Ransu Svar's Story

Ransu Svar was hanging upside down. His feet were bound and attached to a rope suspended from the ceiling. He slowly rocked back and forth with his hands crossed. His expression displayed boredom; he had been in this position for two days.

He looked around observing the nearly pitch black room. The walls were dusty and old and the door made from a rusty iron. This room was meant to hold an ordinary human, yet Ransu was confident he could escape at any time. Suddenly foot steps were audible. He listened to determine the amount of people. Just one. he thought.

The door slammed open illuminating the entire room. To Ransu it felt as if his eyes were on fire, he squinted and looked at the shadow spread across the floor pointing in his direction.

"Angie!" He exclaimed with joy.

"I told you not to call me that anymore." A cold tired voice replied.

"Don't be like that, we used to get along so well together. We even share the same birthday." He said uncrossing his arms and forming a smile.

"That was decades ago, Svar. Back when you were still alive." The voice replied.

Ransu appeared as if he was in his early twenties, though one stops aging when he's brought back to life as a deadman.

Ransu brought his chin closer to his body and stared at the upside-down silhouette. Though the light behind her nearly blinded him, Ransu could make out that the woman in front of him was wrinkled and graying.

"We're about how old the professor was back then." Ransu said after the brief pause.

"No, we--I'm older." Angela corrected herself. She raised her index finger and a small green flame shot out igniting the rope attaching Ransu to the ceiling. "You're already dead."

SNAP

Ransu fell straight down onto his head.

"Get up, and follow me. There are a few people here to question you about that dead enforcer." She said with a sigh.

Ransu was yet again tied up, this time to a wooden chair. Across from him stood two enforcers, most likely from an internal review branch. One was scarred and old, from the look on his face you could tell he'd seen plenty of action in his days and however unlikely it was, he managed to survive it all. The other younger and visibly agitated, he'd been the one to insist on tying Ransu to the chair.

"Is this really unnecessary? You know these ropes don't really mean anything to a deadman, don't you?" Ransu broke the silence.

"Just following procedure, Svar." The old man camly answered with a deep voice.

"Alright, I'll play along." Ransu smirked. "I'm here to talk about that rookie enforcer right?"

"He's dead!" Yelled the young enforcer not comfortable with skirting around the issue.

"Then turn him?" Ransu questioned with a puzzling expression. Most enforcers that died were just brought back as deadmen.

"We can't." The old man let out a sigh. "You liquefied him."

"Oh, right...." He looked around to the room to avoid eye contact.
"Well it wasn't my fault." Ransu slyly followed up.

"How could this possibly not be your fault? You turned the man to mush!" The younger enforcer yelled still agitated.

"Well more of a fine paste-" the words flowed faster than Ransu was able to stop them. "Err... I was under orders?"

"Really? He ordered you to do that to him?" the enforcer continued sarcastically.

"He ordered me to heal him."

"And you call that healing?!"

"Calm down, let him explain." Interrupted the old man.

"Well, healing isn't exactly my strong suit. I warned him this wasn't going to turn out well. If anything he's at fault for not listening to my advice, I know the limits to my magic much better than he did!"

The younger enforcer fell back into his chair defeated. "How-, Healing magic doesn't work that way. I've never heard of it liquefying a person before. In the report it said you even had a rose healing implement. Any mage with basic training should be able to use it for at least first aid."

"Well he needed more than first aid he was on his death bed, so I figured I'd add a little oomph into it. How was I supposed to know the crystal was going to over charge and decay like that." Ransu continued.

"According to your file, you shouldn't have been able to liquefy him at will, your powers don't work like that." The older man looked at Ransu.

"--which means it was accident" Ransu continued pretending as if he was finishing the old man's sentence.

The gates of Gaudis were dyed a reddish tint by the setting sun. Two men walked out towards the parked wagons.

"Hey, you!" The older enforcer gestured at Trista "You're the expedition leader for this troupe right?" He waited for a response.

Trista merely nodded while maintaining eye contact with the older man.

"I'm Gians from internal discipline, this here is Ransu Svar. He's your responsibility now." The man continued.

"Trista?" Ransu said without confidence. "That is you isn't it? Remember me I'm Svar from The Captain's squad. We've met before remember?"

The man was certainly familiar. Trista had encountered him a number of times during her briefs with DMD Captain Siglin Vance. They'd always be together, more than likely due to the fact that those two were some of the oldest standing Deadmen in the country. He hadn't been around lately, not that she had the care to wonder where he had gone. However, the fact that Gians had used the word 'responsibility' worried her, if only a little. Perhaps she should be thankful enough that he was not another seven foot hulking half-breed ogre plated in metal armor and a temper like a raging sandstorm.

"Ransu," she nodded again. "We've indeed met one another, though we've never had a proper chance to speak. So what's this about your reassignment? Filling in lost space? Or something else?" As she spoke, she spotted a man walking into their midst in her peripheral vision, watching him through the corner of her eye as he made his way over the the beast bound in chains. She couldn't tell what he was planning, but the stranger couldn't be up to any good with an intrusion like that. It seemed he was speaking to him, but she wasn't close enough to make out the words. "If you're going to get close to him," she called from her spot, "I would advise that you refrain from provoking him. We have enough trouble keeping that one in check as it is."

The behemoth and his keepers were halted by the intrusion of a stranger. The keepers and the stranger spoke briefly. Then he surprised the giant by walking up close to him and, calmly, patting his his shoulder.

"Take heed, my friend. For you are not alone."

This was... new. When it came to interactions with others it was always with other voicing a tone of fear, rage, or a mix of both. For someone to actually approach him without a hint of either was, well, off putting for the large one. Even more so when the stranger spoke up for him against the commander's warnings.

The giant stood straight, looking down at the other man. A low reverberation emitted from his throat that made the others around them nervous at the sound. The giant regarded the other man, not with his usual scorn but a clear sign of mistrust. A life of brutality made the large one slow to trust others.

Ransu had lost his chance to speak as Trista's attention was currently focused on the foreigner. The half-ogre caught his attention, these weren't exactly native to these parts. He pointed at the caged beast "Is that thing even sentient?" He asked his eye's lit up with curiosity. "I mean, not ogre level sentient, humanoid level?" He tacked on at the end.

"Of course it's not. The damned beast is barely more the a rabid dog." Darkus spat. Waving Ransu's question like it was obvious. "Now if you all are done I'd like to get this over grown pest back where to belongs and on to my paper work. I have to tally up on the groups loses and take care of the mess the brutes made.

The armored behemoth turned towards the wizard and the blond haired one, and growled. Whether it was at the blonde one's comment or just still angry at the old man for his earlier attempts to humiliate him, though, was up for debate.

The man's comment aside, Trista answered Ransu with: "He'd better be if he's going to stick around with us." She kept her vision on the stranger, noticing that a second one was approaching by the man's side. "If not, then there's only such much that we can do. It's not even up to us, really. If the enforcers think he'll be more detrimental than useful, they'll probably execute him or toss him into a cell until he's learned to behave himself. Personally, I'd like to think that there's a brain somewhere underneath those massive plates of his. But who am I to judge? Perhaps the enforcer is right. The only thing that matters is that he can do his job, just as is expected of us."

Nimba heaved an exasperated sigh, snatching up Adrian's cloak and chasing after him as he went after the giant.. thing with the humongous sword strapped to its back. All she could help thinking was: this monster's obviously chained up for a reason, you high-born fool! She didn't say that, though. Nimba knew all too well Adrian's.. history regarding enslavement, so it had to have struck a chord with him deep down inside. For a few moments she just watched the scene unfold as he conversed with the Deadmen. It wasn't until the wizard spoke that Nimba bristled and barked, "And how exactly do you know that, rada im'a ba dho, ya?" Her head cocked to the side, eyebrow raised and a mocking smirk on her lips- half a snarl, half a grin, her teeth gritted and eyes shimmering with a giddy glint. She didn't like this old bastard. There was an air of.. fool about him. He seemed the kind of man who dwelt his days in books, but never stepped out to know things for himself. "Hanya nee ta'go, ku," she turned her head and spat into the sand before turning her nose up at him. A curse, swear and insult rolled into one- and an old Yi Aba proverb, they were a funny people that way.

Darkus turned to the girl, a look of disgust on his face. "Don't presume to talk to me about my subordinates, foreigner." He brought his hands up, making a 'shooing' motion with them. "Get gone, the lot of you. I have business to take care of, and you are trying my patience." He snapped his fingers at the keepers of the giant, and motioned them to bring him inside.

Nimba's fist tightened around Adrian's cloak, still balled up in her hand. She'd half a mind to blast his ass with a column of sand. Wouldn't be too difficult, a simple conjuration- magic through the sand like snakes slithering through undergrowth, gathering the grains together and launching a punching blow right into the old bugger's chest. Like a sock to the gut, but ten times harder. She breathed through her gritted teeth, hazel eyes narrowing furiously, and fought to calm herself. She had a bad habit of letting her emotions get out of control- specifically her vindictiveness. She didn't like getting pushed around, and come to think of it had never really met anybody who did. Rather than saying another word and just fueling the man's flame, she swallowed her spite and resigned to sending another curse his way, "Jiba zan nifu se'hi o' rûd!"

Adrian smiled. In his own way the armored soul graced him with acknowledgment and that pleased Adrian greatly. He did not feel threatened by the titan in the least. Oh, Adrian did not dismiss the threats around him. Certainly not, his senses simply told him that if there was any threat to Adrian's well being it was the men around him, not the titan. Indeed, from the show that was going on around him Adrian felt nothing but scorn for the Deadmen in his presence and rightfully so.

Ignoring the rabble about him, Adrian brought the giant's attention back to him by elegantly spreading his arms, fingers splayed and palms out - the sign that he meant no harm. Ever polite and with the tone one gives to a comrade, "My friend, I mean you no harm." With a slight nod of his head, "I am Adrian. If I might ask, dear man, what is your name?"

Almost instantly, "The beast has no name! Its just a animal, the Mad Cur!" Came the response from the the childish dullard Adrian had been doing his best trying to ignore. Closing his eyes and asking through gritted teeth, "You don't know his name? Have you ever asked?" Seething, switching to his native language, "Ignorant pack of whelps, not worth the seed that conceived the lot of you!"

Reining in his anger and switching back to the language of these lands, "Surely he has a name," Adrian was trying his damnedest to remain civil. "Surely?!" Sighing, Adrian looked up at the titan and patted his chest. "I feel for you my friend, surrounded by ignoramuses as you are."

"Any name will do." Adrian mused for a bit, "Hell, how about Randy?" He didn't know where the name came from but for some reason it seemed to fit. Certainly it was better than what the worm-food around him was calling him.

Eolan had been paying little attention to the scene in front of him from where he sat on the back of the wagon, in the shade of its cover. However, he looked up suddenly from his reading at the sound of a vaguely familiar form of speech. The dialect itself was unknown to him, but might it be...?
He regarded the young woman with a cool stare. "You are Abarran?" he asked, interrupting the altercation between her and Darkus as if wholly unaware of what was taking place.

Nimba's attention was pulled away by another voice. This man looked be a wizard himself, after a fashion, but.. something about him seemed far less bigoted and belligerent. She turned to face him directly, her head shifting to the side a little in a quizzical examination of him. "Yi Aba, yeah. I don't think anyone's called us 'Abarran' since the Carthim dissolved Abarra," she said with a hoarse chuckle, the raging buffoon nearby slipping from her mind. "Didn't really expect anyone to my notice ethnicity this far from Abbedon, especially not by our old name," she admitted with a shrug. Before he could reply, her attention was pulled back to Adrian and the Deadmen. She nodded to the wizard and chased after her comrade waving his cloak at him. He finally took it off her hand, and she stood a few feet behind him silently, until he tried - at least - to make friends with the soldiers. She scoffed at his attempt, rolling her eyes incredulously. This was going nowhere fast, and she was losing interest, at least up until one of the Deadmen addressed her directly. Her head snapped around, eyes fastening coldly onto the girl. "She must think I'm a proper idiot who goes around starting fights," she said, but speaking to Adrian and not the soldier. "I don't throw the first punch," this to the girl, "But your friend the old fool there seems like the kind who might," she snickered.

As the lady folk did their thing, Adrian walked up to the fair barmaid who was rightly shaken. Nodding his head respectfully and speaking softly, "Sorry for the trouble, miss. I wished no misfortune to befall your fine establishment." He owed nothing to the Deadmen woman who seemed to command the others - no allegiances, no nothing. Whilst he would speak to her in time about the matter at hand, it was the innocents among them that warranted his attention. Or at least the barmaid. Adrian never could stand a lady in distress. Kissing her hand, "I will of course help clean up the mess that I aided in causing. It's the least I can do in penance."

Before another word was spoken what could only be described as horns seemed to fill the air from every direction. Beautiful and alien. A low bass otherworldly sound that nearly shook the very fabric of existence. As if the world itself could not comprehend what was uttered before it. And with that godly sound came a sensation of utter power that washed over the world and made Adrian fall to his knees. It appeared as if he was not the only one as every inhabitant of the inn was either on the ground or propping themselves up, some passed out like the barmaid before him.

The horns seemed to change tunes; quieter, and with it the atmosphere altered. Gaining some of his strength Adrian stumbled to the door along with several others...only to look up in awe. Before his eyes twisted and swirled a violent storm of clouds, blue lightening striking down haphazardly. And yet there was no thunder, no wind, no rain. No noise. Time itself seemed to follow the whim of those horns.

It was almost.. soothing.

Forcing himself to tear his eyes away and look around - everywhere he looked those who had not lost consciousness peered up at the vortex. Few were standing, many on the ground or holding themselves against something but most unconscious. No urge to panic, no will go flee. As if a divine orchestrator held his mortal audience in their seats by his otherworldly symphony.

The shaking of the earth took to a new high as the horns played several new notes - playing to a song that only it seemed to understand. The sense of overwhelming power returned in force with the song, magnified to new folds and yet...Adrian did not collapse or lose consciousness as he expected should have occurred. His body seemingly held firm by an unknown will.

The symphony grew stronger as the eye of the storm began to open to let past four pitch black spheres of stone- once free they shot off at unimaginable speeds only to stop cold at a distance Adrian could not accurately judge. Then descended a great white obelisk in the shape of a rectangle. It looked of sandstone and to Adrian's mind it seemed like perfection itself. As if all the architects of the world could not even begin to conceive a form so perfect; so without flaw or blemish!

And what came next was so knowable yet so hard to believe that Adrian's mind nearly went numb: Seven glowing silver gears that materialized from nothingness and interlocked with one another, turning effortlessly amongst themselves. As the black spheres began to circle the collection of gears the symphony of horns felt as if it had come to its climax.

Several moments of silence passed, and then the alien horns made one last, extending note and finally...silence. Complete and utter hush fell across the city, like a blanket lowered to stifle all noise.

To Gaudis, it felt like all of Vasquera had stopped to observe what descended from the divine.

At once Adrian regained some of his sense of motion, he slowly turned away from the entity in the sky and looked around. Few looked to have peeled their eyes away from what lay above them. Touching his cheek Adrian realized he was crying. Everyone seemed to be crying. As if the entity's appearance brought them all to tears.

Gradually Adrian's wits returned, his subconscious providing the answers that his conscious mind was not yet willing to understand. He...he knew what this was. He had read about it long ago, but never even considered he would one day experience it. What floated before them like a god in the presence of ants was what scholars dreamed of seeing. What stood in no pantheon nor was spoken of in any legends. A phenomenon of such tremendous proportions that it was only spoken of in whispers among the learned in their keeps- the laymen never wishing to speak of such a thing. Such a wonder.

An unknown.

A Monolith.