Considering his closed-in existence and diet of rat stew, the suggestion that he was letting himself get soft made MorbId smile. Slightly. There was an element of self-reproach in the smile, though - it was humbling to be beaten at one's own stealthy game.

"..And maybe if we are lucky, on our two of our distant allies would join us. Well what do you say?" Vise finished.

"Sounds like a plan." MorbId replied, speaking softly. "Not quite a scheme yet, but there is potential. Certainly workable in the short term."

His fingernail hygiene finished, the knife returned to its convenient pocket. Another pocket yielded a pair of round sunglasses, which MorbId began to polish. The pupils of his eyes had become permanently dilated from in the underground gloom, to take advantage of the minimal light. Unfortunately, MorbId's once-green eyes had become so photosensitive that the sunglasses were necessary in anything brighter than twilight.

"I have been a little cut off, down here, though." MorbId admitted, slipping the sunglasses over his mostly black eyes. "Do you know where to find the others? Or at least where to start looking?"

[ 03-03-2004: Message edited by: MorbId ]

The chair squeaked a little on the floor as Nicole pulled it back, sliding out of it in a smooth motion and standing beside her former seat. She stretches, long and languorously, like a cat, letting her back and ribs make a few crackling noises before settling forward into her usual slump. She leans to regard herself, taking in her body, her clothing: her soft frame was free of obvious muscle and bone, hid behind tight black clothing, black and red velvet and leather covering her almost completely. A frown. Not good; she'd never be good at dealing and deflecting blows. For her type of fighting, as much skin as possible needed to be exposed. She began pulling off the rings that held on her long mesh gloves, depositing them with a clink of silver in a pocket.

"I won't take long to get ready for... confrontation," she murmured, slipping off one long glove and rolling it into a tight mesh ball. "My way of fighting is a little weird. It'll take me a little bit to get ready. Not long, maybe half an hour. After that, well..." The other glove made a soft, fabric-sounding snap as she pulled it from her hand; the skin underneath was cotton-white. She could feel a dull ache beginning, inside the bones. "What happens, happens."

"Sounds good to me... I'll need time to fortify this place - but it can wait a while."

She looked to Caid, who'd just asked her for a room. Smiling, she nodded and gestured at the stairs.

"Up there, fourth on the left." She said.

She looked at Nicole and grinned.

"I remember your old forms, yes... I'm assuming you remember how I used to fight, too?" She said, standing up and stretching wide.

"And it will strike twice as much fear into them when we unveil it with a bang," Parcelan replied, taking a sip of the whiskey. "Have no fear. The weapon will serve its purpose well."

"I suppose," the assistant prairie dog said, a scowl coming across his rodentine face. "The others are all upset that we're leaving, though. We've never been to a place as nice as this."

"We'll find better," Parcelan said, "and someday we'll return to hear...after we throw it to the wolves, that is."

"How do you explain that?" the assistant asked. "If we want to consolidate your power, why are we leaving so soon?"

"Because the people of EverCrest are dense," the leader rodent replied with a chuckle. "Drysart knew it and knew to keep that fact hidden from his people. Bloodsage let them know, but he had the brute force to back it all up. The point is, neither of them used it to their advantage."

Seeing his assistant's confusion, he sighed, took another sip, and continued.

"Once we leave EverCrest City, what small order there is here will shatter," Parcelan said, giggling morbidly to himself. "There's no one as strong as me left to keep everyone in line, and these imbeciles will fall over each other trying to seize control. In the two years we're gone, there will be a hundred governments in our place, and each one will be a hundred times worse than ours."

He smiled to the rodent camera crew, who now all wore wicked grins on their faces.

"By the time we come back in the spring, we'll be more full of food and booze than ever before," he said, "and they will be only too glad to see us take the reigns. By then, their fight will be gone and they'll know nothing but serving us."

"Live in thirty seconds," the prairie dog cameraman spoke up.

"In the meantime," Parcelan finished his secret conference, "the weapon will put the image in the peoples' minds of what a great and terrible force we are."

"5...4...3..."

Whatever people were watching at the time was suddenly gone, replaced at once by the image of a portly prairie dog dressed in a fine suit sitting behind a counter. The smile he flashed to the camera only appeared genuine; anyone who knew Parcelan knew his smile was just as fraudulent as his claims of loving mercy.

"Good evening, EverCrest," he said, his smile suddenly twisting into a frown. "I'm sorry we can't begin tonight's special announcement on a good note. It seems that there has been far too many deaths in EverCrest. Violent ruffians...silly little barbarians, really...are wantonly going about, slaying citizen and prairie dog alike."

He shook his head sadly as a black screen appeared above his shoulder on the television.

"This saddens us all," he continued, "as safety cannot exist without order, and order cannot exist without discipline. Though it pains me to do so...I cannot let these murders go unnoticed. Please, brace yourselves. And you may want to ask children to leave the room."

Suddenly, the black screen zoomed in and filled the entire monitor, its blackness suddenly turning to a picture of downtown EverCrest...with one particularly noticable difference.

Towering in the middle of a plaza stood a monstrosity that people hadn't seen since the days of Bloodsage. It was immense, standing over fifty feet tall at one of its six heads. A powerful, elephantine body with a leather hide that seemed more dense than the concrete of the buildings. From its massive shoulders snaked six long necks, each topped with a savage, furry face. The six heads looked about, their white eyes narrowed in anger and their lizard-like tongues snaking in and out of their toothy maws. At their clawed feet swarmed dozens of brutes and prairie dogs alike, even the massive beasts looking like naught but ants beneath the massive beast.

"Behold the Parcehydra," came Parcelan's voice from off-screen. "Even we prairie dogs are hard-pressed to call upon these tremendous beasts. They are difficult to control, and-"

Before he could finish his speech, the six heads of the Parcehydra unleashed a tremendous roar. Massive, brown clouds reeking of alcohol spewed forth from their massive jaws, wafting down like gaseous death upon a nearby bar. Within moments, as the whiskey-like cloud settled around the tavern, people began to flee out, choking and vomitting on the alcoholic fumes.

What followed was a scene of utter chaos as people fled from the toxic cloud, only to scream and turn in terror from the mob of prairie dogs and the massive beast they gathered around. Such chaos was short-lived, however, as the luckier of the people were quickly mobbed and arrested by the prairie dogs. The unluckier, however, met a terrifyingly grisly end as the six heads of the Parcehydra swooped down like birds of prey, their jaws wide open and hungry...

Before anything truly horrific could be seen, but not before the violent screams of the people as they were devoured whole, the screen shifted back to Parcelan, smiling his fake smile.

"Unfortunate, but have no fear," he said, "for the Parcehydra is well-trained. He will strike back at the unlawful citizens as only he can. For those of you have obeyed the law, sleep well tonight. For those of you that have not...well, do not fear. Your drain on this fair society will soon end."

With that, the screen faded back to an ominous black, the last thing seen being Parcelan's own smile, disturbingly reminiscent of the Parcehydra's toothy jaws.

"Thank you...and goodnight."

Her bare hands reach down to the bottom of her t-shirt. The white fingers curled around black fabric and began to pull, her body writhing a little as she pulled the shirt up and over her head. The sweater underneath, a fuzzy dark purple thing, adhered tightly to her body. She looked at it, pondering; the thing would likely have to be ripped, if she wanted to have any clothes on afterwards at all. She threw the bundle of t-shirt onto the table, and began tearing at the long sleeves of the shirt, pulling strips of fabric off in long ribbns.

"For one thing," she said, tearing as she spoke, "when actual fighting comes, be careful not to touch me. Not with bare skin." She tossed the remains of one sleeve into the pile of cloth and began working on the other. "Remember what I said about how I can... get to this point of pain where my touch is draining?" Another loud rip, and the sleeve is gone, placed in the pile. She eyed it, pondering. "I've never really had the inclination or ability to fight, like this, before. This is all a big experiment, for me. But I figure if I can get to that point, well... all I'd need to do is touch to bring harm."

"Which... brings me to a request." She busied herself gathering up the pile of assorted cloth, ripped or otherwise, before turning, a little hesitant, to Ocy. "Do you have anywhere where I could get a little alone time? Somewhere where... er, where you wouldn't mind if it got bloody?"

(just saw Parce's post as I posted at the same time; not watching TV, no bearing on my own )

[ 03-04-2004: Message edited by: Nicole ]

Reaching the fourth on the left, he entered to the slight creeking of the door. Closing the door behind him, Caid slipped of his ratty shoes, kicking them aside.

After a good washing, a long over-do washing, Caid modified his old pants slightly. Hanging just below the knees, and ripped off, they felt much better. Caid continued to generally clean himself up for the next hour. He would be ready to do what he had to do.

"Um, guys," he began. "You might wanna take a look at this." He turned up the volume as several gathered.

As they watched with horror the scene unfold on the small TV in the corner of the bar, Karnaj became more and more livid. Finally, he slammed his fist down the bar and yelled, "Motherfucker!" as the broadcast went off the air.

He stalked up and down the bar, back and forth, pacing like a caged tiger. "This little shit wants to play hardball, eh?" he shouted, his voice rising in fury, and drowning out the TV. "Wants to crack down? Test our resolve? Fine. Let's show this asshole we mean business."

He started getting himself ready, pulling on his leather jacket, adjusting his clothes, checking his pockets. "Azrael, you've got to get out of the city right fucking now. I hope you know someone who owns a Howitzer, because that's about the only thing that can take down that monstrosity, short of, say a full-grown dragon."

"Ocy, you better get your stuff together, because a shitstorm's on the way. I don't know when it's coming, but it'll be here sooner than we like, I'd bet." He reached behind the bar and picked up a bottle of brandy and an old rag, and stuffed them into his rucksack. Pausing only a moment to speak in a somewhat calmer tone, he pulled from his jacket a key and said, "Corner of Exeter and 14th. Apartment 4C. Have an escape route planned...in case things go south. The bar's not worth anyone's life." Laying the key on the bar, he continued his tirade.

"Zexus, get ready. We're going to set half this fucking city on fire if we have to. I hope you're ready to use that magic of yours, because it's not going to be easy going out there tonight. Anything you can offer me, I'll be glad to take."

He stopped at the edge of the doorway. The deepening night loomed large outside. "48 hours, everyone. We all have two days to do what we need to do. After that, whoever's left meets in the old subway station on West Runberg and 7th, and we head towards the (_|_) line." He turned for a minute. "Look, for what it's worth, even though we've mostly only known each other for a few hours, really, I feel...well, don't get yourselves killed, alright? Good luck.

"Let's go, Zexus. We've got a lot of ground to cover."

"That's it then, I have to leave now. With Drakana's Jeep, I can be back within the space of two days. Gucomia isn't that far off. I'll bring every able-bodied man and woman I can, but be warned that it may come down to a battle to the death with that thing, just me and it. If that's the case...you'll never see me again. I think it's high time you guys got out of this bar as well, they know this is where we're gathered. Start the sabotage immediately, stay away from the Parcehydra...should be easy enough with the shaking from its footsteps...and if all else fails, retreat to the tunnels. I'll be back as swiftly as I can," he explained in a hurry, buttoning up his coat as he hurried out the door.

As he got out the door, he swiftly darted down a side alleyway, and weaved his way towards Blue Rose Lane. Nedra would be working there, and since he didn't see Drakana's jeep, she would probably be already there waiting for him with Hillodania. As he was about to cross Wolfsbane Blvd, a prairie dog spotted him. The hatred and recognition in the rodent's eyes were clear enough that his name had gotten put down on the wanted list. He lifted his right arm up and steadied it, then pressed the three buttons on the metal bracer. Two prongs shot out from the front of the band, and adhered themselves to the prairie dog's furry chest. The 'dog's alarm cry was cut short as it stared at the hooks in confusion. Its puzzlement didn't last long as electricity shot through its small body and it sank twitching to the ground.

Reeling the line back in as he ran with a push of the 2nd button, the ease of dispatching the sentry brought a smirk to Azrael's face as he got closer to his goal. "Still works like a charm...hope none are watching Nedra's place though," he thought to himself, picking up the pace. Sure enough, the street in front of the Eternal Blossom brothel was clear except for a few departing johns. Trying to look inconspicuous, he pulled his collar up and walked slowly into the building in an attempt to look like a customer. The Blossom hadn't lost much of its splendor since Nedra had taken over, in fact, the high elf had kept the place running at full capacity. Paintings still covered the wall, and fresh flowers were placed in vases on stands in the entrance hall. And standing behind a counter was the mistress herself.

She was apparently counting bills from a recent payment, but no sooner had he taken one step when she looked up and her violet eyes glittered like two stars. "Azrael!" she squealed, and all but jumped over the counter in a rush to embrace him. His breath being squeezed from his lungs from the ferocity of her hug, he managed to gasp out, "Ugh...Nedra, I'm engaged, remember? It hasn't been that long..." She shook her head slowly back and forth as she rubbed her cheeks against his chest and murmured, "That doesn't mean I can't still love you, right?" Still, she eased her grip, and Azrael thought sarcastically, "If this was an old detective film, this would be where the saxaphone would cut in."

Right away, her empathic ability cut in, reading his anxiety not just in his posture and tenseness, but from the stress apparent in his mind. "There's something wrong, isn't there? You came to get me," she said, more of a statement rather than a question. "Have you been watching the TV?" he asked, but she shook her head, smoothing out the long blue dress she was wearing. Sighing, he looked at his watch then at the door, and told her, "It's time to go, we have to get out now. Parcelan is starting a crackdown, and this time, there's people who are willing to stand up to him. But they can't do it alone. We need to go get your sister and the others, and bring them back as soon as we can. Drakana is waiting outside, can you leave now?"

Without saying a word, she nodded, and went back behind the counter. Pulling out a suitcase, she gestured to a nearby girl to take the hostess position, and went to join him. He didn't even have to pull on her arm as she followed him out swiftly. He noticed that she wasn't wearing high heels as usual, she must've somehow predicted something like this would happen. As they exited the revolving glass door, however, the sound of gunfire greeted them. Drakana and Hillodania stood by the military jeep with a half dozen dead prairie dogs and one brute bleeding to death on the pavement. The dark elf waved to them and shouted, "Get in, they're stepping up the patrols! If we're not careful, we won't make it out the east gate!"

Needing no further explanation, the two of them climbed into the car, and the two elven women hopped in, the former shadow knight putting it into gear and speeding away. They tried to take side streets as often as possible, but every so often they had to run over or shoot prairie dog sentries and patrols on the way. Nearing the gate, they saw that a barrier had been erected, and two full squads were waiting.

"This is the least guarded gate?" Hillodania shouted to be heard over the roar of the engine. "It should've been, and it might still be! Go full speed and try to break through, I'll see if I can't shatter the barrier beforehand!" Azrael yelled back, and unsnapped the band holding his sword in. As the jeep barreled down on the barrier, the prarie dogs shifted back and forth, uneasy at the courage of the people bearing down on them. Giving the wheel to Hillodania, Drakana reached under the seat to pull out a AR-39, and started firing, aiming first at the brutes.

As Azrael's hand closed around the hilt of the sword, a familiar blue glow surrounded the blade. Grinning as he felt the power flowing through him, he tapped the amulet hidden under his shirt as he felt it too come to life. Using the sword as a focus, he gathered the growing spirit energy into the tip of the blade. Holding it level, a green spark formed at the tip, becoming brighter and brighter as more power was fed into it. The prarie dogs were trying to flee by now, but Drakana still gunned them down, and surprisingly, Nedra had pulled a 9mm and was firing at them too. The path now clear, Azrael released the blast, and the ball of energy streaked towards the barrier and shattered it to pieces, spraying shrapnel everywhere. He and Drakana pulled back inside the vehicle as they sped across the bridge, towards the eastern estates...and Gucomia.

Nicole punched the table, hard, hard enough to bruise. Hold it there, hold it, you're going to need it. She felt it coming on to her, bearing down; her vision was fuzzy from where she stood but she still knew the look and recognized the sounds of people dying. She could feel it on her shoulders, she could feel it in her bones, waiting like a warm jacket for her to slip into.

She turned to Ocy. Her look was hard; she could feel turbulence beneath her skin. "Give me ten minutes. Ten minutes. And then... you won't be able to touch me." she said, her eyes fluctuating between dull and gleaming, before she walked off.

It didn't matter the room, it was here, beside her, inside her. She could feel it coming on like the realization that all your bad predictions came true, and when she opened the door to the little room, she didn't even see the end of the bed she sat on, or the corner she threw her clothes into. She began tearing at the bottom of her shirt with a fury as she waited for the tears to come.

They would. They would. She focused. The broadcast sounds of screaming, like the distance and the machinery of the television made it come from someplace far away. The bottom of the fuzzy sweater was torn, as was the back, leaving a fuzzy strip of fabric tied around her neck and back, bare skin. She directed fury to her legs, the velvet. The ripping made a noise like a bone-crunch, hold it, hold it, you're going to need every drop of the pain.

She left her boots on. More than that, she didn't notice, because by then she could feel the physical manifestation, the aching, a dull heat inside her veins, her bones, a darkness that sparks poetry and choked her throat up with words. And it was like the little light in the room came from far away as she began to hurt herself, like it passed years and miles to filter through the window, on her smooth white arms as she began to drag her nails over it. There. There. Hold the darkness in. That hurt, that pain, that void. Make it permanent. You're going to use it later. You're going to fill it, so make it last.

She would have to hurt herself. She would have to make herself want, need to die, but it was like all your bad predictions came true and she found it hideously easy to want it. It would make her reckless but it didn't matter; it was a want, it was a need, a requirement. A gloom began to gather, a haze like smoke as she turned from one arm to the other, ragged fingernails leaving at first raised tracks, then flakes of torn skin, then the few welled-up bloody results. It was a need. It was a requirement. Hold it in, make the hurt a part of yourself.

Ten minutes. It was less than three before she began to cry.

"Do not mistake my gifts for magic," Zexus spoke finally, after Karnaj turned to speak to him directly. "Magic is different; it enhances, reduces, brings change of all manner, but it does so in measures. Such is not the way of older powers. Perhaps a demonstration will prove more effective. Come." He walked over to where Ocy's enchanted glass had fallen, and picked it up. As he focused his gaze upon it, the glass split perfectly in half, then into quarters. When he returned his gaze to Karnaj, he let three of the fragments drop. Each hit the floor with a clink, and did not shatter.

He placed the fourth fragment in Karnaj's hand. "Now we must prepare. We need not choose a place to wreak havoc. That decision has been made. But just as before, in order to succeed, we must keep to strategy. You are the lure, the target which all will confront. Though the power is mine, you must learn to forget that fact, to make the power your own, and move as if your own hands wield it. Take that fragment in your hand, and crush it. Do not wonder if it will break. Do not believe it will break. You must know it will break. While the others prepare in their own ways, you must learn to fight as if fighting nothing."

He crept down to the kitchen put on some pots and pans for armour doused himself in pinesol and grabed a turkey baster full of witch hazel.

Runing as fast as his legs could carry him he darted underneath the Parcehydra and jabed it in its anus and injected the witch hazel. At first nothing happened but soon the Parcehydra began to shrink and shrink til it was no bigger than a small mouse.

Somthor stomped the mouse a few times looked to make sure it was dead than ran like hell for the hills.

Caid now wore only his torn knee length pants, and a bandana wrapped around his head. He had shaved also, his ragged beard now a neatly trimmed goatee. His head was now shaved as well, save a top knot near the back of his head. Now not wearing a shirt, many, many tattoos were visible on his torso, and running down each arm. Two notible tattoos were visible on each of his temples, some sort of oriental writing.

Caid had taped his wrists as well, rather tightly it seemed, and he unconsiously clenched and unclenched his fists at all times.

He only nodded as the others prepared, and left. He began pacing around the common room, and didn't appear ready to sit still anytime soon.

(Uhhhh....I'm going to assume we're ignoring Somthors post...?)

[ 03-04-2004: Message edited by: Caid '5 Fists' Berrit ]

ooc:
It's official. Ignore the plot-killing godmode post Somthor made... and his others as well, since they don't reflect on anything that's happening.

Or, alternatively, in his delusion of grandeur and/or drunken stupor, Somthor's character ran under the hydra, squirted a turkey baster at it, tried to step on a mouse, then promptly got squashed by the parcehydra. Sadly, we cannot describe this gruesome death in character, because none of us are there yet.

[ 03-04-2004: Message edited by: `Doc ]

Karnaj didn't get it. Ocy had made the glass pretty much shatterproof. Zexus had quartered it, and...now he was supposed to be able to break it? How? He was just a man, and not much of one at that. He supposed he could just claim incapability to...to know that this thing would break, but then again, how did he know it wouldn't break? Suppose that, just for an instant, that not knowing for sure that it wouldn't break would be enough? The two negations cancelled out, and it would therefore break. Such was his reasoning, and, against all odds, it worked.

Thusly, he was honestly not suprised when the glass yieled when he squeezed his hand. He felt it break, and when he opened his hand, a fine powder was all that remained. He looked up at Zexus.

"Alright," Karnaj said after a moment. "You've got my undivided attention now."

"... Exeter and 14th. Apartment 4C. Have an escape route planned...in case things go south. The bar's not worth anyone's life." He said.

She nodded wordlessly before turning her attention to Rena, Mikah and Jaren - all of whom were staring at the now blank screen in sheer horror. She murmured a curse beneath her breath and went to them, looking them all over hard.

"You three..." She started.

"Ma... What's going on?" Rena said. Ocy shook her head.

"We're in for a rough few nights... I want you and Mikah to lock yourselves in the back room. Jaren, you go with them and protect them with your life." She said sternly.

"What?" Rena said incredulously - Ocy didn't meet her eyes.

"Just do as I say." She growled.

"... No." Mikah said - Ocy lifted her head to look at him. He rarely ever spoke.

"You really expect us to hide in a room while you're out here fighting? I can't speak for these two... but I can't do that. I refuse to. I want to fight with you -" He said. Ocy cut him off.

"No! Do you realize the danger we're facing here? How one wrong move could mean your death?!" She shouted, "I can deal with death... I've faced it countless times before. But I wouldn't be able to hold up if something happened to one of you."

"And what do you think would happen to us if you died, ma?" Mikah said softly.

Ocy sighed and rubbed her temples.

"There's no time for this... Do you three really want to help?" She muttered, voice low.

All three nodded in unison.

"Then get your arses up to the arms room and get equipped. And from now on, you follow my goddamned orders, are we clear? Follow them precisely. Like I said - one wrong move can screw things up completely." She growled.

Nodding in unison again, all three headed for the stairs. Sighing, Ocy slumped into a seat and set her head on the table.

When it is over Vise lets out a low wistle. " You have go to hand it to him. He knows his stuff. Any form of open rebellion is going to meet a sad end against one of those things. Forunate for us they only will be able to deal with open rebellion. If we happen to get caught by one of those things. then we deserve our fate.

As for Parce, his current spread of propaganda must be dealt with. Clearly we need someone to show Parce's true color's, his hate and abuse of power. Someone who can drive him to the brink of unquenchable rage, and I think I know who can help us. Vise quickly looks at a brief piece of paper in his pocket only to quickly stuff it back in. Only allowing for Morbid enough time to make out a letter G on the note.

"Fare thee well, EverCrest City," he said to no one in particular as his chaffuer drove them out of the city. "We'll meet again someday." He looked towards his driver. "All has been set into motion?"

"The majority of the prairie dogs are leaving right now," the chaffeur replied. "There are a few stubborn brutes and drunkards lingering behind. For the most part, though, we've completely evacuated." He cast a glance back to the leader prairie dog. "What of the hydra, though? We invested quite a bit in bringing that beast here."

"And he'll serve his purpose well," Parcelan said, taking a sip of bourbon. "He'll crush most of the resistance himself before going out with a bang. And that will be one more thing for the people of EverCrest to fear when we return."

"If you say so," the chaffeur said, pushing his little paw to the gas pedal.

And with that, the expensive car drove out of the city and into the night, leaving a legacy of oppression and gluttony behind in the form of a monstrous beast.

Tonight, the resolve of the people of EverCrest would be put to the test.

And that will end my involvement in this thread. Kudos to all of you on making the ressurection of RP a success.

Have fun dealing with the hydra.

With a shrug, he went on. Somehow the dagger had found its way back into his hand. "Besides, he's tipped his hand now. Still, it's better avoided."

"As for the other matter.. that has potential." MorbId muttered, glancing sideways at Vise. "Seeing Parcelan lose it completely would be worth seeing, too. From a distance. Finding ..such a person will be the trick. I would think he's dead or deep in hiding by now."

[ 03-04-2004: Message edited by: MorbId ]

She was ready. "I'm ready." She balled her fingers into fists and let them go, smearing the lattice of blood into welled smears, bearing her fingerprints. "I'm sorry, Ocy, I kinda... got blood on your sheets. Sorry." She focused her gaze through the door, as if she expected the many heads of the Parcehydra to twist through it, jaws open, screeching and devouring. Her arms hurt, her fingers hurt, and she flexed and balled them, over and over, feeling the pain flare into little suns and die. Wondering if, if those many heads were to twist through, if she would bear any expression at all.

ooc:
Taking a bit of Karnaj's part, to keep things moving along.

Settling into a chair, Zexus continued without hesitation. "Wielding an elder power will not make you invulnerable. In fact, quite often the opposite is true. If you do not understand it, the power itself can tear you apart. That is why you must not hesitate. You must move with the knowledge that your movements are absolute." Without even touching it, the table where Zexus sat tilted, then flipped onto its side. "I want you to strike this table."

"You seem pretty keen on destroying things," Karnaj observed.

Zexus smirked again, "Observant. I hope you're as confident in action as you are in words. Strike the table."

With a nod, Karnaj lunged at the table, throwing his fist ahead of him. To his surprise, the table dodged out of his way, and he stumbled forward.

"Good, for a first try. But you're hesitating. Try again."

Again Karnaj lunged, and a again the table avoided him. For several moments the dance continued, each punch and kick falling just short or just wide. Several nearby tables, which lacked a hand in the dance, were flung recklessly aside. With each failure, Zexus followed with scolding words, and even the occasional taunt. Finally, in an act hardly short of desperation, Karnaj lunged fully at the table. Though it again dodged his fist, he brought his other hand around, grappled a leg, and in one swift motion, brought the table hard against the floor, shattering it. "There, it's broken. Are you happy now?" Karnaj growled, fighting to regain his composure.

"Before anyone can harness power, they must first accept that their natural limits no longer apply. This holds true for magic, but even moreso for elder powers. To truely wield power, you have to let it all go. Fear, doubt, and disbelief." Zexus grinned, as he realized he had found a use for the often-senseless words spouted from the glass-fronted radios. He decided to finish the reference, and added, "Free your mind."

Nicole descended the stairs, sitting in a chair beside an overturned table as if it had always been that way. Zexus turned, looked her over briefly, then returned his gaze to Karnaj. "It's time to go. We have a long night ahead. And Ocy," he turned to the bartender, "if anyone else wants to come, see that they're prepared to ride. Subtlety has its place, but we cannot afford to lose any more time."

"I take it we're going via some locomotion other than our two feet, yes? Well, regardless, our first stop should be the power substation which supplies the juice for the industrial district. If we shut that down, the factories will draw power from the rest of the grid to stay running, and the whole grid will overload and shut down. Come on, let's get out of the street. I haven't seen any 'dogs out here, but I imagine patrols will be out in force soon." They headed into the same alley Karnaj had visited earlier in the evening, and Karnaj continued.

"OK, since we're not bothering with mana nodes, we're going to head straight into the heart of the prairie district. You know, that shanty town the 'dogs set up so they have a place to be hungover. That's going up in smoke. If we make it back from that, we'll start on the water mains. That should create enough havoc."

Karnaj folded his arms expectantly. "Alright, so you said that we're riding. What, precisely, are we going to be riding? I'm not so good on a motorcycle, you know."

Tenatively, Karnaj clambored on behind Zexus, mindful of the drake's wings. Not even worrying if he would fall off, he felt entirely stable on top the the mighty creature. It was then, though, that he felt the ground rumble beneath him.

"It must be the Parcehydra," Karnaj whispered, although he didn't know why. Given the faintness of the rumbling, it could me many miles distant still. "We'd best be off. The power station is to the southwest of here, surrounded by factories, and, it's...well, I'll know it when I see it."

"We need to fly low!" Zexus shouted over the roaring wind, and patted the creature's shoulder. The creature nozed down, and dove.

"It's the prairie dogs!" He slapped Zexus' shoulder. "They're pulling out! They must want to let the Parcehydra do all the dirty work for them!"

"What do we do now?" Zexus asked, deftly guiding the wyvern between buildings.

"Stick with the plan!" Karnaj shouted. "Stay one step ahead of them! They're going to want to catch us, so they'll still have to be enough 'dogs and brutes in the city to do a systematic search, and still guard vital places!" He pointed over Zexus' shoulder. "There it is, that bunker with the transformers all around it! Land on the roof!"