Murmurr: A Tragedy of Two Lovers

As the priest thanked him of his service, Josiah's mind conjured only a single, foreboding, question, "How bad could this be?" Certainly, the mind of the Orthodoxy was spun by devilish machinations, but Josiah believed, on some errant notion, that he could intuit their punishment. After all, he survived Gomorrah, so he had some experience with God's Wrath. As Lord Raphael lead his choir in prayer, Josiah breathed deeply; his eyes prepared for the burning. How naive.

From psalms sang by vindictive souls, the Carnies were uprooted then twisted by the ruddy bark of this hallowed tree. With their flesh pierced and innards drained into the soil, Josiah could feel his stomach churn; a violent fit of... something sloshed about. In the boys throat was a trickle, a taste test of the mysterious brew— caustic and vile. No. No. His throat cinched before a fierce gulp forced the liquid back into his stomach, but it was only a temporary stop measure. The corrosive taste had been burned into his throat and it permeates his mouth. It was only a matter of time before his own innards were on display— but the time wasn't know. It could not be now. Not with so many eyes on him. Not with their eyes on him.

"Of course, Lord Raphael. Just... Just doing God's work." His eyes wouldn't part from the sight of that great tree and the ominous shadow it gave.

"Good good, and to continue your blessings, you will sleep under this tree tonight. I'll see to it that nothing harmful will be able to reach you, but of course you'll have access to the town and its people for any needs." Raphael spoke, their words so sickening and corrupted most of the town held back terror and vomit in fear that they would get reprimanded harshly. Josiah's companions could only look on, holding in shrieks and ivory expressions. They held tight as the great magician used their power to form black hands around him, moving the boy right under the deep red branches.

The night was coming fast, and if he dared to try to fight back now there would be harsher punishments. Maybe not even for him, but for the town. They had done exactly what he wanted, but still, the wise one was playing with him. Josiah was nothing but a little puppet in the game that was this inspection, this visit. There could've been no mole, there could've been no trouble and all still may have fell victim to these machinations.

"Well, I don't want to take away from your quality time and night's rest, we shall report back to Lord David, now that should give you all a month more until we bring by the workforce. By next harvest time, you should all be ready to work in your brand-new tower!" They laughed. As they lifted into the sky, darkness spread forth to bring night as if they were capes on their tormentor's backs. He had a ball to attend, but now he had a hundred eyes with a hundred different thoughts piercing him.


The flaming blade would do great things as the hands of the end were pushed back. Gabriel used the might fo their magic to create endless hordes, growing from the bodies of those they had already slain. Still, this was the beginning of the end, but not for those beneath the mages no, those blessed by Ill Illah would find death, fear, and for the first time in millennia, weakness. "Gamigar Sabe!" The Asura would scream as their stave created 3 arms of ice and 3 of fire, grasping through the riving mass of magic.

"The resistance sends it's regards!" he roared, his arms pushing and forcing the mage into the blade of the giant. It tore through, they tried to command the rukh to protect, to repair what was broken but their grasp weakened, their golden rod falling to the ground. Most would miss it, but Gamigan holding one in his own hands fully understood the power they carried, the crux that they would be in the time to come. "Do not let the church retrieve that Stave!"

The plea would ring out on the battlefield, as people fled, running and racing towards it. There were weaker humans, giants and beasts of this fine city scrambled. Gola, had almost grasped it himself, seeing greatness in its gleam but it was not his time. Like a needle it bounced, slipping just through the cracks. As a black tendril would rush to grasp it, a shell, a tortoise had spun on snatching it into their protective home.

48 hours to post

The battle at last had finally begun to pivot in their favor. The dark mages had the upper hand at the moment but with the addition of the resistance the tide had begun to turn. A new swell of power had returned to his form as he pushed forward with their comrades tearing through the droves of magic and monsters that the orthodoxy had made. In his mind he had felt stronger, happier that the battle would continue and they would be able to save lives. The addition of their Asuran friend meant that the droves of dead and abominable would be pushed, the power flowing from his spear would continue to slash and pierce through any that came close. His eyes remained both on the field and on the floating mage in the air as their battle would come to an end. On the ground, Surtr stood strong as he yelled and pushed further in an attempt to show their foes just who they had been dealing with.

Seeing the dark mage torn asunder brought a smile upon his face though it would be true that he wanted that honor...that glory of tearing that mage into pieces. Though what would come next would be even worse. The tumbling of the stave. Hearing the words of his ally he would begin to move forward. What was scary was not how he moved but how quick. Surtr bobbed and weaved through waves of allies and foes alike. He wasted no movements in trying to get to the stave, but once Gola had almost had it he knew...this was it. His honor. Pushing into the depths of his reserves he would let out a loud bellow as he charged forward he would see another. Magic flowed from them that much he could tell , but he could also feel...an ally among them.

The thoughts of Rou came blasting forward pushing Surtr on as he scooped up Sparrow when they tried to offer him the staff and kicked away one of the corrupted enemies. Stabbing his lance into the ground he would take the staff from the Magician and smile.

He felt something different, as if in this moment it was time. Time to show them what he could do. The achievements he would come. Looking among the masses of giants and humans alike he would shout to the heavens," TODAY WE END THIS....TODAY WE STAND VICTORIOUS TOGETHER... LETS DO THIS!!!,"not knowing what would come of him using this staff but he would try. He would hope. He would at long last become the hero he wanted to be...or die trying.

There goes boy wonder; forced into take off by pretentious cruelities offered in the pretense of kindness. Most people would register, quite promptly, fear and horror at Lord Rafael's gift. However, Josiah hadn't the luxury to consider any immenent danger. No, his concerns were pressed into a singular focus, his gut. Trepidations wracked the boy's inside as he was flung haphazardly to the canopy. The few droplets that cinged his throats had multiplied into chunks which Josiah barely restrained. He could die, but God forbid he gives up the secret formula of his mysterious lunch slop to the enemy...

The only solace of this upward mobility was that Lord Raphael and his priest did not stay long. Even still, Josiah did not dare to spill guts, for now he worried of another set of eyes. The piercing beads below his new perch. Josiah hadn't a penny to spare for their thoughts, nor did he want their two-cents, at least for the time. For now, the young boy would inspect his new habitat with a great deal of caution.

As the Weaver of Magic and the Beast of frost and flame fought those down below would feel the rukh form a veil around them. The handing of the stave would feel a rush, it still had to be modified for proper user, but he would feel something inside call to him, a burning passion. It radiated with the same type of heat that his blade had, but there was something different. This wasn't the will of someone else no, it was his voice speaking through the item. Asking him, almost begging him to try and talk to the rukh. This was his vessel of communication, now all he had to do was find the world. It was uncertain as Raphael had already been knocked down once, and now fighting in the air without his stave he struggled against the asura.

A limp wand was held in the magician's hand as he conjured what rukh he had left, his horn would form once again, ringing out as those who couldn't resist or were already under his will would have the tendrils form thick black armor. There was a new invigoration of the people from Sabnock, as they tried to free their people. This was the last hurrah, they just needed to make sure that the forces of David and his church were knocked out of this city for good.


As Josiah rested above on his new treehouse the night would start to creep in. As the sun had set the people had slowly left back to their houses. There were of course still the few who had shock leaving them paralyzed in place. Their eyes were like lamps as the few streetside torches would reflect in their horrified, judging expressions. While all had lived under the fear of David's thumb it was a special treat for the people to see how their authority was enacted.

Once he was left all alone in the tree with nothing but glistening blood and the scraps of the circus to join him the night seemed to drag. There were no songs of animals, no wind carrying the words of nature. No it was a night devoid of any company or solace, he was left with his thoughts. That was until Eli and E would show up near the beginning of dawn. "Josiah, pssst, hop on down...' the sprite would try to urge. "You gotta hurry, when the townsfolk come back they might not be as kind.

Eli tried to urge the boy to join them, to get him to come down from this makeshift prison. There was no one keeping here, at least not one that could be seen. Still, there was no need to stay when they had nothing but trouble. There was still the ball they had to get to, there was only a couple days and it was not an event to miss.

Only one more post until the skip to the ball 48 hours

The rush. The overwhelming force of power that he had felt flowing through him caused the giant to blink for a few moments. The last few words that he had heard Sparrow say to him caused him to well up with power but he had no way to release. Looking at the staff he looked, wanted any form of instruction to come to him but something else had poked and prodded. Asking him to speak to the rukh itself he would take in a deep breath and push away the chaotic noise of the battlefield and the fight around him. His senses went from the vivid and bloody battlefield to a room of white. Inside Surtr could feel himself floating but as he looked to the left he could see another...a icy blue haired male. Smiling both halves would see that they were one and the same. The boy with the memories of another world, and the Giant who had strove for a life that the other could not have.

For a moment the Rukh would continue to swirl as both pairs of eyes looked around, searching for the answer. The door to the world that would unlock the power flowing in his hands. He had been no magician but he had heard stories of those who were chosen. Surtr had been chosen. The one known as Rou would pat the giant on the back guiding him on and taking a hand into his as he smiled," You know the answer. You know the path. This your moment...our moment. Let's show them what we can do. Accept this as your new calling."

As the giant nodded a door would appear and to this side the blue haired male was no more. Floating he would push every ounce of his being toward the door resolved to do what he had to. To save his family. To save those fighting for freedom. He accepted it all. Nothing would stop him now. Blinking his mind would return to the battlefield. His eyes began to light at first with the pure white of the rukh before taking on a gentle red hue as he held the stave high into the air and released its power. He would see the final stand of their foes and raise them one more as he used the power of the staff...of the flowing knowledge and power and flowed in him to take back the battlefield once and for all.

As the magician would fall amongst this act of defiance it seemed that many were caught in silence as they were unsure how to react to a cascading end of such violence. As the great horn gave it's last song the bodies that clashed, those who fought for their lives and those who had theirs stolen would form a spire of violence as it seemed the action only brought them higher. Gamigan held his staff proudly, the giant boy should have had some confidence in the way the world spoke to him. His fire was hotter than what they had felt. Still, there would be more time to explore this later.

What felt like forever would be over sooner than they could expect. Black tendrils fell to the ground amongst shattered carriages and weeping bodies. The Asura seemed to focus on the body of David's priest. Gabriel had his strength taken from him, now he had to ensure that his breath was taken as well. The people of Sabnock gathered, many broken, stuck in shock at what they had just endured. There was the fear of what would come next, no one had ever stood up to the orthodoxy. To see someone attempt it and succeed would shock their minds. It gave some hope to this meeting that they were going to.


The boy was quiet, potentially in the loss and how it had shaken him. A prison of thorns and strangling branches in the pale moonlight had to be maddening. They had left him with just his thoughts and of course, the fear that the people of the town might enact a harsher justice upon him. E, while silent was quick when it came to taking action. Eli kept watch as the young warrior scaled up the bloody willow, grabbing Josiah with strong arms, leaping down with a feather step.

"Come on, I think it's time we take a long walk to this manor..." Eli would say. He was just glad that their lady had to be fine, for her to be amongst this chaos would be tragic. She had much sympathy for those under the Orthodoxy's thumb, her people had only brought tales of it. E's people had seen it within his lifetime. Eli's parents had told him detailed stories of what they did with dissenters. These towers they wished to erect were much more terrifying than even a whole forest of these slaughter trees no matter how grim that sounded. They had to get moving, to make it to the grand ball.

At long last it had been over. The battle had reached its climax as Surtr stood tall, staff in hand and smiled for a moment. This was the overwhelming feeling of victory that he had long wanted to taste. The words of the world stood tall in his mind as he brought the staff closer to him, nodding to the gift he had been given. As the last of the enemy had fallen Surtr would once again take his spear into his hands and move over toward his brothers, bringing his new friend? Comrade? Person with him. Checking on Gola first he would assure his brother had been fine before going to see out Ymir to find out what all they had lost. For the battle, the thumb of the orthodoxy had been removed from their throats but now...would another threat loom over them? Only time would tell. In the meantime, Surtr would assist in the efforts to help with the finding of soliders and tending to their needs, even as a giant he could still assist in some way unless his brother had other plans. As the day slowly turned into night, Surtr would continue his efforts into making sure those that had fallen to this battle were celebrated and put to rest, and in the back of his mind knew this was only another knotch in his belt.

It was in a city of no name, one that seemed to be formed in the night by the hands of a kind of magic. Their invitation had only given coordinates, where they could go and when they arrived they would find a wide temple adorned in alabaster, gold, and robin blue. Carpets of the same calming azul had adorned their arrival. While many who seemed to be arrived were worse for wear it seemed as if there was some clamor near the doors as people were being looked over. There weren't many attendants outside but there were great statues of trumpeteers which hummed with gentle music.

The party from the city of Sabnock had found their way there with the help of Gamigan and the rebel forces. Surtr had taken a golden stave, and the young sparrow had seen the true power of the magic she held, that humans could command in this world. With that knowledge, they could grasp how big it was that there were people here who had not only stood up to David's brightest but they've also beaten them as well. Still, while they had stood up to atrocity and won, there were at least twenty who suffered for each victor.

Josiah and his party who would be meeting up with Murmurr near the front of the group new better than most the kinds of atrocities they could commit. The tree of blood was a lingering memory for many as plenty tried to make merry. It was a hard time for more than just their group, while plenty seemed jubilant at the idea of a ball, of a better battle it was far from all. Even those who had seen victors, who had seen the strength had fear and worry turning their hands and shaking their nerves.

No, it was likely that they and many others would not find peace until the charades were over and business was discussed. It was a great moment of escape, and while many would be lost in what was to come there were more than wanted answers. Still, before those would arrive the participants themselves had to answer a question upon arrival at the open doors of their host's grand palace.

An individual in a white suit and crane mask waited for them. With the voice of a cold river, they asked [color=#6633ff]"What is it you wish to be, how do you wish to grace the ball?["/color] It was a simple look into desire so that they could be put into the perfect outfit, they were going to be in it for quite some time so it was only natural that every person needed to be comfortable and satisfied.

Next post in 48 hours