Israfal was troubled. The elf and his party had been wandering around this particular area trying to fix the issue with the local land for a few weeks now, and the Questor who was with them had been getting very jumpy. The wizard shook his head, and looked around at the rotten wood in his hand, trying to discern what had gone wrong with it.

As far as he could tell, it had simply starved. That made very little sense to him, as the recent rain had been plentiful and seasonal. Suddenly, Korus, the Questor yelped, and Israfal quickly scanned their surroundings and began reaching for the scrolls in his bandolier.

The orc waved everyone down. "Just a notification" He said, his deep voice rolling pleasantly over the group. Israfal relaxed. "The source of.. this" The orc waved around at the rotting woods. "Was just eliminated."

Israfal frowned, and looked at Korus closely. Suddenly his partner swore, and he turned to her. "Kalas? What is it?" She pointed, and he turned his head. Violent ephemera were scattering through the sky from a point some miles away. "A priest?" Kalas rapidly shook her head. "Cultist. Has to be. Untrained as well, they just called up an entire Aspected Pantheon."

Israfal and the other two looked at Kalas politely. "Dearest" He started carefully. "We are not all so familiar with clerical terminology..."

Kalas sighed. "Look, anyone can call up the Elemental Spirits with the right rituals." They all nodded. "Ok. Trained clerics can file prayers with their contacts, buy blessings from the Court of Anointed Spirit and so on, right?"

Again, there were nods. Kalas nodded, satisfied. "Then, there are the Pantheons. Anything ranked Lesser God or greater works for them. Most nations maintain their own Pantheons, bound to their Throne, or whatever passes for it if it's a monster kingdom - it's part of the reason Demon Lords are so scary."

"Ah." The last member of their party, one of the Dwarven Nameless, raised his hand. "What is the difference between Gods and Spirits, exactly?" Kalas frowned. "Mostly? Agency. Spirits are bound towards particular purposes or location. Gods can do more or less whatever, much like you or I. Anyway, non-aspected or 'National' Pantheons are like Guilds or Companies of Gods."

She took a deep breath. "Aspected Pantheons are like nations. They include all gods and spirits of or related to a particular thing or principle. You would need to be mad, desperate or both to gamble on their benevolence."

"Justice-" Korus started, but Kalas cut him off with a gesture. "Lady Justice slaughtered and consumed the divine bureaucracy because they were blocking the creation of this World. She is an outlier, and a Pantheon all her own."

There were yet more nods all around. "So." Israfal asked. "What Pantheon was it?" Kalas pursed her lips, and her ears twitched. Israfal winced. He knew his partner, and that was never a good sign when they were out questing. Last time had involved a corrupting spider monster of some sort, and his leg still didn't feel the same. "I am not sure." His partner responded, hefting her shield. "Nothing good can come of tangling with it, but unfortunately we need to go to the origin of it anyway, so we can get to the bottom of this."

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Israfal sighed, and looked at the distant point Kalas had pointed at. "That's going to take another day." He grumbled. Kalas shrugged. "We have to know what we're dealing with."

"Fine." He said. "Let me at least [Channel] some new spells. Something with a bit of oomph." Korus, Kalas and the Nameless nodded, and Israfal took of his bandolier.

He removed his [Shocks] and his [Analyze Natural Object] scrolls, moving them into his pack. The [Seek] charm hanging of on one side flared feebly, orange sparks racing around the engraved runes on the ivory disk, and he made a mental note that it would need replacing.

Then, he started drawing out his foci, and some blank scrolls. "Which way's the zone nadir?" He asked, absently. Korus grunted, and his eyes flashed white. "Under that sleeping dragon." He said, gesturing at the black mountain of mist and flesh. "Immediately beneath it as well. Not something we need to worry about right now."

Israfal nodded, and plopped a shielding focus between the nadir and the rest of his ritual circle. Then, he quickly stabbed three golden needles into the ground. Each of them had a flat head, on which he placed vessels of silver, the bottom of each set with a shimmering gem. He measured out his powedered inks into the vessels. By now, a slight distortion had formed in the air above his ritual, and he drew his curved sword.

A moment later, a set of three circles surrounded the setup. He began cutting pieces of papery bark off his master scroll until he had two dozen sheets, each about the size of his palm. He put everything else away, and handed the pack to Kalas, who pressed a brief kiss onto his cheek before she went off to join the others, white hair flowing in the rising winds around them.

"[Channel Wind][Channel Earth][Channel Fire][Channel Mana][Channel Killing Instinct]" Slaughter flowed through his veins, the ancient war arts of his tribe setting his blood aglow. He knew that Kalas didn't like to see him like this, and that it unnerved Korus, for all that he would stand guard if they were somewhere truly unsafe.

The magic trickled out of him and into the ritual circle, sweeping up the ink dust. He released the first of his blank scrolls, and the gale that now raged around him bore it into the wavering distortion at the heart of his ritual circle. The ink bonded with the scroll almost instantly, and now came the hard part - pulling it out of the proverbial fire.

He growled, exerting his own pull against the wind, and moments later the scroll was back in his hand. By his reckoning, it had taken him 5 minutes from when he started channeling to get it back. He looked at the remaining 20-odd scrolls, and sighed.

"[Channel Wind]"

"[Channel Wind]. [Channel Fire]"

He wished that those two could be more like [Channel Earth], so he wouldn't have to renew them so often.

[Channel Wind]

[Channel Wind]. [Channel Fire]. [Channel Killing Intent].

After slightly more than two hours he was done, twenty four copies of [Pyroclastic Armament] stored away in his bandolier and with the rotting wood featuring a grand new clearing, covering in wood chips.

He went to rejoin his party, so that they could find out what had happened and finally leave this forsaken zone behind.

Alexandra Johnson

Faction: Monster

Subfaction: Itinerant

Species: Human

Blood: 12(+3.6% Endurance, +12% Bloodline)

Bone: 10(+3% Tool Use, +10% Aura)

Flesh:10(+3% Technique Efficiency, +10% Regeneration)

Blessings: [Identify(Justice)]

Techniques: [Spear-Fishing]

Equipment Slots: [Weapon: Spear][Offhand: Tarnished Lantern]

Bloodline: First Serpent