[OOC: I know this is long, but since it's a setup post for our main world, and the gathering, I felt it was necessary. When posting your intro, please already have sent me the Bio you are going to use for your dedicated character in Fate. Any questions, please please PM me before you post, if you're unsure about anything. You are welcome, in your post, to be Called by the group, and appear in the City, just read the bottom part of my post to see how your journey will look, and stuff.]







The city, if it could be called as such, floated just along the edges of reality, phasing in and out of the vast stretches of the Multiverse at whim. Its location was never the same, forever drifting through the darkness in the hopes of drawing those to its Halls that were meant to be found. The city itself rested upon a large black rock, the last remnant of a destroyed world. For eons the planet had gone unnoticed and unused, the buildings and palaces held therein being held in the same condition that they had been when abandoned, kept safe from the ravages of time, for it no longer existed in that fast-flowing stream.


Black and white spires reached up toward the heavens from a single building in the center of the city, a square construction without window or noticeable door. It was in this Caste that the last members of the royal family had sacrificed their lives to save what was left of their civilization, though there efforts were fruitless as the world was torn to pieces. The structure was only accessible by the will of the building, for in its halls rested secrets of both time and space, and power to change events, if one contained the blessings of the Gods, or so they thought.

Surrounding that black, squat building was a range of housing and palaces, ranging out in a circular pattern until the final home ended at the end of their world, half of it broken and long since fallen into the abyss. Along one of those precarious edges sat a Temple, though its master was unknown and long passed from memory.

What will soon be called the Temple of Fate is a silver construction in the rough shape of a pyramid, with seven platforms stacking upwards toward the uppermost plateau, where sits a single throne. In the time when the world was alive, and its population living, the Temple had been one of seven scattered throughout the planet. Each platform symbolized the rise or fall of a nation, and on each landing there had been a throne for that nation’s ambassador. After the Great War, all countries but one fell, thus the only remaining throne.

Now though, this City-World rides the winds and whims of a power beyond its own, and that power is beginning to gather.

Other worlds, long destroyed and abandoned, have been gathered over the vast amount of time that has passed since the destruction of this City, and now they are all connected through unseen corridors, passable only by those gifted with the knowledge of their existence.

This place has been awakened, and its temple has once more flared into vibrant life. It has begun a calling, a calling that will draw to it men and women from every walk of life.

That call will bring them to this place, this world called Evercity.

The calling of Fate.











The sword whistled inches above his head as he ducked, knees bending to take the weight of his body. As soon as the blade was out of range and before it could be twisted and brought back on a reverse path to cleave his skull in half, he struck. His body sprang forward off his bended knees, left hand touching and pushing against the ground to give him a slightly higher amount of effectual force, his right fist drew back with wisps of brown twirling about it. He threw his right hand forward, fist crashing into the abdomen of the man seeking to kill him, the Earth element adding a tremendous amount of power into the simple punch. The sound of crushing cartilage and snapping vertebra told him the battle was over seconds before the assassin crumbled to the floor, useless.

Kale stood and retrieved his staff from the ground where he had dropped it minutes before. He wasn’t sure who he’d managed to piss off this time, but it could be anyone from an angry son to a pissed off father with a non-virginal daughter. The man shrugged and left the bar, empty now save the lone swordsman, groaning and writhing what muscles he could still manage to move.

The sky outside the bar shone bright with stars, unnaturally close on this world. No moon could be seen, but he knew the dark orb was there somewhere, hiding just beyond the swirling nebula that permeated their little corner of the universe. He began making his way down the street, bathed in the starlight, void of any electric means of illumination. Four steps were all he managed to take before he knew someone was following him, very closely for that matter. What made him slightly uneasy was the simple fact that even with tapping into his Elements; he couldn’t sense them on the ground, or in the air.

“She is going to die, tonight.”

Kale spun, his metallic staff a blur in his hands as he struck out at… nothing. His violet eyes swept the street behind him, then up, but still nothing leapt out into his vision.

“What will you do?”

The voice spoke just above his shoulder, whispering into his left ear. He spun again, but like before saw nothing but an empty road.

No… not empty, not anymore. Several blocks away walked a young-looking girl, alone for all he could see. In the darkness she looked scared, but not so much that it kept her indoors. He noticed in her hand a red bag with the symbol of the Mediactors, meaning she had been out for medicine. She turned down an alley and vanished, but not alone any longer. From the shadows a man emerged, his body covered in black from head to toe, his steps disturbing neither dust nor air currents.

“Kale, her fate is to be killed here this night. She will not suffer, she will not be raped. Her body will never be found, and her brother will die from a sickness this very night. All of this has been written from the dawn of time, and tonight her weave is being taken from the pattern, as it was forever meant to be.”

“I don’t understand,” Kale whispered, unable to move.

“You were born out of fate, Kale. You were never meant to be, but through the power of two wayward Gods, you were brought into existence. What will you do?”

His body snapped from its paralysis and he ran, the currents of air wrapping around his body, propelling his form across the ground faster than any normal man could ever wish for. He pushed through the darkness of the alley entrance, just in time to see the man in black lifting the girl against a filthy wall, his large hand clasped around her slender throat, squeezing the life from her limbs.

Kale launched into the air and forward, staff lifted, bringing the length of unknown metal down against the assailant’s skull. At impact, the end of the rod released a single pulse of energy, the pulse flooding through the man’s body, bursting his heart and lungs. He landed and caught the girl as she fell from the limp grip of the dead man. After making sure she still lived, he carried her to the street and laid her there, knowing that soon the security force would be coming to investigate the bar fight, and would find her. The medicine he placed on her chest, her hands folded across the small bag. She was already beginning to stir, so he quickly retrieved his staff and left the street and the light, walking until the darkness covered him completely, wondering just what the fuck had happened.

“To answer your question, Kale, you have the power to fight Fate, to change what will be to what should be. There are others that possess this power, men and women that should never have been created, or should already be dead, but somehow live. They will find you, if you call to them, Kale.”

“I… don’t even know what you’re talking about lady…call them how? Why?”

“To become what you were never meant to be. An Agent of Change, a group that can fight what will happen in the future, to fight what is coming. Everything has an end, Kale, but it doesn’t have to be THE end. Will you accept this calling, Child of Fate?”

He thought about it for a moment. What was he doing? He drifted from planet to planet, fighting any that showed the least bit of interest in battling, usually killing them for no reason other than they lost, and fucking. That was basically the entire summary of his existence. Tonight though… tonight he had done something for someone other than himself. If what the voice said was true… this didn’t have to be the last time he could have this feeling of rightness. Suddenly though, he knew that it would not always be about saving a life, for he knew that people sometimes needed to be killed as well as saved.

“Why not? What else do I have to do?”

At once, his body was jerked from its place in the universe and sent crashing through time and space, soaring along a corridor of color and madness, watching as worlds and people passed by just on the outskirts of his vision. For what seemed like days, or maybe years, he was thrown through the annals of the universe, finally coming to a stop, only to find himself lying on the ground in front of a strange, cube like building.

“This is the Caste. Only those of your calling may enter its halls, and know the secrets held within.”

“Where am I?”

“This place is called Evercity, and its history is held within this building. Enter when you are ready, this world now belongs to you, to Fate. When the time comes, you will find other worlds connected through this one City, use them as you will, for I now pass the obligation to you, Kale. Know this though; She will try to stop you. You will be a thorn in her side, have been since your first breath.”

“Who? Who is she,” the man said, speaking to the air as he looked up and down at the large building, noticing the large black and white mottled spires tipping towards the black sky above.

“Fate. You are fighting her, Kale. Oh, I know your group shall be called Fate, but never doubt that if she were ever to find you, it would be her sole mission in creation to break you in half, and those with you. Gather those who will fight along side you, call them.”

Without another word, Kale entered the building, walking through the wall as if through a waterfall. Inside he found a single room with doors branching off to other rooms and halls. In this room though, there was a wall of monitors, none labeled, though each showing moving pictures of men and women, those he would Call.

He pressed a red button under each monitor, sending out the signal that would guide them to him, to Fate.

Marxan walked through the corridors of the space station, its walls literally sparkling with cleanliness. Various species walked throughout the station, ranging from the small to the tall, from the wide to the thin. There were species of every size and colour, every shape and size. This was a gathering point for every species from ever corner of the known galaxy. Marxan recognized most of them, except for some that even he didn't recognize. He had been to almost any corner of the galaxy, practicing his skills and getting better at the different elements. He had spent months on ice planets practicing the ice element, in cities practicing the element of metal and on other planets of various elements. He had grown quite skilled in those elements. He looked out the windows of the station.

The station was orbiting a planet covered in forests. In it lived a people of tree-dwellers. In fact there were two dominant species on that planet. One was small, barely 2 feet tall but they gathered in large numbers. Another was huge around 7 feet tall with weapons that seemed to be drawn from the forest yet were as advanced as any technology he had seen before. Both species shared a unique similarity. They were both covered in hair. The forests they lived in were hundreds of feet tall. The forest floor was rarely visited as it was full of wild and ferocious creatures.

As Marxan walked he communicated telepathically with the two worms located in his arms. They were as smart as a human being but could not communicate with other creatures. In fact Marxan believed they had not yet told him their full history and why they buried into him in the first place. They seemed to be hiding something from him but what? But that was not he was discussing with them through their link. They were discussing the mental communication Marxan had been given a few minutes ago that was directing him on this course. This mental connection told him to go certain directions. Why he could not tell but he felt compelled to listen to it.

As he walked on the connection told him to turn left then turn right. He wound up going down a maintenance hallway filled with small pipes and vents at every conceivable point and angle. Has he walked on the connection grew silent so he started to turn back but then he heard it tell him to continue going and so he did. He continued walking straight ahead, conversing with the worms embedded in his arms. He then stopped because he just saw something really odd. There was a bright red door in front of him which was odd seeing as the rest of the hallway was painted in complete gray. So before he went any further he shot one of the worms out at a metal pipe. It ate a hole of the pipe so it began to blow steam everywhere.

Right then he underwent a huge change. His skin and clothes were covered with a metallic covering that seemed to flow like molten steel. It stopped at his face and at the small circular openings in his palms where he shot the worms from. He then extended the two worms out to their full length which was 6 feet and kept parts of them limp while the the end parts were kept rigid to turn the worms into whips. He opened the door prepared for a new adversary and was shocked which was unusual as in this form he wasn't supposed to feel any emotion other than animosity. The site before him shocked him to the vary core.

Far in the shadowed lands, under the baleful moon of eternal sleep, deep in the recesses of the monolithic castle a figure tossed and turned in a fitful slumber. Slowly the dreaming queen focused her attention on a small image in a holon far removed from her. The great dreamer stirred in the shadow-haunted chambers. In a holon far away from the dark planet stands a man offering new experiences. The queen roared in her dreams, a roar that echoed through the dream threads of all the Xindhi and they shuddered in their slumber.

In the grand hall, one form stirred among the elongated shadows that stretched across the dusty marble floor. Rising from the elaborate sarcophagus a figure emerged, the dusky colored chain armor rang hollowly as the metal brushed the hard obsidian that had encased the body. The armored form peered around the mist-haunted gloom; a brief crackle of energy echoed through the eerie, silent halls.

With a singular purpose, the figure stepped lightly on the marble, as he did so the eye sockets blazed with an amethyst fury, the miasma of energy swirled around the face and drifted upward to dissipate a scant few feet above his head. Facing the large elaborate sarcophagus, the man took a knee, the harsh clack of the metal knee upon the marble echoed loudly in the grand hall.

“My Queen I rise and serve…” rasped the voice as the amethyst energies focused on the vast stone structure that dominated the hall. The great dreaming queen smiled as the voice reached her, “Skallagrim, I seek understanding of this Evercity. I can think of no emissary better to represent me than you.”

With a slight rasp of metal on leather, the figure stood solemnly. Grasping his swords from their place in the sarcophagus, he placed them in their creaking leather sheaths. With a nod towards the dreaming queen, Skallagrim murmured, “I shall ride forth and observe this Evercity, whatever secrets may lay with in I shall study, note and understand.” With a slight bow of his head, Skallagrim spun and marched along the resonating path that snaked towards the great gateways of slumber, every step echoed through the vast and silent halls.

Ahead the great horned guardian, ever watchful, opened the massive gates, as he did so the myriad of holons, the multitudes of existence streamed past, their future, past and present all as shimmering dream substances to be entered and explored. With a deft touch of the translucent amulet that hung around his neck, the Cughtagh summoned his destrier from the dream memories of the great Scathach. Slowly the clop of shod hooves upon flagstones carried from the deep gloom. Suddenly a flare of amethyst energies pierced the shadows, a great skeletal horse, the hooves shrouded in amethyst flames, the great eye sockets illuminating the area with the energies that flowed and coursed through its body.

Mounting the great beast, Skallagrimi nudged it into the swirling holons of existence, as he did so he reached out with the resonance of darshan and prana to locate the thrumming of the experience the great queen sought to understand. Feeling the echo of the holon where a new experience beckoned, slowly the Cughtagh began his journey.

As the flame shrouded hooves cleaved through the holons, passing through the dreaming state as a shadow, a nightmare, a disturbing presence to the holon, recorded in the memory as a flittering shade. Every holon, be it science or metaphysical, advanced or primitive, sacred or profane, all recorded the eternal watcher as he rode silently through. Only those who still believed, still remembered the legends of the hoary past of the Xindhi, would feel the passage as a subtle breeze along the strands of their holons memory.

As he approached the entrance of the disturbance, he eased up the long-legged gallop of the destrier, as the shimmer mirror of a dream flashed before him; Skallagrim the Cughtagh felt the thrum of resonance of this holon reverberate through him. In an instant the skeletal horse and rider were on a patch of incongruous land near the subject of curiosity. Sliding off the mount, Skallagrim tapped the amulet and the dream substance that comprised his horse swirled and drifted off as if a wind were carrying it away.

Before the Xindhi a blasted land, once fertile and abundant now rend and devoid of life. The pulse and cry of the Evercity emanated from ruins that may have once been a church to a long forgotten god. With a thrum of prana Skallagrim reached out, searching for the elusive energies that haunted the great dreamer.

"Come dreamer, come then to the Evercity…" cracked a voice as thunder around the skeletal being. With a start, Skallagrim drew his war sword, the wave of prana flowing in a ever widening pattern seeking the speaker. "You shall not find me dreamer, while you are old I am older. I merely come to you to urge you to enter the whorls of pattern, to find the Evercity. Even sights that you have sounded shall be put to shame by the Evercity."

"What know you of the eternal dreamers?"

"I know you Xindhi, I bid you enter and you shall experience even beyond your dreams."

A subtle wind blows dust and trash around the legs of the skeletal warrior, turning his attention once again toward the ruins, Skallagrim stepped lightly towards the resonating thrum that vibrated along the prana. Stopping before a wall, the Xindhi felt the draw of power, reaching out he touched the wall. His mailed hand passed through it, drawing back he marked this energy in the holon memory and stepped through.

The roar of the crowd echoed through the small underground chamber. The sound of chain link fence rattling as people pushed through the crowd to get a better view. Inside the fence were two combatants, fighting for their lives. Ambrose, who was the shorter of the two in the ring, side stepped a kick and brought his elbow right to the stomach of his opponent. The man stumbled back, gasping for air, Ambrose charged. Raising his fist he threw a punch right at the man’s ribcage. The man fell to the ground. The combatant coughed up some blood, and Ambrose smiled maniacally. Tapping into his power, the blood that was now rolling down his lip began to boil, scalding the skin it touched on his face. The man writhed in pain as he tried brushing off the blood only to spread the burning to his hands and arms.

The crowd had begun to cheer, and Ambrose kicked the man in the gut repeatedly. Then, there was silence. The man on the ground was dead, boiling blood all over his body. He turned around and raised his arms into the air, and another roar erupted from the crowd. Money was thrown in and he simply exited the arena and walked back to his quarters. It was a simple room. Red walls and ceiling with a green carpet. A single bed with a dresser at the end of it. Nothing really stood out about the room, other than there was nothing you could identify a person with. Ambrose tended to move around more so he never carried anything with him except his cloths. This room had been given to him by the owner of the arena, so he stayed for free as long as he fought.

As he was about to lay down in bed, he had this feeling. This urge to get up and leave his room. He didn’t know why he got up. He was tired after that fight and had gotten a good beating from that guy before he got the upper-hand. Still though, he walked out of his room and started walking through the rundown city he was in. He had grew up in this place, and he knew the way he was headed. He was on his way to the abandoned part of town. No one lived there but there were plenty of gangs. He was walking into a dangerous area, but he didn’t care for some reason. He felt like he almost had no control over what he was doing.

Turning down into an alley way, the world suddenly flashed by. People, places, events, they all seemed to fly before him. He knew about this somehow, but how could he? He had never done that before. It seemed to last forever, but suddenly, he was thrown out of it, his eyes wide with shock, noticing the building in front of him. “What the heck just happened?” he asked himself as he started to lean against the building, but he fell backwards through the wall, and disappeared from sight.

“Just give me another hit, come on baby, just give me o-one mo—re.” The young woman was singing softly, below her breath the words which she lived by. Another hit, another drag, push the needle in and let it feel so damned good, but she was just another druggie in the world, just another whore – just another STARBURST of color and light, god how she loved it. The woman jerked her head, quickly, trying to get the annoying loud shrill sound from inside of her head where it echoed and echoed and echoed, calling her. Willing her somewhere, but she wouldn't follow it till she had another hit, just one more. Come on, hurry up..

The woman's brown eyes where fixed and the blue flame that flickered on the stove, dancing and teasing her. The liquid atop it, floating with herbs and other such things didn't so much as bubble and the woman was growing more and more agitated not just from the lack of boiling drug, but from that shrill noise if only it would STOP! She shook her head, dull brown strands whipping at her cheeks as she bit at her lower lip, stripping more skin from the plump appendage thingy, and shuddered.

Fingers curled up into fists and she turned, to strike at the door frame, once and twice with the side of her balled up fists, to bring forth a surprisingly dull lurch of pain as the rotten wood broke and splintered into her hand. It was almost done, once it was done she could follow it, follow the stupid, shrill - “GAH!” she shrieked out, fingers traveling up to cradle her skull, fingertips pressing against the fragile skin, to bruise it, to hurt her, to make it stop in time for it to be don-


The soft sound of water, thrashing and turning in on it's self reached the woman's ears and she laughed, shuffling forward on sock covered feet to twist the dial off, to get out three vials and push them into the burning liquid, wincing as her fingers touched the burning, boiling thing. It hurt, god it hurt, but she knew that she'd have her hit..That sweet feeling -and all the while, that monotonous whistling continued within her ears, but she'd get that after the needle..The needle. Yes, the needle -it's sharp tip pressing through her skin, the stopper being pushed down and that sweet ambrosia being injected straight into her veins. It was so good..it was... She was in heaven.

A strange smile over came Echo's face, her lips stretched up to show white teeth as she shoved the other two vials into her pockets, hearing and feeling the reassuring clink of glass on glass as she started towards the sound, bumbling and falling along alley's till she got to -there- the source of that..That..Gah!

The woman flung open the door, the nondescript, peeling paint door that had found it's way in an alleyway and blinked, staring into the depths of..Well, what seemed to be a new world. A..It was..Well, it was obviously a drug induced hallucination, whatever it was.

“That was your warning…” He murmured in a deep monotone voice parrying the sword thrust that came at him with ease. The man that had sealed his life by attacking him was knock off guard and during that moment, the sound of a sword meeting flesh and blood splattering on the ground was heard. In that instant, he had finished off his foe by slashing at the chest with his Endless Chaos. The man has chosen his death and fell to his knee as he simply walked away.

Shinn swung his sword in front of him and swipe his hand over as a glow appear where his hand had gone over and the blood that had tainted his blade was gone. Shinn slowly sheathed the sword as he walked away from the man that had attack him, the man had it coming seeking glory and riches by attacking Shinn. Shinn was a wanted man, yet only the most foolish would try to kill him and even after the warning, the man stubbornly attacked and foolishly ended his life.

Shinn stumbled into a nearby restaurant ignoring all the look of fear he had gotten. He sat down and waited patiently for service knowing that it took time for people to muster enough courage to even speak to him. He had finally received service from a young woman, rather attractive as well and yet he did not even look up. “Anything will do…” He murmured as the woman nodded nervously and scurried away.

“Can you hear me Shinn…”

A loud voice boomed in his head that had a tone of vast wisdom and endless patience, the voice seem wise and elderly yet carry a hint of immaturity and youth. The voice belong to his God, Deidarra and he knew that whenever he was contacted, it require a mission that he usually refuses.

“…Skip the formalities today, just tell me what you want?” Shinn replied mentally as food arrived at his table.

“Still as impatience and straight as ever I see…”

“It is not that I am impatience, it is just that I know you require me to do something…” Shinn mumbled waiting for the explanation to this rather sudden invasion of his thoughts.

“I see, very well I will skip the formalities. It seems that the Evercity has decided to appear once more and more than likely someone will be calling you”'

“…And you want me to answer the call…” He figured eating his food delicately.

“Yes…It seems that you will be fighting against one of my most loath enemy and I want you to go in my name, this is one of your duties as my creation…”

Shinn thought long and hard, momentarily closing his eyes and escaping reality for a moment. He knew that if he refuses, Deidarra would pull out the “I am you creator, and I can take you away” card. He had no choice, but he decided to at least get something out of it. “Very well, but if I do so go you will relinquish me from your rules and I can do as I please…no matter what as long as I accomplish what you sent me to do.”

“…I knew you were going to ask that and I accept your terms no go, I have open a portal for you outside, use the power of Disruption to access it…”

Deidarra could have refuse, but he felt this way would be easier and he did not want to go through the whole argument with Shinn. He is after all, a laid back God who, unlike his other counterparts, did not want to watch over anything, but it was his duty and he had no say in the matter.

Shinn stood up calmly, hearing the signal that Deidarra has spoken about and put his payment on the table and began to walk out. He heard a scream behind him and he turn around to see that the girl that had served him earlier was being harass by three other men. He immediately walked over and saw a man who holding the girl’s arm and stared at him with an intense piercing stare, his serpent-like eyes sent fear across the man’s body.

“Release her…” he spoke softly, the man staring back at him with a confident grin as he spoke.

“You won’t kill me, rumor has it that you can’t kill unless provoke because of your oath to Deidarra” The man bellowed confidently laughing as he said it. Shinn grin slightly and in an instance, the man hand was cut off cleanly. Shinn stood their silently, both of his sword still seemingly sheath as he stared at the man again with the same intense stare. The man trembled in terror staring at his now lost arm and quickly ran away along with the other two yelling gibberish as they did so.

Shinn grabbed the arm and clutched it in his hand disintegrating it to dust as he turned around to leave. As he headed out the door he slightly turned his head and spoke quietly to the girl., “Don’t jump to conclusion, I did that not to protect you…you can rest assure I didn’t…” Those were his final word before he disappeared from his world and into Evercity. A powerful force pulling him in as the particle of Disruption brushed against his body. He felt a sudden push as the particle that covered him scattered and he was left standing in a hallway unknown to him.

Several months had passed since Kale sent out the first ‘calling’.

During his time alone in Evercity he had explored nearly every building except for the Temple, its doors being sealed from the inside. He could have broken through of course, but what he felt for the place bordered on sacred, so until such a time as they opened, he stayed away. After his exploration, he began readying several houses close to the city square for inhabitation, knowing that soon others would begin to arrive, those a part of FATE and those that would help rebuild this single-citied world.

Each day he would return to the obsidian building known as Caste, and once inside and sequestered within the Viewing room, he would watch for hours the lives of people he didn’t know, but soon would. The Dreamer, the Junky, the Mage, and others that flashed into and away from the screens.

They would come, as he had Called, just as his predecessor had called him. He knew now that he had taken the place of a being that for eons had fought against a power that permeated every inch of the known verses, and rather than give up, she had reached out to him. She knew that through Kale she would birth an army to rival the end that was coming, the one they were to await, and at all costs prevent.

Suddenly a light began to flare in the ceiling of the room, announcing the crossing of a Fate line, meaning that someone was about to find the way to Evercity.

Kale bounded from the chair he had been sitting in, at once speaking the word ‘Change’ into the air. Within the black building, everything began to change. Instead of finding the viewing room upon entering the square construction, a person would find themselves in a large room, ebony in color, with an antique oak desk along the farthest wall, and several dark red chairs scattered throughout. On the wall that will be closest to them will be a thick book with the word FATE engraved into the black cover. The pages are empty, for now.

He walked around the room, ensuring that everything was in order, even though there wasn’t much to set right that could be wrong. His steps took him to the center of the room, eyes closing and left hand raised. Into the air, he traced several sigils, symbols he had learned while within the City, perhaps something tapping into the baser well of his Mystic heritage. The area before fingers shimmered, a globe appearing with several red dots arranged along its surface and throughout its body, all slowly pulsing from light to dark red.

He pressed on one of the dots, then another, and then another. Each pulsing spot received a touch from the tip of his ring finger, and at once, each began to beat brighter and faster.


As each of the doors were opened, the persons responsible witnessed a glowing vortex of light, a snaking of color the vibrated with life and freedom. The light would reach out for them, knowing that by the opening of the gateway, they had accepted the Calling and were ready to take the first step. They were enveloped within the field of particles and swept away, down the corridor that Kale had traveled those months back, but instead of being dropped on the outside of the Caste, they were brought within its core.

The first three appeared, the trio looking slightly bewildered, and with good cause. Perhaps one of them began to question the man standing before the desk behind a large globe, but before they could venture to ask, he pressed a finger of his right hand to his lips.

“Not yet.”

As if on cue, two more entered the building, one falling against the floor, another simply stepping through the wall as if he had done the very thing before. He still held his finger to his lip, glancing at the two newest to appear, as the other picked himself from off the floor. His left hand pressed against a final glowing dot.

From the left side of the room the last one appeared, though to his knowledge he had just been within a strange hallway.

Kale took his finger from his lips and let the globe vanish. He glanced around, his violet colored eyes taking in each form. To them it must look strange, being greeted in a strange place, by a young man wearing black bondage pants, black biker boots, and a black t-shirt with the words ‘BLOW ME’ written across its chest in glaring white. He ran a hand through his hair, black spread about with white here and there, and leaned back against the desk.

“I’m sure you’re thinking, ‘what the fuck just happened?’, and wondering where you are,” he said, his gaze going from one to another, “so I will answer the most obvious first. You are within the Caste, in a city called Evercity, which just so happens to also be the world. This building is a place where realities intersect and the fabric of space is at its weakest. Now, the why.

“Each of you, in some way at some point in your life, have cheated the great lady, Fate. Through that act, you have gained a certain power, something that enables you to act with free will. I know many don’t believe in fate or destiny, bullshit. Everything happens for a reason. Even the fact that you disobeyed and disregarded your fate was in some way meant to be. The fact is this; the True End is coming. Not the beginning of a new cycle and the passing of an old, but an End. I am called to FATE for a sole purpose, the same as you: to Faithfully Await The End. Not the end that the Great Bitch has chosen and laid out, but an ending free of destiny and the order of a higher being. To that end we are called together, if you will stay, to become FATE. We are neither good nor evil, ordered or chaotic. We are choice and freedom, a balance if you will.”

He took a deep breath and shrugged.

“A few months ago I was beating the fuck out of a worthless drunk. Now I have the chance to change the very course of the Multiverse.”

His gaze looked around once more, landing upon each of the first to gather for a few seconds before moving away.

“What do you say? Will you become FATE?”

Her spine arced back, carrying her upper body with it just as the brute of a man’s fist sailed past her chin. Glass’s left hand wrapped firmly around that painfully extended are. Simultaneously Glass drove her right, metal plated elbow into the man’s side, pulling on that grappled arm in rapid succession of the strike and forcing the man to step forward and subsequently trip over Glass’s protruding leg. Glass wasted little time in sending the large man flying, twisting and yanking his arm in during the process of doing so.

Seamlessly Glass spun and ducked as another bar patron took a swing for her head. She carried this momentum into a snapping kick that easily took the legs out from beneath the drunken client. As the man toppled Glass caught a flickering glimpse of a graceful movement from across the room.

Standing Glass continued to fight, ducking and weaving while dishing out her own punishment. Eventually the mass of throbbing bodies thinned as those who didn’t want to take part in the fight fled for the street and those who wanted to fight fell victim to unconsciousness or crippling injuries.

Glass’s hand shot out gripping the man’s wrist his hand responding in kind. A moment later Glass rolled over the man’s back, legs snapping out in two rapid spinning kicks, catching two assailants in the chin. The process repeated, but this time the male, known as Kale, rolled across Glass’s back, delivering his own kind of punishment.

Soon enough it was only the two of them remaining, their backs inches apart from one another. A sigh of relief passed from Glass’s lips as she took the first step away from the pile of groaning and injured men and women.

“Wait,” his voice pierced the still throbbing music of the bar, causing Glass to hesitate momentarily.

She raised her right hand, fingers wiggling slightly as a soft laugh split the air.

“Not tonight pretty boy, I’ve a schedule to keep. Thanks for your help in the clean up,” her hand closed, lowering to her side before slowly opening again, a slip of paper falling from her palm to the floor.

Just as Kale registered the falling piece of square paper Glass was gone.

Moving over to retrieve that slip of parchment Kale’s eyes made short work of the light text printed across its surface.

Her name was Glass, and below that name was a series of ways to contact her.

<<>><<>>

“Are you sure about this?” Dax repeated for the fourth time that morning, his unease just as present in his face as it was his voice.

Glass’s shoulders rolled, blue eyes shifting over the table before her as her right index finger tucked a few renegade tresses of blond hair behind her ear. To be honest Glass wasn’t sure, for the first time in her entire life she wasn’t sure, and it was that in itself that drove her to go.

“Yes, I’m not planning on being long, I’m going to speak to him then contact you,” she insured again for the fourth time.

Dax sighed loudly, his hands gripping the steel bindings of his wheelchair. Glass glanced briefly over the strangely simplistic piece of metal, rubber and leather. Being who he was Glass was somewhat confused as to why Dax had never built himself a floating wheelchair, or artificial legs for that matter. She had made the mistake of asking him once why he didn’t, which had just upset him and left her more confused.

Finally Glass pulled the desired items of the table. Her gun, her knife and a set of four throwing knives.

A few moments later Glass was standing on the edge of a bluff overlooking a vast valley. With a deep breath she took the first step off the cliff.

Everything became still, the world around her falling away only to be replaced by the sound of rushing wind and distant waters. This in itself lasted all of a second before Glass found herself on solid ground again, just within the confines of her desired location.

Casually she turned over her palm, a disk of vaguely see through purple centering her palm. There was a steady pulse which emitted from the upper rim of the circular item. With a faint smile she moved forward and deeper into the place known as Evercity.

Glass had slipped in just moments after Kale’s speech, but his last words still reverberated through the air and tickled her ears. An amused grin split her lips apart slightly as her hands came together in a steady clapping motion.

“Well said, pretty boy,” She called above the gathered crowd, slipping forward, her various lines running the length of her glossy black body armor pulsing a light blue, her hands falling to her hips.

“Mind repeating that for those of us who just arrived?” Glass grinned, fixing the man she had seen almost five years ago now with a wiry grin.

An odd room, full of entities, life forms whose energy signatures were not normal to the holon and yet somehow they seemed perfectly attuned to it. Watching the speaker, Skallagrim allowed the prana to thrum and resonate the area, as the energy rushed back with it's precious information the man's words struck the Xindhi as amusing and yet very much true. Skallagrim focused his attention on the speaker, allowing the tendrils and wisps of amethyst energies to shrink, to coalesce into points of light receded in otherwise empty eye sockets.

Before he could speak, a brash woman already asked a question of repetition, turning slightly the Xindhi allowed the prana to cascade from him, slowly filling the room as it gathered more information for the dreamer to understand the situation he now found himself. Glancing at the others, the information that came back in successive waves told him much and little, each person from divergent background energies, from different worlds, times and places, yet a tendril of familiarity ran through them all, an energy signature that prevailed in this place, this Evercity.

Stepping closer to the man, the heavy cloak brushed the tarnished mail, the war sword deftly slid into the worn sheath, the pin points of energy erupted from the sockets flaring brilliantly, casting a pale purple glow everywhere Skallagrim gazed.

"We are intrigued by what you speak of, this fate you mention…" then it hit Skallagrim, his connection with the dreaming queen seemed slower, sluggish as if it were struggling to maintain conductivity between the two dreamers. For a moment, the Xindhi was at a loss as his mind raced to fathom the implications. Glancing at the man again, "This place is indeed strong, its power incalculable to affect the dreamers as it does. What is it we are to do? What is this balance we are to be?"

Ambrose had picked himself off the floor and brushed himself off. He found himself in a room with people of varying backgrounds, and a few people who seemed to be a bit… off for a lack of a better word. As he was about to ask what the heck happened, the man began to talk. His eye started to twitch as this punk talked, Ambrose folded his arms across his chest. He was more than a little annoyed that he had shown up in this place with a bunch of other people who didn’t know. Though he refrained from saying anything. He listened half-heartedly. He was rambling on about Fate or some other thing. It sounded like a load of crock to him, but. Something told him this was his chance to do something more than he was doing. His face was in a deep scowl as the man’s little speech came to an end. Ambrose had not noticed that his eye had stopped twitching. He uncrossed his arms and placed them inside of his pant's pockets. This was a odd event that had happened. Being thrown through whatever he was and then meeting up with all of these people.

Maybe fate did have something to do with them. Ambrose though was never one to believe in destinies or any other thing of the sort. He was the master of his own life. He was the one who controlled whether he lived or died. Then again, that was exactly why he was here wasn’t it? He was here because he could dodge Fate’s blows and keep on going. He had cheated death more than once in the arenas. A choice lay before him. To go back to his life as a fighter, or to go and join this FATE? This place certainly was a lot better than where he had been staying before. He also had nothing better to do. Sure, he would join. Ambrose took a small step forward and took his hand out of his pocket, covering his chin he spoke. “I got nothing better to do. Sure, I’ll join this little club.”

He had been in thought the entire time, and had not noticed the new comers or even the man who had just spoke to the head of this little part. He said this without thinking of what this would mean, or what he would be giving up. Typical of Ambrose, who always charged into things without knowing the danger that could be laying in wait for him.

"You and I are the same, fish." a chillingly melody filled voice said in a philosphical manner, as the large silvery fish swirled around gracefully with the others, its body filled with missing chunks and various other wounds, former scars from its past battling in the tiny koi pond.

Red petals fell upon its glass like surface as each ripple formed, moving with a almost mesmerizing grace. The tiny boats would drift there for a moment, before sinking into the near-endless water below, fading into the dark as if the passionate color never existed.

The only movement was the slow moving wind that graced the trees, and the only sound other than the voice was the whisper of the wind, telling of lands long gone. It ruffled through the blond frazzled locks of the tiger-like woman, messing them up even further.

She was huge and lumbering, and every breath, while quiet and peaceful, made her body ruffle with raw muscle. The fur along her features and brilliant pattern of orange and black, and slowly, her eyes opened, revealing two different pools, the cat-like gems of blue and green seemed infinite, the saphire as if looking through a mist, while the emerald shimmering like glass.

Huge armor coated her, as if a second skin, the midnight haze covering most of her features in its proud nature. The woman lifted her massive arm, seemingly to reach for the moon that was beyond her for a moment, the armored gauntlets freakishly heavy looking, though the womans movement seemed so natural that it clearly didn't bother her much.

She leaned forward, looking into the endless pool. The moon shimmered for a moment, revealing her face, the ruined mess of scars that greeted her. She could be considered pretty, and perhaps once was beautiful, if one could look past the scars.

She leaned closer, her face almost inside the waters, before a small item slipped from her hair, a bloodied ribbon of white and stained red, and the woman lunged forward to grab it, falling into the water in a violent splash.

How far she sank she didn't know.. time seemed to escape her and while it took several more moments than even the most fit of beings, she faded into blackness...

Her feet touched ground, and her eyes snapped open, the huge nodachi flying into her hands in a single elegant movement, its huge blade filled with hundreds of missing chunks and even some stained features, perhaps from past battles.

She could see a variety of people.. in strange clothing... where was she?

Shinn let out a scoff ignoring most of the young boy's speech; he was only here for one reason after all. He was only here because he felt that this would be a change in his life and it was a way to be rid of his petty oath that prevented him from doing as he please. He looked at this boy, wondering who he was for a quick moment and quickly tossed the thought aside.

"Sure..." Shinn murmured as he stood there with his arm cross, a hint of annoyance on his face. He had no intention of following this boy or anyone else order, but the concept of fighting Lady Fate intrigued him as well as having a feeling of obligation to Deidarra for agreeing to this task. Shinn scanned the area to notice the others and look to see a walking skeleton bursting with energy. Of course, he was not faze by it being a skeleton having to face many odd manifestation as the will of Deidarra, but this one was different.

He sensed the energy bursting around it and was quite intrigued with it energy level and had already felt the need to know this what sounded like a man, yet he waited patiently for this little event to end.

Fog rolled in over the coast line as tremendous, white-tipped waves crashed against the cliffs of Du'Mare. The thunderous sound of tons of water throwing itself against immovable, jagged stone drowned out all the various other sounds Sibanan could possibly hear. Even the tap-tapping of his dragon-headed cane, usually loud as a gunshot to his sensitive ears, was barely audible in comparison to the maelstrom of the wind driven sea. Careful as always to stay far from the cliff side, Sibanan wandered among the barren hills and moors that made up much of the Isle. He had been out walking for hours now, as he always did when troubled. It was a soothing balm to just wander and listen. He could let his thoughts flow, and all his problems would seem to unravel before his very eyes. And so he let this thoughts wander, like the water of a stream flowing over pebbles, being filtered away into cool, clear water, crisp and clean to taste.

The problem, Sibanan pondered, was that something was bothering him. There was a restlessness, an urge. For, or to do, what, was what he could not fathom. It was a itch in the back of his skull, a dull throbbing persistence. It ebbed and faded like the tide, receding for a time before swelling to an almost urgent shrill of need. Sighing, he felt the white noise of this persuasion gathering at the back of his mind, an crescendo building to a mind numbing roar. Grimacing, he shook his head, the dirty white, tattered blindfold rubbing irritatingly against his skin. Tall jackal-ears twitched in annoyance, responding to a sound only he could hear. It almost seemed to whisper to him, the noise. It felt like a tugging as it got worse, a compulsion to go in a certain direction. He stumbled a half step forward, before catching himself, ears laying back at the realization of such a powerful pull.

Pausing, his tail curled itself about his digitigrade legs, a sure sign of his nervousness and almost-fear. Whatever this urge was, it was not coming from within himself. He knew this now. It was a compulsion of some sort, implanted into his mind. How strange that he had not noticed it for what it was beforehand. Frowning, he decided to follow this call for now, if only to satisfy his curiosity. Mind set, he let the call take his feet where it would, confident that whatever was at the end of his path, he could deal with it. When he got there, of course. No need to rush into things just yet.

And so, Sibanan let the call pull him in, passing his fate over to its siren song. An irritating siren song, but a siren song none-the-less. He wandered for he knew not how long, following the invisible rope that tethered him to his unknown destination. He could have been traveling for hours, or even days, and he would not have been able to tell you just how long it had taken. Eventually, however; he came to that destination. The siren song bubbled over and calmed into more of a lullaby now that he had reached it. There was something before him, though he could not see it. He had the mental impression of a doorway of some sort, but being blind, he had no real image to put to the thought. If he could have seen what was before him, though, he would be in disbelief. Standing in the middle of the moor, surrounded by nothing, was a door. A bright, red door.

Reaching out tentatively, Sibanan felt wood beneath his clawed hands. Feeling around cautiously, he soon found the cool metal of a doorknob. Assuming this was the entrance to where he was supposed to be, he opened the door, cautiously entering through its threshold.

Zurimono limped away from his last kill, heaving his Zweihander back over his shoulder after returning his shield to his back and his claws to their sheath. The light blue mist that had normally circled the bluely lit blades on his claws faded slowly as they were returned to their resting place at his side. He was exhausted, panting heavily, he wondered how he ever survived a fight against something like that. His bones were strained, cracks along several parts that his regeneration desperately struggled to vanquish. Behind him the black wolf lay panting on the ground, it was still alive. Already its heavy wounds were healing fast, how could such a creature be born into this world. Its axe lay only several feet from where he had felled it, starting to rise again. He had to admit, it was incredibly stubborn, but he could survive it now even without the moonlight to aid him, he had gained so much strength in the passing years it was unimaginable.

As the massive wolf rose to its feet in front of him once again, its deep, almost horrific eyes glaring down at him, looking for a weakness. The beast still hadn't regained its balance however, and its arms hung uselessly at its sides. He would fight honourably, even though his opponent didn't, but he knew he would die if he did so. He would simply return the favour the beast had given him oh so long ago, a remorseless death, with none at his side to witness it. And with that resolve, he gathered his remaining strength to do a simple attack, though it was all he could muster until he had several minutes for his regeneration to bring some more of it back. He took a step towards his enemy, both hands on the hilt of his blade, held at the right side of his body, then thrust forward, upwards, towards his rivals through, the wide blade of the Zweihander ripping through its flesh as though it were air, a well forged blade indeed, though not nearly as powerful as his other two weapons, he liked the reach on it. He twisted the blade in his opponents neck before dragging it back out, a spurt of blood sent from the from and back of the wound in his opponent, Zurimono simply returning the blade to rest on his shoulder as he turned away, walking from it as its now feeble, useless body fell to the ground, a satisfying thud proving to him that he had returned the favour, and that favour that had taken oh so many years to fulfill.

Each step sent a shock of pain through his very bones, that fight had taken every ounce of energy from him, and little did he know that monster was far from dead. It was his opposite, as the villain is to the hero, that is the place the black wolf held to Zurimono. And in his false sense of victory, the white wolf left him to his misery, his battered and broken body carrying him further then any should, it was as though he was moving forward to destiny, he had to do this. And eventually, there came a treeline to a great forest he had once known, he chuckled as he remembered the name, Guilin, and an old farmhouse rested on this treeline. Regardless of what the people inside would think, he dreaded staying outside in this condition more then a farmer with a short sword or good pitchfork. So he walked towards the old wooden door, a slight crack where it met the ground, a pile of hay just off to the left of it, he would survive.

The farmer had seen the blazing white wolf slowly nearing his farmstead, and so he had readied himself with his pitchfork on the other side of the door, waiting in fear of when the beast would enter his housing, but, that would not be the case. As the wolf slowly pushed the knob-less door open, instead of feeling the resistance of a triple bolt lock, the door simply pushed open and it led to elegant ebony room. As quickly as the last inch of his shield on his back left the frame of the door it vanished, leaving him to fend for himself against these new beings. He quickly positioned the Zweihander infront of him, ready for an attack and then, he fell to one knee, groaning lightly. He was injured far too much to fight, especially this number of opponents, he would have to wait the day or two his regeneration would take to repair these wounds. The bones were cracked, not broken, and he was ever so thankful for this, his body would soon enough completely stop taking injury from this. Regardless, for now he had these beings to deal with, and he looked up towards them, examining them with his ever so untrusting eyes, almost even a deadly distrust.

Marxan was surprised as colors from every edge of the spectrum overwhelmed him. They swirled around his body and threatened to pierce his vary soul with their brilliance. They then began to twirl around him, preparing to transport him somewhere although to where he had absolutely no idea. During this period he tried to contact the worms several times but felt only complete and utter ecstasy from them. It was as if someone had injected them with some kind of euphoric drug that made them feel complete bliss. He did not bother to disturb them. He was then hit with a blinding whee light and was dumped into a room with a bunch of other individuals and new ones like him that were constantly coming in. He saw no apparent harm from the other beings and so the metal covering him receded and the worm came out of their hiding place. They twirled around his arms until they got to his shoulders and they stared straight at the boy with the odd clothing. The boy then began to speak.

“I’m sure you’re thinking, ‘what the fuck just happened?’, and wondering where you are,” he said, his gaze going from one to another, “so I will answer the most obvious first. You are within the Caste, in a city called Evercity, which just so happens to also be the world. This building is a place where realities intersect and the fabric of space is at its weakest. Now, the why.

“Each of you, in some way at some point in your life, have cheated the great lady, Fate. Through that act, you have gained a certain power, something that enables you to act with free will. I know many don’t believe in fate or destiny, bullshit. Everything happens for a reason. Even the fact that you disobeyed and disregarded your fate was in some way meant to be. The fact is this; the True End is coming. Not the beginning of a new cycle and the passing of an old, but an End. I am called to FATE for a sole purpose, the same as you: to Faithfully Await The End. Not the end that the Great Bitch has chosen and laid out, but an ending free of destiny and the order of a higher being. To that end we are called together, if you will stay, to become FATE. We are neither good nor evil, ordered or chaotic. We are choice and freedom, a balance if you will.”

The boy's gaze then darted to him for a few moments before asking him if he was ready to join FATE. This was a tough decision to make so he conversed telepathically with the worms to help decide.

So what do you two think? Personally I believe this could be a good opportunity. I also realize that what he says is most likely true as we have escaped death's touch more than once on our travels. Just now when we traveled to the forest floor of that planet we were faced with wave after wave of hideous monsters but somehow we managed to survive and save the people's chieftain from being eaten as well.

Yes I believe that to be true as well. Though we must be cautious. If this Fate that he mentions is truly so powerful theme must be on constant guard. She could decide to try and wipe us of the map at any moment. Although if what he says is true, then we are outside her grasp. My brother also shares my opinion.

Marxan then turned as new arrivals appeared. To get things going, one of the worms communicated telepathically with the newcomers. The worms themselves were telepathic but the most they could do was communicate with other beings to inform them of recent developments. After speaking to the newcomers the worms continued to stare at the odd boy and so did Marxan. Marxan then spoke up.

"I am in this as well. Though what exactly will we be doing here? Will we be going out on missions or are we to just wait here till the end times?"

“Well said, pretty boy.”

The woman that spoke the words sparked a memory in Kale, one that had been niggling at the back of his memories since he had first glimpsed her in the viewings, and now he knew. He remembered the bar fight, and the woman he wanted to fight after the place was cleared. His words were pushing towards the back of his throat when one of the original group stepped forward.


Kale swept his gaze up and down the being that had just approached him, though by now he was used to the overall presence of the one named Skallagrim, having seen him moving about in the viewing room for months now.

“First off, we need to feed you, get some meat on those bones,” he said as he leaned back against the desk, arms folding across his chest, just under the words ‘BLOW ME’. A smile flashed across his face, reaching his eyes and eluding to his nature, but in that next instant it was gone, replaced by something serious, and ancient. Before he could answer, another spoke up, and then another. He was about to address those words, when a light in the ceiling began to blink.

Kale closed his eyes, this time mumbling a few words rather than needing to create the Globe, as the ones now coming along the paths of light had already been drawn in far enough to only need a soft guiding touch in order to find the room. He thought it should not be known that without those few words, any seeking the Caste on their own would have spent an eternity wandering the cosmos, forever searching without knowing. His eyes snapped open, the violet orbs burning brightly for a split second before settling back to their normal, duller hue.


Several more appeared, each coming from various walks of life, and each equally confused no doubt. When the injured werewolf appeared, some made as if to approach it, but Kale raised a hand.

“I wouldn’t go near him just yet. No doubt he isn’t much threat in his present state, but you know what someone is capable of when backed into the corner,” he grinned slightly, “Oh yes, I’m sure all of you know about that, one way or another.”

He knew that Zuri would settle down in a few moments and perhaps let someone help him, but until then all Kale could do was put his mind at ease, that he was in fact not amongst enemies, but among allies. For the sake of all those that had just found them, he repeated what he said before, word for word, since he had been practicing those words for months now. In the end, he addressed Skallagrim’s questions.

“Balance. As you all know there is both good and evil in the Multiverse. I personally believe in neither. Though I have never done an act I would consider evil, perhaps seeking fights in bars is evil to another person. The balance we will seek to bring about is a balance of energies. We will do what must be done, when it must be done. This could mean saving a life, or taking many. This could involve liberating a world from a dictator, or conquering one ourselves and appointed one person to rule it. We must be the ones to make such choices, though in the end it will all race to one purpose; the preservation of something.”

He looked to the mage as she spoke, the smiled slightly.

“Everything that has ever been born or birthed has an ending, is in fact running towards that end with its first breath. We are falling toward one of those ends, but there are powers awakening that would like this to be an end to everything. Perhaps fate is tired of doing her job, for what I have come to know is that she has given over creation to this goal of total obliteration. It is not so much that we are seeking to free men from her grasp, as we have been freed, but more that we are trying to rip her hand away from the cusp of the Multiverse and chop it off. Here, yes, we are free from her influences, in Evercity, and the Island-Worlds that lie apart from the reality of her existence. Once we step outside of these places though, rest assured that the ripples we create in her patterns will be felt, and acted upon. What you do is far from safe, and by joining you risk not only your life, but your eternity.”

He opened his right hand, and within it appeared one of the books, which sat on a table near the back wall.

“This is the Book of Fate. When an event is about to occur that will shape this future we are heading forward, it will appear here for those chosen to stop it to read. Once it is written, the only ones capable of changing the outcome are us, but it has to be our choice.”

He flipped to the first page, one that had been blank an hour before. Now a single letter glistened there in stark black ink, the beginning of a word.

“Each of you will receive one of these, if you chose to stay. If you chose to leave, I cannot and will not blame you, and will safely release you to where you came from, and bid you go with my blessing.”

He looked at each one again, as much as possible.

“If you choose to stay though, know this: you fight a war. In war there is death, there are casualties. In war, there is a commander, a leader. I know that many of you have looked at me and thought you saw nothing more than a boy, a child, and by right you should. I was not even a thought when some of you had been a live for a long, long time. However, if you chose to follow this path, you chose to follow me. Anyone that will have a problem with that must speak it now, for I will not have people die for words not spoken and concerns not raised.”

His violet gaze came to rest once more upon Skallagrim, the look in his gaze both old and startling new.

An eerie, laughter erupted from the Xindhi, a laugh that carried across the millennia of Skallagrim's life. "Indeed youngling, your existence is but a moment compared to mine, however I have been bid by the eternal dreamer to come here, to experience this place. That I shall do, I shall follow you and see where it leads." Again, the resonance thrummed from his body relying and feeding information to him about Evercity and those in it, "You have my sword child of destiny and my strength."

Turning towards the others, the Xindhi bowed slightly, the dazzling amethyst energy flared and cascaded from the eye sockets bathing the area before him in a soft purple hue, "I am Skallagrim the Cughtagh, Champion of the Eternal Dreamer. I am now companion and fellow of those who choose to follow this…road, this fate."

Stepping back so that he stood next to Kale, the energies dimmed and faded until a soft flicker of purple flashed intermittently in the eye sockets, the grin disconcerting as the flash backlit the teeth causing a halo of light to escape from the joint in the jaw. Framing the skull in what could best be described as St. Elmo's fire as the ionized air hummed slightly around the skull. Those able to detect such things would realize that nearly 1500 kilo-volts of energy swum around the skeletal beings head.

Drawing upon the darshan and prana to continue recording the events in the holon of experience Skallagrim forced his energies to ensure that they were recorded. Tapping the connection to the dreamer, he grimly accepted that while sluggish it is still present as the energy fields warped and carried along the magnetic fluxes, touching holons that connected to the Evercity, allowing a very slow transfer of memories to the sleeping queen.