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Pala

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About Pala

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    Journeyman

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    Whatever one I wish to be
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    Somewhere Between here and there

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  1. Unlike what he had hoped for, Ewyer expectation of mind numbing wok failed to became a reality. Perhaps it was his need for internal resolution, his feelings that he must come to a conclusion on where he stood upon the issue of his former "rivalry" with Lucinda, though he still could not picture it as that. Or perhaps that state of being was only helped by his own physical state. True, he was much stronger than a human due to the extraordinary circumstances that lead to his current form, but in his life, physical labour had never been a strong suit. Thus, in his lack of ability, he found himself acting as an assistant on the most part. This job, was far more suited for his skillset. Quick maneuvers about the worksite was his main focus, essentially moving around supplies as he see fit, whether they be the tools used to construct, the items being utilised to make such framework, or simply attempting to aid when he noticed a lack of help for a specific task. This constant state of movement, however, was not nearly enough for him to focus purely on the task at hand. Thus, as to be expected, his thoughts wandered, having been invaded by the statements Asher had made earlier, and had given birth to emotions of which demanded action. They seemingly battled, these feelings, their need for resolution clouding his train of thought, each trying to take hold and decide the final outcome of what he would do. For he knew it, that with this new revelation, that he could not remain idle upon the issue. For so long had he remained contempt to let his relations with Lucinda stagger, to the point where, instead of being good friends as could have been easily accomplished, the man barely even knew her, could hardly even refer to her as an acquaintance. His honour, so relevant so often, boiled up. It tempted him to go for a blunt confrontation, to prove his suspicions true but way of full frontal barrage. The most honest approach, and truly solidify what was truth, and what was fantasy, to see if he had indeed claimed a victory in the supposed contest for his wife's affection. His fear, of simply playing a fool, and accusing a woman who had done him no wrong of such scandalous intent, called for him to simply ignore the issue, to put it out of his path. For, if he were to truly forget about it, none would be harmed. He had won, after all, and thus, to simply confront her about her failure, would just make things worse. Then, came anger, twisted and burning deep within him. For he remembered so many times in which the two, his wife and his "rival" had met up, and though he knew Addison would never dare do anything that would cause a scandal, he was near certain Lucinda, always the flirt, would have tried to make moves upon one who was already claimed. The three emotions, all convoluted with very different outcomes attached, were too simply temporary. For with each of them, came a shred of something that with all three together, formed anew. Determination. Whether it would be good, or whether it would be bad, Ewyer would see the end of it. No doubts would linger upon his mind, as honour called for him to engage. This was no war, there was nothing to fear. He did not depend on Lucinda, and even if word were to get back to his wife, well, he had always been known for being eccentric. He could simply pin it about lack of rest with all the projects he had taken upon himself. Then, his anger. Well, suffice to say, if Lucinda confirmed that his doubts were all too real. . .she would not be spared from his scrutinizing glare, nor would she get the privilege of consequence-less temptations as she would no doubt have been committing beforehand. However, while all this inner arguing and monologuing would have been occurring, the man still managed to carry out work as if he was fine, though to describe his expression, it was clear something was happening with him. Gone was the blank expression, the cloudy eyes filled with nothing more than the dull blue of a sunny sky. Furrows brow, grimly set mouth, and his eyes, so fierce, that a single glare from could could very well have cut through solid steel. If looks were able to kill, his could very well decimate everything that was caught in its path, a instant sweep of pure devastation. As he heard the call for a lunch break, he stopped in his current task, setting down a tool box he had planned to deliver to some needy fellow. Despite his hard work, he didn't bother getting food from his bag, simply two containers. One, most obviously whiskey by its bottle. The other, a canteen, of which he tossed in the direction of Asher, giving the man a single glance as to see where he should throw. Exiting the construction area, he simply climbed as high as he could manage, scrambling up upon a tree as he clambered skywards. Seemingly, the man must have weighed near to nothing, as despite him getting ever higher, the branches beneath him never broke, the weakest merely bending under his lanky and frail looking body. He paid no mind as to the newcomer which seemed to draw the stares of all who saw her, as he merely looked out over the plain, searching for something which he quite quickly found as he gazed upon the roots working as if they were an entire crew. Of course, while he may not have known a lot about Lucinda, he was fully aware of her magical skillset. As such, as he knew where she was, he knew where he was headed to when his work here would be concluded. Though, he wouldn't bother her while she was working, as to get in the way would not help anyone in the slightest. Eventually, however, he knew the time would come when there would be nothing that could stop the confrontation that would take place, of which would be with a distinct lack of subtly that Ewyer could never manage to use, no matter how hard he tried. He would get the answers he yearned for, whether it would bring an end to any form of relations that he and Lucinda had bother to force, or whether it would end in a way he couldn't expect. Resolution, would be obtained. No matter the cost, no matter whose reputation would be cast downwards into either foolishness of uncalled-for assumption, or into dishonour birthed of temptation.
  2. The man once more nodded, eyes rapidly flickering about his surrounding as he unsuccessfully attempted to watch all angles around them. He disliked their situation greatly, due to a lack of everything. The lack of intel of the area, nothing more than what seemed to be stories. There were no average enemy numbers, there was nothing for him to go off of or expect. Thus, his employer's very comment, that being to prepare weapons or spells when he wasn't aware of what to expect, what type of situation to be ready for, agitated him. Contrary to what one would assume, this sort of agitation was good for him. Strong emotions always seemed to interfere with his magic, and though to may have been watered down severely, to him, agitation was just a precursor to rage. In the current situation, his own rage would be useful, obliterating the cover of his enemies which was everywhere in the village it seemed, whether that be buildings, or the very bodies of those who had fallen. All would be set alight in the pursuit of justice, and, compensation in the form of a paycheck. Though, his sense of unease, and of course, his aforementioned agitation, were certainly in no way quelled by his employer. In fact, for her to smile in such a stoic situation, only increased his oncoming anger. It was almost insulting to be comforted in such a way, as if he were nothing more than a spineless child. For he was not afraid within the solid grounds of the city, no far from such a feeble mindset. To him, seeing the death and darkness all around, simply made him want to burn brighter, to consume the empty void of life into a great light, of which befitted the fire that was a certain part of the near future. Then, to make matters even worse, once more came the singing. The infernal noise of taunting, horrid voices joining one another to further set the man into his state of anger, his hair beginning to slowly drift around as aura of heat simply seemed to seep out of him. With the shriek, came the drawing of his secondary blade, which like himself seemed as it could catch alight at seemingly the smallest provocation. He simply wished for a fight, to bright down rightiogeous fury on whatever unfortunate fool were to cross his path. However, hearing the shriek provided hope. Surely such a primal noise couldn't have come from something docile. Thus, as they walked among cold and empty streets, gripping both short swords tightly in his armored hands. Though duel wielding was not his specialty, he simply seemed to be using both in a way of comfort, as if having the ability to swing either blade made him more combat ready. A half-lie, of course, but one he didn't care to acknowledge, at least not yet. And then, much to his joy, and seemingly his companions utter fear, the target appeared. The Shriek, a noise so much closer than what he had heard earlier, though, certainly not different in the slightest, instantly captured his attention. As he pivoted, he gazed upon the creature of nightmares, or so one of inexperience could call the monstrosity of flesh, so horribly twisted from what it may have once been, that it could not be recognized as anything more than a beast. And thus, as Ewyer watched it leap from its perch above, his eyes alit with ecstatic splendor, his body moving forth as he knew that his employer, while quite possibly more than able to defend herself, was nowhere near a shield in which to receive the brunt of such attacks from the creature. However, he also knew that he didn't possess the speed to properly interfere or attack, as only one could be done with full success in mind. With such in mind, he failed to complete either one task or the other, Slamming a metal plated hand into Shanna, hoping to simply slam her out of the way. Continuing on his trajectory, the man continued to swing, dropping the short sword of ornate and fiery design upon the ground, as with both hands he gripped the blade he had held in his hands since the beginning. In whatever few precious seconds he may have had before the hostile creature would reach him, he simply willed. As he had done before, with this sword seemingly so plain and nothing more than steel, he willed it to change. As he would complete his spin, and most certainly be hit by the beast, now standing within its path, his blade would morph, a quiet ringing coming from the metal as it became much longer, much heavier, and oh so much more devastating.
  3. As the situation within the cavern quickly began to escalate, Ewyer noticed the rising liquid. That of course, was alarming, but not in a way which was troublesome for himself. He lifted a foot as it continued to rise, ignoring the screeches and screams of the infantile monstrosities around him. As he booted foot would come down on the liquid, his eyes fueled by magic would seemingly ignite. Like a way to focus his powers, of which he had remembered not to leave unused, the dampness of the liquid was utilised. It began as a single step, embedded within the liquid, then another, to raise him higher, and a third, to get him on top of the pool which was rapidly raising in volume. These little stepping stones would almost immediately return to their original form, however, as no longer were they being forced into a colder state of temperature. Freezing to a solid in an instant, he stepped upon a small platform he had created in a rushed manner, wobbling upon it as he attempted to maintain balance. The platform of frozen gel like liquid grew, to encompass a circular shape of which had a diameter or about a meter. The platform was imperfect, and continuously cracked and reformed under the man's weight, before becoming solid enough to hold him. It was then, however, the redhead noticed that there were far more creatures within the cavern then there were before. Or, he supposed, there were far more now than he had noticed earlier. He rapidly began trying to understand the situation, looking from Cal, who by the look of the axe in the man's hand, and the nearby creature producing the wails, had started the encounter. As he stood upon his heightened post, spikes of frozen fluid formed upon the bottom of the platform, as it became fully structured into a pillar like formation. He had not a clue on what he should be doing, and simply pivoted around, fear in his movements as he slowly began to grasp the very unfortunate situation they were in.
  4. The man grunted at the comment, having assumed such a thing himself. His eyes continued to hold their willful gaze, even though he himself knew that no deity nor place of comfort waited for him should he succumb to death on this voyage. Realistically, he had no gods to pray to, for those which had once been his people's divines no longer existed. As those who had once been his people no longer existed either, nor had they for a long time. Whether or not that would be his fate, no prayers were muttered from his mouth as he watched the woman who was supposedly the supplier of their paychecks for this "adventure." At her question though, he nodded. A simple confirmation, not much else was required. He was most certainly prepared for the oncoming slaughter, even though he expected the lightly armored compatriots to struggle. For even if not the receiver of antagonization, he intended to kill anything that crossed the party's path, whether it be the first or second time said being would have to die. If such were the case, the oncoming combat would certainly be something, and he was worried their group would be prone to disorganization. None the less, he simply took hold of the rope, keeping a tight grip upon it, as splitting up would make them easy prey should any sort of creature rest within the wall of fallen cloud. Whether or not Evelynn or the Black dress wearing women used it as well, he did not wait to find out. Right behind his employer, he advanced, silent minus the quiet clinking of chainmail moving with his footsteps. As they advanced through the aforementioned fog, he noticed the heinous smell of corruption and rot increase in potency, but still gave no sort of reaction, simply taking it at a blunt level. His on-edge state of mind, however, didn't react well to the singing, his jaw setting itself more firmly in place as he grit his teeth, and gripped both hands on the short sword he carried. In almost a blink of an eye, it shifted into a longer formation, and Ewyer simply glanced around, hearing the sounds that no person in this place would be making. For none within the confines of a place so tainted by filth, the very town itself as corrupted and rotten as those bodies, could possibly find it time to practice the vocal arts unless they themselves carried the corruption. ". . .Shall we move to the square then? It's too late to get cold feet, I'm afraid. This is an intimidation tactic, most likely - to flee would almost certainly lead us into the jaws of death, and even if it did not, to allow these heretics to live is a crime onto itself. I wouldn't be surprised if they're moving all around us, unseen and with a severe lack of mercy on their minds." He said, disgust flowing out of every word he spoke regarding those he assumed lied within the village's borders. At the same time, old militaristic instincts wedged their way into his thoughts, remnants of a time when he belonged to a single creed. @Raptor
  5. Ewyer's expression became nothing more than the confused look of a man who very obviously wasn't used to such statements being made. However as he allowed the idea to enter his thought process- and played with it but a tad, he realised that Asher's guess was fairly likely to have been close to the truth. Though of course, along with that came a whole new stream of thoughts. Alongside these conflicting thoughts, came two rather strong emotions. Those being the very commonly known thoughts of remorse, and that of pride. Then again, that is just what he assumed they were. He tried to reason why he felt as such, and found both emotions were interconnected- so much so that they both had the same cause, and yet, gave birth such opposite feelings. The pride of course, came from the fact that this supposed history- if it were truth, and nothing more than the speculations of a strange man, proposed that he had won. In the supposed triangle for Addison's affection, he had prevailed, and secured the almighty eternal bond, that being marriage. Yet, the thoughts of remorse, feelings of pity toward Lucinda, came from the same source. The reason why, was that Ewyer hadn't even realised he was in a triangle. He hadn't even considered Lucinda a rival, that she had ever even had a chance with the woman who was now his wife. He hadn't cared enough to try and form some sort of bond with the supposed rival, because he simply assumed she disliked him for no reason. ". . .If what you say is actually the truth. . .I have no doubt as to why Miss Valentine seems to hold no more than a minor acquaintanceship towards me. Though. . .It always makes me feel rather sad. From the first time I met Addison, I knew she was someone I could easily admire- and fairly quickly our relationship developed into something far greater than simply admiring one another- But the fact of the matter is, my wife proposed to me. Lucinda. . .utterly failed, if she was intending to win in this struggle I never even realised was a competition. . .If anyone was the third wheel. . .I'm afraid it was her." He went silent for a few moments, simply thinking to himself, before sending the thoughts away- He was certain that before this job was over, he'd have a chance to ask the supposed former rival for Addison's love. His expression turned to that of a frown, his brow furrowed. He didn't like that fact now, that Lucinda had always attempted to spend so much time with his beloved. In a way, not even for the fact that advances may have been attempted. Just for the simple fact that it was pathetic, for if the adult woman still tried after she had most obviously lost, even to the point where she had no chance whatsoever- it was simply disappointing to see someone fall to such gestures of disrespect. "In any case. . .I suppose I'll assist with the moving. Physical labour always seems to make thought unneeded." Ewyer's voice carried that same sort of foul tone, though I suppose it could be expect given the thoughts he was having. It was simply disappointment mixed with the thoughts that such a person they thought highly of could act so indecent. He followed Will's example, grabbing whatever he could carry in his arms from within the crate. He then simply followed will, not having paid much attention to Asher's physical gestures. Thus, he didn't know exactly where to go- so he decided to best to just follow someone else. @Praetorian @Lucinda Valentine
  6. As the connection was inevitably made, Ewyer couldn't help but feel disappointed, if only a little. Though of course, he was proud of his wife's achievements, as she had done things he'd always be amazed by, he had always disliked living in another persons shadow. It couldn't be helped, however- retirement had kept him to his own devices for quite some time. Though he had been working on many decent projects, nothing of that sort would be finished for quite some time- if any of it at all would ever be publicly revealed. None the less, he put on a smile, and attempted to sound chipper. "Indeed, she and I are-" His mouth hung open, his words coming to a full stop, as he thought over the second comment made. "Pardon- you're sorry?" he asked, confused. The man's aforementioned thoughts of disappointment were instantly swept aside as he prepared to enter an argument. Though as he did so, opening his mouth to launch the first words of confusion, accompanied this time by anger, the metallic crack sounded off. Once more only having been focusing on his own thinking, the man was caught off guard by the movement and noise, and flinched backwards, placing a foot behind him so he didn't topple and make a fool of himself. He grumbled in a low tone, "You seem rather excited about making a damn bunker," before inhaling deeply, and letting the air exhale through his nose. Supposedly breathing exercises were able to induce calmness. He had yet to see it work. At this point, Ewyer began feeling the oncoming rush of a headache. His times spent only with his nice, quiet inventions in his nice, quiet home, with the occasional visit from his nice, quiet friends- were far different than this. That much, was obvious. However, his thoughts flashed to Lucinda. Even if he was not enjoying his stay, he hadn't received a request for assistance once since meeting the woman, until now. The least he could do was power through the social interaction section, and do the one job asked of him. His attention directed itself thus to what he assumed was now Eris, deciding against continuing the previous conversation direction. "Oh shush you, worst case scenario would have been a bruise, unless your bones are as fragile as an eggshell. Besides, if I did kill you, it'd most likely be an accident. Murder isn't a reoccurring pastime of mine." He watched the small woman change back, and walk over to him, noting his mistake. "Lady Addison? I'm not sure if that's the correct term for her these days, but more or less, yes." He smiled at such a formal designation, even though it did fit her personality. He chuckled at the young woman's comment of Addison being famous, though to be honest, it was true. At least, he assumed that's what you became after starting a nation, after being such an influential figure as she had been before. "I'll assume, in any case, by "Mistress" you mean Lucinda, and if so. . .me and her never really clicked, despite both of us spending a lot of time around one another. Why, at one point even, she decided to room with us while pregnant, back in the old world. However I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't bother to speak about me what-so-ever." he stopped for a moment, catching his breath before speaking once more. "She always seemed. . .annoyed by me, though I could never understand why. It only seemed to worsen after I and Addison were wed. I've never been able to figure out the cause- I've never wronged her, in any case." He frowned at the situation regarding the two of them, before waving it off. "Now however, I believe she might have gotten over it, which is for the best." All in all, even if his last statement wasn't true, he saw no reason to dwell on the possible one sided hate, and simply addressed the next point of conversation casually. "Ah- I think what your armored friend-" his sentence stopped, as he made a side gesture to Asher "had in mind was different than what I've been doing. I am no architect, simply somewhat of an engineer and craftsman." And, finally, he offhandedly commented "Though I'd love to see what you could do with a blade, if you could even use one. However if what I've gone through in my life so far didn't manage to kill me, I strongly doubt you could, miss." @Lucinda Valentine @Praetorian
  7. The redhead's expression shifted to confusion, as he glanced over at the man who seemed to have far more technical knowledge than he had assumed. Then again, he had assumed such a lack, due to appearance alone. Internally, he chided himself for such thoughts. One did not have to look like a scholar to be one, nor did one have to be a scholar to understand simple things. "I suppose you are correct, though my intentions are more of- "How can I make sure this won't kill everything around-" type of deal. Though I didn't think of making the generator underground-" He once more opened up his book, and continued scrawling in his unintelligible handwriting "-That's not a half bad idea, I might go with that. . ." He muttered, before his head jolted upwards. Clearing his throat, the man tilted his head down slightly for but a moment. The most minimalist sort of bow he had ever done. "Ewyer Nacht, though I suppose you won't know me. My wife's become more famous than I have, in recent times." Despite what one would assume, the comment was said more with pride than anything else. He turned towards the man who had been holding the illusionist, his tone shifting to a more nervous state. "Though erm, they can be weaponized, it is not my preferable usage of the items. Its rather difficult to get good gems, or at least, it was. Now though, there are an abundance of mythical creatures about, so they can be filled quite quickly." He didn't further elaborate on his process regarding the gems, simply deciding it best not to. He continued writing, though as his eyes glanced upwards, and saw the new formation of magic, he chuckled. It was mildly humorous, after all. "I'm afraid miss that illusion abilities are mostly just that. Party tricks and spectacle. Though of course, there have been and will be a few good uses, most of them require the enemy to be unexperienced with your preferred branch. Not to mention as soon as your magical ability is discovered, most of its edge is dulled. Trickery does not equal might, not matter how intimidating this or any other formation may seem, and usually after fooled a first time, it gets harder to be fooled a second." From a pocket located on his pants, he retrieved a small bolt, and raising it to his eye, before flickering the metallic object. It spun through the air, its trajectory going upwards, before falling and gaining speed. Its target, though hard to properly tell exactly where on the body, was rather obviously the "Man," though it was most likely a new illusion, which had just seemingly appeared. As people do, of course. @Lucinda Valentine @Praetorian
  8. Ewyer has already been on edge from the impossibly large structure, but with the addition of the siren, that edge was transformed into panic. The noise startled him, of course, no less could be expected. However, the object itself had already made him feel unease. At the very least it had seemed dead, or in less organic terms, inoperable. Thus, being shown the craft had the ability to produce noise, even that of such mechanical and unmanned nature, pushed the man over the edge. He snapped, primordial instincts taking over as his eyes flickered about, expecting an attack from any or all sections of the massive infrastructure. As none came, he simply hoped for the best, taking a solid step backwards. This didn't seem like a job for him after all, and curiosity had been more than satisfied. He'd rather flee the scene in a cowardly manner, than wait for an attack which could eradicate them all from this, and perhaps all planes of existence. Yet, even as he took yet another step, his hands opening to call forth small swaths of flame as he awaited the worst, and prepared himself to fight, he didn't realise the loss of another crucial feeling. For the fight that occurred was one few could beat, after all. His hands quivered his body tensing as he no longer felt solid ground under him. The situation however, was much worse than he initially assumed, as once he started falling, he didn't stop. This in itself, was an issue, as an enemy such as gravity was just a tad bit harder to fight than most enemies were, though it was understandable why. Ewyer's body flailed about, the ground looking as if it was rushing upwards, when he was in fact plummeting downwards. Though while his body seemed to fall in a slow motion, at least, to him, the man ran through his options. He couldn't know what laid at the bottom, at least, not until it was too late. In addition, he had nothing one him that could break his fall, nothing that could slow him from hitting the ground and could be deployed instantly. Thus, he attempted to entice wings to form, the only option he could think of to save him. Yet, this too was in vain, as instead, simply dark mass spiraled around him, unable to form given the lack of time and stability to do so. A few seconds went by, mind racing for a way to survive the fall. However, as he hit the "liquid." A surprised grunt accompanied his landing, his only response. As he recovered from the fall, standing upwards from the strange and unnerving "liquid", he grimaced. While the situation of being near the supernatural structure wasn't the greatest, this one was far worse. He had no idea how far down they had landed, nor the way out. He thought himself lucky to have survived the fall, though supposed it wasn't his doing at all that he had been so fortunate. His thoughts were cut short, however, by the sound of one of those who had fallen. His eyes glanced to the side, as they constantly shifted between different sights given the low light level. Yet in-between seeing magical signatures, and seeing defined shapes, he too, could understand the mans issue. He never liked children, much less ones that were like this. So, in this situation, it seemed acceptable that he did as he was told, attempting to not-so-slowly move away from the oncoming creature.
  9. The usually chipper redhead seemed to be in a grim mood, as he couldn't fathom such excitement for a task such as what laid ahead. Though adventuring was Ewyer's favourite profession, his beliefs conflicted with his goal on this trip. His attire eluded to the weight those beliefs carried, and what they required, easily. Discarded was the light travelling gear, the scholarly vest and the various small trinkets. replacing the items were pieces of armor, Plates looking so aged they could be in a museum. A set of gauntlets, a pair greaves, and a chest piece, each of them all so dull and rusted that they had turned a dirty shade of brownish-grey. The five metal pieces looked like generations had spanned since their creation. Though, such a description wasn't incorrect. Yet the steel remained thick, still strong despite being almost as old as the scholar who wore them. Underneath of course, a mixture of mail and leather. While in territory that was filled with hostiles, being unprepared simply lead to death. The man looked ready to go to war, as he had so many times in his past, carrying not on, but three blades, two strapped down at his waist, while a short sword of non-descript design was held in his hands. He seemed jumpy, as he moved in a tense walk. His stance was that of one who expects combat, and not combat that could be found a leveled playing field. People who associate with the dead and damned, end up using them for their own goals regularly, or so he had learned from experience. "The smell of those who value the dark over even life itself is what it is. Only those of Necrotic or Demonic power do such harm to the world around them." He stated, disdain accompanying his every word. "Don't be so excited for what lies ahead. Not to mention, its best not to stare at anything to long if you wish to keep your lunch. These hovels of sin are home to freaks, usually. The things these types of people do. . .They'll be where they belong by the end of this trip, in any case. I'll be certain to make sure they get there, even if I have to rip them apart, instead of cutting them down." He didn't seem to care enough about the smell to visibly react to it, his face simply blank as his eyes carried his fury. Despite his words of anger and violence, he seemed to have made an exception, or at the very least, turned a blind eye. He made no attempt to say anything to Evelynn about her "pet." There was going to be enough trouble, and infighting would destroy them faster than enemies would, he was certain. Best to simply hold his tongue, for the moment.
  10. Upon waking up, the first thing Ewyer did was his usual routine. For once, he had actually been able to sleep in a bed, which had been a great experience. While resting on the ground may be possible, something stopping your body from twisting all about, was usually desired. After tidying himself up, the soon-to-be scientist made his way through the facility. Recalling landmarks as best he could, he ended his journey though his new home at a familiar door, or so he assumed. Without much thought being put into it, he placed a hand upon it, and entered the room. It was a nice surprise to find it unlocked, at the very least, and to see Hawk inside. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he knew he was at least with someone who could guide him to the right places. "Morning!" He said, chipper as he entered, and shut the door behind him. "So, what's planned for today? I assume I'll get started on the armor immediately?" @Hawk
  11. A flurry of wings propelled the self-proclaimed scientist forward, moving through the air as if a bullet. What Ewyer had assumed would be an ordinary flight across the countryside, an attempt to clear his mind, had been stained with whatever this was. His gaze, and thoughts, were focused upon the area in which utter devastation has seemingly slammed down into the earth with fury. He muttered to himself, angling himself more vertical, as his boots landed upon the earth, and he stumbled forward. The artificial wings upon his back flash-froze, and shattered apart, the shards of frozen scales melting upon the ground as they fell. Quickly, however, he recovered his balance, pin-wheeling his arms behind him, as he slowed and then stopped himself from falling forward. The fact that he had landed so efficiently was lucky- another meter forward spent moving forward, or even to fall forward accidentally, and he would have rolled down the crater's side, most likely severally injuring himself as he slammed upon dirt and stone. As he looked down into the large bowl-like scar upon the ground, his eyes widened as he got a full look at. . .he couldn't even describe it if he knew how. From his pocket, he retrieved his spectacles, wiping his eyes, as he put them on. A shaky breath emerged from within the confines of his open mouth. He couldn't dare try to analyse what he was seeing. He could barely believe it after all. "Good. . .Good god." He whispered, staring at the crashed construct. His gaze shifted upwards, and simply found itself sitting there, as the man couldn't fathom what this was. He had seen the airships of the various factions within the confines out the known world, and this. . .was far too different to have been from any of them, he assumed. As he looked back down, his eyes noticed that of the three other people who had arrived on the scene. He quickly moved forward. He couldn't make out who the figures were, but if some unknowing fools had marched over to an unidentified craft, who knows what else they would do. At the very best, they could get injured from the heat. At the very worst, they could somehow activate whatever this thing was. What that could do, he surmised, was anything from defenses, to possible complete annihilation. Thus, he slid down the side of the crater, himself angled, one foot behind him and another in front, low as to not have his center-point of gravity be in a position where he could easily tumble forward, and as stated previously, seriously injure himself. His sliding finished, as he stood up, and placed his first foot into the bottom of the massive hole. He couldn't help but once more glance at the giant metallic object. The man didn't even realise that it was a craft, for his knowledge on aircraft, even that of humanities primitive planes when compared to this masterpiece, was extremely limited. No noise was made from the fellow, as he simply stood nearby the three, within a dozen or so meters. ". . .Perhaps divines truly do exist. . .how can such a thing as this. . .even exist, within the ability of humanity and the various other mythicals. . .Its . . .simply otherworldly. . ." He murmured to himself, his voice once more becoming shaky, unaware of how correct he was. His arms simply. . .fell to his sides. Overwhelmed by the sight that was laid not to far away from him. At this distance, he could observe even less of the unnatural constructs height, as it simply seemed to stretch far into the sky.
  12. Ewyer simply stared at the position where his notebook had been, for a few moments. His rather sleep deprived mind didn't seem to register it was gone. The rather feminine voice speaking in his ears didn't help to alleviate his sudden thoughts of himself having gone insane from lacks of said sleep. And yet, and voice seemed to be coming from an external source. He had just managed to look over his side to see a girl hanging upside down, before she vanished. Calmly setting down his quill, he reached into his bag, and once more retrieved his bottle. He took a sip from the alcohol filled container, with a small mutter to himself. Though, after his book suddenly appeared in his lap again, he snapped out of his tunnel vision like state. He simply stared at the young woman who had introduced herself, not speaking nor showing much facial expression, however after he saw her vanish once more, he stood up. The bottle was dropped, and left with the bag, no care being used to ensure any sort of security. He casually walked over to what he could now see as three people, letting out a yawn as he approached. Stopping within a meter's distance of them, he quietly listened to the man's explanation of "Eris's" powers. His glance shifted to the two men, and then back over to the empty expanse of land. He pivoted, his body following his eyes, before he seemed to ask a question half to himself, and half to the other three. ". . .How wide of a crater do you think an imploding, and then exploding soul gem would create. . .? No more than a few hundred meters?" He squinted, his hand moving to take a pair of spectacles out from a pocket, and put them on. He then glanced back at the three, and seemed to examine each of them. ". . .I mean. . .what a lovely morning. . .this is." @Lucinda Valentine @Praetorian
  13. Ewyer, silent as a smile found place upon his face, simply stared out into the water. He was satisfied with the victory they had achieved, along with the immense amount of treasure they had procured. He sat down on the beach, letting out a sigh of relief. Despite the intense danger they had faced. . .he hadn't felt so much exhilaration or adrenaline is a long time. He let out a yawn, and began speaking. "Perhaps we could do this again another time." He said, mostly talking to himself in a quiet tone. He drummed his fingers on the sand, and chuckled. "Though some practice may be useful. We could do a lot if we try to work alongside one another. . .should together we venture into danger and disaster once more. . ."
  14. Ewyer returned the smile, as he kept his eyes on his friend. A small yawn escaped his mouth, his compounding exhaustion beginning to show visually. None the less, he attempted to stay chipper. "Well, I might stop in every now and again," He winked after the statement, the smile on his face shifting into a grin. "But yes, I'll make sure to go from baby steps to leaps and bounds as quickly as I'm able. Gunpowder took me only a few weeks to learn, and this isn't nearly as advanced considering where I had to begin from back then. Its simply an upgrade to infrastructure I already have mastered." He shifted a glance around the room, his gaze rather relaxed. He had no reason to remain guarded, as per usual. This may have very well been safer than his own home was, minus the super-soldier like guardian he was fortunate enough to be married to. "If I manage to get to sleep, then I'll certainly try to be be up by then. For now though. . .There's a lot of work to do, and I need to take off my training wheels as fast as possible. . ." He brushed his hands over the blueprints of what would be some of his greatest work thus far, if he was able to accomplish the feat of creating such grand armor. "For the greater good of humanity, its our job to push forth ourselves, and eventually push forth the entirety of science itself. Naïve as it may sound. . .I'm certain we can accomplish it." His genuine smile returned as he finished. @Hawk
  15. Ewyer raised an eyebrow, finding it rather humorous that the woman who a dozen times before had shown herself to be loud and rather immature, stood in front of him with such grace. He left himself smile at the fact, his lopsided grin quickly shifting away. Once more his face was overcome with a blank expression, as he leant against the tree he had crashed into but a few minutes prior. As he watched her walk away, and begin her grand speech of orders and whatnot, he relaxed. Sliding down into a sitting position, the man inhaled deeply, before running his hands through his hair. "Sir, am I? It seems she's changed as well." he muttered to himself, chuckling at the very idea that Lucinda Valentine, of all people, had changed from tomboyish to prim and proper. However, he had been asked here to assist, and it was obvious where his assistance would be required, so best not to stall with thoughts that could be answered later. Thus, he immediately grabbed the tools of his trade. Those being a journal and quill pen, of course, as his initial process of brainstorming and writing unreadable notes would soon commence. Tapping the uninked shaft of it against the pages, he began to speak to himself. "Most likely a few hundred buildings, of which lights and heating shall need to be configured. . .there appears to be a fair amount of open space so perhaps wind power could be used, though turbines still appear. . . sketchy. Perhaps. . .I suppose the most useful assets may be attempting that gathering field addition I had in mind, though hopefully it won't operate with such explosive after effects." He though at his own pace, far leisurely then he did when he was on the clock for a project. After all, he was fairly certain that no other scientists, engineers, or whatever aesthetic title they had made up now to give to those of extraordinary craftsmenship were on the site. He simply began writing in the leather bound book, sprawling his ideas out. A single dip of the quill into an inkwell positioned nearby marked the start of the nonstop writing and sketching. Occasionally, an idea or line would be obliterated by ink, as Ewyer attempted to rationalize the easiest way to manufacture and distribute the required energy. In his own unique style, of course. He wouldn't settle for something that wasn't his own creation, though inspiration was rapidly evolving.
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