Octavian grunts as the sword slices open his skin again but manages to not stagger from the pain. Turning slightly to shield his casting from the guard the wizard cast another defensive spell on himself and a disc of energy appeared on his forearm.
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Octavian stepped out from the passage and threw a telekinetic blast at the first guard, the wave of energy causing a ripple in the air as it flew from the wizard's hands.
Octavian stopped as the group recovered from his hammer and a look of embarrassment crossed his face. "I'm sorry I didn't know. Let's take a few minutes to get everyone sorted before we risk our lives again. Could you watch our backs Jasmine?" he asked before moving over to Pazeek. The wizard smiled at the tengu while placing a hand on his shoulder. "Can you hear me Pazeek? We are..." he trailed off when he saw the Tengu staring at his lips in confusion. Octavian sighed and motioned with his other hand that they were going to wait.
The wizard straightened after the hammer calmed and opened his eyes. He looked at the surrendered rebels and spun the hammer once in his hand. "Those were the souls of Megara waking up. The shard of Vulcan that WE recovered from the destroyed city safeguarded them from enslavement and now they once again live to protect their people." he pointed the hammer at Jasmine. "This...filth as you like to call it, she is the one who carried the shard and placed it in my hands. No scheming, no reward asked for, just a simple gift. This ELF and this HALF ORC are responsible for a shard being returned to our people." Octavian stopped the lecturing and stepped through the carnage. He passed his hands over his body to invest himself with an intangible field of protection, investing the spell with a fragment of power to strengthen it. Once that was done he motioned ahead. "Turn left up ahead, I remember the way to the inner sanctum." He looked over at the rebels who had 'changed' sides. "The secret path. Now Jasmine and Pazeek, if you would be so kind as to scout ahead so that we don't stumble into another fight like that unprepared, I would be grateful."
"I am your Prince and what I do is for the good of our people. These men and women are traitors and we are at war. If you would see the bloodshed minimized open the way for us that we may cut the head off the snake. Only an act of Power will convince these wayward souls that Elaran is a parasite that will suck this culture dry." Octavian said quietly, his eyes closed and his attention focused on the hammer. "You see what is coming for all non-humans. We must band together or die apart."
The wizard staggered as the hammer flared with life, the muscles in his arms forearms standing out as his grip locked around the haft involuntarily. "St...ssssssst.....sssssssstop!!!" Octavian screamed finally, fighting off the overpowering influence of the hammer. "Look into my memories, see what these bretayer's have wrought! How they are the ones who have despoiled this temple, not I! That they are the ones who drew first blood by slaughtering the priests who resisted Elaran's rule!"
Octavian's eyes flared as the soldier in front of him mentioned his dead wife. He says nothing as Pazeek executes the defiant ones and doesn't blink when blood spatters his clothing, his eyes locked on the eyes of the kneeling soldier. He motions for anyone nearby to come close with the instructions of "Hold him." Once that soldier was immobile Octavian hefted his hammer overhead with a savage scream and brought it crashing down on the bastard's head, aiming squarly for the center of his eyes for the express purpose of caving in the soldier's face and skull.
Octavian came bast the happily burning barricade like a wraith, the smoke parting as he stopped through the opening. Bloodied and illuminated by the fire behind him the wizard stared at the kneeling soldier's without emotion. "By all rights I have the legal authority to pass summary execution on all of you. New Alexandra is on wartime footings, under attack and you follow a madman who would see his own people burn just for power. Not to mention that attacking a Prince of the realm is justification for drawing and quartering." He came before the closest kneeling soldier. "I give you this one last chance. Swear fealty to the Empress who is currently on the wall, organizing the defense of our people or honor the Betrayer who murders and enslaves his own people and be treated as criminals." He held out his left hand which held a new golden signet ring marked with the emblem of the royal family. "Show me your loyalty."
Octavian took several deep breaths to calm the raging emotions within him. Blood seeped from the wounds inflicted by the javelins and it took all of his training to strengthen his mind to keep himself from fainting from the pain. He looked down at his shaking hands and forced himself to remember why he was fighting. Not for rage, not for revenge. Was he some petty berserker fighting over land? Over a woman? His heartbeat stilled, the wizard clenched his fist and gathered raw energy around it. Fire gathered into a point that crackled with fire and lightning as he invested a fragment of of his soul into the spell. Once the spell was complete he stepped around the wall and threw the spell. The three inch orb of energy sped over Tsakua's head and slammed into the wall before detonating.
Octavian takes a deep breath before poking his head around the corner of his wall and pointing a finger at one of the soldier's attacking Tsakua. A whispered incantation led to a beam of red energy shooting out from his finger.
Once the spell was launched he ducked behind the wall to prevent any more attacks from ending him.
As if fate was laughing at him a fireball was the answer to his own attack and he was staggered by the heat. Even though his own resistance helped to mitigate a little of the damage, as the smoke cleared there were several patches of raw and bleeding skin. A moment later two javelins slammed into the wizard and he staggered back a step. Before anymore more attacks could end his life he reached down and swept his hand across the ground while encanting. His hand left a trail of green light that pulled the stone up like gelatin and formed a 10 foot high wall that was fifteen feet across, creating a stone barricade a foot thick between him and the enemies.
Octavian's eyes locked on the soldier's lined up in front of him with the mages behind. Fiery energy swirled around his hand as a short incantation flowed from his lips. As he raised his arm the energy coalesced into a tiny red bead that hovered a hair's breadth from his fingertip. He focused a fragment of his own soul and the bead swelled to the size of a 4 inch sphere, glowing white-hot. "You have made your choice." With a flick of his will the fireball sped away from his finger and over the line of soldiers. When it was over the line of archers the orb detonated with a thunderous explosion, a wave of white fire washing over all of the defenders before splashing off the wall. The wave of fire shot out of the entryway and stopped only a few feet in front of the wizard, blowing his hair back. Once the spell was away the wizard stepped to the side to make way for the melee to move forward.
"No." Octavian said quietly while stepping over the dead guard. The forming spell in his hand died as he unlimbered his hammer and stepped up to the door. He cast a spell on himself that took hold and caused his muscles to swell. "They have broken faith by barring these doors to the citizens. I am not going to skulk through a window." He spits in his hands before taking the hammer in a two handed grip and swinging it back and forth, gaining momentum. He gritted his teeth as his own fury grew as he literally spat the next words out."Elaran has betrayed his people and betrayed his faith. These doors will not protect him. They...will...OPEN!" he finally roared. The hammer swung sideways as the wizard put all of his rage, faith and the love for his people in the strike.
With his own tabard of the Royal House Lucarin recently obtained from the estates on his way up here, Octavian strode like the newly minted prince he had become. Everyone else in the party would also be handed an armband with the symbol of Octavian's house on it. Octavian stopped just short of a bowshot from the guards and anyone close to him could see veins pop out in his neck as his eyes scanned the dead priests. "Blasphemous! You have spilled blood on temple grounds while your people die in droves all so your leader can gain power! He would sacrifice us all so that he could be the king of the corpse pile!" the wizard screamed. He wasn't trying to convince the guards of anything, he wasn't trying to scare them into line. The priests of the Illidari had a responsibility to care for the souls and spiritual welfare of the species and the atrocities committed by Elaran deeply angered him. Eyes flaring with power the wizard's hand began to crackle with electricity without an enchanted spell, so great was his fury. In a few moments he would sign the death of the guards blocking their way if nothing stopped him.
Octavian went down the tower to the ground where the soldiers and civilians were panicking at the appearance of the creatures. His attention however was focused elsewhere and he grabbed the nearest soldier and hauled the illidari around. Putting his face close to the soldier's he screamed to be overheard the screaming sand creatures. "Assemble a squad and search out my companions! Search out the recent champions of the Arena Inja and Tsakua! They should be in the area of the Arena along with a female gnome. Check the Dancer's District for a female elf bearing an unbound bow and holding a mark of House Lucarin. Send a runner to the Tengu Tower and seek out Pazeek Splitbeak, he was meeting with the Elders today. Each of the people I seek bears a House Lucarin badge. Assemble them at the temple." Once his orders were being carried out Octavian would turn to his mother. "For now simply hold the creatures off. This attack is entirely too coincidental and designed to pull the military out of the city so that there will be no one to prevent an attack on the noble families. Send a message to our estate and have them seal off the grounds. Send the messages to everyone you think will be loyal and have them do the same thing. If Elaran is using this event to secure his power, I will use the same event to deal with him once and for all. While my companions are dealing with him I will need you to use your authority as the eldest descendant of the Imperial blood to hold back the commoners who have been blinded by Elaran's false promises. I am going to purge the Temple of false prophets." he explained quickly. An image flashed through Octavian's mind as he planned the attack on the Temple and his mind flinched at what he was seeing. The root of corruption was in the temple and only there was the kind of power the city needed to fight these creatures. The Hall of Purity and the First Anvil were all simply channels for the power resting inside the walls. If the priests were unwilling to unleash that strength to protect the city then the wizard would rip open the doors and do it himself. "I will be going to call for priests to aid the army in this fight. Any who refuse will be branded traitors and summarily executed. Oh and draw up a document with your seal as the new Empress as I'll be acting as an Imperial agent under direct orders from you. A little sooner than we planned but as the humans say, fortune favors the bold."
Octavian would duck his head as he entered the room to dodge a discharge of energy from the focusing crystal. As he moved into position he slipped his magical hammer Sharur into his hand. The braided leather felt natural and the heavy weapon moved with grace as he felt something connect with the enchanted metal. Taking the weapon in a two handed grip the wizard pointed his bonded item at the crystal and focused his will through the adamantium and mithril. As he sank his mind into the etherium of the material plane he channeled his raw strength into the connection, grasping the wildly fluctuating weave and calming them.
As the weave bucked in his grasp he felt something react to his connection and light exploded across the room, jarring him to his bones and threatening to break his connection.
After the group went their own directions octavian had gone down to the Arena to place his bets. A solid 10,000 gold on Tsakua and any others that would fight with him. He would speak with Bree and ask that she stay at the arena in the Lucarin box and keep an eye on their champion. Afterwards he would take the mighty horse Acteon out with a small contingent of House Lucarin guards and travel in the direction where he could see all of the activity happening. As he came close to the Ward Tower he would nudge onlookers out of his way with Acteon, making sure that the Lucarin crest on the saddle was easily seen. Once at the base of the tower Octavian would push past any protestations from soldier's or mages and make his way next to his mother. He looked up at the energy lashing out from the tower and asked what was most likely on everyone's mind. "What the feth is going on?"
"And I am?" Octavian asked bluntly with an arched eyebrow. "I issue orders without consideration for how people may perceive them and yet still expect people to obey. Am I popular? No, but still there are other ways to garner respect and loyalty." he motioned to the hammer on the table. "With that simple tool I'll wager I could walk into the temple right now and confront Elaran and not a single priest would stand in my way despite his command. If I didn't want to make him a martyr I would be cleaning his blood from my hammer right now. Words are only one political weapon." The wizard looked over the diminutive Bree as she asked her questions. He pursed his lips in thought for a moment before answering. "Well we don't know what's going to happen down at the arena today. If Tsakua and Inja succeed in angering Elaran enough to arrive with his own champion things may get out of hand quickly. Your spells may become necessary. You'll be up in the stands with me."
"Well perhaps it's time that the Tengu appoint a new warlord for a while. They have their own stake in the Illidari culture as the only race that has befriended my people on this world. Ever. Under Elaran that will end and he will purge all non-illidari from the our lands. Thousands of years of friendship destroyed over one despot. Are they going to let the Illidari make the same mistakes as the humans? Sometimes even best friends must take the harsh actions. I believe the humans call it tough love." Octavian said with a genuine smile at the Tengu. The stalwart wizard rarely smiled but he genuinely liked the rakish birdfolk and his philandering ways. "As citizens of this city you have every right to demand a leader who will work with the Tengu."
"Tsakua, Inja and I will go down to the arena and try to provoke Elaran into showing his face with his own champion. I've no doubt that whomever he brings will be little difficulty for our champions. Ten thousand gold bet on them should get his attention." Octavian would say with a wide grin. He looks over at Pazeek and cocks his head in thought. "You are the only Proven among your people in who knows how long. When is the last time they followed a King?"
"The fire has already been ignited mother. We are just waiting for the flames to consume us." Octavian would respond quietly. "Elaran has all but declared war on the council and the corruption that has resulted from the chaos allows slavery to exist in our city. Something that was banished three thousand years ago. Call Captain Gaius and enlist his aid. While you are trying to remain loyal to the council Elaran is gathering followers by the hour. Gaius is loyal and I'd wager most of the council would back the enthronement of a ruler of actual royal blood and not a power hungry tyrant who uses our god as a weapon against his own people. Gain Gaius's loyalty and a good part of the army will follow. You yourself wield significant authority within the Arcanix as leader of the Battlemages. Speak to the Hidden Triumvirate, make them see that this is the most logical path to our survival and freedom. Do they think that Elaran will allow them the independence they have enjoyed for so long? Gain enough support and we can arrest Elaran and his chief supporters and try them as Traitors in Wartime. The punishment for that is summary execution and then soul binding. No one would dare question your authority if you had the support of the council, the Arcanix and the Military. Even the clergy would have to respect your power, especially when your son wields this." He unhooked the hammer from his belt and thumped it down on the table. The marking of Vulcan was clearly seen etched into the hard metal, his own wizard's mark sitting just above. "This is not blasphemy. I passed through the Fire and forged metal and soul on the First Anvil and this was the result. The entire clergy was there to witness and support me in my endeavors and while I'm no man of the cloth they will listen to me. To ignore the creation of a holy artifact is the true blasphemy."
Octavian was silent for a moment as he figured out the best way to answer Qahnaarin's question. The Illidari didn't go to extraordinary lengths to hide their history from outsiders but they didn't like to advertise their arrival on this planet. That event had happened long enough ago that records from those times were extremely rare and often incorrect. However these people...no, his trusted companions. He took a drink of water from the chalice in front of him before leaning back in his chair. "What I'm about to tell you I would appreciate that you don't go blabbing to everyone you meet. It's about our ancient history on this world and we don't want it to become common knowledge. Over seven thousand years ago we were forced to flee a fiery death on our home world as our sun became blood red and grew to enormous sizes. That exodus brought us here, to the Brisal Desert. Our magics wrought a home for us in this desolate land and our last emperor built a new society from the ashes of our previous lives. When he died his family relinquished power to the senate so that the voices of the non noble houses could be heard. That senate has since turned into the council and the emperor's family has become a noble house with a long history of public service in all aspects of Illidari society." Octavian paused here before looking back at his mother. "With a strong leader who can command all of the forces at our disposal we might have a chance. Only a single leader can reach out to the other races in the lands to form an alliance that would have enough strength of arms and magic to meet the humans on equal footing. The shard showed us the way forward and that is only through a union of all of the races." He pointed at Pazeek. "If we did it once why can't we do it again? Our meeting and freindship with the Tengu brought us ideas and knowledge we might have never achieved on our own. The orcs have knowledge of the movement of the local star constellations that might predate our own by millenia. The dwarves knowledge of the earth beneath us will die with them if we do nothing. Thousands of years of culture from societies so much older then the humans will be ground to dust if we rely on a fractured council." Finally he gave voice to the thought that his logic had created. "You must become Empress mother. Or everything Emperor Constantine built will be ash. And only an Empress can order the church to find grandfather."
Octavian woke that morning as the sun's first rays touched his face and a faint ocean breeze ghosted across his skin. The wizard smiled with genuine joy as he turned onto his back and stretched out his achy muscles. He opened his eyes and looked at the weapons stand next to his bed, looking at the magnificent weapon that tickled his sense everytime he tried to delve deeper into it's mysteries. The markings on the weapon glimmered in the early sun light and the metal shimmered with blue and purple highlights. He could feel the hammer at the back of his mind, could feel the deep and intimate link he shared with the artifact. A part of him had gone into the weapon while he poured all of his magic into it and now shared a bond far deeper then a wizard and his or her bonded item. The almost black handle of darkwood soaked up the light as the mithril and adamantine filligree danced with their own magical light. Taking a deep breath Octavian stretched again before pushing the covers off and swinging his legs out. He spent the next few minutes going through several stretches with his body that set his blood flowing and woke him fully. Once that was done he dressed in a toga of black silk accented with a golden belt. The cleaned and restored bracers of power went on next and he could feel the tingle as the protective magic rooted in his skin. Grabbing the hammer the wizard went out onto the deck attached to his room. Silken white curtains shielded the area from the worst of the sun's heat and allowed someone to enjoy the sweet desert winds without the searing heat. Trays of desert flowers hung from the marble railing and filled the area with a heady, sweet scent. There were several chairs around a table and even a reclined divan but Octavian ignored them all and sat down on the pile of cushions surrounded by a screen of potted trees. Ensconced in his small sanctuary the wizard sat down and pulled a book from within his robes and flipped it open. Laying the book in his lap he unhooked the hammer from his belt and focused his magic, surrounding the weapon with a cushion of magic. Energy danced between the hammer and the surrounding field of magic in flashes of light as the magic took hold and slowly lifted the weapon. Octavian stared at the weapon as his will focused and crystallized into an arcane matrix that thrummed with untapped energy. The writing in the book began to glow in response to the magic and lifted an inch from the surface of the paper. For an hour the wizard sat within the cloud of whispered magic as he recharged the spells within his mind and felt the subtle thrum of power through his body. When at last he felt every inch within his mind filled with incantations the wizard relaxed his will, banishing the glow from the book and slowly lowering the hammer to the ground. Storing the book within his robes Octavian stored the hammer on the golden belt and stood up just as the hammering on his door started. Several minutes later found him sitting at the breakfast table after a dutiful kiss on his mother's cheek. He remained silent as the worrisome messages flew around the group and focused on filling his belly before bringing up what had been nagging at the back of his mind since the first day they had arrived. "The only authority that we need is from one person." Octavian said before popping a desert strawberry into his mouth. "The council has failed mother. In times of peace where art and philosophy thrive a council of peers can act as a voice for the people to guide a populace. In times of war there must be a singular point of unquestionable authority who has the absolute loyalty of both the civilians and the military or death is all that awaits them." He looked at her directly and spoke his next words in clearly announced common so everyone could understand. "It is time for the blood of the Emperor to resume the throne."
FYI to everyone your buying power within the city is not restricted by your current wealth. As guests of the Lucarin household and freinds/party members with Octavian you have access to literally anything and everything magical of our level and below. Anything above that falls within the whims of the DM. This has been discussed with and approved by the DM. This spending power remains only so long as we adventure out of New Alexandria. It will be something you either buy from the stalls with Lucarin money, have bought by requesting the Lucarin family directly or by Octavian's crafting.
"Nothing brother, nothing at all." Octavian responds. He gives the warhammer a swing, pleased with the weight and sound of the heavy metal displacing air. He holds the weapon up and a thoughtful expression crosses his face. He concentrates for a moment and spins the hammer in his grip. From one second to the next the hammer twisted on itself. When it stopped moving it had morphed into a planing knife, a common tool used in working with wood. Another twist and it narrowed into a chisel used in crafting stonework. Every alteration changed the shape of the item but the color remained true. A cool blue-black that reflected light in points of light, the starry sky taken and shaped into something physical. When he switched it back to warhammer form the haft could clearly be seen, spiraled darkwood with entwining channels of adamantine and mithril. The diamond that had rested at the crown of his staff now rested on the bottom of the haft as the cap. In weapon form the hammer was a rectangular shape, the impacting sides two flat planes. The head of the weapon was larger than what was normal for a warhammer designed for humanoids. A closer inspection revealed a circle composed of complicated knotwork inscribed on the side of the weapon. Contained within the circle was the image of a jagged mountain with his personal wizard's symbol directly in the center of the circle. "If you would, relocate the metals I brought with me to my wagon. I am tired and plan to retire to my family's estate. May your soul be ever bright brother." Octavian says to the priest. Afterwards he changes into his normal clothing and hangs the hammer on the belt by the simple method of stuffing the hilt through. It was uncomfortable and the wizard made a note to alter the belt properly to hang the weapon from. Soon he was back on the road down the mountain towards his home. Thankfully it was later in the day when he arrived back at his home with just enough time for him to get a bite to eat, bathe and then collapse into bed. He instructed the servants to store the metals back in the workshop set up behind his house. As the sun finally fell behind the mountain he collapsed in bed, still wet from his bath and completely naked. In seconds he was snoring blissfully and a smiling servant pulled the covers up higher before closing the door quietly.
I did it partly to give the party free reign to do whatever they wanted without feeling like my character is a dictator. Now that they are safe he won't be like he was on the trail.
"Times are changing Prelate." Octavian would respond tiredly. Despite the support of the priests the straight 6 days of crafting had drained the wizard and he desperately wanted to sleep. "A lost son returned, a shard..." Octavian trailed off as he felt something come from the hammer in his hand, a faint tug on his mind that was little more than a whisper of a feather against his will. A moment the feeling was gone and he frowned at the magical weapon. "A moment brother." He would say to forestall the priest. He cast a magic that aided him in identifying the properties of magic items and stared intently at the warhammer.
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"I will need food and water nearby at all times as well as a healing magic to stave off fatigue. I will not stop until this weapon is done. And make sure there are always tools nearby...I have no idea how mortals tools with fare against something so powerful. And holy oil to quench the metal." Octavian would order. While the necessary supplies were gathered he ate a meal of bread and fruit to restore his body's reserves. In his mind he began to summon the magical energy he would infuse into the metal, the logical processes and arcane formula that would be woven into the white hot metal. A plan for a magical weapon had been forming in his mind for months now, ever since they had received their power from the storm dragon. The journey had started when he had created his staff. The staff would act as the fertile soil for the magic to take root and grow into a magnificent bloom of power and beauty.
Ignoring the minor burns he had accumulated through his ordeal the wizard dressed not in the stately robes he had arrived in but a plain garment made of white cloth. He rolled back the top of the robe above his hips and tied the sleeves around his waist, leaving his upper body bare. The scars on his back stood out in ridged lines among the older ritual scars and tattoos he had gained as he mastered magic at the academy. Despite their supposed refined culture the Illidari were still quite savage with some of their traditions. Among the Arcanix rank was carved in the very flesh as mute testimoney of the student's suffering and achievements. Stepping up on the old stone platform of the First Anvil Octavian felt a deep sense of history. The stone floor was ancient and grooved from the movement of thousands of feet and the platform looked like a sacrifical altar of barbarians. The First Anvil was a huge example of the tool, coming to his waist and resting on no stand and easily weighing over a ton. There was nothing flashy or overt about the relic and in truth megical scans revealed very little. But over the past seven millenia the forge had claimed many lives. Accidents, exhaustion and plain stupid decisions, all had fed the monstrocity. Octavian took a deep breath as he stood next to the Anvil and stared at the dull metal. Despite hearing so many stories about the death surrounding this tool Octavian felt a sense of fate as he took up a pair of tongs and hammer and plunged the shard into the blazing forge nearby. The forge reacted by roaring to life as tendrils of fire danced over the stone as the fire elemental bound to the device injected it's essense. While the shard heated he cast several spells on himself that would aid in his endevour. While the intelligence magic took hold he cast a spell over a goblet of water presented to him. The clear liquid turned a deep red color before he drank it in a single quaf. The wine was of simple complexity but held the magic well. As he moved over to the forge again he looked to the nearest cleric and said "Make sure to maintain Mazen's Logic on me at all times."
The first blow of the hammer on the shard created an explosion of white sparks thirty feet wide. Another hammer blow followed that, and then another and another and another. With each blow Octavian stared deep at the soft metal as he shaped it into a complex geometric shape, something the mathmeticians of his people called a hypercube. It was a difficult shape to make but the inherent geometric qualities held a vast potential for holding magic.
Once the cube was shaped he placed the shard into the forge and went over to the barrels of ore he had brought from the estate. He retreieved equal amounts of adamantine, mithril and black iron. Each of these he heated until he could hammer them in a bar shape over and over, folding it each time. Once each metal had been purged of impurities he stacked the 3 bars and hammer welded them together. Once the three disparate metals had become a unified shape he drew the bar out and folded it over and over. Each fold of the metal evenly spread out the inherent qualities of the 3 metals throughout the entire shape. Once he had folded the metal enough times to achieve one million layers he bagan to fold the sides in until a receptacle for the hypercube appeared. He retreived the shard and fitted the two metals together, hammering them into a unified whole. Octavian knew that despite his hammer blows the hypercube would maintain it's shape as the other metals molded around it into an ornate warhammer.
Octavian lost track of time as he went from forge to anvil and back again, his arm rising and falling over and over. Each time a hammer broke he tossed the remnants aside and retreived another from the tools the preists had assembled for him. Every now and then he could feel a tingle as healing magic washed over him as the clerics strove to keep him empowered. The light in the windows faded and reappeared as the hours turned into days. During the entire time Octavian cast spells into the white hot metal as he hammered, also using his races innate magic every day. Once a day a hunched figure would appear among the growing crowd of spectators, leaning heavily on a staff. Octavian's concentration was so complete that he never noticed the powerful restorative magic the old preist would cast on him that allowed to keep casting spells into the magic without resting. When the warhammer began to throw off powerful waves of magic the wizard knew it was time to merge his staff as the haft of the weapon. Without blinking he took the darkwood staff and plunged it straight down into the superheated metal. As the magic sank deep into the arcane construct Octavian poured everything he was into the weapon, his dreams, his past, his future, his love, his hate, his soul. And every ounce of magical power he had left.
When the staff had sunk impossibly deep into the metal and there was only a foot and a half left sticking out the wizard picked up the completed warhammer and plunged deep into the holy oil. He stayed there as still as a statue as the powerful weapon cooled and pulled it once the oil stopped boiling. Immediately the oil covered metal caught fire in the air. Octavian snuffed out the flames by stepping over to the First Anvil and slamming the hammer down with a thunderous clang. The impact snuffed out the flames with the remnants of powerful magic used in the crafting.
Octavian used the hem of the robe to wipe the sweat from his face and looked around. He had never been to the inner part of the temple accessible only by proving one's devotion. He was surprised to see the interior of the temple was carved from solid granite, the walls polished to a high shine while the floor was left rough. The ceiling arced high overhead and was supported by a row of massive pillars. Several archways opened on both sides of the main hall and Octavian could hear hammering coming out of one of them. "I seek the Anvil brother." Octavian responded. Standing up straight as strength returned to him the wizard raised the shard up to view it. He was as astonished as the gasping priests when he saw that the shard was giving off energy like a miniature star, tendrils of multicolored energy waving lazily in invisible currents. "I...I seek to forge this Shard on the First Anvil. I seek to forge a weapon of destiny."
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"If you have need of me I will be spending my time up at the temple. Even Elaran will not dare spill the blood of a devotee of Flame in the temple." Octavian would say as everyone splits up. He returns home and instructs the servants to hitch up a wagon and load the barrels of ore they had brought across the desert with them. It would take him another fifteen minutes to drive the two miles distance between the Temple of Viridian Flame and his home. The huge building stretched over a hundred feet above the ground and was made from black and green marble. At the gate to the temple he says to the guards in archaeic Illidari "This devotee wishes to walk the path of Ignition and burn away the dross weighing down the purity of my soul." The guards would nod silently and pull open the ornate gates of gilded mithril. The airy metal was a deep golden color that danced with an inner light and gave off a heat that would burn any race not resistant to flame. Inside the temple grounds several monks in vibrant red and golden robes sat in groups and discussed theology in ancient Illidari. The language had evolved since their species emigrated to this planet seven thousand years ago but the most devout maintained the language as the language of Vulcan. Octavian would bring the wagon to a stop as a young acolyte ran up to take the horses reins in hand. Octavian murmured directions for the apprentice preist to take the ore to the Hall of Creation where he would arrive after undergoing the cleansing. The ritual was required if the wizard wanted to make use of the forges in the Hall of Creation, especially if he was going to dare to use the First Anvil. The artifact had been a fixture within the temple since the first brick was laid, the building actually having been built around it. It was said that only the Chosen could survive the heat and power generated by the First Anvil. Anyone wishing to become the High Preist had to prove their devotion by crafting their symbol of office on the anvil and not dying in the process. The last had been over 300 years ago and that man was still the ultimate authority within the temple grounds. Octavian wagered the odds of meeting his grandfather while walking the path of Ignition and forging the Shard on the First Anvil were high. Inside the temple the wizard was directed down a hall by a silent monk in red and gold. This monk was equipped with a black iron breastplate and warhammer, indicating his position within the middle rank of preists. The ranking system was a little obscure to Octavian as he had seen the Obsidian Order in the amongst the Path of Adamantine, the highest order within the temporal ranking. The monk motioned for Octavian to stop and fished out a large key from inside his robes to unlock a simple steel door. Inside the room was austere with a row of pegs on one wall facing a bench. "Remove your clothing and dress in that robe. Any items of mundane or magical nature must be left behind and will be waiting for you on the other side. May your soul be ever bright Brother." the monk would tell Octavian. Before the wizard could respond the door was closed and locked with a solid clicking noise. From this point on Octavian could only walk forward. Undressing quickly all the way to the nude the wizard pulled on the rough woolen robe. He went barefoot and without any items with the exception of the Shard which he kept clenched in one fist. He knocked on the door only to find the metal swing open at his touch. On the other side was a round room with several doors lining the wall. There was a break in the wall where a pair of huge black iron doors sat closed. The air closest to the doors shimmered with the heat radiating from the metal and that was where Octavian's true test would begin. While the Path would not kill him it was still a test of endurance and faith and would be painful. It was the only way he would even be allowed to get near the First Anvil and while Octavian was no preist, he was faithful. Grabbing the rung on one door the wizard pulled hard and grimaced with the weight. There was a hissing noise as the moisture on his palms turned to steam as soon as he touched the hot metal door. That was nothing compared to the blast of heat that set his long black hair and woolen robe dancing. Beyond the door awaited Hell. Or what at first glance was hell. A blackened stone pathway stretched into a vast hall filled with flame. Directly in front of him was a double row of huge fire elementals that turned to look at the wizard impassively. The Path of Ignition led directly between these two rows of creatures and the air shimmered with their barely restrained heat. In the disance the wizard could barely make out a doorway on the other side of the hall that offered the only refuge from this point on. The noise in the hall was almost indescribable, the roar of a thousand blast furnaces stronger then an entire legion of dragons. Heavy stone and magic buffered the heat and noise and kept it contained inside this hall. It was in this fury and fire that the strongest of the Illidari walked, their souls of flame burning everbright. Octavian took a deep breath and set his foot on the path. Almost immediately the elementals reacted. Their forms turned white as they stretched their arms across the path and flowed into a single entity. The path changed from a walkway into a tunnel of multicolored fire that beckoned the wizard forward. Tamping down his beating heart Octavian raised the shard before him and walked boldly into fire. Immediately his robe caught fire that only added to the noise and power of the situation. His hair danced wildly in the powerful currents of air and the robe quickly disintegrated, the burning fragments spinning into the maelstrom before vanishing. As soon as he moved past the first elementals the tunnel slammed shut behind him in a thunderclap, the concussive force enough to make his ears ring. Squinting against the bright light the wizard continued to move forward at a steady pace, his mind shrinking back from the chaos around him and focusing itself into a single point of light that grew brighter with every step. Soon his spirit began to sing at the same frequency of the hall, the pain and agony of 20 years burning away as the ritual cleansing continued. Soon his mind arrived at the first true horror in his life when he and his wife had been captured by human soldiers. Watching them rape Saleesa while the whip bit into his back before casually slitting her throat burned in the wizard's mind surrounded in a corona of rage and grief. "Saleesa, come to me love. Walk with me." Octavian called out while the flames swirled around him. A moment later a creature of fire and spirit shimmered into existance, substance given form by the power of the temple. His late wife looked at him with eyes of embers, her hand snaking out to take his own. She said nothing but walked next to him, her form shimmering from the waves of heat flowing all around them. Octavian felt strengthened by her presence and locked his eyes on the path ahead of him, the shard held up to preceed him. Flame swirled around his hand as the Shard drank in the divine fire and responded with it's own blue flame. Energy pulsed over Octavian as the Shard awakened and burned hot and bright in his hand and sent a reverberation throughout the temple in the form of a great bell sound. Octavian lost track of the next several minutes, time blurring into a single image of flame and the roar of a waterfall. All too soon he was on the other side, Saleesa vanishing into a firewhirl that danced back into the hall. The door ahead of him opened and the cool air on the other side felt icy cold against his hot skin. A cool, wet robe was draped across his shoulders and steam erupted off the garment for a split second before he started to cool off. A chalice filled with cool water was pressed against his lips and he drank reflexivly. The first sound he registered was "Well done brother."
As Jasmine leaves Octavian falls into step next to her, remaining silent until they had cleared ear shot of the guards. Speaking lowly so only she could hear he said "Be careful in your planning. If the councilor's warnings have any merit it indicates something dire. We haven't had a civil war or coup in the city for six thousand years. The reason why you found those ruins and the reason why there are Illidari ruins all over this desert is because of that war. Thousands were killed when the leaders of the Arcanix attempted to usurp leadership and turn our society into a Magocracy, taking power away from the people. That is why there is not a position on the council for the Arcanix. Despite what you may have seen in that chamber, everyone there has been voted into their position with the exception of Elaran. My grandfather has been on that council for over three hundred years but rarely shows. He was always more interested in the spiritual health of our people and cared little for political squabbling. I fear his disinterest has led to power hungry people like Elaran planning to take control once again. If that is allowed to happen I am sure that we will be exiled if not executed. You saw the look of greed on Elaran's face when I revealed the shard. You have been granted full visitation rights so if any Illidari attacks you, they are traitors to their people in a time of war. Take some of our compatriots with you and deal with them as we've always dealt with traitors." Octavian's voice dropped to a growl at the end here. He stopped Jasmine to turn her and look into her eyes. "Kill them."
"That was not an attack Honored Council member. I have fought side by side with Tsakua for many months now and I can tell you that had he truly attacked, Eleran would be dead." Octavian said briskly, ignoring the spears inches away from his face. He knew as a member of the Lucarin family that his name carried certain protections. "Our city faces an unprecedented threat and that fool would have us huddle behind our wall, trusting only in our past glory to save us. We have stagnated behind our magic and arrogance for far too long. Our neglect of this world has allowed individuals like the human emperor to gain tremendous power and use it to enact genocide again all non-humans. Tens of thousands have died for no other reason then defending their neighbors and family from ignorance and hatred. This city is a monument to not only our mastery of magic but our decadence, our arrogance. We must put aside the glories of the past and reach out to the other inhabitants of this world. We are all a part of the same world and must band together to resist the tide of hatred from the East. Xenophobic racists like Elaran will only drag our society into the abyss."
"No." Octavian said firmly while putting the shard back in the bag under his robe. "I have no need to prove myself to you, Elaran." he said, pointedly omitting the priest any honorifics. He had not walked to hell and back to bandy words with an idiot. "You do not have the authority to command me to do ANYTHING, you are not the high priest. This shard was placed into my hands by divine providence, not yours. It saved our caravan when we were lost in the desert by showing the way to the city. The stone ANSWERED my prayers when I asked it to show us the way home. I am the master of this shard and only death will take it from my hands." The wizard moved back to the table with his companions, his staff firmly in hand. He pulled the shard back out once he was safely among his companions and stared deeply at the shard. Loud enough that everyone could hear he asked in the Illidari tongue "Father of flame, Divine Hammer I beg that your divine flame will illuminate the non-believers."
The wizard had been silent as his allies wavered between derision and logical discourse as they tried to convince the council. He debated with himself for several minutes about his next action, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. What was needed was not more arguments for those wanting to be proactive. No what was needed was a direct attack on the unshakeable faith of the religious leader. Something even they could not ignore. "Honorable Elders I have something to show you." Octavian said directly to the priest. Reaching into his robes he pulled forth a silk bag hanging from his belt and dumped the contents into his hand. The shard of colored metal he had discovered in the box recovered from the ruins shimmered as it caught the magical lights of the council chamber. Holding the shard up high Octavian stepped around the table and moved into the center of the room. "Do you know what this is? Do you know it presented itself to me, spoke to me?"
Octavian arched an eyebrow at the appearance of the Resonating crystals but discovered he was just as curious about the possible reactions at his group's touch. Without hesitation the wizard reached out and took a crystal in hand, cupping it gently.
Octavian would be a much changed individual with his return home. The next day after their arrival he was found outside burning the bedsheet robes he had worn for so long with a spray of fire from his hands, his eyes burning with hate and fury. Now he went around in a fine white hooded robe with a deep blue stole with elaborate mithril embroidery. The soldier's scuffed boots had been thrown into the trash and now he walked in a pair of fine brown leather boots made from a supple material. The magical bracers had been cleaned to a shine and now sat over his cloth wrapped forearms. When the call to the assembly came Octavian nodded and came quietly, his darkwood staff thudding solidly into the ground with every step. His ears perk at Pazeek's question and he turns his head to respond to the tengu's question. "I don't know. I was not expecting a summons from the entire council and frankly was hoping they would leave us alone. But unfortunately very little around here gets done without discussion in the forum." When they entered the main room of the assembly Octavian led the group over to an empty table and indicated with a nod of his head that they should sit. He picked a chair at random, not caring that his refusal to choose the center chair and thus indicate his leadership raised a few eyebrows among his countrymen. After more than two decades away the wizard was finding his own views were drastically changed from his own people.
I will be afk for a couple of days.
Yolo: The Illidari Octavian mentioned reach into a pack on his belt and pulled out a heavy silver ring set with a sapphire. He presented the ring to the captain of the guard contingent. The other captain looked at the ring carefully for several seconds before barking an order to the rest of her squad. She saluted Captain Gaius smartly before stepping out of the way of the group. These huge doors opened just as smoothly as all the ones before and anyone who can make a DC 15 K. Nature check knows that every gate they've seen up until this point has been made from solid adamantine.
Beyond the gate the noble section of the city was as different from the lower levels as the city was from the desert. The PCs would see that this section of the city stretched far into the mountains and there were noble villas scattered everywhere. There were several large buildings that were obviously different from those that could be labled as dwellings. A complex made of several small towers sitting on a large basalt building laced with gold and mithril would be identified as the Arcanix by Octavian, one of the premier centers of learning in the world. The road that stretched up into shallow valley that this part of the city rested in meandered from side to side, curving around the boundaries of the grounds of the large villas that were built in a riot of different colors. Whereas the houses in the lower section had been with utility and slight comfort in mind, these immense buildins surrounded by often perfetly manicured grounds were all about comfort. Tall columns of white marble with delicate mithril fillagree would clash with houses of blocky sandstone with great stone sphinx's on either side of the main door. A DC 10 Perception will reveal that all of the houses in the valley were built in a kind of radial design around a massive complex of white and black marble that easily dominated the view. Hundreds of feet tall, the building was basically a massive hollow square. All that could be seen from this far away was columns twenty feet thick holding up a vaulted roof. From inside the complex came a flickering orange light as if a huge bonfire burned within. For over thirty minutes the group would climb higher and higher until finally they stopped at a ornamental gate made of mithril and covered with a thick mat of red rose vines. Before Gaius could push on the gate they were thrown open from the inside and a female Illidari with a streak of white hair at her temple came rushing out to throw herself at Octavian with a sob. The wizard stumbled back in surprise as the woman placed her hands on either side of his face for a moment. "My son..." she would sob once before burying her face in his neck and continuing to cry. Behind the woman came several other tall Illidari, both men and women. It was obvious with a glance that these with the wizard's family members as they all clustered around the flustered Octavian and his sobbing mother and enclosed them both in a group hug. Tears were evident on many faces as the House of Lucarin welcomed home a lost soul. It was an older illidari who would nudge Octavian's mother's elbow. "Love we are drawing curious stares. Why don't we let our son clean up and dress in something a little more respectable then bathsheets." the man would tease. Octavian's mother would hold on to her son for several long seconds before ragaining control and dabbing at her face with the corner of a diaphenous red robe. Drawing herself to her full height, slightly taller then the already tall wizard, the woman looked around at the other PCs with startling amber eyes. "Who are these ones shou'ren?" Octavian disengaged from his family to wave at the other PCs. "These are my freinds Mother. Through a long and dark road we've walked together and I trust them. Without them I would not be here." "Then you are all welcome to our home. You may call me Alreena. Come quickly, I imagine that you are all tired and hungry. Food, clothing, bathes and a bed are all waiting for you. With news of my son's return the entire family has gathered so the main house is full. You will have to stay in my son's home." she said. Linking her arm with Octavian the matriarch of the family led the now large congregration onto the family grounds. Several buildings were evident beyond the rose vine encrusted gate and Alreena led them on a path away from the largest of the buildings which was alite with magical lights that danced around the building. The building she led them to was surrounded by tall trees, something which should have been impossible in the deep desert. Passing through the border of the trees the party would see a building made of black marble and accented simply with rare rosewood lintels and doorways. While the building was much smaller then the main house it was still huge in comparison the houses of the lower levels. Several flower vines carefully crawled up the side of the building and the grounds were kept in neat order but the house had an air of vacancy. "I couldn't bear to change anything about it. Father looked into the fire and spoke to the ancestors and you never answered so we knew you were still alive. But beyond the desert his sight is weak so we could not find you. To think all these years you were kept a slave, chained up like an animal. They dared touch my son!" On either side of the door to the house were two golden dishes attacked to the wall. Flame suddenly erupted from these two dishes in a harsh glare as Alreena's fury began to affect the magic around her in visible waves. Red runes began to creep over the Illidari woman's skin as magic visibly shone in her eyes. Octavian reach out suddenly and grabbed his mother's shoulder, hard. "You will not stain the honor of our house by acting in such a way in front of guests. Calm yourself mother." he commanded in the same voice he used with the refugees. While this was happening the older illidari male who had spoken with her earlier simply sighed in exasperation and crossed his arms, prepared to wait. Alreena tensed when Octavian grabbed her shoulder but strangled the attack spell that was on the tip of her tongue. As she did the fires next to the door died down to a gentle flicker that simply illuminated the area. With a wave of her hand the rest of the house would spring into illumination. Alreena turned to Octavian and hugged him gently. "It is good to see the long years have not bowed your shoulders my son." She looked at the rest of the group and the smile on her face vanished. "Be warned that for a few days I must ask you to stay on the House grounds. I will alert the city guard to your status as honored guests of our family but until then you will stay within these walls. Food, clothing, entertainment and more are readily available, simply ask." she said. With that the various family members began to disperse across the grounds. Soon the only two left were Alreena and older male. They hugged Octavian and spoke quietly for several moments before moving towards the main building. Once they were out of earshot Octavian let out an explosive breath and looked sheepishly at the group. "My mother. Lead Battlemage in the city. Fantastic power, terrible temper. Please my friends, enough trudging around. Be welcome in my home." As a servant came to take Acteon the wizard pushed open the wooden door to his house and let out a sound that could only be a sigh of contentment. The area just beyond the door was a main receiving hall that had several exquisitely crafted wooden artwork. Either side of the main hall opened up into more rooms that were all filled with master crafted furniture of wood and silk. A large set of curving stairs was directly in front of the party as they entered and Octavian began to walk up those immediately. "Guests rooms are to the left from the top of the stairs. Pick what you want there is more than enough for each of you to have your own room. I am going to take a bath before I do anything else."
Octavian gets right in Jasmine's face. "I'm not having this discussion right now. You are in MY city among MY people who are not reacting in a negative way to your presence. You are being taken to a noble villa where you will be in far better accommodations then anything the refugees have. This is an act of courtesy and friendship from me. If you cause problems with my people during a time of war you will be ejected from this city and left in the desert to die. Do you understand that? Now give me back my brother's belongings or I will have you arrested."
"Of course Inja, as long as she also recognizes that she is a guest in someone elses territory." Octavian said with a smile. A moment later the expression on his face turned into a thundercloud and he stepped over to Jasmine. Stopping directly in front of the woman he blocked her and held out his hand. Whispering harshly so that only she could hear he said "Give me the pouch or I will have you arrested right here and now. Robbing a Captain AND member of a noble house will get you thrown in prison for at least ten years. Give. Me. The. Pouch."
“Of course not. I keep my promises but I should tell you that the people who taught ME also live in this city. You will not find a finer source of magical knowledge on this continent.” Octavian said while continuing to walk next to Captain Gaius. Every now and then the two could be seen talking quietly back and forth with each other. For several minutes the group with walk through the merchant section, always moving around carts laden with goods going both up and downlevel. Soon another wall and gate could be seen as the group continued to trudge up the slope of the mountain city. At the base of this marble wall the group would be challenged by heavily armed guards. From on top of the wall dozens of crossbows were aimed at the non-Illidari contingent following Octavian and the wizard quickly stepped back to place himself between the archers and the rest of the group. "Please keep your hands away from your weapons. The section above us is the noble section where the senate, arcane learning and our temples are located. In this time of war this section of the city will be heavily guarded so please dont' provoke them. Right now I look the part of a vagabond so let Captain Gaius do the talking."
Octavian would turn back and motion for the PCs to follow him past the refugee housing. "No my freinds, for now you will stay with me. It may have been 20 years but I still have a home. It's more than large enough for all of you." He would say. A few moments later the true splendor of the city came into the view. The farthest reaches were lost up the slopes of the mountains the city was nestled against, glints of green and blue thousands of feet higher than the desert floor. At first the view would be almost blinding as sunlight bounced off a massive wall that encircled the entire base of the city. It was easily a hundred feet tall with a massive gate of a silvery metal of some kind that swung soundlessly on hinges that were easily taller than Tsakua. Inside the gates the city was a splendor of multicolored marble. Down near the gate were several barracks and several buildings that were obviously for military use. On either side a military camp stretched, the air thick with the sound of shouts and hammering metal. Anyone who would look with a DC 10 perception would see huge forges setup past the military section with barrels and barrels full of simple but well made weapons. Carts full of refined ore waited their turn as the famed smithies turned out more and more weapons for the growing Illidari warmachine. To even a layperson it was obvious that this was a race preparing for battle. Octavian continued to lead Acteon by hand as he followed Gaius up past the military section closest to the wall up to a middle tier that was elevated above the lowest section of the city. Another wall enclosed this section with another huge gate and this caused Octavian to stop for a moment to gape at the construction. He resumed walking a moment and caught up to to Gaius, shaking his head. "So now they break the city's beauty to build ever more walls? A sad state the human's have driven us to." Past the second gate the city changed drastically. Gone was the hardened military quarter. This section contained small houses made of plain white marble that shimmered in the bright sunlight. If asked why there was so much marble in the city Octavian would answer with "It takes a long time for marble to heat up and it cools quickly. Ideal for living in the desert." They were walking up a main street that passed by several open areas on either side where hundreds of merchants stood before their carts and more permanent shops and hawked a thousand different wares. A food vender with grilled vegetables sat next to a merchant protected by a large half-orc in immaculate fullplate. Before the merchant were several pieces of cloth covered with dozens of glittering gems that sparkled in the harsh sunlight. Octavian point to the right were a natural tower of dark slate thrust up from the city. Covering the entirety of the tower were narrow balconies covered with a large cloth for shade. Hundreds of black feathered humanoid creatures could be seen from the road as they jumped down from their abodes in the tower and glided down to where a large building sat near the tower. From inside the huge warehouse came loud screeches and calls that would catch Sharpfeather's attention. "Your people have been given that section of the city Pazeek. There is also a manger for Sharpfeather if you don't want to keep him at my house. You have the choice of there or at my house while you stay here."
Octavian returned the huge of the larger Illidari fiercely, the most emotion the wizard had ever shown. He held the hug for several seconds before pushing the warrior to arm's length and looking him in the eyes. So quietly that only those close could hear the wizard said "My brother Gaius....words cannot describe the joy I feel at this moment. But you were her brother and have reason to hate me. I could not stop them from killing her and for that I am more sorry then you will ever know. Please, leave your second in command in charge and return home. I would grieve with your House properly."
The wizard planted his staff in the sand and leaned on it, smiling grimly at the scout. "Forgive my lack of mirth but we are running low on food. Most here have pledged to fight the imperialist humans after their homes and families were destroyed. We were chased into the desert by a contingent that has been chasing us for weeks, ever since we broke free of our slavers and killed them all. And it's been over twenty years since I was captured and my la'ri was raped and murdered in front of my eyes. So forgive my lack of patience but as a son of House Lucarin I...request that you lead myself and the innocents following to safety in New Alexandria." he said. Octavian glanced over at Jasmine with an arched eyebrow before adding to the scout "I will vouch for them all."
As soon as the call went out Octavian was on his feet and at the edge of the camp. For a minute he stared at the figure before pulling his hood down and shaking out his midnight black hair. With his staff in hand he walked away from the caravan and headed straight towards the white clad figure. "Well met kinsman. Long have I been enslaved by the humans and this is my pilgrimage home. I am escorting these refugees to New Alexandria as most of them have taken up arms against the human emperor. I am Octavian Lucarin, grandson of High Priest Maxil." he would say in the illidari language.
Octavian stayed on his knees as the great wyrm slid away, not moving. Even when the refugees began to calm down and come back together, the Illidari stayed on in his knees, sitting back on his haunches with his head bowed. An expression of grief was clearly evident on the wizard's face as the thunder and screams washed over the caravan. In a surprising move the wizard raised his face to the sky and let out a powerful scream, echoing the call of the wurms that came from all directions. As the rumbling became silence Octavian got to his feet and moved over to Acteon, calming the nervous warhorse with gentle murmurs and stroking the powerful creature's neck. A single tear escaped his normally taciturn face before he slung himself onto the horses back and moved towards the head of the caravan. He would wait patiently while the rest of the caravan assembled before giving a silent command with a waved hand for the group to continue moving. Another hand was raised to the sky and moved in a loop position, asking for Paeek to continue his overwatch.
Octavian jumped down from Acteon and jerked the horse's reins savagely to one side to get the warhorse's attention. "Stand!" he commanded.
Once Acteon had settled down Octavian left the panicked mill of the refugees and stepped next to Jasmine. "Follow my lead." He whispered to the elf before dropping to his knees and prostrating himself. "Oh mighty Shi'Atar, master of the sands, undefeated and beautiful, we humble ourselves before your august majesty and beg simply that we be allowed to pass out of your rightful territory!" he cried out in the illidari tongue.
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