Bloodlines of the Holy War(HoBo)

[Gafe]

"To tell such blatant lies is not a wise way to act."
Muscles tensed, eyes calculating, and bow strung, the Makarene Prince walked up behind this... this... "Flik Stormrage". A phony name to go, hand in hand, with a phony shuffling of words. What sort of sloppy assassin had they sent? One that spoke pure nonsense and a flurry of terrible excuses; hopefully it spoked, too, of Hao's overall ability. Nikhil knew, however, that this was not so.
"You'll have to do better than that to get the Princess, 'Hereditor'." Liquid mockery coated the threat. There were two arrows set into the Prince's bow. He was all but joking around.

To a certain degree, however, he was impressed. Nikhil had awakened by midnight to roam around the Inn. He'd made sure there was none spying on Lenne's room or his own, nor anyone acting suspiciously int he immediate vicinity. After making sure, he had gone back to bed. Since morning, he had spent some time with Ferd, discussing options and whatnot, and soon thereafter left to make sure his arrangements were flowing smoothly. They happened to be.
Nikhil had not been gone for more than half an hour and already there was a man trying to shove his way into Lenne's mind with nicely ornamented words, but words that lacked any kind of depth to them. Stealthy and quick? Yes, Flik - were that to be his real name - was those. Clever? Not so much.

"Listen here, 'Hereditor', this might come in as news for you, but Falablaze was lost by Joachim himself. None have been able to call themselves Hereditor to that house since then." By that time, Nikhil's glare had been sharp already, but pronouncing these words made reduced his eyes to mere slits. "Second of all, King Mananan does not know where we are headed - I made sure of that. Of course, a spy might've picked up on that already, am I wrong?"
The Prince allowed himself a small grin of satisfaction.

"Now give me two good reasons why I should not let these arrows fly straight into your back, spy."

[Gafe]

The last thing Ima would've ever let anyone see was her own defeat. So far, it'd been a good thing that Shudin hadn't really looked at her. But by now, the Silhouette Scatter had taken a heavy toll on her, thick droplets of sweat permeated her brow. She was struggling to keep up her usual, energetic facade, as she looked over the second-story rail. As Shudin spoke, her lips broke into a grin, only to be broken again by heavy panting.

"What're we waiting for, then? Let's jump!" Said and done, Ima took hold of Shudin's arm and jumped the short distance that separated them from their destination height-wise. Bad move. As they both landed (rather gracefully, what with being trained nomads), Ima could not tolerate the burden anymore and her shadow returned to its usual position underneath her. Both Shudin and her were left without cover, the only blanket over them being the night's darkness. And it wasn't very dark either.

Shudin's previous observation had been accurate enough. From their previous position no guards appeared to be about, but from their new location, their eyes were open to some scattered soldiers here and there.
Ima, not about to apologize, raised a finger to her lips, signaling her Master to be quiet. Shivans were usually quiet, they were trained to slink around and be unnoticed. Too many people felt irrational hatred for them and they had found the means to survive. Even as Shudin and Ima stepped on thick blades of grass, their feet made barely any sound at all.
They just about tiptoed to the docks, and as soon as they got there, Ima impatiently jumped into the one she judged the fastest, unable to resist a "Hah!"
Their luck had thus far been too good to last. Of course several guards heard her through the dead of night. "C'mon, Master, we need to leave now!"

No doubt, they'd now be followed in the river as well.

[Flik Falablazes Fury]

Flik could sense the tension in the air, and no doubt Brigid was enjoying watching the Bard squirm. It made sense though, they had split ways once reaching Jungvy, and only she could sense his hereditor spark, even if he could only acknowledge it.

"Prince, It's a pity you've had to draw those arrows on me." Flik spoke, as it seemed his daggers hanging from his wrists began to glow a rather unnatural red...it seemed as if they were smoking---the same glaze met his eyes as well.

In what appeared to be a rather small explosion in the room---far more distracting than damaging-- Flik backflipped into the hallway as Nikhil's arrows burst into flame. His mark was next to perfect. That was one of the most beautiful and destructive aspects of flame magic manipulation. It was always easy to start a fire, but to control it...even to put it out...that would be quite hard.
"So are you ready to listen, Cur of a Prince? Or shall you still try to voice your discontent for Brigid being the Hereditor? Surely you cannot be pleased that when the time comes, it is her name which will be chanted---and not your own. You will forever live in the shadow of your Bastard sibling." Flik laughed a bit, obviously his time as a bard over the years gave him a bit of a sharp tongue.

"Besides, Prince. If I was a spy, or working for someone else...why would I have taken the time to introduce myself? Let alone use flashy magic when I could have just killed you when you went to sleep last night? You'd be surprised how easily inns like these burn." Flik spoke, backhandspringing down the stairs.

"Everyone, there's a fire upstairs. Get out before the flames catch you. Hurry!" He spoke, generating a spark to have one of the tables catch flame. "Hurry it isn't safe. Value your lives and flee! I'll deal with these vermin!" He spoke, turning his head back up the stairs
The barkeep seconded that sentiment.
"You heard the man, run! Grab valuables and get out of here."

Within moments, the downstairs had been emptied out leaving only the two hereditors and their guardians upstairs.

Smiling a bit, Flik waved his Auigrand, putting out the flames on the first floor. "Now for a drink." He smiled, he knew that the Prince upstairs would try to think up some scheme to escape...or to challenge the Flame Magus directly. Either way, Flik had time for a few drinks....one or three.

[Shorik]

Shudin sighed as he jumped in the boat. Taking a quick glance back, some soldiers had been alerted, and were either chasing after them now, or running back to the fortress.. likely for reinforcements...
"Yeah, let's get out of here!" Shudin said, as he untied the rope binding the boat to the dock. He then took a paddle, and used it to push the boat away from the dock. The river was fairly calm tonight, making navigating easier.

As the two Shivans started paddling the boat forward, Shudin felt and heard a couple arrows whiz right past them. He looked back to see a few boats of Persephians guards following them. From what the Shivan could tell, their boats had more men on them, allowing them to paddle quicker... This wasn't really looking good...
We need a way to speed up...
Shudin looked around their boat frantically, for anything that could help them. He then realized they had a sail. Shudin licked his finger and put it to the air to test the wind direction, only to discover there was barely even a light breeze.
What I wouldn't give for a wind mage right now...
Shudin then remembered back in his childhood, his father had him train with a wind mage breifly to test his magic potential. Shudin had barely managed to conjur a small breeze, but according to the wind mage, he at least had the potential to cast magic. Shudin hadn't really trained himself with the art, but there was no time like the present..
"Here goes nothing.." he muttered, concentrating on the air around him. He imagined it moving forward, with some power. He then tried to luanch the spell...

A quick gust of wind hit the sail, propelling Ima and shudin's boat forward by a near-comfortable distance. The Shivan Major smiled at his success, now resuming his paddling.
"You think they'll keep coming?" he asked Ima.

[Eva]

Brigid watched the confrontation with seemingly little interest. She merely stood there, but she positioned herself directly in front of Lenne. If Nikhil or Flik did decide to do something, she'd be ready to jump in and resolve it. Either way, it was her job to keep the girl safe, and she was pretty good at what she did.

After Flik's display, Brigid looked at her brother and shrugged. "He's telling the truth. "Fire's all show. I bet if the princess wasn't such a sap she'd be able to put him on his backside." Lenne let out a low noise next to her, maybe a squeak, as if the idea of fighting was so scary. "Oh, calm down. We're not gonna make you fight anyone." Brigid snapped. She looked at her brother then. "I know your pride is hurt, whatever. It's not like he can do anything. There's four of us- three, really, if you don't count this girl- and the only leg up the bard has is that he's a Hereditor- which, mind you, we have two of." Brigid explained. "And that's just if we fight. I say we just pick up our beans and walk out of here. If we stay and fight, some kind of authority might show up after a while- and we don't want that." Just as Brigid finished her sentence, Ferd ran into the room, calm but rushed. "Fire. More than that. Deetva's soldiers. I saw them on my way up here. They didn't recognize me." he said. Brigid raised her eyebrow. "That problem will solve itself. I'm sure that they intend to rut out the source of the fire- the bard. Either way, I'm sure they won't notice us. Get your things, it's time to go."



A paladin's duty was to help the people.
By guiding them to safety or by dealing with the danger directly.

And Deetva was much better at direct things.
This little shanty of an inn had acted as her 'eyes' for quite a while, ever since that fort had become obsolete. She did not jump to conclusions, nor did she leap into action when she heard the chaos. But it was obvious that something wasn't right. A fire? Nothing serious- not by a longshot. Yes, there was trickery afoot.

And one must wake up very early in the morning to pull wool over a paladin's eyes.

Along with the knights she had with her, less than half a dozen, Deetva left the room that they had been using for these past few days, weapons in hand. They all drew their swords as they descended the steps and into the empty inn floor. They saw, of course, only one person. "Go sweep for anyone else still present in the inn. Upstairs." Deetva said to one of her soldiers. The man nodded and jogged back up the stairs. "I do not like to spill blood on foreign soil. But you are clearly no mere Makarene." she said quietly. Deetva flicked her fingers in several directions, very quickly, and her soldiers followed the orders. They spread out around the small room, not quite surrounding the man but not giving him much room, either. "We know you have interacted with the Princess, and that she has been here. Tell us where she is." Deetva said. Her eyes remained completely focused on the man. He was potentially dangerous, and he could most likely do a great deal of harm to her soldiers- but that was a necessary risk. The paladin's code swore her to do no less than what was absolutely necessary.

And she would.

[Vale]

Flik rolled his eyes as he leisurely slung a jug from one of his fingers. Lazily moving his head to the woman Paladin.
"You assume to much. I am but a humble bard. Singing tales of conquest and debauchery. If I have had such a meeting, surely it would have been in more...private matters." He smiled as he blinked slowly, simultaneously sliding out one of his Bracelets. "Spilling blood? Paladin you are too cross." He smiled once more as the fire erupted from the staircase, making any more passage to the upstairs very...difficult for anyone garbed in heavy armor.

"You aim to intimidate me. Yet you should have brought more people. Look around you, we're in a wooden shoddy Inn, in the Makar Lowlands, it hasn't rained in a few weeks, and there is alcohol all around you." Flik smiled once more. "If I wanted this place incinerated, it would have been moments ago and I would have made my escape. My apologies about your knight who had the misfortune of leaving the safety of this floor. That's the problem with fire, powerful and effective...but hard to be controlled." Flik smiled, "a lot like love, isn't it? It's the perfect metaphor actually. I should sing about that." He smiled once more, fiddling with his bracelets once more. Slowly, he placed the jug of extremely alcoholic liquid down on the bar where he was sitting.

"So would you like a song, Lady Paladin? One of lost love, of horrid duty, a love of a Kingdom. Or is it fear of a kingdom? No matter. Songs are to sooth the stirs of passion. My name is Faeliz Stolenbach the XXIII, how may I be of service?"

[Eva]

Deetva twirled her sword. She slowly approached the man. "You talk too much." she said softly. Across the room, one of the knights put her sword away and stood ready. She sent out a gust of wind from her fingertips, knocking the bard forward. Deetva dashed forward and brought her elbow down on the bard's head. "Go to sleep, 'simple bard'. You will be of service soon." she said. "Tie him up. Silve, go help Prazza." Deetva stepped to the side while her paladins went about casting the binding spell. This bard may very well be just a traveling stooge, albeit one with decent powers, but the risk was well worth it. This inn would burn down into nothingness. By the time any Makarene forces arrived, there would be no evidence of her presence.


As the scene downstairs unfolded, the Jacinthan knight Prazza struggled to put out the fire before him. He had no magical training, and his armor made it impossible to traverse the weakening steps. "Stand back, Prazza." One of his fellow knights said as she ran up to him. She sent a torrent of water from her fingertips, dulling the flames slightly. "I'll go scan the upstairs. Go and help the others with the captive." the knight, Silve, ordered. Prazza nodded and did as he was told while Silve sprinted up the stairs, causing them to creak and nearly collapse under her. Her armor was heavy, but not as heavy as Prazza's- still a risk.

[Vale]

Flik was dazed but not out yet.
"So there is no honour amongst your kind." He spat, his arms slowly becoming heavier, and his movements becoming sluggish. Their spells were effective, he had to give them that.
"Allow me to demonstra..." His voice was becoming laboured, their spells were definitely effective. As a bard, Flik had taken many blows before---in bar fights, from angry husbands, and from drunkards as well. This woman wasn't the worst he's faced.

In a sluggish Motion, he slammed his foot against the wooden floor, sending sparks out from around him---enough to catch the jug and some of the more alcohol soaked areas ablaze. He would most likely get caught by these 'paladins', foreigners, they were dogs of war. But it wouldn't be now, and since his best bet for finding Falablaze was the Princess upstairs, he'd be sure to make sure that this force of knights would never make it up those stairs. His only hope was that he'd be able to stall them enough to make their escape.

Still, it seemed he didn't consider what exactly was beneath the inn---he had thought it would just be a subcellar with corn meal, flour, maybe some more jugs of alcohol. And really, he was only half right.

His body, now fully under their containment spell, was stiff...but so long as they didn't entirely put out the flames upstairs he'd have a fighting chance to hold them off. There was something about that Princess...she had a certain aire to her, one in which inspired the bard to defend her from these paladins.

Shortly after, he could hear the Paladins carrying him back up to the main floor, his body paralyzed from their collective spellwork. Regardless of his standing as a Flame Magus of Joaquim, he couldn't fend himself against 4 or 5 paladins all binding him at once. Not unless he wanted to bring the entire building down on them...but what would that solve? All that mattered was that they escaped to Itzla...and only that.

"One day...Paladin." Flik was barely squeeking---it was all he could do. "You and your entire Kingdom will burn, for taking in a Son of Falablaze." And with that, only darkness.

[Eva]

"What the-" Prazza barely had two words out when a large explosion wracked behind him, killing him more or less instantly. "Incompetent idiots!" Deetva growled. That blow should've knocked him out, and yet he labored on. And now one of her knights was dead! "Keep him completely bound! Anti-magic, no movement, every damn thing you have! He's no ordinary bard." Deetva snapped. One of the knights tried to extinguish the flames around them while the rest, along with Deetva, went about casting as many containment spells on the bard as possible. "Forget the flames. Let's get out of here while we still can." Deetva said. The princess probably wasn't in the building anyway, and once the bard was awake they would question him. They didn't have time to rescue Silve, but that was a risk of the life of a paladin. She and Prazza would be missed.

Upstairs, the female knight held her arms before her in case any flames sprouted out as she dashed through the hall, throwing doors open. When she reached the last one, she immediately knew that she had found what she needed. She pulled her sword out and pointed it at the four people. "I am-" Beneath Silve, fire erupted up, giving the floor away. The paladin nearly fell through, barely clinging to the remaining planks.

"Out the window!" Brigid shouted. She threw it open and practically shoved Lenne through. "Lay low." she added before the princess went through. As Brigid helped Lenne out, Ferd walked forward and extended his hand to the knight. "Come on." he said. The girl squeezed her eyes and took his hand. "Nikhil, Ferd, other girl, let's GO!" Brigid screamed.

[Vale]

Flik's mind drifted in and out of consciousness, he was being dragged away from the Inn. What had overtaken him? Not the Paladin's magic...what did he call himself...
Son of Falablaze

What a silly memory. A group of fanatics looking for something which may not even exist anymore...it was insanity....

No more insane than being dragged out of an inn by attractive Lady Paladin. Hmph.

Then again, he was searching for Falablaze as well. Maybe he shouldn't keep on the run from them. They had found him and Tressa, hundreds of miles from Joachim, and they had been pursuing him all over. Maybe it was time to stop running....maybe.

"Flik. You are the Hereditor of Joachim. It is your duty to restore peace and order to the Nation. It is your birthright!" Allastor had told him, many, many times. They were so young then.
"Just like yours? Allastor, you're not even from Joachim. You're Tupan. Why don't you just go back? Isn't it your duty to Lead your Nation one day?" Flik would always retort back.
"Tupa doesn't need me. One day, I will go back. But that day is not today, nor is it tomorrow. Joachim needs you on this day, it will need you tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. We will not stop Lord Flik. We will find Falablaze and prove your birthright." Allastor spoke, bowing his head. "On my life, and on my honor."

They were just kids...who would have known where things would wind up.





Allastor had watched the blaze of glory continue onwards on the dainty little inn.
"Brushfire it seems." One of the Knights with him dispassionately said, "a pity.."
Allastor reached back and backhanded the Knight with the back of a gloved hand.
"Silence. Inn's don't catch fire like that. It was him" Allastor spoke, rising from his knee to gaze off in the distance. It seemed like people were fleeing as the fire kept going.

"Lord Stormrage, the rumors of Flik's location were confirmed, he was in Jungvy. This..." another backhand silenced him.
"He's left Jungvy Castle. It grows faster than it burns, it doesn't suit him."
"My lord." another Knight knelt before Allastor. "...of the two scouts sent, they confirmed that a Bard was staying in that inn, as well as several other guests. Apparently a Regiment of Foreign Knights have also joined in combat against them."
"Very good Zaldin." Allastor spoke, placing his right hand on the warrior's shoulder. "You've done well. Rest now." Allastor spoke, as he walked over to a horse and mounted it.

"I need two more. Zaldin, ensure that Kyo rests and hopefully regains some confidence. The Sons of Falablaze do not need any nonbelievers." Allastor spoke, eying the conflict a mile away. "Actually, only one other will come with me." With that, he kicked his horse and they sprinted on their way.

In less than 2 minutes they were close enough, coming to a Trot Allastor could hear the sounds of magic being casted...he could feel it...and it burned the insides of him.
"...Paladins..." He spoke, his teeth gritting as he continued the light trot to the inferno of an inn.

Dismounting, he sent the horse on it's way back to the campsite off in the distance.

"If you don't mind me asking..." Allastor spoke, drawing his claymore and holding it over his shoulder. "You haven't seen a bard around here, have you?" Allastor asked one of the Paladins with an insane grin upon his face.

There Will be Blood.

[TragicAce]

Rocky ridges and mountains of a more violent Eastern landscape yielded uneasily to lopsided hills and hedges. Away were the ocean winds-that cool and familiar breeze every Lisaon knew since birth-in favor of a more stagnant, humid air. Amongst a well-traveled path two new sets of hooves made their way Westward, though in no particularly hurry. Birds of several species filled the world with their beautiful morning ballads and with the exception of the occasional Tupan-bound merchant the two riders were in peace. A lazy day spent on horseback would not be so terrible. That was the way of thought in the countryside between Persephis and Tupa. Well, the exception being anyone unfamiliar with horseriding.

“By the Gods, my thighs will chafe crimson if I must ride this beast any longer!” Indeed, all was in place in this ideal country landscape save for the two individuals concerned. They were foreigners and royalty to boot—far more fit on a veranda then on a saddle. The pair were completely out of place in this undeveloped, bug-ridden and untamed wilds. And those blasted swallows! Would they every give their beaks a second’s rest? And while Arvay kept his thoughts to himself, his companion felt no such restraint. Indeed, she was quite vocal in expressing her unsatisfaction. Most women are.

“I’ve got a headache, I’m hungry, I’m tired, my ass hurts like a devil and I’ve got bug bites in places I wasn’t even aware of. If this isn’t one of the inner rings of hell then I don’t know what is!” Idine, usually ladylike, usually in smug indifference became the near opposite in this setting so unlike what she was used too. Arvay couldn’t hold in a grin at seeing her at her weakest. Seeing her so...out-of-control-of-things. She always did live in her own little world, and the knight took a great hidden joy in her displeasure. It was probably a sin. Regardless Idine didn’t fail to notice that smirk of Arvay's that she knew so well. How long ago was it since she last saw him wear it? Fonder memories lessened the force of her reprimand:

“You’ve said not a word to me all day and now you sit there with such a wicked smile, while your lady is suffering? What kind of ‘Templar Commander’ are you?!” Lady Idine didn’t pout often but when she did, she always made is excessively clear that it was your fault. Arvay never noticed before but at times like this Idine seemed so uncharacteristically cute. “It was you who wanted so badly to join me, my lady. Forgive me if the outside world is not as pampered as you had imagined.” The two carried on in their arguing that turned to lighthearted bickering and became less about insulting the other and more a playful attempt at passing the time. The knight had let his guard down once again, though adorned his armor in an instant when the conversation turned towards the Apostle. He closed his lips and his mind as Idine silently cursed that she triggered his ‘unquestioned obedience’ persona. They would be in Makar by the time he had loosened himself once more.

At midday the two decided to rest their horses and eat a meal of fresh Tupan trout, bread and several cheeses. Idine thought she was going to starve to death before Arvay had finished the mealtime prayer. While that might have wooed her sister and any eccentric follower, Idine’s religious fervor was far surpassed by her stomach’s yearnings. A large merchant’s wagon pulled upon them and a plump bald man by the name of (Idine gave no care to remember) exchanged pleasantries. The gentleman apparently worked for a tailor in Parvati, and was selling wears to fit the political season. To tie a red wrapping around one’s sword hilt meant he was Hao’s man, while white meant he supported the Princess Lenne. The sellsman admitted red was more popular, but that he’d give the two a fair price for whichever they choose.

“Making coin off a bit of political turmoil, are we? This tailor of yours is as wise as any king.” Idine gave a sharp remark, both chiding and praising the cleverness at making coin in a time of unrest. Arvay could not be so easygoing on the matter. Idine might not realize this but the two of them represented the whole of Lisao, a more real presence on this continent then the Gods themselves. And which side to support…such a silly choice of color could determine the future and safety of all the Lisao people. His companion could notice his unease from where she stood. It was a choice that had to be made, but so soon? "What side will he pick, red or white?"

“I would like one of both, good sir. The nation of Lisao supports all men and women who walk in the Light, the good people that choose righteousness over greed. The Church is above political maundering and will not be used as a tool for some bureaucratic leverage.” And while Arvay didn’t yell, his voice held a power that seemed to shake the ground beneath him. It was the roar of pure conviction. The merchant nodded meekly and gave him the fabrics free of charge.

The two continued on, the knight’s sword hilt now adorned in red and white.

[Vale]

Flik's mind continued to sift through memories while in his currently incapacitated state outside of the inn, secure in his magical bindings---both physical and wards against his Auigrand. If it weren't for both, he'd be able to get out of one or the other. This Paladin knew her tricks to fight Magus's.

And yet his mind began to reflect.
Ember's End, North District of the Crimson Castle Grounds. Twelve Years Ago...

"Lord Flizis, you must continue your studies. Of the 5 Districts of the city, Ember's End is the only one not ablaze. It's the only district not warring with the others. Only because of the fact your father is King Alzis. " Flik's handmaid kept reminding the young Pyromancer. Every day it was the same thing, "Get dressed, brush your hair, Maintain the Flame Wall around Ember's End, Bathe, eat, study, study, study, pay homage to your father." It bored the young Flik.
"Liadrin. Why do you keep working for us? You're not one of our family, and we do not own your family or anything of the sort?" Flik would always ask her.
"You are my duty. Your upbringing is the sole importance in my life, and I cannot fail. My life belongs to the Stormrage Family." Liadrin solemnly replied.
"But I'm not a Stormrage." Flik retorted, tossing his crimson hair back in distress.
"Sire, Stormrage is a title. You've been given that title the moment you were taken in by this Family. It is a title kept for powerful fighters. They have high hopes for you because of your blood." Liadrin smiled, making slight vampire noises.
"Stop it Liadrin, I'm just like everyone else, I don't see what the big fuss is about."
"My lord, your blood is not a Major's blood, and it resonates differently than a minor or a normal person's blood. It is suspected that you are a Joachim Hereditor."Liadrin's voice was hushed as someone came in. He looked around Flik's age, and had a strange feel to him. Flik could remember it was similar. He felt close to this person.
"Liadrin, isn't there something else you could be doing?" He barked, he lacked the sympathy in his voice that Flizis had.
"Yes, Lord Allastor. Right away." Liadrin quickly hurried out of the room.
As she passed by him, he glared directly at Flik.

"Hopefully you are a Hereditor...Joachim needs it right now." His voice, this Allastor, seemed sympathetic to Flik. "Else it seems we don't have that much time." He spoke, turning on his heel. "After all, you're a Son of Falablaze now. Your life is all about it now." He finished, just barely out the door. "Else you're too scared to find it and realize your destiny."

Flik never particularly liked Allastor, but if it meant that they would be able to bring down the flame wall around Ember's End, and break the cycle of his daily routine...Flik would do about anything.


Two years later, Lukiel Tundra.....

Flik was 16, and Allastor 17. Rumors surfaced of a Flame Magus using very powerful magic against Lukiel's Frost Lancers and they were sent to investigate on behalf of the SoF.

"Think about it Flik, if this guy is the Hereditor...we've no sense keeping you around." Allastor joked, punching Flik in the arm.
"Please. You couldn't survive on your own without me. Besides, you know as I do, that I'm the Hereditor." Flik joked, punching him back.
"I've been wrong before, not every Hereditor can identify another that easily. Especially those who have not come into contact with their Weapon yet. Meaning even Hereditors cannot identify the True Hereditor of Joachim." Allastor spoke, as he stepped into a giant puddle. "What the...?"

The two looked up, it seemed as though they had found a lake in the middle of a frozen Tundra.

"It seems as though someone decided to melt the snow...and the ground here." Flik spoke, his Auigrand glowing a bit, a clear identifier that Flame Magic had been used.
"Good, I've been itching for real combat." Allastor spoke, drawing his spear from his back. They said it was as strong as Holtupa, but not nearly as effective. Nor magical for that reason. Something of a 'Training Spear' given to him by King Vector of Tupa, so that when the time came he could rule, ready with a spear in hand.
"We're here to observe Allastor, not engage." Flik reminded him.
"Yeah, well then observe me see if this is the real deal or not." Allastor laughed, even at a young age he was as reckless as he was dangerous. Paired with the calm Flizis, they were quite the team.

"Halt! Identify yourselves." Someone garbed in White mounted on a horse had managed to get the jump on the two travelers.
Flik spoke, "We're traveling through the area and seemed to have been caught off track by this...lake? What happened here? It isn't on our map..."
"Oh, Young Men.' The Lancer seemed at ease slightly. Just...underestimation. "A week ago this strange man from Joachim had melted an entire division of Lancers as well as their Ice Battalion. This is what's left."
"Do you happen to know if the man had a book with him? A Tome of sorts?"Flik asked, seemingly more worried than intrigued.
"Reports say he had a very old one...wait...how would you know this?" On alert.
"Most uh....fire...mages, or uh...casters use uh...tomes?" Flik was losing his cool.
"Your hair...those daggers...You're in league with the man aren't you!" The man began to turn his horse around and head off, obviously going to report the two....Allastor wasn't going to let that happen.

In a quick motion, Allastor had lunged the spear into, and out of the Horse's neck, bringing it to the ground and tossing the Lancer off.
"Who...who are you two?" He was stumbling in the snow...obviously inexperienced. Error three.
"We're no one, Ghosts." Allastor spoke, spilling his crimson blood all over the fresh snow.
"Quite a scene Allastor...He isn't going to like this." Flik warned him.
"Enough talk Flizis. You may be a Stormrage in title, but I am in rank. I earned my place. Your's was given." Allastor spoke, washing his spear in the water of the melted lake. "I will not be spoken down to by you."


Lukiel Highlands, 2 weeks later, the Duo had tracked down this Rogue Pyromancer to a Cliff overlooking the North Sea.

Flinging fireball after fireball, Flik moved from one to the other, cutting and dissociating the mana stored into them into his bracelets. Allastor forcing him closer and closer to the cliffs.
Exhausted the man could barely breathe.
"Who...are...you. What...do you want...with me?"
Flik spoke up, "We are the Sons of Falablaze, and we're here for your tome. We saw your work a few weeks back. How did you do it?"
The man stopped, intrigued that they were not entirely after his life, instead he began to chuckle. "You think I have Falablaze? Hahaha"
Allastor cut his laughter short. "Either you have it, and will give it to us. Or we will ensure that your reign ends now. The choice is yours."
The man kept laughing afterward. "Falablaze has been missing for Centuries, and the power contained within it's pages are Legendary. I am no Hereditor, I was the Joachim Major...a long time ago. Alzis cast me out. Said my tactics were too harsh. His flame is weak, it is tempered. Flickering." He coughed a bit, obviously running out of air from his effort. "Besides, only two people could hold their own against me. King Alzis, and a Hereditor of Joachim."
Allastor gazed over to Flik, the young Magus unwavering.
"So," The man paused, "I will not be taken down by the Lapdogs of a Coward!" He shouted, sending out a wave of flame out of the space around his body.

Flik jumped forward, slashing with his Auigrand to part the wave slightly so he and Allastor would remain only slightly tinged.

The Major however, was fully ablaze. It seemed he created a suit of flame out of the area around him. Fully ready to engage the two fledgling Hereditors. Lunging foward, Allastor tried to stab him quickly with his spear...only to have it melt entirely, inches away from The Major's Physical body.
"Pathetic boy. You're only alive because He is here. Burn for your insolence!" He shouted, ready to extend the flames to around Allastor.

Reacting quickly, Flik leaped foward, releasing all of the charged power directly out of his Bracelets, discharging a bright blue flame out of them, and shooting directly through the Major's Flame Body.

"The...Auigrand..."The Major's flame body subsided, revealing the entire left side of his torso and left arm had been charred black. Burned to the bone. "So it's you..." His last words unheard as he fell from the cliff and into the Raging North Sea behind him.

"You...saved me." Allastor spoke, gasping for breath and his face sweating profusely. "Why?"
"The journey to Joachim would be a long one to make by myself. Let's go." Flik spoke...it was the first time he had ever taken another life. It was a sickening feeling. A dark feeling.

[Eva]

Deetva had the bard slung over one of the extra horses. She felt a deep sickness to see the bard on Prazza's horse. It was like a whore wearing a priest's robes. "He told us his name at some point." one of her paladins said. Deetva nodded. "Send his name to Cigyun, and see if she can get some kind of information on him. He must know something." she ordered. They were down two paladins, but overall they were fine. Prazza and Silve would be missed, but they would survive. While three of the paladins got into a circle and chanted something. Deetva twirled her blade and thought.

Deetva noticed a man approaching her, armed, with a less than friendly look. She casually tapped her sword three times against its scabbard, while wearing her most welcoming smile. "I have no information for you. This area is being investigated by the Paladins of Jacintho. You may leave now." Deetva stood with her legs apart, solid and straightforward. The other three would guard the bard, hopefully.

[Vale]

Allastor smiled a bit, swinging his sword downward from his shoulder...a mix between intimidation and practicality, and stabbed the ground with it.
"Paladins of Jacintho? Funny, we're a bit far from Jacintho, aren't we? I was looking fer' a place to stay since these highlands are pretty dry. Seems this inn's a bit of a pike isn't it?" Allastor's voice slowly shifting to something more...rural, than his usual brash Tupan voice.

Leaning a bit on his blade, he made no attempt to mask the fact he was surveying the 4 Paladins, especially keeping his attention to the Paladin who addressed him. Obviously she was in charge, or at least placed into such a position.
"Despite the dry heat, it wouldn't be enough to cause a nice speakin' place like tha' tae go upen' flames." He gestured with his free hand to the charred exterior of the inn. "I'll ask again." His voice switched tones once more, seemingly more....tropical this time around.

"So, have you seen him?" His eyes fixed on the body thrown over the horse. "Has quite a bit of red hair and funny looking bracelets."

The only thing sharper than Allastor's sword was his gaze fixed upon the body over the horse.

[Eva]

Deetva followed the man's eyes and knew that the charade was over. "Yes, we captured a man matching that description. He burned down this inn, killing two of my knights and possibly others. The other patrons of the inn have fled into the woods, and shouldn't be too far away if you need to ask them about what happened. Jacintho's Fair Jurisdiction treaty with Makar allows our paladins to administer justice in this area. As for why we are here, that is simply none of your business."



Meanwhile, the four 'adventurers' and their new paladin guest jumped from the collapsing roof of the inn and onto the soft grass below. Brigid made sure that everyone's things were accounted for while the others reoriented themselves. "I hear voices. All of you stay here. I'm more world-wise than any of you." she ordered, laying her hand on Lenne's shoulder before running off. She immediately knew that she had made a bad choice when she saw Deetva, though. "Deetva! You moss-headed bitch! You sent that bard, didn't you!?" Brigid shouted as she fitted an arrow into her bow's string. The other three paladins were armed in seconds, ready to strike if Brigid let loose her arrow. Deetva did not take her eyes off the man before her, though. "I did no such thing. We have the captured the bard, and we were here purely by coincidence." she replied. Brigid laughed. "Paladins and chance don't make sense together." she barked. "And who the hell is that?"