There was an awful lot that could be said for the march of progress. It was something that many of the esoteric researchers were only too quick to point out when people began to get sentimental.

Since the reign of the empress had begun, the blanket of fear and superstition that had once covered Valon had been gradually lifted away, into a new and enlightened age of understanding.

They could understand how magic worked. They could enhance and control it, focus it and use it as power. The force that had once seen the species of Valon cowed and terrified had become a means for them to better their lives.

Through one of the high, vaulted glass windows it was possible to see out into the blue evening, where the eerie glimmer of the magelights that lined the streets of the capital swayed in the wind. Winter was beginning to draw in, though to the inhabitants of the city, such a thing held little fear. The enchanted gardens allowed food to be grown all year round.

A few inhabitants heading home from work, or out to search for a meal or amusement, trod along the cobbles, attempting to keep out of the path of the golems. The hulking, metallic figures in question plodded through the streets with brooms and cleaning cloths, the magelights glinting off their bronze shells and immobile masks. Children often shied away from the constructs, though few of the adult inhabitants of Valon batted an eyelid any longer to their presence. They had become a fixture, yet another great gift provided by the new governance.

It couldn't be blamed on them, it was natural enough to wish for comfort over hardship, and under the influence of those who dwelled up in the palace, the people never seemed to face any sort of difficulty....to the point that they neglected to ask very important questions.

The insides of the palace were probably not what most would imagine...well..below the ground floor at any rate. A great deal of effort had been taken into preserving the old features above, though the installation of esoteric power had proved a challenge, and meant that the old dungeons and storage rooms had had to be drastically remodelled.

The chamber could not have been more than one floor below the ground, if the small windows were anything to go by. It had been built to minimize sound, though it appeared they did not feel that they had much to hide regarding the power source...even if it were somewhat...distasteful to individuals.

A few magelights burned overhead in the large domed room, the copper-plated door left somewhat ajar.

At the front, a haphazardly dressed figure paced back and forth, wringing their hands.

The individual appeared to be a woman in her late twenties, rather unimpressive in stature, bearing the look of someone who had far too much on their mind. Her dark blonde hair was tied back rather messily, and seemed somewhere in need of a wash, reflecting the lights in a rather unappealing manner. She looked a little on the pale side, eyes deep-set and cheek bones rather high. It was possible there was some elf in the family, but it was clearly quite a way back.

She was dressed in a collection of ill-matching, and admittedly rather cheap clothes, her outfit seeming to have been assembled by committee, and more than enough to demonstrate that she couldn't have been there as a guest of the empress or any of the council members that dwelt within the building.

No, Maeve was there as a matter of...what was it...obligation? Guilt? Some manner of foolish optimism that her presence might be of help? No...it wasn't exactly any of them...it was more that it was the only thing she could do. The order was gone. The schools of magic were scattered, and the mythical creatures were and hidden in fear of falling prey to the Esoterics. She was pretty certain there was not likely to be some great uprising. So this was, in some way, Maeve's only way of showing the people what she was, or what she had once been at any rate...regardless of how painful it was.

The sharp-featured woman turned and walked toward the centre, feeling her stomach twisting into knots at the sight of the shape, forlornly suspended from the centre of the dome by several cables and ropes. It was an enormous shape, four legs and a pair of once imposing wings that lay in tatters, hanging limply at its
sides. The beast's head rested on the tiled floor, criss-crossed with cuts and with the jaw locked shut. There appeared to had once been horns, but they had been roughly sawn off.

Set around the creature's ribs a metallic claw issued upwards, gripping its chest, some sort of red, vicious glow leaking through the gaps as it seemed to be...taking something.

This, this...travesty was the fate of the dragon Rah'von. His life force had powered the lights of the palace for approaching three years, and Maeve, once a rider of considerable renown, found herself nothing but an inconsequential figure in it all.

Where were the others? Other dragon riders? She didn't know. Maybe they'd suffered the same fate. The bond had weakened over the years, but it still didn't allow her much further than the city gates. They could all be gone for what she knew, or the news of the terrible fate that might await those of great magical power might have scared them away.

The woman dropped to her knees beside the head of the once great creature and ran a hand over the dull scales. There was no reverence for them anymore.

Hesitantly, the woman made her way over to the large, arching doors that marked the entrance to the chamber, opening them somewhat and looking out into the corridor. She was loathe to walk too far away from the chamber, even though her bond no longer held her there, but she resented that she was trapped out of sight, and for the most part out of mind. While the Esos liked to state that they had nothing to hide, they had for from placed them in pride of place. It was on one of the lower floors. The presence of others was by no means forbidden, but the majority of visitors and staff simply saw little reason to pay it a visit.

What she wanted to do was tell people about this, about what had happened, assuming people wished to listen. She had always been very good a getting people to listen but that...that had been before...something that felt almost like a previous life.

Inside the local was warm,unlike the cold night outside.
The place was lightened by lanterns of small sizes,sticked on the wooden walls.Thinking that few years ago the place's brightness was hold by candles.No,now there was something "new" in the air...instead the lanterns's light was kept living thanks to the miraculous newly found energy.

There were many voices,happy voices,too loud to understand what they were announcing.Laughs,smiles that would exterminate the sadness from the Tavern.
Finally in Peace! The Long awaited peace! Thanks to the Empress,the energy runs through all Valos in a blink of an eye,and keeps living all the Happiness!

In a corner there was a round table with around four persons dressed in common ways,talking with a low voice,compared to the stereophonic effect of the Local.
It was sure that they weren't here to pass good time like all used to at night time: else they'd be laughing and probably not in a desolated table in a corner.They were here for something,unknown.
From the already loud atmosphere few notes could be heard near the lonely table.
A man then stood up,irritated by the presence of the artists,followed by the other three.They moved to another table.

Meanwhile,on the opposite side,a man was wasting his free time in...an exceeding comfort.
He was alone in a table with the feet on it and drinking a not small glass of beer.
He was near the happy mass,sometimes commenting to the nearest person.
He wasn't speaking that much afterall.
Then someone near him started to talk about the Energy: Magefire.
Hearing that word,the man sitting in an inappropriate way,felt somewhat a tick: nearly he fell down the chair,if he wouldn't stand up.
Unfortunately,the chair fell and attracted the attention of everyone.
"Well...what are you watchin'!? A chair fell!" The man said,rising his arms.After the mass started to speak to eachother again,the guy talking about Magefire aswell.
This time,the man stood up and strained his ear to better hear the conversation.
"So,darling isn't this magnificent? Everything running like it never did?" The man said,to a woman.

She answered:"Sincerely it is fantastic: the introduction of...this...Magefire is great,like the steel men that patrols the town! But now a day I'm starting to wonder where it comes from!"

The name,whose name is Edmund could not accept that thing: Ah,if the world would open the eyes,if many things would come on light...
Edmund took again his seat and continued to drink from the jug,deciding to enjoy the night.

The four men,since the chair fell started to look at Edmund.Noticing that he didn't noticed them the tallest,probably the leader,whispered something and they left.


Few minutes later,Edmund was somewhere in the local.This time he wasn't alone: he was with four bags of gold on the center of the table,a card of deck near it and four daring gamblers like him.
They were in the middle and,so far,Edmund lost somewhat half of his pocket...not that he carries a gold mine behind.
Plus in confront of someone,Edmund had few chances.And why not in this quick game?
The Happy air was still young,and it would continue till the morning,probably.
For their luck and Edmund's misfortune,the challengers had to leave,called back by the wives.
Edmund returned in the solitude with his new gained purses.
He hoped for events,straordinary events that would lead to adventure.
Danger,fun,runs and friends! When was the last time he ran for his life? Few years ago,time for another.
And friendship,something he was lacking....
He was thinking about these events.Now he was thinking where to find them

Logen shivered, his thin cloak doing nothing to fight off the increasingly colder nights. His head ached, nothing new there. This was one of his good days, nothing a couple of beers couldn't fix. He entered the Tavern, the chorus of semi-drunken rambunctiousness a familiar replacement to the dull throbbing of his head.

A nod to the waitress, who probably knew his usual by heart, and Logen was off to dimmest lit corner, where the phantom hum of Magefire wouldn't bore its way into his skull. He had drained the lantern that was responsible for lighting that section a few weeks earlier; thankfully nobody ever complained about the lack of light in a tavern.

He smiled and winked at the waitress as she brought him his glass. She always afforded him a free drink. Brothers-in-arms and all that. "Any plans for tonight?" She asked, seemingly innocent, but Logen knew the intent behind it. But it was a good question. Could he go for a raid? He looked around the tavern, taking in the pleasant atmosphere, along with a great chug from his beer. He shook his head. "None at the moment, hotstuff. I'll let you know." Again, casual flirtation on the surface, but the women got the message. She gave a quick nod, laughed, "I'll bring you another glass than. Perhaps a bigger one?" and took her leave.

Logen shook his head, trying to shake the last fragments of pain away. The alcohol had already dulled his nerves down quite a bit. Sweet, sweet alcohol. He was going to make one hell of an alcoholic one day.

Logen caught the glint of gold. Now Logen wasn't exactly money-hungry, but he did have a fascination with shiny things (he liked to think it was the Fae in him, but truth was he was probably just simple-minded). And gold was certainly shiny.

He walked over to the table, eying the deck of cards and the man behind them. "Is this seat taken?"

Edmund rised his head,seeing a man,not that tall...around his height.

"Is this seat taken?"He asked,peeking at the deck of cards on the table.

Edmund looked around and took the last drink from the mug and posed the glass on another table.
"Here to test luck aswell,might? Well,first steps,the guys playin' here just left..." Edmund said leaning on the chair.
He took the deck of cards and shuffled them with expert hands.After that,he put it on the table.

When a waitress came,he ordered two beers,and to fill a steel canteen.

"So,what's your name" Edmund asked drawing cards from the deck.Then he took a bag and put it on a table.
"I'm Edmund...Edmund Rosemary at your services" Edmund said,lowering his hat.
When the two beers arrived,he took his mug and posed it where his glass used to be.Then he gave the other glass to the man.

"Logen Dannan," he said, taking one of the vacant seats. "Look, we're already best of friends." He graciously accepted the drink. He took a sip, manners restraining him from chugging.

"So what's your game?" Logen asked, gesturing towards the cards. This was nice. He took more comfort from this tavern than he care to admit. This one specifically, as it hadn't taken full advantage of everything Magefire had to offer. He could tell that only a few traditional amenities had been replaced by Esoteric conveniences. Speaking of which;

A dull, increasing louder clanking could be heard from outside. Golem. Just patrolling. Logen hissed, barely audible. Why must the blasted things be so loud? They we're already glaring obvious, even without his abilities he'd be able to track one a mile away. The golem passed, its stoic face peering into the tavern window as it went. Logen took a long sip of beer, cold eyes staring back at metal ones.

((Ack! Sorry my computer spazzed.))

"The classic money-stealing...Poker" Edmund said,looking at the drawn card and taking a relatively little sip from the mug.
"Good that we made friendship" He rose his mug."To Friendship and Fortune?" He said,noticing that his companion was looking out of the window.

Effectively,he heard something perhaps,metal beating against something.No,not inside the tavern,outside.
He moved to the left to better see the scene.
A golem - the newest "breed" of filth - was moving around the place...too near.
"Flatfoot...Hmpf....better leave before they'll get me" Instinctively,Edmund stood up from the chair after the brief and simple thought.
"Ahm...Logen? Right? I...noticed that I'm having a deal with someone....nearby" Edmund said,improvising.Afterall,he couldn't stand up and leave...it was...suspicious.

"If you usually come here,then we might meet again...Logen" Edmund said,walking further from the table.
He waved his hand and exited from the Tavern.
Near Logen,Edmund felt something like a continuing tickle.
A strange tickle,that Edmund wished to scratch off.Anyway he was on the run.
Something stopped him from running further,however...the expression of Logen...he turned to look at the Golem in a way that would call attention.
Edmund decided to climb a low roof and wait there.

It has been a while that he wasn't chased by someone...and probably the time-record was going to be break by VEGA once more.
The main problem for the VEGA was that Edmund was a too...precious subject to loose.
Plus,he knew things that could compromise VEGA's incredible reputation.
The classic four elegant-dressed men appeared again,from a dark district below Edmund.
They didn't noticed anything,since they left the place talking to eachother.

In the cellar of the inn was heard a scream. Inside the inn, it just sounded like a whisper, but in the cellar it was terrible to hear.
The person that was screaming was a guard. He had just recieved message that his leg would be amputated in order to save him from gangrene.
The doctor, a rather tall man with red hair was standing silently.
"Son..." he said while preparing a syringe. "This might sting a bit." Then he smacked the syringe into the mans leg and short after there were silence.
"Now... It seems I can get to work." Then the man took a bonesaw and started the operation.

((Damn stupid pc makin' double posts

It felt rather strange to be outside in the evening air again. It was a little cold. Winter had to be drawing in. Maeve guessed she was rather losing touch with the time of year. As she rarely ever stepped outside, it was not unsurprising. A wool cloak wrapped around her shoulders, the hood pulled up, she slipped through the crowds of shoppers and revellers, hiding her distaste. She knew that this situation was not the fault of the people of the capital...but it was undeniably galling, seeing these individuals enjoying themselves when she knew where the Magefire that allowed them to do so came from. It was the electricity of dire suffering.

It was no trouble leaving the palace. The staff in general treated her as if she were little more than a nuisance, and it extended to the guard. They left her be for the most part. Few thought that the rider posed anything of a threat. Without her dragon she was all but powerless, and they guessed she would not attempt any rebellion whilst her companion was held. For many years, that had most certainly been true. Things were changing however. She needed to get the news out there, though she struggled to think how she would without sounding like one of the mad doomsday preachers that stood on crates in the temple district.

Clunk. Maeve's progress was drawn to a sudden halt as the metal expanse of a golem drew into her path. It was taller than the woman, and considerably wider, covered in an armoured carapace of some sort of coppery metal...though the rider fancied that if anyone were to attack it they would discover it far less pliable than copper. It moved into her path, the immobile mask that stood for a face tilting slightly downwards to regard her. It had an unnerving quality, something like a carnival mask, but plain, the mouth drawn into an expression of blank neutrality, the eyes empty.

It drew a large hand up to signal for her to move to one side. On reflection Maeve was not certain why she was still standing there. Possibly it was because she seldom had such close contact with the things and she was intimidated, or possibly it was the most pathetic act of rebellion she'd ever attempted, she was not certain.

"Ah,I have enough of this!" Edmund said,jumping off the roof and slowly walking back to the inn.
All the idea was...stupid: in the inn he could use the numerous customers as shield and gain time to run from the Flatfoot...or metalfoot,by now.
He returned to the inn,with the same sensations: Warm,well lighted place.But with an invisible sense of fault,dwelling in the air.
Or was it an Edmund's impression?
He walked in the wooden hall and blinked at Logen,before noticing a door.
"Later....later" Edmund was thinking,while looking if anyone was observing him.
After noticing that nobody was,he opened the door and quickly slipped inside.It was a dark room,with few torches lighting the place.
He decided to enter in the room,for curiosity and discover any path that would lead to safety.
He walked down the stairs,careful to don't miss or trip off.
Then he heard a sudden shriek,a sound that surpasses any human's standard.
Because of the Surprise,Edmund lost balance and nearly fell off the few steps from the ground.
The place was cold and full of barrels...there were few torches that breached the dark of the cellar.
Edmund decided to investigate: he checked for something to use as a weapon....he had one.
Then he heard other buzzy sounds,coming from the North of the Cellar.He slowly walked ahead,careful and looking around every corner.He hates cellars: too many barrels and covers.
Then he looked ahead,to see few shades,generated by the light.
He moved to a barrel and prepared to alert the strangers.
"Alright,Who's there?" Edmund said,holding the handle of his beloved sword.

"Alright, Who's there?" a voice cried out just as Nicolai had placed the sawn-off leg on the table next to him.
He then picked up a oil lamp.
"Just a doctor taking care of a patient that's all." He answered the voice.
At the same time he started walking towards the voice.
"And what about you ? Another so called ferocious warrior fighting for 'the greater good.' Or are you just a curious fellow walking around in the cellars ?"
He took his mask on.
"Whatever the reason it seems I have to change medication area now." he said with a deeper voice thanks to the mask.

"Perhaps we will." Logen said, bidding Edmund farewell.

Logen finished off his ale, gave a quick look around, and decided that he was up for some late night fun. He looked around for the waitress, but saw her no where in sight. Oh well. More action for me. He was surprisingly energized for the lateness of night and the number of beers he had consumed. He pulled his cloak closer to him, bracing for the cold.

Head tilted, listening for the distinctive footfalls of his first victim. He followed the golem from a few yards, waiting for it to enter a less-lit area. Logen kept his head down, trying not to draw suspicion, trying not to look like a hound chasing a fox. Guards might be around, human guards. Wouldn't take much deductive reasoning to figure out why he was trailing a golem.

The clunks of the golem stopped abruptly. Logen ducked into an alleyway, observing. A women blocked the automaton's path. He stretched his neck, releasing some tension that his skulking had built. A small blue butterfly appeared on his chest, slightly glowing. He eyed the nearby lanterns. They dimmed significantly as their power source drained, darkening the shadows around the golem and the woman. The butterfly fluttered happily on his skin, moving to his back.

Maeve found herself trying to work out, for a start, what she was doing, and secondly, what she intended to do next...when something bizarre began to happen. The Magelight Lanterns around the area seemed to fade, something that seemed rather out of the ordinary. Such things tended to be very reliable. The lamps were not as flame lanterns, their light tended not to waver or diminish over time so long as they received power, so this itself was....strange.

The rider looked around suspiciously, clutching the cloak around her shoulders, feeling rather uneasy. It felt demeaning to be in such a position of vulnerability considering her status, but as it stood there was little she could do about it.

Attempting to clear any sign of a shake or a stammer in her voice, she spoke up.
"...who's there?" she called, peering into the gloom created by the sudden dimming of the lamps.

Logen ignored the timid call of the woman, focusing on the golem. Perhaps he had jumped the gun a bit, the machine was on full alert now. Oops. He hadn't planned on a direct confrontation, but discreetly draining the golem was out of the question. The thick armor made draining at a distance impossible. And Logen doubted that it would appreciate a tap on the shoulder at the moment.

He stepped out of the alleyway rather nonchalantly, but was mentally cursing his need for dramatic lighting. The golem's head swiveled, and focused on him. The flatfoot took a clumsy step forward. Logen could feel, could hear, could practically taste the Magic in the machine. It called to him. He knew it was bad, that it wrecked havoc on his system. But it was...Logen shivered. Tantalizing.

The butterfly marking returned, shooting quickly down his right arm, leaving thorny vines in its wake. A faint crackle could be heard. Shockingly blue spark flew from his hand. Flames roared behind his eyes, ice ran down his veins. He needed this. A release. To hell with staying low-key. To hell with VEGA watchdogs. He was growing tired of it all. But he wasn't tired now.

Logen smiled in the dark, waiting for someone to make the next move.

"True men fights for no reason,Doc." Edmund said,initially walking away from the lantern."Plus,name your so-called 'greater good',and I'll see if it is really 'great' or 'good'" Edmund said,taking from his belt the metal flask and took a drank.
"But tell me,shouldn't medics work in frontiers or in Hospital" Edmund said,while moving toward the light of the oil lamp,his right hand on the sword's handle.
He walked in a natural way,probably too natural.
"I'm...off to explore,doc.,in a world changing at unnerving speed,we have to move as fast huh?" Edmund said,continuing his task to find any special galleries that would lead to safe zones,since few years ago,buildings could be victim to shakes by creatures and such.Nothing.
"Well,if you don't insist,I'm leaving you with your patient Doc." Edmund said,drinking from his flask."Cheers!" Edmund whispered ironically walking back to the stairs.