Sheringham (Join by request)

Sade · Rogue Joined: 23 Jul 2009 Posts: 63

(OOC: This continues immediately after the events of Evoncar's Malice)

Having only just repelled an invasion by Lord Evoncar and now facing a snowstorm unseasonable to the point of absurdity, most of the denizens of Sheringham wanted nothing more than to retreat into their homes and ignore the outside world. The streets were nearly deserted, anyone still outside was busily making repairs to the perimeter wall or aiding the defense effort in some other way. At an unremarkable intersection, one of many in the city, a brilliantly white tendril of energy sliced up from the ground as if piercing through from a space below. The vertical maelstrom rotated ferociously and eerily writhed in the air for a few moments before dissipating with a crack of thunder and leaving a withered, twisted body in its place.

A weasel hurrying across the way paid the cloaked, broken figure no attention until it reached out with a bare bony hand and gathered a fist of the weasel's shirt. "The ferret, Telemain, where is he?"

"N-no ferrets here."

The weasel squirmed, eager to get off the streets, and the frightening creature- the rat- tossed him to the ground, his fist trembling, "No! No, he's here!...somewhere." But the weasel had already fled. He was left standing alone in the street. Individual snowflakes drifted nearby on the wind only to be smote by curved, shimmering tendrils of heat constantly arcing out from his body like pedals of a continuously unfurling, ghostly flower. He stalking to a nearby structure, imploded the door with scarcely a look, and seized the first fur who came from within to investigate, "your town is defended by mages. Where are they?"

The trembling feline directed him in the direction of the wall and cowered back into the building. The rat's harsh gaze pierced the fabric covering his uselessly clouded white eyes, his perceptions lanced out to the wall and those working them. The city was to large for him to observe in detail, and Telemain's presence was not immediately apparent, disguised perhaps, but he would find him. He had felt that accursed feilan foul up Evoncar's mage with his trickery even so many thousands of miles distant. So close, he would be drawn to the ferret's magic like a shark to fresh blood.
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Sade rhymes with Made

Rackenhammer · Peasant Joined: 23 Jul 2009 Posts: 45 Location: NoVa

The ferret in question (who was actually a ferx, a ferret/black fox hybrid) was currently disguised as a farily nondescript feline by the name of Alvin Streep. Most of the furs in the city thought he was an agent of the King of Edwin. *Wonder why there isn't one, here. King Godric must be asleep on the job to have missed the ambitions of the Lord of Kent.* Acting as commander of the magical portion of Sheringham's defense, the ferx had repulsed an invasion force from that very Lord.

Currently, Telemain, for that was his real name, was using a scry screen to contact Zechariah Vesperocci, his superior. "...and that is the situation as it stands."
"Hmm..." the dragon on the other end mused. Zechariah was in the arctic, and had been responsible for the freak snowstorm. "Well, if I read the winds right, the snowstorm will depart soon, coming over the lands under Evoncar's influence. That will undoubtedly destroy his agricultural yield. He won't be able to sustain any campaigns for a while."
"That's provided he has no equivalent magical help. And that's another issue. We've stopped the invasion, captured the golems, and incapacitated them. The prisoners we have assure us that there is a factory somewhere in Kent, set up by the Dysuhls. What do we do about that?"
Vesperocci remained silent for about a second. "I think that should be obvious, don't you? The storm will give you an opportunity you shan't have for a while." He spoke quietly.
Telemain sighed. "If that is so, then it clear. I just hope things work out so that I can do this."
"I'd pray, if I were you. You'll need divine intervention to succeed."
The connection was terminated.

Telemain sighed, and returned to his work. There wasn't much he could do until the storm passed. He occupied his time in writing out a list of needed things for the subsequent raid.
Food, definitely. We can't gather much on the way.
Waterskins,
Gold in a silk pouch,
Companions good at sneaking around, and doing raids.
Tel sighed at the last. Technically, he had someone at his beck and call, who might know something about this, but he'd need a third, at least, someone experienced in sneak jobs...

All of a sudden, a sick feeling emerged in the pit of his stomach. *Here? Now?* He patted his pockets. A coin was at hand. Feeling a little more able to deal with the situation, he strolled out of his office and towards the wall where those under his "command" labored. All the time he kept a look out, for the one fur whose meeting he least desired...
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All hail the Scion of the Spanish Throne!

Peasant: Que? Quis usted?

Er... no hablo espanol, senor.

Sade · Rogue Joined: 23 Jul 2009 Posts: 63

Vedicus was met with little resistance as he stalked through the city. Nobody here knew who he was, or which side he was on. Most of the few who could detect the danger, priests and off-duty mages and the like, had the good sense to flee back to their posts, and the others found themselves hopelessly outmatched. Again, some of these scarce few had the good sense to finally flee. Vedicus did not stop them. He simply did not care. The rest he slaughtered as easily as a butcher might slaughter a small, anemic bird, but less carefully, less swiftly, giving time for them to feel the pain- time for fleeting thoughts of grieving friends and family. "See the price of resistance," Vedicus would say to any bystanders, his words disfigured by his own mangled jaw, "a slow, agonizing death, slower even then this man's." The witnesses would then flee. The rat let them go each time and continued towards the wall, even as they ran to alert the town guard, which had more pressing matters to worry about than one more murder.

As he approached the wall, something changed. The ghostly lotus endlessly unfurling from the ground beneath his feat vanished in favor of an equally indistinct vortex. Shimmering spiral arms passed through nearby buildings and carried in their wake a riling golden and silver mass: coins, thousands of them, lifted from tables, torn from pockets and drawers by tremendous force, and carried through the air out windows and doors, or even directly through solid walls leaving them littered with tiny holes. The coins eventually coalesced behind the rat's tail and fell to the ground as large gold, copper, or silver spheres.

Telemain was close now; Vedicus could feel it. Things would be different this time. Unfamiliar faces peered down from this particular segment of wall with disinterest or mild disgust. Were any of these the not-quite-ferret he was after? Surely his adversary would have made some move it was so. "I'm looking for a black ferret," the rat's humorless, tortured voice carried up to the mages, "is he among you?" They didn't answer, instead exchanging confused glances; of course he wasn't among them, they were all clearly one race or another, but not ferret. "Where is your commander?" Vedicus demanded, frustration masking anger. Again they turned and spoke among themselves.
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Sade rhymes with Made

Rackenhammer · Peasant Joined: 23 Jul 2009 Posts: 45 Location: NoVa

One mage on the wall looked to another. "Where is Commander Streep?"
The other shrugged. "He had to report to his superiors. He was in his office , I think."
They turned down to the rat. All the mages on the wall eyed him. Some instinct told them that this guy did not have their best interests in mind, but his exact nature remained a mystery. "We're due for inspection soon, I shouldn't wonder. He'll be along then. Why do you want him?"

'Commander Streep,' in the meantime, felt Vedicus' activities. You'd need a soul much more calloused than his not to. *Murders, fear, doubt. Huh, he's no bad tactician in the battlefield of the mind. And what...?* Tel clutched the bag, felt the coin still inside, and relaxed, with a smile. *Ah, so you've learned from last time. One step ahead of you there.*
Telemain was close enough to know that the rat had reached the wall. At his present pace, the disguised ferx had five minutes before they'd meet. Do I want to drag those under my command into this? I'm not so foolish as to try to face him alone. He could dispell my disguise... but I think I might be able to deal with that. Oh God, please send your help, in whatever form please you.
With that prayer, sent to heaven like an emergency flare, he walked on, ever closer.
_________________
All hail the Scion of the Spanish Throne!

Peasant: Que? Quis usted?

Er... no hablo espanol, senor.

Sade · Rogue Joined: 23 Jul 2009 Posts: 63

(OOC: Guess who's typing on his new Mini 10 netbook!)

“My business with your commander is none of your concern at this, particular, moment. Suffice it to say he is, in a manner of speaking indebted to me,” the thick, cordlike follicles of fur along his hackles rose slightly beneath the robe so stained, torn and mended, and otherwise fouled as it was. The ferret was watching him. His unique perception once again lanced out into the world around him, finding only one change: a feline was approaching along the wall. Vedicus’ head turned slowly to face him, the useless eyes hidden from view ‘meeting’ the newcomers for a brief moment. The cat, this ‘commander streep,’ was still some distance away. The rat quickly continued to speak to the mages, twisted around as he was, “well, perhaps now is as good a time as any to- EXPLAIN!”

He began dropping to a crouch, even as he was falling towards the ground the metallic spheres he had formed from the wealth of the city rocketed overhead, some even brushing the fabric at the top of his head, and peppered the ranks up on the wall. These mages were no slouches, or at least some of them weren’t; some leapt to the floor the second Vedicus began to move, any who hadn’t were eviscerated by flying metal. This had scarcely transpired as Vedicus threw up one of his boney hands and pointed it towards the approaching feline. Purposely missing, a lance of what must have been blood at some point sliced into the wall just before and just behind Streep. The wall exploded as if hit by a catapult and showered the nearby furs and buildings with ruble the size of a man’s head. Anything falling near the still-moving rat deflected harmlessly from an invisible barrier.

Barely two second after snarling the word “explain,” Vedicus spun, dropping to all fours like an animal, and vaulted through the second story window of a nearby building.
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Sade rhymes with Made

Rackenhammer · Peasant Joined: 23 Jul 2009 Posts: 45 Location: NoVa

Telemain could hear the rumble as the coins approached. "Take cover!" he roared in the autoriative voice he had acquited by exigency. He suited action to the word as Vedicus sent a blast of energy his way.
*Now what? What is he doing? Sabotage? No, he came for me specifically.*
As the survivors regrouped, he barked out. "What happened?"
The mages explained as best they could.
Their 'commander' grimaced. "That was Dysuhlian, all right. They're the ones who gave Evoncar the golems. Whatever he's doing, I can't let him succeed. I wouldn't advise you to follow me, like as not you won't come back."
That discouraged most of them, but a few went forward. One was a very old feline, who simply said. "Ach, 's better than dying in bed, anyhow."
Another was a headstrong young lynx, "Let me at 'im, teach them to attack us!"
The third was a nondescript grey, middle-aged fox, who said nothing, but simply nodded and followed Tel.

They started off after the rat, Tel whispering, "You'll see things which will suprise and most likely horrify you. I'll try to get us out alive. No promises." they entered the building, and he shouted up. "What do you want now? No more sneaking around, we're having this out in the open!"
_________________
All hail the Scion of the Spanish Throne!

Peasant: Que? Quis usted?

Er... no hablo espanol, senor.

Sade · Rogue Joined: 23 Jul 2009 Posts: 63

The building groaned loudly as they entered, eventually filling with the sounds of splintering wood on the floor above as the rat gathered whatever raw materials the Fetch required. Even so, the structure remained sound, and soon the world grew still and silent.

"What do you want now? No more sneaking around, we're having this out in the open!"

Vedicus immediately dropped from a hole in the ceiling a short distance away and landed lightly on his feet. His features were more easily distinguishable now. Countless deaths had left him broken and twisted. As he lost flesh to injury his body became increasingly slender to the point of reaching a certain lithe, serpentine quality, and his once average if stained robes were sewn back together too many times to easily discern. The fabric was tied down in several places along his length with rope and leather belts, and the hood was tied with thick rope over the top of his face. Few jagged broken teeth remained in his jaws. Even as his body deteriorated his stamina and agility appeared to increase.

He did not employ these things now, though. Instead he stood passively. Spellfire of all kinds impacted against and sent slow graceful ripples through a shimmering layer of magic surrounding him. The ambient light had diminished significantly, leaving the magic of "Streep" and the three accompanying mages to throw multicolored light and fitful malformed shadows across the walls. Vedicus cast a cruel grin as if amused by the comparative impotence of the assailants. In reality, he wasn't amused. He was pretty sure Telemain had learned this some time ago: he did not experience emotion, or at least not as others would recognize it, though he could be frustrated or angered.

Having made his point, the shimmering field around him leapt outward, the force of it sent the three mages careening into the far wall, however to "Streep" it merely tore away the magic hugging tightly to his body. The familiar not-quite-ferret stood in the commanders place. His assistant mages tried to compose another attack, only to be driven against the wall another time and pummeled by debris.

Vedicus still stood where he had landed, a dozen feet away. The grin was gone, instead he tilted his head slightly. "Do you dream, Telemain?" he asked in a comparatively earnest, neutral tone. "I dreamt once, a thousand years ago... I dreamt about a time far distant, when fear and ignorance nearly destroyed my people; and I dreamt about the world as it is, where fear and ignorance still run rampant; and I realized then what I had to do. They had put me here for a very specific reason. My life had, and still has, purpose."

"I also dreamt about you," he continued, starting to pace. He did not find Telemain particularly threatening, or his help, for that matter. Vedicus could not be undone by the black ferret's trickery. He stopped pacing. "And I realized something then. I could kill most any feilan without effort. In my time I've defeated wizards with far more skill and wisdom than yourself, and more, I've broken them so thoroughly, so expertly, they became as servants to my will. I can see the souls within your companions here. I could see the souls of your University mentors burning like fires in the night, and so I knew, if my goals shifted, I could destroy them. But yours is closed to me, protected by something I cannot comprehend, against which I have no offense."

Small sounds could be heard in the other rooms as the Fetch massed there. One of them was visible in a doorway, but it was different from the others and almost difficult to recognize as a Fetch at all. It wore a clean white robe and appeared to be living, unlike Vedicus, but then the Fetch had always been living things regardless of the old necromancer's own condition. It appeared to be holding a deck of playing cards in its right hand. Vedicus, meanwhile, was advancing towards Telemain. "I cannot destroy your soul. I cannot kill you," he said as he came close, "but I can destroy everything you love, and more..."

He stopped. Only now was it obvious that he had grown rather tall. The Fetch were closing in. They carried tiny, delicate blades. His tone black and dripping as tar, muffled by the puss flowing from within, he called out to them, "Cut out his eyes!"
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Sade rhymes with Made

Rackenhammer · Peasant Joined: 23 Jul 2009 Posts: 45 Location: NoVa

The three mages with Telemain ceased casting after being thrown back the second time. Whatever magic had come from Tel himself was just testing Vedicus' defense. *Normal magic won't penetrate it. Thought as much. I think he'll talk first.*

Vedicus' 'explanation' wasn't all that unexpected. *It stands to reason, I suppose, that he'd have no comprehension of the Divine. But who are "they" that he says have sent him?*

He didn't get a chance to ask the question aloud. The Fetch began to pour out of every doorway into the main hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the one holding playing cards.

"Retreat! Blast the supporting beams!" Telemain roared out, still in the voice of Streep, and the mages obeyed, even though a rather less impressive figure was before them. The building had taken a beating in the seige, and Vedicus had only compromised its structure more, so when the support beams cracked, the second floor collapsed into the first.

The four mages, three supporting the old one, dove behind a pile of masonry used for reparing the walls. "Who was that?" The young one asked Tel.
"A Necromancer that my organization is opposed to. I have faced him before."
The old one piped up. "This Unseen University... is it a royal institution?"
"Well, I have been sent to look after the king'sinterest, but if you ask, he will deny knowing us." Tel replied, in a sort of twinkle-eyed denial that negated nothing.

The sounds of destruction were attracting the wall and city guards. Tel wasn't sure how much good they's do. Vedicus had probably survived, though the majority of the Fetch probably hadn't.
_________________
All hail the Scion of the Spanish Throne!

Peasant: Que? Quis usted?

Er... no hablo espanol, senor.