The Village Cantina

"Ah ha, so you're saying that you are in actuality still protecting this other person for whatever end this person has, then?"

Maximilian muses, delighting in his small exercise of logic.

"A being that cannot be seen by the Common Senses or through the touch and sight of the Aether? That's inconceivable, if it's true. Perhaps then, there's some level of the Aether which even I cannot see through. Well, no one's said that we have a full understanding of it yet. This is quite interesting. Likewise, I am tempted to ask about the nature of those beings, but I fear that will take some time to explain, yes?."

He then admits, before pacing back and forth several steps. Those curious eyes never leaving the offered hand even as he takes his sweet time deciding the proper course of action. For once, he seems to be taking this decision quite seriously, and he even cups one hand over his mouth, resting his arm upon it's fellow's hand as it crosses over his chest. For a few seconds, which in an awkward state, might seem like an eternity, he mulls over the issue. There is a chance he could damage his mind this way, and perhaps it could even hurt his connection to the Aether. The consequences of accepting this offering are great, but so to would the benefits. To think! A totally near perspective on the Aether. It could possibly be considered a travesty to pass up such an opportunity. He could die, his body could falter, as well as his mind. But this alone proves to him what his action should be.

"Preservation of one's health and happiness are distractions, which block the path to Virtue."

He states, in an uncharacteristically serious manner while turning to fully face Matthew. His expression at the same time setting into a firm and dedicated look, before waning back into a tight, minutely curved smile while his eyes close. Once again, he's all smiles and polite reserve. It is at this point that he slowly pulls his own glove free from the appropriate hand, tugging off that bit of apparel finger by finger until the pale white skin on his hand is obvious. Then, he abruptly slaps it into the grip of the other man once more while he tightens his jaw, bracing for whatever comes next. If Knowledge is both a Good and a Virtue, he must not let Fear cloud his thoughts.



At the same time, the other Aiden is pondering another gift of knowledge, though with less of an obvious benefit as an added 'sight'. However, this knowledge is none the less useful, as it could help him locate his lost comrade.

"We Aiden are more than simple telepaths. We are beneficiaries of the Aether, the energy which exists and permeates reality. We harness it to work as a method of enlightenment, defense, or simply as a tool to inspire hope in those who need visible heroes."

Surael once again transmits, his lips never moving, and simply his eyes focusing upon the bizarre skeletal creature before him.

"A memory of existence within existence. This sounds like Illuminator talk. But, you say that these holons are memories, can these memories be traced? Simply put, can you somehow find out where my Brother has gone? It is very important that I find him. You may consider it as me asking for a favor."

Surael explains, while an anxious hand grips his right pant leg about the knee and subsequently wrinkling the fabric there under his grasp rather obviously. It is apparent that he's struggling against his own sense of action, but for the most part his self discipline is holding him strong. It seems that all this talk of destiny doesn't calm him down any, not one whit.

Once he hears Tiresias, he snaps his head up and directs his cool, steely gaze onto the Eudemonian. Those grey eyes narrowing a touch at the air of impudence he has. Does he honestly think he would simply sit here, trying to reason things out with the spectre, if he capable of merely conjuring the Illuminator back while he was in danger?

"If I could, I would have done so already."

Surael states with a slight bite to his tone which could be detected even through his telepathic message. However he does stand up quickly, offers an apologetic nod towards Jessi, and slowly makes his way towards the unsettled group of people around the intial confrontation between Maximilian and Matthew.

"Ah, excuse me. We were simply, ah, rehearsing a magic act. Trying to see if we could make it work outside of a staged environment. I apologize for any inconveniences from our practice."

Surael states, trying to sound at his most convincing and charismatic. This, however, is an abyssmal attempt considering the breadth of the level of disbelief the group carries, and the size of the tale he's trying to put together.In fact, one of the men approaches him, and even thrusts an accusatory finger against his chest.

"Don't talk nonsense, man!"

The patron states, before being aided by his fellows

"Yea! They vanished right into thin air!"

"And what was with that big sword of yours! Where the heck did it go, anyway!?"

At which point, Surael groans aloud, rolls his eyes, and then lifts a gloved hand to settle onto the first "gentleman's" shoulder. He then looks him straight in the eye. The effect is more than a simple stare down however, as he focuses himself to channel the Aether. A minor, luminous glint can be seen in his eyes as he focuses it through himself, and into the man before him. Specifically, he targets a few sensitive areas of the brain which, when manipulated 'just so' can nudge the target into sleep. As such, the man abruptly falls against the Sentinel, who makes a show of struggling to hold him up with his legs bending, and arms coming up in a mock attempt to push him upright. It takes but a few seconds for the man's fellows to all leap from their seats to help up the unconcious man.

"Oh, wow! How much did this guy drink? God, for that matter, how much did all of you drink? Are you really sure of your own judgment in this case?"

He states, while waiting for the men to get close to him. Once he's within a very, very short range he focuses his attentions upon each one in turn, who each simultaneously adopt somewhat stupified expressions. Thankfully, at this close range this cannot be seen too clearly. During this time though, he constructs a "Suggestion", which he imposes upon each of them. First, they will leave, and bring the unconcious man to his home. Then, they shall all retire for the day. Finally, none of them will remember what happened between the Aiden and the stranger, and instead, they will simply remember a night of drunken revelry.

Once he's free from the weight of the unconcious man, the Sentinel spends a few moments brushing himself off, before quirking a brow. Well, he got rid of the closest witnesses, but there were others who, while still confused, don't have the same view as the last group.

"Well, like I said, an impromptu magic act which they took a little too seriously. Some people can't hold their liquor, I suppose. How about I buy everyone a few drinks?"

Surael then offers, while producing a small card from a pouch at his belt, which he waves about inbetween two fingers.

Sai awoke to the gloomy sun and groaned as she tryed to move, she had transformed again last night and was getting the hang of her new body, but the unfortunate thing was that she coudn't remember what had transpiered that night. She looked at her fragile form and swore loudly as she saw the scratches she had gained from her prowlings, quickly she ran her tounge across her sharpened teeth to find a morsel of her meal, she quickly pulled onto her tounge and sighed with relief, again it was deer meat. Sai was happy as a werewolf, but her transformations were becomeing eratic and unpradictable, and she was lucky no-one has found out about her yet. What had alarmed Sai was the odd metalic sent of one of her wounds, it had a strong sent of Iron but it was too strong to be blood, it had to be some sort of weapon and if Sai had killed a human she would be in alot of trouble.

It's hard enough to try and get by without someone on my tail. she told herself before rising to full hight and began to survay the land, or room. It looked like she got back to her room at the inn safely, she let out another sigh of relief as she removed her ripped garments and put clean and fresh ones on. wrapping a cloak around her she left the inn to go for a wander, she needed to find somewhere to 'lick her wounds' basicly, her own joke made her feel alitle more up beat.

when she found the cantena it was early morning and it was just opening, she walked inside and sat at the table away from everyone else, and began to devoure a chicken she had ordered. Now Sai watched as the cantena went through it's normal buisness day untill strangers began to arrive and talk about buisness, Sai finshed splintering chicken bones to listed in.
what an odd lot. she thought to her self trying to contain her disbelief as one just vanished.

looks like today might not be as boring as I though...

Jessi listened to Surael Arcturus, Sentinel of the Aiden Knights and his explanation of his abilities, listened, noted and recorded this frame of memory. A new understanding, a new interpretation of existence, enveloped and isolated from the holon she was in, Jessi marked and remembered it as well.

Narrowing of energies again, Jessi watched the man known as Surael manipulate the energies of the poor unfortunates mind, and chuckled slightly as the man slumbered. Striding forward, wrapping herself in the illusion of bended light, Jessi maneuvered herself near the others who appear to be a part of the greater experience.

As she moved through the tavern, the resonance flowed and thrummed as Jessi was becoming more attuned to this reality, this moment, and this shared existence. As she passed the group of agitated drunks, the Xindhi stopped a moment as she focused on the man who had called out to Surael, he seemed uncomfortable as well. Curious, Jessi stepped closer to him, as she did so the bent light wavered and splayed away so that he and the woman would see her. It seemed they were in league with the darkly clad man, “You seem uncertain companion of Surael Arcturus. Is it regarding the loss of the other Aiden Knight?” The gravelly voice whispered so that only the two at the door would hear her.

As the light bent away revealing her form, the whorls of energy flared a little casting an amber glow that highlighted and framed the shadows in the skeletal face, the dark hood seemed to focus the glow forward away from the crimson behind the head. The dusky and battered chain and leather armor, the wide double sword belts, the thick heavy boots. Mailed gauntlets, streaked with chips and scarification, the translucent necklace that lay on her breast.

Again her voice flowed, “I may be able to extract the memory of existence when the event occurred, we cannot interact with it other than to observe, but we may glean some insight as to the egress of the two.”

He had finally lost it, if the whole mission was going to be a failure he sure as well wasn’t going to add a failure to serve notice on the report back to his superiors. Quickly pointing an accusing hand at the mysterious woman, obviously of some kind of ethereal stock and therefore instantly suspect in the eyes of most Eudemonians, he was losing his temper and he was sure to express it in the best way possible: stern language and strong oaths

Listen here you bunch of witches, I don’t know how or why you barbarians cavort with demons so freely, but it has certainly touched all of your brains, to be sure! Whether the man lives or dies does not actually matter in the personal sense, as he is not my friend, but let it be known that the Ardren government is going to be really, really curious as to how one of their precious knights disappeared. Eudemonia is going to be a little testy too, even if he reappears, as this whole thing went from a important meaning to a goddamn freak show. Now, I know the Eudemonians and the only thing they hate more than people disrupting their plans are barbarians disrupting their plans, and you can bet they are going to investigate this matter with in a less than gentle manner if they even have the slightest inkling in the very deepest recesses of their collective consciousness that something suspect occurred. So you-

It suddenly occurred to him, the naïve Ardren boy couldn’t be trusted. Under the covert protocol dealing with foreigners, anyone captured by any party had to be interrogated and deprogrammed or otherwise neutralized by Eudemonian officials before they were allowed within the intelligence infrastructure. Either he had to be deprogrammed or killed before the Eudemonians would do business with that particular individual ever again. Surely, the older man also knew of the protocol and it’s possible repercussions, and would do his best to fulfill it, lest everyone’s live are forfeit due to aiding a possible traitor

You- get away. There will be hell to pay if don’t.

Gesturing Surael to come over, he looked even more impatient than he was at the very start of this meeting, though something about him gave another impression of some kind of inner resolve, as Tiresias now realized what had to be done in order to nullify the situation and please his masters

As the flesh of Matthew's hand made contact with Maximilian's, a terrific shot of electricity seemed to run through Maximilian's body, until finally subsiding. Suddenly, the two individuals, who had once vanished from what appeared to be thin air, returned into the view of all the goers of the Cantina. Matthew returned his glove to his hand as he looked from one direction to the next as he witnessed the people watching him, staring at him with curiousity and fear.

The man noticed more people had entered the Cantina, and sensed they were not ordinary humans in the least. He stepped back with a cautious foot, finding himself trapped like a mouse to a crowd of ignorant, unknowing cats. His feet grew shaking again; his body was still unaccustomed to the gravity of this foreign world. Yet, his primary concern was with the second Ardren, who seemed the most threatening of the bunch. He had a different feel to him than the Aiden Illuminator. The contrasted completely, one with great joy and happiness in what seemed to be everything, while the other a well disciplined soldier.

Matthew placed his hands in the air, similar to that of which people do when facing arrest, for he believed that such a gesture was the universal sign of surrender in this world. His dead eyes wandered towards Tiresias, then as Surael, until finally resting upon Maximilian. There was little chance that he could escape, seeing as how he had interrupted the meeting so suddenly, and even smaller probability that he would survive. For while he had control in the bizarre, blue world they had previously encountered, his abilities in the human world diminished significantly, at which provided great danger towards his behalf. Matthew said not a word as he stood there, awaiting his fate by the hands of those who were strangers themselves.

Surael doesn't quite move over to Tiresias, as step directly in the line of fire. Right inbetween the scout and the Eudemonian.

"Listen, Eudemonian. I recognize your contempt for the supernatural. But you must accept it when I tell you this. I am far more knowledgeable in this matter than you are. I'm not capable of bringing the Illuminator back. That is not my strength.

He states plainly, while lifting a gloved, and bracer covered arm up in a peaceful gesture. After a few moments, he turns.

"Jessi, any help you could off-"

Surael stops short of finishing his sentence, and he starts to look about in a rather paranoid fashion. Something is changing in the room.

Far away, Maximilian can do little but gasp as he feels that electric surge course from Matthew's hand. He wasn't expecting such a thing, so he abruptly gasps, and loses his coherence for a few moments. When he gathers himself again, he looks up, and around, and abruptly finds himself back right where he started.

Surael then blinks in surprise, and snaps directly towards that familiar presence suddenly appearing mere feet from him. This alone is a shocking fact, but when he turns and finds that Maximilian is not alone, he quickly snaps to attention. The stranger is there, and this is more than enough to cause him to bring his arms to action.

Without any hesitation, he brings himself into a rough, triangular stance and brings his arms up into the air. At the same time, a brilliant, luminous flash appears between them, extending upwards for several feet. From this flash appears a long, acutely tapered longsword. The same one as he had before, in fact. The blade then comes down towards Matthew within the same motion, as the Sentinel didn't even break step while the blade was forming in his hands. Undoubtedly, if he had his way Matthew would be cleft in two where he stood.

However, Maximilian would not let the Sentinel have his way, and he quickly turns with a fluttering of that robe. A similar sort of flash then appears in his right hand, leaving a sharply pointed, pappenheimer styled rapier which he uses to intercept the Sentinel's own weapon. There is no linear block, however, and he simply uses the base (Or "stark") of his blade to guide Surael's sword tip away from it's intended target with the sound of brief, metallic rending as the blades meet. For that brief moment of contact an obvious aetherial interference can be seen, while the blades spark and crackle with the energy of the two blades.

"Why do you block me, Maximilian?"

Surael barks, already moving into another stance that brings the cross guard of his sword up next to his head with the length of the weapon being held horizontal, tip directed towards Matthew.

"Surael, let ease your arms. He means no harm. We simply had to have a private discussion about something of grave importance."

Maximilian offers, once more returning to that chipper state. Already, he lowers his own Blade, which starts to turn to a more mist-like state as it slowly deconstructs. He knows the Sentinel trusts him.

Surael's grip tightens upon that blade for a few moments. Maximilian is asking him to set down his arms against a figure who just made off with him into the night, so to speak. However, the Illuminator seems to be in good health, despite such a misfortune. For now, he'll trust him, so with considerable hesitation he relaxes his grip upon that sword, and it swiftly dissipates into a fine mist in between his hands. He does make sure to keep his gaze fixed upon the Stranger, who seems to be surrendering.

"Very well. I will be taking him into custody, though. I intend to find out what all this was about."

Jessi listened to the man who was apparently even more agitated than before, in fact there seemed to linger a sense of resentment at the mere presence of the Xindhi. Before she could reply the one known as Surael came between them, the tone in his voice was also on edge as he tried to calm the, what was it…Eudemonian? Surael called the angry man Eudemonian. The coalescing lights misted and swirled, the lumens coming from the face of Jessi cast a amber pallor on the two men.

Surael turned to speak to her, in fact he was in the middle of asking a question when he stopped, Jessi felt it as well, the resonance of the room changed, there was a flux of energy, the same energy that left traces where the two men had vanished earlier. With a sudden twist of her frame Jessi faced the new comers, and watched as Surael summoned a sword in a display if light, interesting, an energy signature accompanied the manifestation of the sword.

Stepping away from the door and the other two who were with the dark clad knight, Jessi thrummed the darshan, allowing it to flow in her, as she did so the energy was diverted and infused the swords that sought release from their tombs, seeking the light of this reality. As Jessi moved to the left of the three men, she allowed the ambient light that she was bending around her to diffuse and finally fade away, to those unable to see through the initial illusion the Xindhi appeared to materialize out of thin air as the others had.

The appearance of the dusky armored, heavy cloaked and hooded being with glowing, swirling orbs of energy where eyes should be, caused several people to gasp. Chairs were turned over, mugs and glasses spilled and dropped on the floor. It was too much, regardless of the explanation Surael had given about a magic act, the infusion of three people out of no where, the sudden appearance of swords and the decidedly antiquated appearance of Jessi strained the mental energies of those in the tavern. Some passed out, others shrieked in fear and confusion, while other drew out pocket knives and gripped bottles in a frightened display of threatening gestures, as if the bottles would ward against the swords.

While the light was in the process of returning to the normal wave path of the source, Jessi lifted her mask and once again only the flaring, swirling miasma of energies could be seen where eyes should be. As she watched the interplay between the two knights and the different swords each used, it was apparent that the knights of Aiden were more than an archaic order of armored warriors. Turning her attention on the other stranger, it seemed by his body response, the raising of his hands, indicated supplication.

Seeing the resonance as it flowed and carried around him, the traces of the energy that swirled around his form indicated he was a man of incredible power. Jessi noted and memorized the energy signature and framed it in the holons memory, extracting each scene observing the actions and reactions of the physical world to the advent and insertion of such energy.

The Cyrillic(I use that as the ethnicity to describe members of the Red Technocracy) General stood in the shadows of the Catina, watching as the events unfolded. There was a fight, and a very entertaining one at that. He sipped a small glass of Vodka as the men battled, keeping on guard, as if they were going to come his way. This was very interesting, they still wielded swords in an era of weapons that were both and small. Should he shoot one and prove his point?

"This, is what I come here for."

His remark was to no one in particular, save for a man so drunk that we wouldn't have cared, let alone understood the meaning of his comment. Nikov drank, but he realized the danger of alcohol, and certainly didn't want to become like the bedraggled man next to him, wasted out of his mind, and certainly poorer than any member of the Proletariat.

Novik looks down at his glass of Vodka, it is empty. He shakes his head, and stands up, careful to not step on his ornate and gilded robes, despite their elegance, they are cheaply made via a matter fabrication device that is found on many worlds. Still grasping his empty glass, he takes the long way round, and approaches the barkeep, who is shining mugs at the time.

"One Vodka, refill."

He says, in a contented voice. As the barkeep pours his drink, he watches the two swordsmen duel off. They are archaic, he thinks, but they are skilled in their craft beyond that of a man with a Las Rifle. He moves hid into the folds of his Crimson robes, and draws a pistol. It is no ordinary slug-thrower, it is a piece of a art, a monument to armories all over the Technocracy. It is a Las Pistol, and one gilded and modified to the exact preferences of Nikov

The bartender by now had finished refilling his glass, and goes back to washing and polishing mugs. The man in Crimson robes has been idle to long, and there is no reason to wait for him to snap out of his trance. Nikov shakes himself of his trance, and picks up his drink, smiling at the barkeep.

"Time for some fun..."

Nikov is a Red Technocrat "diplomat", not a real one, but a member of the 13th Universal, devoted to bringing revolution to the Universe. He sits down at his former seat, and sets his Vodka next to the drunk, who is still sitting there. He takes the trigger of his Las Pistol, and pulls it, firing an invisible beam of incredibly concentrated light at mirror facing the swordsmen, dashing his Las Pistol into his robe as fast as he pulled the trigger. He, like many other members of the 13th Universal, hate swords with a vengeance, and this fight could use an end. Red Technocrats act for the greater good of the State.

Tiresias scowled at the haughty Ardren and his impudence, starting to suspect he hadn’t the faintest idea as to the severity not just his friend was in, but everyone present during the meeting. Everyone was compromised at this point, even Tiresias himself. Sensing the desperation of the situation as well as the futility in trying to reason with ones so dogmatic as the Aiden Knights, he began to ready his weapon incase the entire thing was some sort of ruse on the part of rogue Aiden, that was until the two emerged from whatever dimensioned had torn them from the world so suddenly.

About to greet the pair in a show is disarming courtesy, he was instead taken aback by the two Aiden knights clashing swords, fully convincing Tiresias that either one or both of them had gone mad. Giving a concerned look towards the junker woman, he was poised to act upon the situation before him to ensure that his employer would only try and interrogate one person as opposed to everyone involved.

Ju-..Salvager, you must recall Eudemonian diplomatic policy FA-20d, yes?

He gestured with his head to the newly arrived Aiden and his captor.

They violated it, so it follows that we must act in accordance…

Then it happened. As fate would have it a fellow technocratic socialist diffused the fight wile simultaneously distracting both the Aiden and the kidnapper and allowed Tiresias to train his weapon on Maximillian, ready to blow apart the man’s chest with a 5mm railslug should he need to. Tiresias began to shift away from the Junker woman, both as a way to gain some distance on Maximillian and therefore avoid a melee engagement, and as a way of signaling the woman to attack from the opposite side in order to confuse the trio as much as possible.

Alright, “Max” hands up and don’t make a move. You too, pretty boy.

he quickly gestured the gun towards Matthew before training the weapon on Maximillian once more

You have to come with me, or everyone will pay for it. Eudemonia will request the incarceration of both of you, and it would be in everyone’s best interest if you complied before people start to get hurt.

Gesturing the weapon towards Surael, he waved the gun back over to the hapless pair, training his eyes down the weapon and waiting for any sudden moves on their part.

Arrest BOTH of those men, we have to make a trip.

Skogul didn't think the situation could dive any further into the sewer than it had as that spectral woman approached and made herself clearly visible to all, the excess energy flowing from her and whatever realm she spawned in began to take its toll on the salvager as her vision went blurry for a few short, but agonizing moments and a dull, thumping pain began to form a steady rhythm behind her eyes. Such was the price of being able to detect energy patterns visually.

Instinctively, she backed away a few steps as that creature approached her and the disgruntled Eudemonian man, her flight instinct having begun to nag her more harshly by the minute and she considered just dropping her role in this bizarre circus to run to a place of safety, far away from the menagerie of eccentrics and beings of dimensions she had never heard of. Before she could act on her primal adrenal response, Maximillian and the other man reappeared, just as mysteriously as they'd left. She froze as the two Aiden then clashed blades, feeling the urge to flee well up like a tidal swell off the rocky coast of her homeland, especially as Tiresias suggested she aid him in subduing and capturing the two who had just returned to the current plane of existence.

She stared at the bespectacled man for a moment with an expression of disbelief, maybe because his accent had grown thicker in response to his agitation with the course of events or because she never expected to be recruited for his country's protocols, then turned her gaze back to the door behind her. It would be so easy to just run; she had no obligations to apprehend these men or to serve Eudemonian interests, so why risk her life for any of it? She got what she came for and her business was done here. These people and... things weren't the least bit interested in her from what she could tell anyhow. Her thoughts were conflicted, and her conscience urged her to fight her most basic desire to flee a scene of danger and to help Tiresias, who was up against tall odds if left alone, not that she would level those odds much by staying.

With a deep breath to center herself, cursing herself for wanting to do what she considered the right thing, Skogul took a couple of seconds to fight down her temptation to escape the cantina and reached back to pull a concealed pistol from a hidden compartment under the back of her cincher. It was a sad looking weapon, one she'd salvaged not too long ago... practically an antique, but it worked... most of the time. She brought it up to point at Matt and hoped the gun would function if it needed to, as her companion in this situation was aiming at the Ardren and moved in the opposite direction as Tiresias without so much as a word, her headtails now held at hip-height behind her, menacing circi wide open and ready to lunge should anyone make a movement she didn't like, swaying gently like serpents waiting to attack unsuspecting prey.

Sai watched the fight intently, she had never seen such a thing in her life. but there was a problem with watching violence, a familier feeling ripped it's way through her body as she felt herself begin to change, standing up suddenly she rushed to the restroom and locked herself in one of the cubicals. it was there she began her transformaton.

Her bone began to grow, almost ripping her skin apart. Then her mucles began to bulge ripping her clothes. her skin finaly her skin joined in with the transformation giving her some relief. he face began to elongicate pulling it into a snout. Her pupils contracated and bled a yellow like substance that dyed her iris yellow. Thick midnight blue fur sprouted from the body, and a tail grew also. during this time her mouth opened yet no sound would come out, alowing her to transform without being discovered, now that was the last thing on her mind.

Sai burst from her cubical and snarled in disapointment, there was no-one there. A wonderful sent crossed her nose, it was the sent of food. she crawled on all fours following the sent to the barkeeper and before her knew what had hit him she pounced and grabed him by the throat letting fresh blood fill her mouth. she then stood upto full hight, she wasn't hungery, she was doing this for fun.

While the two Aiden bring themselves down from a state of armed conflict, it seems the room around them breaks into madness. First, not only did Maximilian and Matthew appear out of no where, but moments later Jessi chooses to make herself visible, both of which cast the tavern's patrons into a tizzy, and then the miniature exchange of swords. Finally, after all this there's an armed stand off, with Tiresias aiming his gun at Maximilian. This is something which causes Surael to narrow those cold eyes, and lower his hands down into a position which is reminiscent of a sword stance. It's apparent what his intentions are. However, he makes no rash actions. With all these matters presented before him, neither he nor Maximilian make much of a mirror shattering which, amidst all the other shattering glass from riotous patrons, doesn't seem all that out of place.

"Oh dear, it seems I'm in quite a bit of a problem. I was technically captured for a short while, ah?"

Maximilian actually muses, while lifting loose sleeved arms up into a similar manner as Matthew. He even offers something of a conspiratory grin towards the 'Stranger. Both are, after all, in essentially the same situation. It's at this moment that Surael speaks, sounding deadly serious.

"I wasn't about to let him go into the darkness a moment ago, and I'm sure as hell not willing to let him go now. We have our own processes for this matter, They will both be leaving with me, and I advise you lower your weapon. That is, unless you can think you can handle a Sentinel at this range."

Surael states, his words steeled with the intention of finality. While he was told to 'arrest' them both, he still wanted to make sure that it was made clear where the two of them would be heading. It's at this point, to offer a sort of peaceable offering from his body language.

"We have a Justiciar in this region. He will be able to confirm or deny any suspicions you...or I have."

He explains, while turning his gaze towards Matthew upon mentioning "Or I". It's apparent he does not have any amount of trust in the man.

"Oh, gentleman, lady, I think we have a larger issue to concern ourselves with that my own arrest."

Maximilian offers with a tone of curiosity, which sparks a similar sort of reaction from Surael, who starts to look around seconds before a...creature bursts from one of the back rooms of the tavern. An action which immediately causes him to spin around on a heel, and put himself between Maximilian and the beast. A glance is then turned to the other patrons, who are already scattering away from the creature as it already feasts upon the bar keeper. Another man he knows quite well would already be lunging into the fray, but right now he's simply concerned with his comrade's safety.

"By God! What is that thing?"

He shouts aloud, while bringing his hands down into an arming position. With a thought, that same long blade flares into his grasp, and he brings the blade up next to his head, pointing the tip horizontally towards the creature. His Ochs stance should be sufficient for now.

"Eudemonian! If you're going to get those two out of here then this is the time to do it. I'll see what I can do to keep it from us. Maximilian, see if you can signal for back up! Now go!"

As the room broke into a chaotic mess, Jessi kept her attention on the one who held the interesting energy traces; he was the one who held new manipulations of existence. Edging around as the men before her scattered and drew what appeared to be knives of some sort and whipped bottles around, she seemingly ignored them, her attention never leaving the one person in the room who seemed able to create a sub-holon within the current holon, clearly someone of interest.

Only when those who she had assumed to be allies of the dark clad Surael drew their weapons and focused on the two knights did she halt and twist her frame so she could watch them as well as the two knights and the man with raised hands. However even as she turned her cloak flowed and whipped behind her, allowing the hilts of her swords to be easily grasped if need be. Clearly this holon was one of strife and war, that was the lingering though that Jessi stamped onto this moment.

Even now the knights seemed to try and reduce the mistrust, one with a threat the other with what appeared to be humor. Curious their different approaches to the matter at hand. While the discussion took place, a roar erupted from the shadows in the back of the tavern, and then it bound out, a beast, which promptly attacked the barkeep who justifiably wanted to defend his establishment. As the spray of blood from the vicious bite created minute particles of crimson, it splattered and coated those close by as well splashing lazily into drinks in a radius around the man.

What had been chaos before was absolute insanity now, people screamed and frantically struggled to escape, the knights seemed shocked by the event, by the savage beast that suddenly emerged. Drawing the sword Doom Bringer from it’s sheath, Jessi stepped within five feet of the knight Surael, as she did so her gravelly voiced carried across the frightened shouts, “This world is a plethora of experiences is it not?” With that, Jessi kicked away a round table and assumed a hang guard with her long sword, the energies swirled and flared around her eye sockets. Adjusting her weight slightly, the sword held before her the tip of the sword pointed downward.

Reaching out she began thrumming the resonance, as she did so, doom bringer began to respond and flared and arced as thin streaks of electrical energy washed down along the blade, creating a slight humming sound.

Swords were drawn, she could hear every movement and even the shock that ripped through most of the people that sat within the room. Sai was terrifyed but the monstrosity she had become was not, "You dare raise a sword to me?" she asked her animalisic voice sounded almost male, she found herself chuckeling slightly.
" 'What am I?' you ask, I am an animal that is Human, and a human that is an animal...regardless, you should consider that man's death your fault because it was your fight that allowed me to take control." she sniggered climbing onto the bar its self. two of them now stood with swords at the ready, pathetic 'do they need two of them to threaten me?' she thought as she looked at them both, waiting for her words to take effect.

Tiresias was seconds away from simply pulling the trigger and striking down Surael where he stood when something in the corner of his eye began to horrifically change form and dart about the room to rip into the barkeep like some kind of crazed animal. A look of typical Eudemonian disgust so tragically common of them and their experiences with the cruelties of barbarians washed over his face as the poor man was eaten alive, his only crime being in the wrong place at the wrong and in the presence of unwashed barbarians. No doubt the man’s last moments were brutal and agonizing, and Tiresias decided he should repay the animal in kind lest the beast develop a taste for blood and get the idea in it’s primitive mind that there is no justice among humans.

A small sense of satisfaction filled his heart as he fired three 5mm rail slugs at the creature, the small projectiles firing within milliseconds of one another and with almost no spread due to the highly efficient Eudemonian firing systems. The rounds, if they stayed true, would most likely cause horrible tissue damage due to the metalloid-polymer composite construction of the rounds. A certain smell of ozone filled the air as the rounds scorched the atmosphere around them, leaving a scent of warfare no less universal among those familiar with modern warfare than cordite.

After firing off said rounds, Tiresias edge backwards towards the door, alternating his aim between the Maximillian, Matt, and the beast. At this point the situation was beyond hope, and Tiresias entertained the idea of calling for back up more and more, despite whatever possible consequences may arise due to such.

Nikov is watching the action from his seat, and decides to help Tiresias. He whips his Las Pistol from beneath his robes once again, and decides to fire multiple shots at the people to man with the railgun is covering. He is thinking that this will be the right thing to do, as the conflict is political in nature, and the the man seems to have the upper hand legally and morally.

"I think I will help."

He pulls the trigger of his Las Pistol, sending multiple bolts of light energy at the man's foes, and watches with interest as he puts his pistol down again. He is a good shot, and a man who spends time on a shooting range in his off-hours. He smiles, and makes a military gesture for okay, hoping that the man will see it.

Matthew found the situation growing more and more intense as bizarre event began to take place, with him at the center. Knowing that the circumstances were critical, he knew that only impulsive, and what others may regard as foolish, actions could possibly grant him a stalmate between himself and his pursuers. Thoughts of drastic plans formulated in his mind, all of which almost guaranteed his own death. However, at the moment, his life was not of his main concern, but instead Maximilian's. His life was important to this person he obviously cared greatly about, enough to allow himself to be killed in the process if necessary.

Matthew took a sudden deep breathe, and in mumbled words spoke to Maximilian.

"If I die, think about it"

Exactly after saying those words, Matthew swiftly placed his hand on Maximilian's arm, and suddenly the Aiden Illuminator was no more, having vanished in thin air yet again. Matthew, on the other hand, suprisingly did not. As quickly as Maximilian was out of the picture, Matthew kicked one of the many people in the crowd towards Tiresias and Skogul's direction, causing both the innocent bystander, the Junker, and the Eudemonian to tumble onto the ground. In a fraction of a second, Matthew picked up a broken wine bottle and leaped into the air, and with a stylish somersault landed behind a table, placing the elderly man who had originally been positioned at that table under his will by holding the bottle under the person's neck. Leading himself backwards quickly through the Cantina with the man as a shield, he dropped the man as he reached the door. However, his legs had gone through far too great of a strain during his actions, especially after still not having a steady foot with gravity in place, and as such he tripped over his feet and fell onto the ground. Matthew scrambled to crawl out of the Cantina, and soon was staggering onto the sidewalk.

Matthew knew well that he was going to die at this point. His legs would not allow him to run, and after the scene he had just developed his slow pace would soon catch the eye of the others, and their guns would eventually fire smoking bullets through his body, and that would be the end of it. Furthermore, his use of the blue realm he had placed himself within before was at the moment off limits, seeing as he had used all of his energy in protecting Maximilian. At this moment, Matthew cared only that Maximilian would be able to solve the riddle he had placed to escape the other world, before the creatures began to prey upon him.

In the blur of the chaos taking place in the cantina, Skogul had little time to react between the stand-off with the lithe stranger and the Ardren men, the sudden and unexpected transformation of the anonymous girl who'd entered without anyone having really taken notice of her presence and her subsequent slaughter of an innocent man behind the bar and feral challenge to all those willing and able to engage her in combat. There was also the matter of that dark specter of a woman, who was now wielding a blade crackling with unearthly energy and looking just plain menacing. Now, the Eudemonian she was closest to had fired off shots, the noise of the gun causing her throbbing headache to spike sharply for several long seconds as she flinched. She had no time to assess the damage to the lycanthropic creature as Maximillian disappeared once more, again by the lanky man's doing. She didn't understand nor care about the metaphysical nonsense he was going on and on about or even where the more foppish Aiden had vanished to once again, as his cause was lost. She was only now concerned with action and a resolution to this disaster of a meeting she was suckered into attending.

Before she could process the happenings, that mysterious man had used a bystander as a living projectile, the impact with the thrown body knocking her down and causing her to drop and lose track of her own weapon, but the brunt of the man's weight didn't land on her, and she pushed him off with relative ease and was back on her feet by the time Matthew had managed to make a reckless break for the door and dropped his human shield. She was on him as he went down and tried to scramble down the street; the advantage was in her favor as she used her headtails, the segmented and armored tendrils that were nearly her full body length to shoot forth as she stopped outside of the cantina with deadly accuracy, the circi clamping down their targets -- one on Matthew's wrist, the other on one of his ankles and she pulled... hard. The strength of the tendrils and circi exceeded that of her more humanoid limbs by about three times and easily managed to yank the would-be escapee back toward the bar's entranceway and hold him securely. She crouched, lowering her center of gravity to help keep any struggle Matthew might have left in him from pulling her down and held fast, probably causing some moderate amount of damage to the joints her headtails were clamped down on like living vices, but at this point, she couldn't care less.

Got 'im! Anyone want to give me a hand over here??

She called with a slight grunt, unable to actually turn her head back to the group assembled in the cantina proper without compromising her hold on the man; there was a good amount of urgency in her voice. She had no idea what to do with Matthew now that she had him. It wasn't her call, since she had no one to turn him in to. He wasn't a piece of scrap to salvage and wasn't at all valuable to her, she just acted on instinct when she noticed him try to escape.

Surael's focus at this point is absolute, and his awareness of the Aether around him is as high as it's ever been under real combat. in the back of his mind, he's aware of everything that's happening around him, granting him unique spatial awareness, and practically granting him a sense of precognition. After a minor look towards Jessi, who seems to have taken up arms alongside him, he fixes his gaze upon the murderous Creature as it offers a futile attempt at redirecting the blame for it's deeds.

"Regardless or who or what is responsible of being your catalyst, your actions are your own. You are apparently some sort of parasite. A virus upon these people. I cannot permit this to continue."

It is at this point that Surael starts to step forth, and with an expert form brings his blade down till the tip almost touches the floor with one swift motion. Surprisingly, as the blade descends it crackles with energy as he focuses a certain level of Aether into it, which then forms along the cutting edge. As the blade comes down, a single arch of shining energy flares from that motion. He quickly follows through with two other motions, one horizontal and the other diagonal. All three motions directed with little spread towards the Beast before him. Undoubtedly, each arch is quite dangerous, as shown by a stray table in their path which gets literally torn apart by all three 'blades'.


At the same time Maximilian, who kept his hands up in a placated gesture right up until Surael actively sought to engage the beast taunting him, is actually quite surprised to find himself cast from that location to another. This is starting to get a little inconvenient. Surael also notices this sudden disappearance again, but to become distracted by this in the face of a foe could lead to his own death.

"Well now, where am I this time?"

He questions, looking around with a curious look.

The entire scene in the tavern was becoming chaotic. Energy was being expelled at a great rate, energy of weapons, energy of holon manipulation, the odd little energy discharge created by the man who held raised hands prior to the appearance of the feral beast. The knight Surael attacked the creature with a technique Jessi made memory of, a memory that the sleeper would find interesting.

Since most people in this chaos who carried weapons seemed to ignore her, judging by the patterns and thrums of the directed energies that coursed through the small space, they focused on the beast, the Aiden knight and the odd energy manipulator, Jessi had a choice to make now, merely fade into the shadows and watch or take an active hand in this experience.

As the sounds of conflict erupted behind her, near the door, Jessi made her choice, with a sudden and swift step forward as if she were passing guard on an opponent she swung the long sword up and over her head, as she stepped forward again, the moment her right foot touched the ground so the blade would swing forward of her as if cleaving an opponent. The humming, crackling energies that had built upon along the surface of her long sword discharged with a thunderous roar. The room, being small and in all respects a normal tavern, reverberated as the sonic boom rippled through the confines. Those patrons who had taken their pocket knives and grabbed bottles were stunned by the cacophony that erupted a scant few feet from them, many fell to a knee covering their ears, as the sound rang around their heads affecting the equilibrium of more sensitive patrons many who lost their balance and tumbled to the ground, clutching their ringing ears.

The blade was now fully charged with darshan, it crackled and sparked as if made of electricity, the surface now a brilliant blue-silver barely restrained form of electrical energy.

OOC: If this seems out of order and you have plans to try and escape the grasp of Skogul’s char, Matt, just disregard.

IC:

Tiresias slammed into the frame of the cantina entrance with a loud thump, causing him to let out a small grunt as he recoiled from the attack, his right hand jerking away and firing three more rounds indiscriminately towards the right side of the room, two of the rounds harmlessly impacting against the wall with the last round striking a young woman in the chest with an unceremonious soft thwumping sound as the round shattered her sternum and made quick work of the vitals in the left side of her ribcage. Slumping to the ground she made not sound nor stilled, her passing marked only by a small trickle of blood oozing from her mouth.

Tiresias quickly regained his composure, paying no heed to the dead woman and those panicking around her, nor to the wounded man as he stepped over him with a demonic single-mindedness and over to the presumably incapacitated Matt. Tiresias walked over to the man gingerly, almost with a sadistic glee, stopping 8 feet in front of the man and pausing thoughtfully before quickly leveling the weapon at Matt’s head while simultaneously pressing his left ear, obviously activating some kind of communications device planted in his head

Calico Cypress reporting in, send the baggers.

He coldly stated without so much of a pause before re-focusing his attention on the man once more, his professional veneer never cracking even as he allowed a subtle, almost imperceptible smile break through at the right corner of his mouth. Whether it be the action, chaos, or simply the thrill of victory, he was enjoying this. Peering down the weapon, he clicked the fire mode to single shot, looking at Matthew straight in the eyes through the sights of the weapon, almost as if he were talking –through- it.

I’ve had enough of you, barbarian. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay put…

He stated coolly, punctuating the remark by a slight adjustment of the weapon and a single round leaving Tiresias’ gun to blow through Matt’s free hand. Providing the round hits, it would mostly likely impact and catastrophically shatter at least one of his metacarpal bones in addition to destroying a good deal of the flesh within the associated region include the valuable network of tendons and whatnot the hand needs to function properly. The injury, provided Matt had the constitution to survive the initial shock and blood loss, would be fairly minor and mainly serve as a handicap for Matt should he attempt escape while also assuring he is in a good enough condition to undergo, and perhaps survive, his inevitable interrogation

Matthew's face looked utterly perplexed at the thought of being called a barbarian.

"Barbarian?" Matthew asked rheotically. "If a barbarian means one who protects that which is dear to him, then yes, I am a barbarian."

Matthew closed his eyes as Tiresias placed the gun towards him, and readying for what he knew would eventually come next. Pain. It grew intense as the blood began pouring out of his hand, the bullet having made a hole through the flesh and bone. Yet, no tears bore through from his eyes, and he made no sound. Matthew took the pain without remorse, believing entirely that his actions had been just for his cause. As the bloody hand hung on Skogul's headtails, the blood dripping onto the pavement, an odd peace grew from the stranger.

"I understand your actions. You wish to protect something dear to you. I wished to protect something as well. For that, I can not hate you."

Matthew's body shook for a second, and a pack of cigarettes dropped from his coat pocket.

"I simply ask that you light a cigarette for me, if you don't mind."

Matthew's head drew up from its lowered position, and his eyes watched the Eudemonian. Through the orange tinted goggles were eyes that seemed beguiling, wierdly soothing. Yet, coldness shown through as well, even if his eyes were not clouded with hatred.

Meanwhile, in the blue zone, terrible creatures sounded from all directions, their screams filling the air. It was the same blue place as before, and there was no doubt that those were the same creatures as well. It was vacant, as always, except for the vicious animal shrieks which indicated otherwise, yet their appearance was still unknown, as was their purpose.

OOC note: Heimdall tells me that his modem crapped out earlier today, but he should have another one up and running by tonight. He tells me that he doesn't want anyone waiting for him, as he'll catch up later.

(( I am waiting for the werewolf to react since I am focused on her at the moment, and not the drama behind me))

OOC: Bah, I guess the cable company said they won't be able to get him a new modem until Saturday. Utter nonsense, like they don't keep a few dozen modems in the back or something...

At any rate, he should be getting back online on Saturday, if everything goes well.