alabastre event

This is a Chance of Death event.
This means that there is, indeed, a chance of death.
Injuries are using a table, yet creativity and roleplay may yield better (or worse) results than what the sheet dictates.
Anyone taking a third temporary injury will be dealt a permanent injury in addition.
Falling under 100 vitality will result in death.
You may sacrifice yourself and take another person's injury ONCE.
Medics may use their ability (should they have the time) ONCE.

Feel free to ask any questions before we begin.
[Narrate]

Following the trail left behind by the elders of this world, Achyon finds itself being the first group that manages to make their way to Alabastre: The Sunken City of Secrets.

... Threw the sewer system, that is.

The group is sure to come out of it smelly, damp, and far more unhappy than if they had used more regular means, though ultimately? They find themselves exiting a large pipe leading to a half-collapsed room.

Stones. Rocks. Wood. Metal. Debris of all kind litter what seems to be an old lab of sorts, filled with torn diagrams on the walls, broken glass, empty vials, and a mass of boxes, trinkets, tables, alongside alchemy and artificing accessories alike.

Wherever they were, it had been someone's home before.

(Artificers and Alchemists, roll a d20)
[Narrate]

"Hm.."

Not exactly the most pleasant place he's ever been to.. but this isn't the worst he's done for the Empire, so going through something like this was no big deal.

At least, so far.

The Captain idly looks about the place, if only to begin rummaging on his own- various diagrams are inspected along the way, even if they're torn; perhaps he might find a thing or two that could be useful.
(Marcel Delisle)

As Amelia rises upwards silently, she clearly notices the device from afar. A few buttons plague its surface and a mix of golden, silver, and rainbow-colored reflections send out what little light strikes it. A large blue, broken screen sits within the middle of the device.

Though without properly approaching it the Artificer finds herself unable to identify all of its components, let alone what it truly is in the first place.

The construct upon which it sits finds itself overtaken by a soft whirr.

"Hel... o.... a.... ou..."
[Narrate]

Marcel's attention turns elsewhere.

Without anything worthwhile found on his end, his gaze turns towards Amelia- just as he was about to ask what is it, he notices the gesture for them all to remain silent. Was there something that she deemed dangerous?

Though, given the constant danger that they're in..
Something always happens.

Especially in expeditions such as these. For the time being, he inspects the contraption from afar. The fact that it would have anything resembling complex mechanisms this far away is somewhat bizarre to him, but..

Maybe this place is more than they imagined.

For now, he watches.
(Marcel Delisle)

A long silence follows Amelia's words, dragging on for what seems to be an eternity. The group would feel as if they were waiting for no reason at some point, though a peculiar ability was being utilized, showcased in one of the least intense manner there was.

Bit by bit the entire group was having their mana drained. Not to a damaging level, not even carrying the toll a blood transfusion would, but just enough for whatever sat before them to begin powering up.

Marcel, out of everyone, was all too familiar with such a draining technique. The man, at some point, would feel whatever was happening.

The choice whether or not to act upon it was his.
[Narrate]

Curious.

The feeling that he was all too familiar with, but one that he was pondering about - why, or how exactly, was it trying to exert such ability upon them all? It is something that he's all too familiar with..

He snuffed out a good number of magi that way.

"Stay away from it."

"It'll drain you of all your mana if you linger."

A natural way to overpower such would be to contradict the draining process- one that stems from Marcel himself; the dark lightning is quick to envelop him, the markings of stretching arcs of lightning that jump towards the source..

All to strike it down - and take it mana for himself.

It would be impossible to simply steal away the mana from his magic, for its very nature is to steal away the mana from that object, first. Whether it resists the attempt, or whether it tries to overpower Marcel in return..

That's a different story. But him?

He'll try to steal all that it has first - fighting fire with fire, quite literally.
(Marcel Delisle)

The strain put upon the construct was something that it had not expected, nor was it apt to counteract it. Marcel's pull was far too great for something that had laid dormant for far, far too long to fight against.

... However the man would not stand too long absorbing its mana. It was potent.

No. Potent was an understatement.

It was debilitating. It was as if he was pulling from a star itself, as if the man basked into the collapsed core of a dead star, swimming in its entrails like some sort of parasite. Maddening. If the man kept on going it would spell trouble.

"W-W-W-Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?"

As if stuck in an endless loop the odd construct repeated the same question over and over. Its metallic outter shell began shaking and clanking, rust dissipating in the air as a cold spread across the room.

"Who are you?
Who are you?
Who are you?

Why are you here?

I'm hungry.
I'm cold.
Why are you here?"

A femnine voice could be heard within all of their minds. It soon became obvious that the sound they heard was not one that spread across the physicality of these ruins, but their minds directly.

It's with one final cold, one final -pull- of their mana that blue eyes lit up to life from the depths of the metallic... abomination.

The absorption had died down. And it stood at ten feet tall for all too see, lifeless, yet far too alive.

"I am... Eudocia. But you can call me Evie."
[Narrate]

Overwhelming.

An experience he did not expect- taking such potent mana was an intoxicating experience that almost beckoned him to continue; it was akin to taking something incredibly delicious, something addictive, something that shouldn't even be taken due to how good it is..

It's like taking Sylvanum.
But ten times worse.

Yet the backlash that comes makes it all not worth it anymore; when such feeling overwhelms him, he recoils back, almost losing his stance for a moment- but whereas he regains his composure, the draining finally ends.

He knows not to overexert in such matters.

"You began this first."

"Not us."

The blame is directly put on this creature that calls itself Eudocia; yet, where she speaks of more, he's quick to retort.

"This is Imperial expedition force, and you are to oblige with requests made."

"Otherwise, you will be a subject for termination."

An official and ruthless statement, but it is true- a pause, to which he adds.

"You will allow yourself to be inspected, without further threat or attempts to do something to any of us."

"Or else, you will be considered hostile."

He doesn't have to repeat what will happen to her then. The Empire doesn't play around either.

She'll be terminated otherwise.
(Marcel Delisle)

The questions laid upon the construct were numerous and direct. Insanely direct for some being who had just been awakened from a long, long sleep.

"I am.. me. I do not believe my friend would be happy if you tinkered with this body."

Its answer was followed by a silence as it gazed around the room, noticing its state.

"... Where is she? Where is her husband? Her father?"

Achyon. Achyon. It ringed no bell to the being whatsoever. With Barsburg itself remaining unnamed confusion only grew from the abomination's part. Part metal. Part living. Part... cotton?

How odd.

The sound of metallic plates shifting could be heard as Evie brought its attention back towards the group.

"I have been here since 1763. I could walk before that.

Have you come to feed me?

I need it. Without food I cannot leave."
[Narrate]

It appears that the creature was not aware of what it is.

Or what the situation is. It's natural, seeing that it just woke up recently.. but the Captain decides to offer an explanation nonetheless- one that seemingly remained necessary.

"You are in the ruins of what seems like an old city."

"While I'm not entirely sure whether anyone else dwells in these ruins - it's safe to assume no other remain."

"In other words, it's likely that whoever you're referring to as your friend is long time dead, or abandoned this place."

At the very least, that's how it seems to be; perhaps other contraptions or machines remain, but that's unlikely. He'd make a debt on some trap, or a different creature dwelling.

"Due to hostile intent you expressed immediately upon awakening, there will be no feeding given to you."

"We cannot trust you - and it's in your interest to comply and answer these questions."

He already warned once what will happen otherwise. He won't repeat himself again.

Perhaps, a bit of self-awareness regarding her situation could let her make a more sensible choice. At the very least..

Realizing that she's all alone and surrounded by strangers should make her realize - she's in no position to make demands, and they're in no position to honor her requests.

Especially not after she decided to let loose from the start.
(Marcel Delisle)

It was too late.
Marcel had blundered it for them.

"No... food?

I... guess I'll have to take it from you, then."

The man may just hate himself for having ruined any chance there was at discovering more of what this entity could provide.

Without further ado it rose both its arms up, bringing forth a chilling, freezing cold.

And more importantly? A ravenous hunger for all of their mana.
[Narrate]

It was a pointless endeavour.

To entertain someone who would be looking for this 'food' to allow more to be discovered- and with such an ability, that clearly implied someone being a sacrificial lamb.

Quite literally.

"Good."

"No point talking when you weren't going to cooperate anyway."

The black lightning swirls- enough to pick up on the mana of their opposition, but this time, more refined and practiced. He couldn't afford to be overwhelmed once again.

"She can be inspected after she's been disabled."
(Marcel Delisle)

As magic was sent flying left and right it's Xenia of all people who makes her rough advance towards the construct, unleashing a song that brings it down to a knee.

Two knees.
Both her hands and knees.

And with a CLANK later the construct as a whole was completely broken down, shattered by years of neglect and a very dangerous fight against a group of magi. Within the remains of the metallic structure sat a roughed up, half-decimated doll.

It hardly had any life left it in, having finally been vanquished from this plane of existence as its false would-be star drew the remains of its fabricated presence.

Eudocia Mimes was long gone, and now? What remained of her essence was, too.

The group would find nothing more useful, the being having been constructed for a specific project left unfinished gave no leeway for the artificers present to repurpose it.

A true shame.

The wall furthest to them all collapsed at once, leaving boulders and debris leading out towards a door. It creaked open, practically beckoning them to exit towards a mysterious blue light.
[Narrate]

A difficult thing to fight.

Despite all of the neglect for maintenance that it experienced, and the hungering state, it was evidently clear that the threat was so ever present.. so much so that it would be only a wonder to think of how much danger it held in its prime days.

Provided they existed at all.

While it finally shatters, Marcel is not pleased with the resolution. His gaze points towards the remains, and while he quietly hums to himself..

There are words of displeasure.

"A shame."

"Perhaps we'll find something else that's worth our time."

Hopefully they will. For now, he moves forward to what seems like an exit to a different light.

Maybe there's something else.
(Marcel Delisle)

As the group leaves this ancient lab they are met with... It.

Alabastre: The Sunken City of Secrets

Many buildings seemed to have been preserved through time despite their location. Above their head and surrounding the entire city is a barrier more powerful, intricate, and magnificent than anything the group had ever seen. The pressure from how deep they stand remains unfelt and the deep sea surrounding them is firmly kept out.

As the centerpiece of the city and the apex of the barrier rests a massive tower, a large spire of sorts that casts out light in every direction, allowing for the Achyonites to witness the miracle from decades prior.

This was definitely the place they sought.
[Narrate]

An oddity.

This miracle they're walking into is something he did not expect to see... albeit, he wonders what was the initial purpose of the barrier. Surely it was not created in mind to push the water out and prevent drowning?

"Unless they decided to sink their city for one reason or another, this barrier might serve a different purpose."

But what purpose that would be remains unclear; yet, there's an indescribable chill that goes down his spine for a bit. The feeling of being so far underneath, with all this water potentially crashing down..

Did he just discover a new phobia?

"--I don't like this."

"The thought of water suddenly rushing in and all of us drowning, if barriers fail to hold up."

"What if we take something that's powering it and exactly that happens?"

Courage, experience and willpower easily keep these thoughts under control, but it's best to be assured.

"Ryker, it's best you'd be prepared to get us out of here if that happens."
(Marcel Delisle)

And so, as the group begin marching towards the spire a few things become clear. The first was that -something- was watching them. Constantly. Even down to their very thoughts. It was suffocating in nature, as if craddled by thousands of eyes in a metaphysical manner.

The second?

No one interested in them was alive down in the city. It seemed more like a ghost town than anything else, likely only manifesting its treasures to those who truly seek what the denizens themselves could possess. This group, however, was after something much, much greater.

And so, they made their way towards the large, towering structure.

As they advance within the walls, the floor, the ceiling - each and every bit of their surrounding was shifting and changing in a manner not magical, but purely mechanical. As if engineered to do so. Naturally one could expect that the one behind the building's controls was the same being that observed them.

Still, the group was presented with a vast, large room.

In the middle of it sits yet another metallic entity, though this one... may be familiar to some.

(Artificers roll a d20)
[Narrate]

Marcel didn't enjoy the feeling of constantly being tracked by something.

If anything, it put him on guard, always expecting a sudden attack from somewhere, always expecting an ambush or something to appear and harm them. Not even for a moment does his alertness cease in any way possible, and yet..

Something inside of the room attracts his attention.

"It could be Imperial technology." At least, he doesn't know anything else that could supply that.

"My bet is that it's a defense construct, likely activated upon trespass or the order given."

"And if my bet is correct - we could be in trouble."
(Marcel Delisle)

Vitus and Marcel would recognize the large machine to be made with magitech by design. What it is and where it came from is rather unclear. Meanwhile Amelia finds herself distracted by the intricate pattern of the floor tiles, so much so that she completely disregards the fact that an old city houses Magitech prototypes of all things.

Upon its large body vines crawl up, infiltrating and surrounding it. A -tremendous- amount of spiritual energy can be felt coming from the large entity, despite the fact magitech is rarely paired with spirits. Let alone to that extent.

As the group speaks this machine quickly finds life within itself.

It asked not for food, nor did it seem too keen on any approach.

It awaited.

As if it beckoned for the inevitable.
[Narrate]

"Hm.."

Spiritual energy and the vines of nature. Perhaps this is a note that they could take for the future reference.. and immediately Marcel thinks of various ideas that could serve the Empire in the future.

Perhaps, rather than eradicating spirits..
They could be enslaved into machines.

Akin to possessing them - yet sharing their energy, acquiring a body to hold, and programmed through complex runework to serve the Empire. It's an off thought, but..

The machine awaits.

While he thinks it's hostile.. maybe, just maybe, standard protocols might work?

"Err--"

"Execute protocol: greeting." He pauses. No reaction?

"Execute protocol: patrol the area."

"Command: hardware report. Command: prompt database."

Is he trying various standard voice commands for magitech, hoping that one of them might work?

"Command-slash-database-underscore-report." He awaits, again.

"...still no?"
(Marcel Delisle)

"Greetings.

I am unit G14N77174N."

It responded to Marcel's demands. Crazy.

Well.. Sort of.

"You do not have the clearance for this command."
"You do not have the clearance for this command."
"You do not have the clearance for this command."
"You do not have the clearance for this command."

As it spoke more and more it became obvious that the 'entity' they were looking at was not just... that.

They were looking at but a part of its full unit. This much became clear as the wall itself came to life, raising forth two massive, mechanical arms.

There was no way they were bringing this one back home.
[Narrate]

It was still functional?

That was fairly impressive. But while he could come up and try to tamper with its runework, to see if he could breach into security - this could lead to devastating consequences. Who knows..

Maybe it has a protocol to automatically attack anyone who tries doing that, unless such breach was authorized.

"I see."

He remarks briefly, tapping at his chin.

"Unit G14N77174N."

"Command: database search. Keyword: maintenance check or repair. Time: most recent."

What is he up to, asking for this?
(Marcel Delisle)

"You do not have the clearance for this command.

Fifth attempt of security breach detected.

Engaging Instant-Kill-Mode."

That didn't sound good.

Neither did the primordial, elemental forces that were brought to play. Waves of fire, earth, wind, and water all erupted at once, carrying a distinct level of mana as the machine drew from the spirit realm itself.
[Narrate]

"..."

"Well, shit."

That didn't sound good at all. While Marcel was already readying his weapon- but this time, his blade Vseron unlike the mere rifle- he speaks out.

"I didn't think it had five attempts, sheesh."

"Usually they put security protocols like that only for runework tampering." Then again..

"This means that whoever constructed it wanted to ensure high security - and whatever it guards, or whatever it is made of is very valuable."

That's one theory. Though..

They'll find out soon enough.
(Marcel Delisle)

It was a disaster. It was complete pandemonium. Elements were flying left and right with incredible, terrifying threats ceaselessly. The entire group was far from prepared to fight something like this, even as they fell victorious before Amelia's artistic rendition of dismantling.

Pieces of the machine - the wall-sized machine began falling off one after the other, allowing for its contents to spill out and its secrets to be revealed.

The very devices that were powering it were unlike anything any artificer in the room had seen - high-level magitech coming from Barsburg itself, prototypes stolen and perfected by scholars of the sunken city using knowledge taken and taught from a settlement long gone.

A deep connection to the Spirit World had been the source of each and every person's pain.

Irony was rich and Alabastre knew all too well how to make a man suffer. Ryker found himself engulfed in flames that refused to be put out, leaving a horrible burn along the length of his right arm. (-10 vit perm)

Xenia found herself plagued by bad luck as the twisting, violent winds of a vortex that reached deep into the Elemental Lands struck her left side dead-on, leaving her left ear completely unable to hear. To most it would be awful, to a sound magi? It was unacceptable. (-10 vit perm)

Vitus' mastery of gravity did not save him from the quaking lands below his feet. With an earthen spike jutting out all of a sudden the young magi's right leg finds itself skewered through, needing either reconstruction or complete replacement. (-10 vit perm)

Where Amelia found victory in her dismantling, she found defeat in her fighting. The ice brought forth from her fingertips was completely stopped by a wave of water that drove her away, holding her long enough to cause hypoxia and leave her with a lifelong cough she could treasure as a memory. (-10 vit perm)

Compared to the rest of the party Niffty came out not horribly wounded, being left with no more than violent burns to the soles of her feet which made walking far, far more difficult. (1 day temp)

After having enraged the machine not once but twice, Marcel had his own brush with death form the combination of elements that befell him. His body is cut up, burn, and a few bones are broken all over the place. A general sense of dread fills him, certainly. (4 days temp)
[Narrate]

A disaster unlike any other.

One that he couldn't help but feel that could be very well their end, if they weren't careful enough- yet as much as he fights on with all that he had, this becomes a great challenge.

Even for someone like him.

The immense endurance and defensive techniques do little in the way of helping him to ensure that he does not become injured; the blasts of various elements do everything in their power to reduce the Captain to a less capable state.

In that much, they succeed.
Yet he's clearly capable of carrying on, for now.

With machine at last brought down, the wounded Captain remarks- with evident displeasure in his voice; his pain tolerance was high, but he was by no means immune to it or found it in any way pleasant.

"That.."

"Didn't go so well."

A testament to such is found in the countless severe injuries that happened all across the group.

"We still have much ground to cover, don't we?"
(Marcel Delisle)

--- LEVEL 1 CLEAR! ---

As the group finds themselves plagued with injuries and wounds the room itself begins changing, shifting. Stairs appear out of the walls themselves, leading to a higher ground and a large, vast room for the group to walk into.

That is if they persist.

In the middle of the room stands a lone chest. Light shines down upon the chest, singling it out.
[Narrate]

Marcel decides to risk it, while persisting further with the rest of the group.

But not risk himself, obviously. He pulls out the jerky that he was saving for quite a while, and levitates it with the wind magic, all the way to the chest's supposed 'mouth' - at least, where one would have it, if that was a mimic.

"Let's see."

If that chest suddenly decides to snap at the jerky? Definitely a mimic.
(Marcel Delisle)

The jerky falls atop the chest. Over. And over. And over. And over.

And after the seventh time it's the chest finally...

... does nothing. At all.
[Narrate]

Marcel begins to approach..

But not before he cloaks himself in the dark lightning barrier, one that would make sure that, in case he actually gets munched on by a giant chest mimic, at least it won't hurt nearly as much.

Defensive techniques are nice.

"I'm going to regret this. Probably."

Marcel tries to open the chest and take its valuables.
(Marcel Delisle)

It's when Marcel finally approaches the chest and reaches out that the inevitable happens.

The chest bares its

contents.

A simple piece of paper with a message upon it.

"Fear has often stopped the world's progress. Only those who are meant to rise further will do so without harm."
[Narrate]

"..."

Marcel reads the message on the paper. He reads it for a little while longer, almost as if to make sure that what he sees with his eyes is actually true.

Eventually, he speaks out.

"This isn't a mimic, but-"

"I don't like this chest. It mocks me with its smug aura."
(Marcel Delisle)

... And that's when a mechanical sound can be heard.

Grates slide open above them, releasing waters that begin flooding the room rapidly and without any more warning. Was this a trap? Had they been right all along?

It seemed there was no time to think!

(0/3 turns until the room is filled with water)
[Narrate]

"--Dammit."

Someone like Marcel is definitely not equipped to deal with large quantity of water. If anything, he could try to steer it away with powerful winds, at most, but..

A single surge of lightning? It will hurt everyone here. Best he doesn't do anything like that.

"Vitus."

"Try to shut the stream of water with something metal."
(Marcel Delisle)

The ice cast forth by Amelia does seem to slow down the flow. For now. Though it becomes obvious that it will break through eventually. (+1 turn)

Xenia shut the chest close. It can no longer bite anyone.

Vitus had an idea that was far more sophisticated, close the grates shut in order to halt the flow completely, for now. (+1 turn)

Yet, it seems the group is still... in the room. Waiting.

(1/5 turns until the room is flooded)
[Narrate]

"Hm.."

Perhaps the answer is actually in his wind magic. While it may be somewhat of an extraordinary solution to it, his control over wind magic has been long mastered and made into something capable.

"Try not to move around in this."

The only warning he gives to each group, until.. the winds are conjured all around their heads- soon, forming into a constant spinning motion that takes a bit of time for Marcel to form.

Further fuelled by applicable runework, enhanced to persist and remain where it is- constantly spinning and supplying more oxygen to each.

An air bubble on everyone's heads.

"And try to not wander far."

If he cannot maintain direct line of sight on them all, that air bubble might break. And if it does, well..

He can just provide more oxygen with the conjured winds.
(Marcel Delisle)

As Amelia's ice is removed by her hand more water begins flooding in. Naturally the time she had bought for the group is now gone. (-1 turn)

Marcel succeeds in giving the group their own air bubble. For now.

Vitus releasing the grates goes as expected. (-1 turn)

(2/3 turns until flooded)
[Narrate]

So there was magic at work.

This wasn't merely the case of drowning them all in simple water - magi like them tend to have several tricks up their sleeve in order to prevent that from happening, but..

If there were myriad traps to prevent their magic from being used, and there was nothing but four walls and a chest, what else could they do?

There's a last attempt from Marcel.

Perhaps his best ability- to steal the mana from his surroundings, from the powerful magics that stole away the air bubbles. Maybe..

Just maybe he'll be able to turn this around - and steal the magic that initially disrupted his air bubble.

With that, he tries to provide a constant supply of oxygen to himself, first. If this will work - soon, he'll do it for the rest.

If it won't, then he's likely out of options.
(Marcel Delisle)

And that's when it all happens at once. Grates deep below on the floor opened up, the walls shifted to reveal holes of their own allowing all the water to drain near instantly, bringing the group back down to the floor.

Yet, something was different. There was a... shadow.

A large, shrinking shadow that had settled upon the tiles below their feet. Should any of them look up they would be met with an abomination from the seas itself, a monster that had no right to live, and yet it did.

They had solved the puzzle, of course, but now they were faced with a violent, dangerous beast.
[Narrate]

Little by little, they could begin to drown, and yet..

The water dissipates, flows away. When they're back on the floor, he coughs out a little bit- clearly displeased with having to endure all of this at all to begin with.

So uncivilized..

"They really invested much of their time to put up a lot of traps around, didn't they?"

But when he sees the shadow lingering about, his eyes narrow to that; he can't help but draw his sword Vseron once again, seeing that there was little other choice.

"Another trial."
(Marcel Delisle)

It's with a relentless pursuit by the beast that Marcel finds his lungs flooded with water. Not only that, but all of his insides bleeding. Not that it's a problem; blood belongs inside the body, right? (12 days temp)

The courageous Razuka who's aid brought everyone to safety for the entire duration of their expedition finds itself saved by no other than Amelia. Whips of blood lash upon the artificer who's sacrifice towards Niffty will hardly be forgotten. (12 days temp)

As always Vitus finds himself on the receiving end of the worst, being showered with scarlet darts and left with vile, beastly blood infecting his own. (4 days temp)

As all good fathers do Ryker put himself in the way of terrifying blood tendrils for his daughter, cleaving cleaning through it before he claimed the beast's life, even at the cost of his entire body feeling a sharp pain with each heartbeat. (12 days temp)

With the monstrous beast vanquished the chest that had been constantly replaced, broken, damaged, rifted away, and brought back to life opened itself up, revealing yet another piece of paper.

This one far, far more cryptic.

From within the beast's remains lays a blue crystal, intense by all means.

And so, as the adventurers look upwards they'll see the walls arranging themselves into stairs once again, beckoning them towards the top...

--- LEVEL 2 CLEAR! ---

... As well as a small door opening up to the side, leading to what seems to be blinding, outside light.
[Narrate]

Rough.

Had it been any different, then perhaps Marcel would be injured to the point of being unable to carry on properly anymore- with the hemorrhage and the fluids flooding his body in ways that hurt him quite plenty, with the beast vanquished..

He holds onto his side, wounded- hurting from the inside out.

It's worthless to use precious elixirs that could help this, given their insane costs; unless they were to continue. While Marcel looks over to Ryker, idly coughing out some blood, he remarks.

"--Are we going to continue?"
(Marcel Delisle)

As the group exits the room they find themselves upon... docks. Seemingly having completely left Alabastre itself. Whatever magic was at play was not done messing with them, however.

A massive burst of mana exited the door behind them, engulfing the entire group and spreading far and wide all across Esshar. For a moment the night skies were illuminated with hundreds of pillars of light, creating a faux aurora borealis for Achyon's greatest to watch.

Blue and green ethreal lighs surrounded them all, ascending to the heavens quietly.

What had they done?
[Narrate]

That didn't look good.

When he looks up to the skies, the Captain only narrows his eyes a little bit at the sights before him; if anything, it felt like this could become the very reason as to why something terrible could be unleashed upon Esshar, but..

As long as it doesn't touch the Empire? He wouldn't feel bad about it.

The other places were their enemy - always remained so.

"Hrm." A quiet mumble- though, soon enough he speaks up.

"We'll need to be on guard."
(Marcel Delisle)