it’s hilt burying itself in Aten’s elbow as the light blinded him, collapsing face first into the tables, arms flailing to his sides. Danny laughed, eyes shut as he chuckled, completely unaware of the jolt that was barreling towards his face, falling to the floor at the bolt connected. “Elbows are kept off the table, did you never learn your manners?

Aten popped up, nodding along to the words. “Oh! My apologies, I should know better.” Aten bowed his head, holding a hand over his fist. Anka simply smirked, sheathing her axe and turning back to her meal.

"Ow..." Danny clutched the table, pulling himself back off the ground, the smoke from his cigarette visible before his face. He swiped a dagger off the table, holding it up like a mirror, running a finger over some burnt flesh. "Hmph, I guess I have a scar now...." Aten froze, placing his head into a bow, mumbling apologizes as Danny examined it further. "...Hardcore!" Danny threw down the knife, pulling Aten in close. "How do you feel about questing?"

Simone looked at her dwindling purse in dismay. She was going to dig up that idiot knight's grave and kill him (again) for losing. He had seemed so sure of himseld too, that arrogant fool. Strutting about in his shining armor. Sheesh.

"You have betrayed me, o knight," she murmured to herself dramatically. Simone put a hand over her heart and flung the other arm out in desperation. "I have learned not to trust anyone's blade but my own... though blackbirds still hum over your grave, o knight."

Anka raised an eyebrow. "Child, what are you doing? No theater will ever accept such lousy acting."

"Hm? Oh, never mind that!" Simone exclaimed, grabbing the new guy. "Come on, come on! Your quest begins right here, right now -- there's more stuff to see!"

He was tugged away from the stall, shouting something about his arm and how it would break. Such strange priorities.

Simone was glowing. She gasped at every firebreather, clapped at every performance, and insisted on going into every stall. They didn't have fairs in Allons. Everything was so drab unless you were rich. But you didn't even have to pay to get into these things. It boggled her mind.

The crowd flowed so naturally, too. It pulsed as if alive. A collective made up of grease and elbow-jostling. It made her giddy. She turned a corner. There was a stall with brightly colored stuffed dolls displayed outside, which looked interesting. There was also a mysterious-looking tent with strange engravings on the front, which looked exciting.

Tucked in a corner, there was another tent, very nondescript. It seemed that most people walked past it, as if they didn't see it, or didn't find it that interesting. It didn't look like much, but its presence made her grinned. Simone recognized this one.

"Hey guys," she said, "I've found us money."

"Money?" Danny piped up. "By money, do you mean my money? Disappearing rapidly? If so then I'll pass, thank you very much."

"No, stupid," Simone replied. There was hunger in her voice. "I mean money falling into our wallets." She strolled into the tent.

It was quiet inside, and dusty. At the back of it, there was a board, scratched and apparently having survived a mauling. A robed man was standing by it. His face was hooded.

"Welcome," he said. His voice was oily. "You're in luck, adventurers. Just got in a new one for you."

He waved towards the board. There was a note at its center, affixed by a knife.

"Cultists crash carnival," the new guy read. "Eradicate post haste. Reward, a hundred-and-twenty gold."

There was silence, then, the simultaneous exclamation of five voices.

"Nice!"

“You kids muck around too much.” Anka whined, studying her reflecting on the surface of the blade of her newly polished axe. Surely that wasn’t a new and deeper wrinkle. Oh well, by now she was used to it, nothing a bit of powder couldn’t hide.

“Well we need to make sure we are prepared for what we are facing.” Pilen tried to argue despite the fact everyone was twitchy.

“What is there to prepare for?” Simone objected. “They’re cultists. Cultists.”

The new kid grinned. He was a nice young one, friendly and with a good amount of spunk. If only Anka had been a bit younger she would have been all over him by now…
Anka could tell he was eager to show off his skills to his new band, not that he had already impressed Danny with his former show. That brat had low standards.

“I’ll tell you now we are as prepared as we need to be.” The older woman decided.

“You all should be put to shame. I wouldn’t be caught dead being slower than someone three times my age.” She stood up, ready to show them how it was done.

“We’re going. Stop fussing over your chains, Danny-boy.”
Anka marched outwards, glancing behind her only to see nobody was following.

Typical, young ones all seemed to want to stick together in some popular hive. She scoffed.

The carnival where trouble was rumoured was not far. Only a ten minute walk from the town centre, though it was a dodgy and deserted area, not many people would wander too close to its proximity.
Anka was two minutes into her walk when a not quite familiar voice called out from behind her.

“Sitto! Wait up Sitto!”
Anka turned to see the new child running toward her, a great grin pumping up his youthful cheeks. Sitto? It was a nice change from the grumbling ‘Granny’ she seemed to have been dubbed by the others. He sprinted over, catching his breath as he slowed his pace back to a walk.

“So you lot finally decided to head out have you?” Anka asked and the kid nodded furiously. “They left just now, walking at their own leisurely pace.”

“Hmmm…” Anka pause. “What was your name again, child?”

“Aten, dear Sitto.”

“Aten huh?, Well I guess we better wait up for that lousy bunch then.” She spun her axes around her wrists with fantastic agility.

“I’m eager to see what these cultists have got to offer.”

Beckett looks down at his feet as he falls behind the group. He stays behind a good distance, swinging his staff side by side. Occasionally he looks up ahead, only to see Danny evaluating the new guy. Anka is on Danny’s right side, joining in with the questions. Simone is laughing along behind them.

“Beckett! Get up here!” Danny yells behind him. Beckett looks up and rushes to the group. His chest hits Simone, causing her to bump into Danny.

“Sorry about that, really am.” He says to her. Simone turns and gives him a glare. He holds out his hands in front of him. She turns back around and mutters something, but Beckett doesn’t pick it up.

“Everything okay back there?” Danny turns around and asks.

“Yeah, just being clumsy.” He responds. Danny faces forward and smirks.

“They allow clumsiness in Kallider? Huh, no wonder why I never visited!” He chuckles. The others follow along. Beckett bites his lower lip.

“It’s Kaldir, not Kallider.” He says out of anger.

“To-ma-to, to-mah-to!” Danny shrugs. Beckett’s grip tightens on his staff. A part of him wanted to lash out, break stuff, the usual, but he doesn’t. Instead he grinds his teeth and clenches onto the staff. A hand touches his shoulder. He looks over to find Anka, having a somewhat concerned look on her face. He nods then looks up.

Dim torches and the sound of cheering fill the night sky. They stand on dead grass looking at the abundance of tents. The group cheers and hug each other. We have finally made it. Simone bursts through and heads into the fairgrounds. Each follow into the entrance.

“Where do we go?” The new guy asks as they stroll through the carnival. They start looking around for five minutes, but find nothing. Beckett rests on the bench as the others argue about where to go. He tilts his head to the right when he finds something odd. A man in a cloak just standing there, just staring at them.

“Guys,” Beckett says to the group, “I think we found where we’re supposed to go.” Simone eyes the man, then rushes over. The others follow.

“I sure hope this mission is sane.” Beckett says under his breath.

“We’re doing this for cultists.”

The Cult of Burning Oil





Danny grabbed Simone by the coat collar and yanked her back to his side, protectively. The hooded man very slightly raised his head and addressed Danny with a mumble.

"We are the order of Burning Oil."

Danny narrowed his eyes. "So, like, you fry food n stuff?"

The cultist shook his head solemnly. "We are not a purveyor of faire foods, son. I am afraid you've come to the wrong place."

Danny stroked his chin in meditation. "Hm. So the whole oil thing is just a hoax to draw in hungry foodies." He grinned. "I'm in!" He blinked to both sides, checking the looks on each of his buddies' faces. "Excuse us; just one sec, I promise."

He pulled everyone into a huddle--yes, even Granny--and looked at 'em all, one by one. He could smell their breath all in one go. It was pretty nasty. Whispering, he said: "Here's the plan." Danny proceeded to make hand jestures depicting explosions and beatdowns, finishing with the universal sign for money...then rain. Food, beer, full, fat bellies...and then sleep. Okay, so it was his entire plan for the evening, to give you the cliff notes version.

When Danny stood, he recalled in his head that the guy back at the jousting grounds wanted twenty-four cultist signets, signifying their deaths. If the number was so high, what did that mean about their total ranks? What if there were hundreds? Or maybe Danny could recreate the signets with alchemy and some jewelcrafting thrown in for good measure. He did have a couple of lazuli on him...nah, killing shit would get it done.

He turned back to the cultist and nodded. "Sir, we would be blessed if you would permit us entrance into your hallowed ranks."

The cultist looked left and right, and then nodded, pulling open the curtain door to their very large, very black tent. There was hardly any light inside, and Danny tried counting heads, but there were well over forty men--or women, maybe--in the tent, and Danny couldn't imagine taking them all on. Especially not when he wanted to watch Aten in action with his cool lightning stuff. He thought for a moment, silent even as a cultist removed his tunic, rubbed smelly stuff on his chest and throat, and threw a hooded cloak over his head.

Danny turned to see the same being done to the other men in the group. Anka and Simone had their smearers by the throats as they tried to undress them. Danny bore his teeth together and slid his foot against the soil, moving the two smearers ten yards back from his friends. "Just take the robes," he told them, "and make sure to take your hood off when things get ugly."

He turned to Pilen and nodded to a large pile of what were probably holy books in the center of the room. "Sweet Pi, when the action starts, I want those things lit up like a Wintermoot Tree, got it?"

Pilen nodded, staff at the ready. Danny could already see the embers beginning to rise from within it. He reached into his beltline and pulled his length of chain from its makeshift sheath, curled it around both fists.

"Excuse me, sir," mumbled a cultist, "but weapons are not allowed in this place of worship."

Simone instantly beamed. "If that's the case, then you bitches are toast!" She drew her daggers and spat into the air around them. The blades froze the spit into a bladed circle that swung in an arc and sliced through the cultist's throat, only to return peacefully to the dagger.

Danny knelt and searched the dude's fingers for a ring before yelling "BINGO!" He emerged with two rings and a gold coin. "Pi! Light 'em up!"

Pilen thrust her staff in the air, sending out duo of fireballs that flew into the pile of holy books. They took to blazing, lighting up the whole tent. Immediately, all cultist attention was on the group of five. Danny grinned wickedly. Anka smiled. "Now this is why I travel with you hoodrats." She sprang into action, cutting down cultist after cultist.

Wasting no time, Danny swung a fist into a cultist's nose, shattering parts of his skull as a stone followed his blow. He kept this up until a whole pew of worshipers were down; then he rifled through their bodies. Four more rings and another two gold coins. Today was his lucky day.

______________________________________________
Loot:
Cultist's Singet x6
Gold Coin x3

Aten sat in his perch, a sort of nest he had made in between two tent posts, grinding away into his bowl. At the very least these new friend were surprising, had he been asked a few hours ago what he thought he would be doing...well fighting oil based cultists was actually not too far down. “I should go back and apologize to that fortune teller,” the hunter muttered, twisting the grindstone one final time. He wafted his hand over the bowl, a single whiff caused his body to jolt back, revealing his presence to the enemy, and more importantly Simone.

“Get down here and fight, you freeloader!” The girl spat, sending a freshly iced dagger towards Aten, the blade lodging itself in the metaphorical apple over his head.

Aten glanced up, laughing as he pulled the dagger out of the wood. “First off, that was so cool! You have great aim” Aten said as he tossed the knife back. Simone grabbed it out of the air, digging it into a stray cultist before she hit the ground. “Second, sure thing.”

Aten pulled out his bow, notching an arrow and scanning the rest of the tent for action. “Hey!” Aten shouted across the tent. “Cultists in the mauve and fuchsia hood!” Two cultists turned toward Aten, the closer one getting nailed by a fireball as he opened up a blind spot. At the same time Aten let his arrow loose, it spiraled across the tent, piercing through the fuchsia hood and nailing the cultist to the support beam behind him.

“Lame!” Danny made a snoring noise. “Where was the cool lightning action?” Danny was so offended by the lack of lightning stuff that he was taken by surprise by a cultist, who pinned Danny to the ground in animal like rage. It was not a pretty sight. No offence to Danny.

“Not really sure how to do that with an arrow yet,” Aten said, his face turning rosy as blood rushed to his cheeks, while Danny was still pinned to the ground. “I probably should have told you during the interview--Oh dang, that looks bad.” Aten pulled back an arrow, knocking the cultist off of Danny.

“Son of a bitch!” Danny threw an uppercut, knocking the cultist into an oil drum. “This is my favorite face!” Danny rubbed his face, the eye already swelling, his good eye catching the sight of half a dozen cultists swarming around him. “Anyone want to lend me an eye?” Danny laughed to himself, which scared the cultists enough to buy him a few seconds. “Seriously, one of help me.”

“That I can do!” Aten scrambled in his pouches, pulling out a green arrowhead, the tip of which extended out into a needle, and purple fluid vial. With his teeth he ripped the cork out of the vial, jamming it into the arrowhead before anything could drip out, jamming the arrowhead onto a spare shaft in his quiver. “At least I think it should work...never tried this on a person before.” The arrow went loose, the needle flying into the circle of cultists, ignoring the cultists and piercing Danny’s swollen face.

Danny ripped the arrow out, smashing it against the ground. “Beleven, first rule of fighting is you don’t hit my face--feels funny.” Danny raised a hand to his face, taking in the now back to normal perfection of his skin. “Like a baby’s bottom.” With his spare fist, because he was not about to stop feeling the smooth and silky skin of his cheek, he rushed down a cultist, sending the cultist flying into one of his buddies,. From above Aten notched an arrow, crippling a cultist who tried to get Danny from behind, still no lightning stuff.

The amount of blood dripping down Simone's arms was making her grip slippery. Grinning savagely, she sheathed her dagger in the nearest cultist's leg and followed that with a cross to his face.

To her side, another one came swinging. She moved into his strike, but slipped and collapsed on top of the hooded individual. They both fell down in a heap of limbs.

"Simone," Danny called, "we're supposed to be fighting them."

"I know that," she replied, getting the cultist in a lock. She head bone snap. Simone rolled away from him and came up on one knee, scanning the tent for the opponents. There were, to her dismay, two left, and they were hightailing as quickly as possible amidst the corpses.

"No you don't," she snarled, beginning to take after them.

"I got this," Pi said, lobbing a fireball.

Four voices panicked in unison. Simone threw herself for cover as Pilen's attack collided with an oil drum. The resulting explosion was more like a shockwave. Flames consumed the tent, screaming forward in destructive impetus. Pilen cackled and ran along through the flames giggling.

Simone, having recovered her eyesight, moved forward, towards the flame, scrabbling at the ground. The heat was unbearable. Her breath came in gasps. The smoke was oppressive.

"What are you doing?" A voice called out. "Come on!"

Where was it? She tossed bodies around furiously, running her hands across each one quickly. The atmosphere became more unbearable with each passing second. Tears came to her eyes at the thought of having to abandon it -- there!

Simone extracted her dagger from the charred ball of flesh that had once had a name and family and sheathed it. Turning around, she sprinted towards where she thought she could see the others. The figures were hazy in the smoke. Black spots threatened her vision.

Someone grabbed her. They hit the ground just as the tent collapsed behind them.

"Holy shit," Danny breathed. They were all staring at the smoldering pyre of a tent. It showed no sign of burning less violently. "The fire might spread."

"We have to get outta here," Aten muttered.

"No way! I want my money," Simone said. The fire in front of her was reflected in her eyes -- or, perhaps, it was the opposite.

"Someone's coming," Anka hissed.

They dashed into the shadow of another tent. Peering around the corner, they saw more robed figures. They were gesticulating wildly and arguing with themselves. Smoke was streaming into the sky. All it would take was one gust of wind...

"What do we do? If we leave now, we might not be able to collect our reward."

"If we don't leave..."

"I don't care," Simone spat. "We're killing these guys, and I'm going to collect my reward even if the whole faire burns down."

"They probably have different headquarters somewhere," Anka said. "And lower your voice! They might hear us."

"So we follow them," Simone replied, deliberately quiet, "and then we --" she finished the sentence by jerking her thumb across her neck. "Let's go."

After escaping the burning tent of the Cult of Burn(t)/ing Oil, Danny called for a sidebar to assess their progress. In a huddle, they all held out their hands to show the rings they'd gotten.

Danny had his six, Aten had four, and the others had

"None?!" Danny gasped. "None is the worst number of them all. How could you get none rings? This is sad."

Simone rolled her eyes. "I think the question is how you got so many. I think all the cultists whose power was magnified by the rings flocked to you for some reason."

Danny thought on this. "Well, none of 'em were ladies, if that's what you're gettin' at."

Simone pursed her lips. "I wasn't, but maybe now I will." A quick shuffle. "Do you attract queer occult men, Daniel? What's your secret? I'm sure Aten would like to hear it."

"Hey, whoa, no. Um, oh." He realized all attention had fallen on him. "I had a, uh."

"Girlfriend?"

"Yeah! A girlfriend! I had one in Naz-Ahir." His cheeks lit up. "She was pretty!"

Danny arched an eyebrow. "Then why'd ya break up with her? Having none girlfriend is worse than having one. You can't argue with math." Simone pointed to Danny in agreement.

Aten shuffled his feet, little gusts of air rolling nervously off of him as his brain-gears rolled. "Well," he started, "look! A cultist!"

Everyone turned immediately, spying together another purple-robed figure. They all returned their heads to the huddle. "Okay, we follow this dude to their hideout and leave none alive."

Simone smiled and patted Danny's head. "You got one right." Danny unwittingly beamed at the attention.

"Excuse me," came a voice.

Danny swirled in his robe to the speaker and found the robed woman from before whose chest was just as exposed as the men were. Danny jerked his eyes to attention at her face.

"If you all are planning on making the anointing ceremony, you need to hurry. The rest of us are awaiting the Grandmistress at the top of the hill." The bare-breasted woman strapped on a breastplate, much to Danny's dismay, and pointed to a purple arena-building at the top of the Celtinshire hill. "Don't be late!"

She hesitated, staring at Danny and Anka. "Why...you two are alchemists, but you're not wearing the ring!" She huffed and pulled two from a coat pocket. "Here. Your powers won't be worth anything against the Flame Meisters if you don't wear these."

Danny and Anka received their rings.

"Flame Meisters," Danny echoed. Then he grinned. "Sounds epic!"

______________________________
Loot Table
Cultist's Signet x2
Gold x0

"I didn't know you could fry a sweetroll ," Danny poked at the mutant blob of dough in front of him, fleeing as yellow oozed from his touch. Simmone laughed, which got the rest of the squad laughing at the Great Fleeing Danno, coming to your town next week. "Oh yeah? I bet you wouldn't eat it."

"Puh-lease," Simone scooped up the roll with her hand, letting the cream drip down her palm, while Danny’s green growing face looked on. “I’ve cooked stuff that was less edible than this.” The mass of golden dough rolled into her mouth, a single swallow before it sailed away into the acidic swamp below. Simeon whipped her head forward, grinning in victory, only to see Danny ignoring her win, eyes glued to Aten, a smug grin on his smug face.

“Aten.” Danny held out his hand, giving the gesture for “Hand it Over.” “I believe you owe me something.”

Aten turned to Danny, jaw hanging with childlike awe. “How did you know? Are you some sort of monk?”

“Nope, you see Aten I am what you call a con.” Danny pulled a seat over towards him, popping a squat with the chair’s back against his chest, arm draped over casually. “The thing about us cons, we can get into people’s head, we see how they tick, and then, when the moment is right, we twist that to our will. All I had to do was wait for the right moment, and like the great vipers of your sandy home,we strike.”

Simone poked her head between the mentor moment, looking between the two with disgruntled confusion. “What are you going on about.”

“What have I said about disrupting my mentor sessions?” Danny barked. “You already ruined Pi’s shot, do you want to ruin sweet Aten’s?” Pilen sank a sweet roll into her mouth and sank deeper into the background.

Simonne ignored Danny’s outrage, looking over to Aten for answers. “Oh, well on our way in Danny spotted those sweet rolls, and he asked me if he thought you would eat it, and I said I didn’t know, and he bet me that he could make you eat it, and then he did.” Anka burst out laughing, her axe clanging to the floor as she shook with it.

“That was your great con? A sweetroll? Back in my prime I could sweet talk a cow into making ale, swindle a blind man to give me his cane-”

“Heck, one time I got a fish to think it could fly, and boy did that thing soar!” Simmone mimicked, her words matching right into Anka’s tempo. “If that’s true, then why are you hanging around a bunch of kids, eh granny? Simone answer was a slap to the head, Danny having to hold her back as she reached for his knives. “Why don't you ever answer us, you hag!”

“Disrespect is only met with disrespect, that is the way of the world, when you learn to ask a question I will give you my answer.” Anka took a swig of her ale. “Also, this is far more entertaining to watch.” Simone sized, Danny having to dig his feet into the ground to keep her down, guiding her into her calming breaths.

“Alright, are we calm and dandy? Cause I got a payment to collect.” Simmone nodded, taking her seat and her beer. “Alright, Aten load it up.” Aten placed his hands at either side of the table, letting the lightning flow through his fingers, Danny freaking out from his side. “I’m never gonna get tired of this, it’s so lightning and stuff!” Danny glanced at the rest of the squad, frowning as he noticed their complete lack of excitement.

“Hello, would you all like any refill---DEAR FLAME!” The waiter backed away. “Someone get her mistress! We have intruders!” The little tavern light up, both in activity and literally as the army of Pyrologens around them summoned flames, which gave a very clear “Don’t Move.”

“Dammit Danny!” The boy was knocked forward, the force of both Anka’s axe and the hilt of Simone's dagger digging into the back of his, their feud over just in time to enjoy their favorite past time: Blame Danny. “How is this my fault, Aten’s the one who---PI, YOU TOO?”

“We’re going to die!” the lithe girl screamed, his staff leaking flames in her panic.

Danny bounced back from the slap, finger pointed mad at Pilen, who had already raised her staff in defence. “You’re suppoed to be the sweet one, not like those two bit--- ATEN, YOU TOO?”

“I’m sorry, I got swept in my the pressure, it seemed like the right thing to do. Also my mother taught me never to use that word, no matter what language. ” the dark skinned boy said, head bowed in shame.

“Silence!” The crowd around them parted, a tall figure shrouded in flames strutting her stuff towards them, two muscular, fan servicely topless armor men standing on each side of her, a cultist in tattered robes following a few steps behind her. “Is this the group you told me about? The one who destroyed our Carnival Crew?” The tattered cultist nodded, and with his nod the Mistress summoned a wave of flame at her feet. “Guards, take care of these criminals for me, and whoever brings me the least heads will spend the night in the hot box.”




]Flame Mistress Morten

Boss Info

General Info: Flame Mistress Morten is the leader of the Cult of Burning Oil, succeeding her mentor, Flame Master Warflay. Morten is protected by two bodyguards, both flame users wielding swords. The guards must be defeated before Morten may be engaged. The entire encounter lasts three posts. The Loot Table will be posted in the DT once the encounter is over.

Powers: Her two bodyguards may use powers 1-3. Morten may use all 5.
1. Flaming Charge: You blur through the air towards your enemy, striking them before they can defend.
2. Hell Flare: You launch a beam of blinding fire from your weapon, blinding the enemy for a short time.
3. Demon Aura: Surround yourself in unholy flames, overheating your enemy’s weapon and disarming them for a short time.
4. Devil’s Blood: Each melee attack against you splatters burning blood on the enemy, causing burning over time.
5. Dementor’s Flight: You grow fiery wings, bypass your enemy’s defense, and drastically increase attack speed.

Apparently, these intruders had no idea about the art of subtly. Leigh shrugged. Any opportunity to end this cult was a good one.

Ve turned to see both guards raising their weapons, power beginning to radiate. Feet braced, ready to—

"Wind ward!"

Leigh's book blew open to page 104, tomb glowing and sending a gust of wind out in front of the whole group even if they were currently turned on one of them. Instead of cutting straight through two of their hearts with the flaming charge, the gust of wind knocked the guards off course just enough the lanky boy got sliced on his arm, and the archer a graze over his chest.

Mistress Morten's head snapped towards Leigh, vacant eyes narrowing in vis direction. "Another?"

Ve released vis whip from its holster, letting it uncurl. Everybody backed away, not wanting to be associated with a new interloper. Leigh remained calm, waiting.

The scrappy girl who appeared ready to spring at any moment finally did, dagger slashing across a bodyguard's chest and drawing blood. The first release let everyone go, and things got more than a little confusing between screams from cultists and attacks from all sides.

Leigh flicked vis whip out, catching one guard's wrist before he could send his sword into the loudest intruder's head. An old woman, grandmother, almost, took advantage of the opportunity to attack in a frenzied rage, axe landing eight hits before ve pulled vis whip back and felled the guard.

Ve jumped to the side but didn't quite miss an iron knuckled punch to the ribs. The cultists were fighting back, and ve wasn't the only one getting hit.

That cultist soon found herself with the thickest part of Leigh's whip around her neck, definitive snap getting her down.

Now to deal with the rest of them.

The crazy lady's black-haired bodyguard charged Danny as the windcaster landed on his feet. As much as he wanted to watch the lightning and stuff, he couldn't just let a guy charge at him with a sword -- heads were lost that way! Danny ducked and rolled beneath the guard's assault, whipping out his chains and casting a small transmutation through their lengths, turning the ends to blades. The guard adjusted his stance, but fell instantly as Danny swung the chains around with his feet. Taking a grip on his left chain, Danny leaped onto the guard and let a burst of energy blow through the guy's chest; his plate armor turned to dust, and Danny dug the blade of his right chain into the man's chest cavity, winking as the dude took his last breath.

"Siebold!" shouted the matron, and Danny rose to attention just as Aten fired an arrow through the second bodyguard's skull. "Nystrom!"

The woman erupted with fury--fiery fury--and screeched. A blast of scalding air blew out around them, separating the gang from the cultists in one fell swoop.

"Not a soul may intervene!" shouted the matron. "Step beyond the fires of my guard and surely will you perish!" The woman snarled, eyes smoldering; things sprouted from her head--like little blades, only twisted. Danny suddenly realized they were horns.

He loudly whispered to Aten: "Aten, that lady just grew horns!"

Aten shout-whispered back: "I know! It's so cool!"

The woman drew her swords and scanned the gang for her first target. When Danny pulled his hooded cloak off by the chest and let it fly into the flames, she fixated on him, torso gleaming with light-reflecting beads of sweat. "You departed dear Siebold before his matrimony! Surely shall thee parish, as is written by the tongue of Morten! Lok'na shogash!"

Danny braced himself, but could never have expected her speed.

________________________
Loot Table
Cultist's Signet x0
Gold x3

Aten, however, did see that speed coming, a little hunting trick he had picked up, tensed muscles can speak volumes.

“Eagle!” Aten screamed, plunging into the scene with air imbued speed, tackling Danny and bringing both of them to ground ias her flame mistress sailed past, flaming blades striking air. “Eagle…” Aten whispered, clinging to Danny. “Eagle.” Danny replied, clinging back just as strong. Meanwhile her Flame Mistress hadn’t missed a beat, pivoting from the empty spot and targeting Danny, raising her blades above the hapless pile of limbs and queerbaiting.

“KWAH!” The tent burst open with a ruffle, a mass of white feathers barrelling into the scene. “KAW!” The bird’s head rose out of the plume, eyes trained on her Flame Mistress. With a pump of the wings the beast soared over, weaving through the flame mistress’s defensive strikes and latching onto her face with cruel intent.

Flame erupted as her mistress cried out in bloodcurdling screams, flames rising up around her as she squirmed. tTe bird clawing at her face while the rest of the members looked on in horror. Simone dropped her knife, and along with the man attached to it, in shock, while Leigh stopped mid spell, propelling two mooks backwards in an unrefined gust of wind. One guard dropped his ice cream cone, it was a sad sight.

“Dune!’ Aten exclaimed, completely unfazed by the gruesome sight, instead pulling out a whistle and letting out a soft blow. The bird turned head, unlatching from the flame mistress and landing on top of Aten’s shoulder, a piece of flesh dangling from it’s beak.

“Eagle?” Danny said in awe, moving a tentative hand over the bird’s plumage. In Danny’s mind the mysterious bird was a message from the heavens, a symbol of the tender moment that Aten and Danny had been a part of.

“Vulture, actually,” Aten replied, pressing Danny’s hand down into the soft plumage. “I told her to stay in town, but I guess she decided not to listen, as usually.” Aten stroked under her chin, dangling a piece of charred meat from the snack table. “Didn’t want her to see all the fried chicken, it always upsets her.” Dune turned her head into the air. “Which is completely understandable, I would be upset if I saw fried human arms hanging from a stand.” Dune nodded.

“Mar Kogoth ik'nir gadram!” The Flame Mistress rose, her face bloodied, with dangly flesh hanging about in odd places. “Grish nar olg vathal!” The Mistress grabbed her swords, raising them in the air as flames spiraled above her, gathering in the space between the swords. The light was like the sun, the rest of the tent turning away as the light beamed down on them, the Flame Mistress cackling in equal parts pleasure and pain. “Lok'tar korgath!”

The ball dropped.

Leigh almost lazily flicked vis whip out. "Lightning."

Before The Mistress' spell was even formed, Leigh's whip stuck her, electricity along its length. Morten screamed before collapsing in a shower of burning embers, circle of flame around them roaring before dissipating out, singeing those who didn't get out of the way in time.

Ve curled the whip back up and hung it on vis belt. When ve looked up again, the loudest of the group was right in vis face, eyes so bright they might as well have starshine in them.

"That was the coolest thing I've ever seen! I mean, lightning, along a whip?! You're coming with us come on come on comeoncomeoncomeon—!"

Leigh blinked, looking around as the wiry girl raided pockets and hands and any place there could be some sort of jewellery. "And you are?"

He stuck his hand out. "Danny the great leader of these fantastic adventurers and I've decided you are a perfect edition to our group."

Ve raised an eyebrow. "Oh really now."

At no forthcoming hand, he grabbed vis hand and dragged vem forward. "You you're coming with us comeoncomeoncomeon." Once he'd taken the few steps required to get to the group, Danny dropped Leigh's hand and jumped to the side, presenting vem like a sideshow attraction. "I found another air guy!"

Leigh weighed the pros and cons of protesting, and decided the cons of trying to escape this guy far outweighed the pros of wandering around alone. "Leigh."

The girl looked up from looting. "Simone." After a second glance, she narrowed her eyes and looked vem up and down. "And you are...?"

Ve smirked. "Myself."

Her eyes narrowed more.

Danny jumped around and grabbed another guy's sleeve. "Look! Two air guys! C'mon get to know each other."

The other astronomer grinned and stuck out a hand. "Aten. From Naz-Ahir."

"Dreamer's Rest," ve replied, taking the offered hand, this time.

Everybody froze at the sound of metal, leather, and footsteps. Danny clapped his hands. "Oh-kay as much as we'd like to introduce everybody let's make like a banana and split before they split us for us."

They all went out of the back of the tent, sneaking out into the woods. Danny, however, turned around and grabbed a small girl's wrist. "Pilen, light that place up in three... two..."

Ve heard the clattered confusion and wails as other cultists discovered the remains of Mistress Morten.

"One."

The tent burst into flames.