The Mystics IC

[Mid]

A month prior to present day:

"Sir! I have the report." said a meek girl with overly large glasses, that fell off her nose quite often. Quietly, she waited for a sign to continue as the wind blew her blonde pigtails back. Nervous green orbs flickered frequently between the Commander and the Lake Bewrou in front of them. It was one of the largest lakes in the area, once contained by Dark Mist. The water, usually a dark green, was far more blue then what would be considered normal. A group of Elite Mages were forcing most of their mana into the lake, each chanting a smell of Recovery in sync.

The man in charge nodded, his cold blue eyes focused on the event before him, observing every detail. Adjusting her glasses, the girl read aloud from a clipboard in her hands, "Currently the extraction is at 97%. It shouldn't be too long for the recovery to take place. However, it's taking a strain on our Mag--" She jumped as he held his hand up, the man terrified her, as a loud bang rang throughout the clearing, scattering what remaining brave animals remained.

The young scholar followed his eyes, and cried out in shock. The lake was now gone, having been replaced by a large, gaping, hole. Around it were the remains of their once Elite Mage; drained until their skin hung pathetically from their skeletons, completely bare. Overcome with fear, the girl's knees bucked beneath her and she fell to the ground, causing her glasses to fall off. "W-what is this? Th-they're dead! All dead!"

"Hmph... earlier then was expected?" The man spoke without a shred of remorse. A strong breeze swept through, causing black strands to fly away from his face. "That, Enya, is Arcadian treasure." A smirk formed on his face as he watched the giant blue Crystal hover gently above the crater; two shadows could be seen within the Crystal.

“What shall we do, Commander?” asked a quiet voice. The person was completely cloaked, hidden from view with a voice barely recognizable.

With a bark of a laugh, he spoke "Retrieve the prize... and do not touch the bodies." He meant the dead ones.

With a quirk nod, the figure spoke, “As you wish.” Taking out a rather long sword, the masked person walked forward as Namel watched with an bemused smirk. A group of men strode forward in light blue armor, baring the Arcadian symbol: a white swan. The scholar watched as they approached the crystal as fear grew in her stomach. And with good reason, she screamed when a deceased Mage stirred causing Namel to laugh and lean forward eagerly, "So they're finally awake? Excellent."


Arcadia, present time:

People were gathering from all of Arcadia in hope of renewal. Maybe, if they prayed hard enough then the Goddess will hear them and maybe, their Crystal will be restored. All hotels were booked, and people were even camping out in the streets waiting for tonight's events to unfold. It was a day to be recokned with and many people were gitty with excitement.

A young girl twitched the laces of her hood frequently, nervous of the plan they had set for tonight. Anything could go wrong. She was waiting for her contact to appear and wondering where her companion had run off too. He always seem to disappear from her sights.

[Ghaarme]

The city had always been an interesting place for one raised in the silence of Ignal. Busy streets were much more lively than cold stone ruins, and during this particular time even moreso. Jokunda navigated through the small ocean of tents and passerby, quietly apologizing each time he bumped into someone or couldn't get out of the way fast enough...even if it wasn't his fault. After a small eternity of wading through the throng of people who had flocked to Arcadia the bangaa finally made it to a relatively unpopulated stretch of sidewalk. With a quiet sigh he leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the ground.

It had been over twelve days since Jo had departed from the city of ruins. His sudden journey was pushed upon him by the man who he had come to know and respect as a father figure, the old bangaa saying that it would be good to experience a different variety of people instead of doing odd jobs around the decrepit shell of a city that was Ignal. Well...he hasn't failed me yet. I should at least give it a shot, eh? with a deep breath and a slight readjustment to the blinder over his eyes, the sightless bangaa expanded his senses. Within moments the surrounding world grew past the bubble of the immediate area, becoming crystal clear for nearly a mile around.

One edge about being a creature that has little use for eyes was the ability to gather information through other senses. With the amount of noise causes by so many bodies, beating hearts and conversation, the vibrations created a sort of network that allowed Jo to 'see' and differentiate objects and such. Smells abounded as well, breads, perfumes, and...the stinks of the unwashed masses. Jokunda snorted a bit before deciding to take a 'look' around. On the streets and nearby were just a ton of people...different races, mostly hume and elvaan. A couple carts were hawking their wares down the street...that might be something to look at. Just around the corner, in the back of the alleyway were just a few rats gnawing on something rather large and...a person? Female, from what little scent he could discern amid the waste...little too. Jo sighed and crossed his arms in thought. Damn...some brat playin' dirty? being raised in a city of thieves had given the man a fair bit of insight on the back-alley affairs of the world, and as he proved in his earlier years, children were not barred from the game simply because of age. A few moments of silence before he shook his head in dismissal, choosing not to get involved. If anything he would get the girl in trouble.

[Saken]

Kitto could tell the woman whom he was going to help from a mile away. There was just something about the new ones that held a tangible feel to them, as if he could take their nervousness and wrap his body in their emotions. They couldn't really hide how they felt, but in a crowd of the desperate people who were praying for something that would never happen, she didn't really stand out. how odd it would be to think that she was not here to pray, like the masses who were milling around like cattle to be slaughtered. No, this woman was trying to contact him, trying to find help that only he- a thief who was known for his exploits (which could not be proven or he'd be rotting away in some dungeon or another).

The male shook his head, strands of black hair brushing against the nap of his neck and his cheekbones. His green eyes, swimming with flecks of dark blue, narrowed slightly as his tanned cheekbones flushed with a slight pink tint, his head bending forward and his body growing slack. His shoulders rolled forward, giving his entire body a sort of dejected appearance; like most people in the crowd.

That's when he started forward, a slight shuffling, the dragging of his feet against the ground as a dejected sigh fell from his lips, and his eyes rested upon the ground. He was the picture of another sick farmer, dressed in tattered clothing and shuffling through the people, though he was heading towards the back then the front. It would have been to obvious for Kitto to just stop in front of the female who he was supposed to meet so, instead, in a moment of 'clumsiness' he twisted his ankle and fell forward.

A low cry fell from the male's lips as he crashed into the girl, his large body squishing hers slightly if she didn't move. His arms windmilled a tad bit, his head jerked to the side, that intelligent gaze locking upon the female, a dark brow arching. Sure the paranoia was probably uncalled for, but considering what she wanted him to do it was justified.

Of course it was now all up to her- would she realize that he, Kitto, was her contact, or would she shrug him off as some sort of sick farmer? Kitto could feel his lips curl upwards in anticipation. If she was smart enough to figure him out then she might be worth his time past this job.