Unstuck In Time! (IC)

[Geez3r]

Atlas touched down not long after Gabriel. "Hello Fulcrum. Formidable as ever I see. Scarab; Avenger and Phantom's praise vas not undue I see. Gabriel, a pleasure to meet you." he said after converting his form to a leaner 7ft and still bright red version, offering his hand to each in turn as some of his accent crept in. Getting right down to business, he continued "Vhatever snagged me to bring me here did so vhile I vas in mid-air. I vas a target. Not a random occurrence. As for ze battle, I sent along any information I found out vhen I found it out. Zere vas also a shocktroop group lead by a female officier (did not catch a name) zat vas heading to one of ze sorcerers to take zem out. Apparently zey are an enemy zey have fought before, as zey knew of ze sorcerers." he finished simply.

[Quinn]

A "heads up!" came from above, as Push stumbled through the air and hit the ground, nearly taking a tumble as he landed. The kineticist let the end of his hammer hit the ground, and he leaned on it for a few seconds, taking stock of the heroes he was actually speaking to. He'd met Fulcrum before, albeit in passing (his coat still had burn marks from that dragon), it'd have been hard not to hear about The Scarab (particularly if you liv-he flattened that thought as fast as he could, keeping a poker face directed away from the psychic), Gabriel he knew semi-well, and from what he could tell Arcturus was hot-footing it in their direction with a trio of new friends too. The big red guy was an anomaly, though; still, he seemed heroic, so...eh.

"Don't know much about the monsters, but they don't seem to like guys carrying hammers around here; all the dirty looks they gave me made me feel a mite unwelcome. And yeah, I'll second that, I opened up my fridge and next thing I know I'm here. Gabe, you had a bit to chat with that Battlemaster before he took command, what did he say?"

He looked at the messenger of God, tilting his head, before his manners reasserted themselves. And then he facepalmed.

"Oh, right, sorry...name's Push, nice to meetcha."

[GranspearZX]

...compare notes? Sure, okay.

In Arcturus's head, his voice had an echo when he was in his altered form; even in thought, Marcus and the Beast rune were in an almost forced unison. It wasn't strained or anything of the sort, however. As exhausted as he was, one could tell who was in greater command. With its inherent aggression sated for the moment and the danger passed, he started towards those he found familiar.

The fact that he was stranded on some other strange world had occurred to him. The fact was, though, that it didn't incite the sort of panic that one might have associated with being sucked involuntarily through a portal in a sock drawer. He had, in fact, been spending much of his summer studying portal magic and dimensional pockets for an experiment he wanted to try involving his room at Parkhurst. This was an almost welcome distraction, as he hadn't had a chance to use his physical magic in several weeks. He was pretty confident that getting back wouldn't be a problem, and as he considered the possibility of time flow between this world and his own, he spotted Gabriel.

And Push. His eyes narrowed a little bit and he snorted. No 'Agent Stone' today, huh?

"I... don't remember what I was doin' before, to tell you the truth. Studyin' or somethin'... but next thing I know, I get sucked into a drawer and land in the middle of a battlefield. I've had dreams that made more sense..."

Arc looked among those assembled, nodding to Fulcrum with a vague amount of recognition. Scarab he only knew by reputation, and though he had spotted Atlas from the very beginning--before everything kind of exploded into a full on assault and he was concentrating more on saving his own fur--he was fairly certain the guy could be trusted. He couldn't help but tilt his head a little bit at Atlas's accent, though, out of sheer curiosity.

[KnightDisciple]

Gabriel shrugs at Push's question.

"Not much you didn't catch; a couple comments about how long they'd been fighting, a joke about being more scared of his wife, and a remakr that this was the third attack by these forces. He did say each attack had those sorcerers with them, and that the "beastmen" were basically constructs of earth and such. Other than that, I think you heard all the high points I did."

He frowned a bit.

"There's clearly some sort of prejudice against mages here. Enough that there's an entire "Ordo Malleus" running around. Which makes one wonder about what has happened in this place. We still lack information; we need to be careful until we've got more knowledge about...well, basically everything going on."

[Dariusprime]

Fulcrum turned to Atlas and shook his hand with enthusiasm. "Same to you, Atlas. You're looking good." Once he converted to a smaller form, she leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Push, too, she greeted warmly and with a handshake as well, even if she only knew him passing. "First a dragon and now medieval worlds? We need to stop meeting like this, Push," she said ironically, and with a smile.

She introduced herself to Gabriel and Arcturus as well. Arcturus she remembered from the dragon battle as well, but didn't really have a chance to meet formally. They were locals, that much she knew. "A pleasure to meet you both. I'm Fulcrum. We're all from the Freedom City area aren't we?"

With that question, she nodded to the various tales and added her own, "I was out on patrol. Like Atlas, the portal opened right in front of me. I was hovering over the battlefield before I know what happened. We've definitely been brought here for a reason." Looking out over the row upon row of wounded, she added grimly, "I think I know why."

[N/A]

"Scarab, I've heard a lot of great things about you. I go by Gabriel. Real pleasure to meet you. Seems like you helped ups really square away victory. Hopefully we can keep the momentum up."

[bg=#BF0000]"I appreciate the sentiment. I made some bad choices out there today, but that just gives me common ground with whoever was responsible for this mess. Atlas, I'm glad to see you're looking well."[/bg]

[bg=#BF0000]"It is a pleasure to meet you all. I only wish we could have met under better circumstances. But that is rarely the case for our chosen profession. In any event, we can hardly compare notes until we have notes to compare. I've already sent a message to the local authorities expressing our mutual desire for a clarification session tonight. Hopefully, after they're done justifying their abysmal handling of the situation, they can shed some light on our entrance, or provide us with the resources to figure it out ourselves."[/bg] The Scarab gestured absent-mindedly to the canvas-covered globe hovering beside her. [bg=#BF0000]"We already have some leads, which I will follow up on as time permits. Until then, I will assist the surgeons and apothecaries as best I can."[/bg]

[Dariusprime]

"Good," Fulcrum replied to Scarab. "Hopefully, the meeting will shed some light on this issue. That we are all here, in this place, on this world, right now, is highly coincidental."

"Until then, let's follow Scarab's lead," she addressed the gathered heroes. "The city hasn't been damaged, but many defenders are injured. I'm going to volunteer to do what I can. Wounded are still heading to the city and would appreciate any help. Looks like the healers need all the help they can get too. The dead need to be retrieved. The sorcerers may have other tricks up their sleeves, and we should be ready."

"Scarab, would you relay a message to use when the meeting will convene please?" Nodding to herself, she addressed the heroes again, "Great job out there. Time to help out and find a way home." Off she went to ferry more walking wounded back to the city gate.

[GranspearZX]

As the older heroes spoke, Marcus was content to watch, though the Beast Rune's restlessness made him fidget a little without completely realizing it. Finding a way home didn't seem terribly high on Marcus's list of priorities. After all, what did he really have to go back to? Studying, his summer job at the Hanover Zoo, his project at Parkhurst Manor... He hadn't even heard from most of his other mystic comrades in months. And then there was his issues with his parents... Going back to all of that seemed like a waste colossal waste of his time.

He'd managed to irritate himself with thoughts of home, and the only way he knew of to deal with his own problems was to focus on solving someone else's instead. Following Fulcrum's lead, he headed towards the outer wall. He would have preferred to hang around the Wolves for a bit, but doing something constructive seemed like a much safer course of action. There was no telling what would happen next.

[Quinn]

Push stayed at the back of the group, smiling at Fulcrum' jocular comment about their previous meeting, nodding at her request to leave Scarab in charge. Arcturus's snort made him turn his head for a moment, and he wrinkled his nose at the bear kid somewhat more cheerfully; the post-battle high hadn't quite gone down yet, and he'd thoroughly enjoyed the chance to cut loose for once. The kineticist watched as the group scattered to their different jobs, himself a tad unsure. Push moved from place to place, carrying the odd wounded man off the field, but unable to do much more than that; his talents for repair lay in a more mechanical, not biological sense. Still, he watched, and listened. Something he was fairly good at.

He saw the Wolves descend on Arcturus as he walked to the gates to help, laughing as they aided injured comrades with him, and joking with their wounded mates that this was nothing compared to battles past, and tallied the number of beastmen each had beaten. Where they helped, warriors seemed to lighten, their wounds less painful as they returned the jibes and puns with cheer. This was their victory day, after all, and had not the heavens opened up and delivered them from the hordes in their time of need?

He saw Fulcrum recieve a far more grand reception by the different groups she worked with, the soldiers, healers, and officers looking on her with an awe tinged by reverence. Besides Scarab and Atlas, she was the most grand of the heroes, her cape flowing behind her as she flew, the strength of a hundred men in her arms (or a thousand, the numbers seemed to go up with each whisper she heard.)

He saw that Scarab, on the other hand, was given something a tad different as she worked; respect, but tinged with fear. During the battle, the soldiers had been focused on the combat, death hanging over their shoulders; now this faceless, armored 'magi' walked amongst them, binding their wounds and alleviating their hurts. One captain and his men saluted her with great ceremony, insisting on acting as an honor-guard given that she had aided them immensely in the battle.

He saw Atlas get his own fair share of stares, the great red hero walking amongst the soldiers; for all of the armored fighters' bulk, Atlas still seemed to stride amongst them like a colossus. His own experience was half-and-half, some greeted him like an old comrade, clapping him on the back and roaring with cheers as they recounted his single-handed defeat of the great monster that had erupted on the field. Others, however, murmured things as he passed, suspicions of the Warlord, and fell experiments...and monsters.

He saw Gabriel swept up in a mammoth bear hug by Battlemaster Tarquin during a brief lull in messengers, the general again thanking him for his efforts and his own life earlier. Soldiers murmured themselves as the white-clad hero went about his work, a similar sentiment to the Scarab's seeming to follow him, but the respect somewhat greater given his reception by the general; a mage he might be, one soldier muttered, but a Free City man through and through. A small cadre of troops began to follow him as an honor-guard as well, likely assigned by Tarquin himself.

Push saw most of it, his own experience somewhat less exciting. For the most part he was shunned, not that he cared much; the hammer seemed somewhat of a talisman that caused men to shy away, either with disparaging comments, or the same respect tempered with fear. His questions didn't garner much info, but he did hear some intriguing things. Enough that when a messenger arrived for each hero as they entered the city with the army finally brought back through, bidding them come to the central fortress forthwith, he knew the lot of them were in a heap of trouble.

For his part, as he walked up the steps to the grim castle in the centre of the city, somehow the first one of the group to arrive at the imposing iron gates, he just wanted a sandwich.

[KnightDisciple]

Gabriel came walking up the street, apparently fighting the urge to glance behind himself at the newly-assigned guard force. Of course, they insisted they had "just happened" to all "spontaneously decide" to stick with him. He'd sighed and resigned himself to the soldier being stuck with him. Tarquin seemed the sort who did nothing by half-measures, as the bruises on his ribs attested. He spotted Push and gave the hammer-wielding hero a nod as he ascended the steps himself.

"Any idea what this may be about? I'm getting mixed reactions around town, and all sorts of odd rumbles. Not sure I like not knowing what's going on."

[Dariusprime]

Fulcrum helped out wherever needed. The exact tasks weren't as important as being out there helping. The reverence seemed to make her uncomfortable, but she remained professional and friendly, never taking advantage. She gave willingly of her time, and refused any compensation. After all the soldiers and citizens of this Free City were the real heroes. Her (hopefully) brief visit only lent support to their struggle!

Despite her speed, she wasn't the first hero heading up the steps. In fact the steps were walked just like anyone else. Didn't want to insult their hosts. Spotting Push and Gabriel, she smiled and walked along with them. "How were you afternoons?"

"I don't believe we've met," said Mona as they reached the main gate. She offered him a handshake. "I'm Fulcrum. A pleasure to meet you."

[GranspearZX]

Arcturus still hadn't reverted to his 'natural' form. There didn't seem to be much use in doing so, and for once both the Beast Rune and Marcus were on the same page. It was mostly the magic driving him at that point; he was exhausted and wanted to sleep after exerting himself so much... but the Wolves seemed to have a significantly larger pool of energy.

All he could really do was move the wounded; he knew first-aid, but for a battle like this one, Marcus doubted it would really help. Instead, he tried to help as many as he could before returning to the fortress, the Wolves not too far behind. The more he spoke with them, the less he actually missed his home dimension. Not that he was staying here, of course, but Arcturus couldn't help but like the place.

When he headed back at the messenger's request, he ended up near Push, his broad and furry arms across his chest as he looked down at the kineticist appraisingly. He was too tired to ask the questions he wanted to ask, so instead he looked towards the others. Fulcrum, he remembered from the incident in the city with the dragon, and he'd met Gabriel at the same time he'd met Push. The others, though, were a bit of a mystery, and he couldn't help but notice others' less favorable reactions to Atlas and Scarab... they even seemed to take issue with Push's hammer.

"...there's gonna be food, right?" Arcturus said flatly, keeping his voice relatively low that only those immediately around him could hear him clearly.

[Geez3r]

Atlas for his part was used to hearing less than unkind things whispered behind his back, especially due to recent events, so this wasn't entirely something out of the blue. The only difference was that now Atlas was walking everywhere, instead of jumping or flying. He was drawing enough attention and he didn't want to put the citizens even more on edge. That and the fact that he didn't know the area, and he was pretty sure their building materials wouldn't be able to support his weight after coming down from a long jump. So when the messenger came there wasn't really much for it other than the fact that he could be getting his answers some time soon. After getting directions from the messenger, Atlas headed over to the castle at a brisk walking pace, not wanting to seem like he might attack the castle.

[N/A]

The Scarab called upon a hundred lifetimes of experience to save as many wounded soldiers as she could with the resources at her dispoal. A hundred lifetimes of practice and experimentation had honed her telekinetic prowess to the point where it was a better surgical scalpel than the sharpest blade. But even with her great knowledge and power, her efforts were hobbled. With no means of determining blood types, transfusions were too risky; donated blood could kill a patient as easily as it could save them. Without running water, disposable supplies, or pure enough alchohol, what a 21st-century physician would consider "basic sanitation" was impossible. Even though she was conscious of the danger, there was only so much she could do to prevent possible infection, and it would still be the likely culprit for most of the deaths in the coming days.

After the most critical cases were tended to as best she could, The Scarab asked for access to a private room. She retreated there with the orb she'd captured from the sorcerer leading the troll army, and tore the makeshift canvas cover free. She laid her hands upon the orb, closed her eyes, and touched her forehead to its smooth, glossy surface. [bg=#BF0000]What are you? Who are you? Show me. Show me your past. Your present. Your future...[/bg]

[Quinn]

Scarab's vision was clouded, before a series of images began to appear before her...

The first was a dark room; the Orb sitting in the middle of an arcane circle, surrounded by robed figures who had just completed a chant. Two more orbs sat in circles on either side, and two more sat beside those. The runes and the chants seemed to be similar to ones she'd seen in old tomes back on Earth-Prime, vis-a-vis the creation of scrying crystals. Except in this case, it seemed adapted to something akin to an...assembly line! From what she could understand of the Orb and the processes in these images, it wasn't sentient so much as a tool, and taken away from it's master, or an individual capable of wielding it, was as inert as a paperweight.

The next images were that of the Orb in transit, being carried with it's fellows to different places in what seemed like a great flying fortress; a castle in the air. Some seemed to be given to men in particularly intricate robes, where they were promptly taken out of her range of sight; this one in particular was given to a familiar figure. A tent was opened, and the orb was placed before Alamar, the warlock stroking his chin as he looked at it.

The images, as time passed and came closer to her current time, began to pass faster, become more of a moving picture show, instead of a slide show. She saw Alamar study the Orb, use it repeatedly in battle after battle, using his arcane powers to direct the beastmen slaved to his will, using the Orb to direct an entire battlefield. A useful tool indeed, in the wrong hands. Her knowledge of the arcane served her well in this circumstance, permitting her to understand the nature of the spells he wielded; that the beastman hordes were mostly summoned, save for the rare powerful individual who stayed of his own accord.

Finally a most disconcerting series of images appeared in rapid progression; Alamar, standing on a platform with the Orb before him, staring out over his unit of beastmen that had been conquered in the battle prior. She saw the other reserves marching, his platform floating along with two others, and for a split second her gaze was cast behind the army they'd flattened a mere hour previously, and to...

While it did not entirely dwarf the force they'd fought at the field before the City, it was a damn sight more impressive. An army of beastmen larger and more fearsome than that under the three sorcerers, a force sent to smash and crush all before it. She looked across black and red banners, siege beasts and war beasts and robed sorcerers, and a single huge tower with a throne atop it in the centre. A distant figure sat in that throne, too far for her to See; but she could make out an arm raised, and the forward elements, Alamar and his colleagues' groups, began to march; leaving what could only be their main force behind.

What images remained were slightly more familiar ones, that of the battle on the field. She saw the beastman horde that had been sent ahead camp on the plain, menacing the city with their armed might. She saw scouts poke at the forces on the wall, the occasional skirmish. Then, in the wee hours of the morning that bloody day, the army of the City erupting from the gates to meet the horde in battle. She saw the events of the day unfold from the Orb's perspective, until it came into her possession; and the images ceased as the time of the Orb and her own time came together, with her forehead on the cloudy glass. A knock on the door came at that very moment; and a murmured request for her presence at the Fortress came through the wood. The voice sounded worried, frightened, even. Very odd indeed.

The Scarab had just prepared to turn around and answer the knock when a smiling visage appeared in her mind's eye. Alamar, again. Except unlike the past-Alamar, this one was looking right at her. Then he spoke, and the pain started.

"My. Aren't we inquisitive."

[Quinn]

Push leaned on a handy pillar as the other heroes arrived, one after the other. Gabriel and Fulcrum he greeted with a cheery wave, Arcturus as well. Atlas he simply gave a raised eyebrow to the change in size, then a shrug and friendly wave to him in turn. The post-battle high had worn off completely by now, and he was masking his apprehension over the coming storm, as well as their missing comrade. On an objective level, he appreciated the heads-up from the more experienced hero earlier; it was damn good of the Scarab, and if he and Gabriel hadn't run into Tarquin, it'd have been the only thing that'd have sent them off and running. On a subjective level, namely his own personal opinion, he really couldn't stand psychics. Not out of a sense of hate or anything like that; he wasn't going to start firing blasts at the Scarab when he...she...whatever arrived. But two years of hunting things that not only tried to shred your body, but also your very mind, sense of being, or soul left some imprints. He shook his head, listening to the others talk, and idly watched the guardsmen in the inner courtyard they stood in patrol around.

[N/A]

The Scarab clutched the sides of her heads so hard her knuckles whitened beneath her gloves. She gritted her teeth and growled. Soon, the growling gave way to screaming. She fell to her knees before the crystal ball hovering above the floor. Blood started leaking out from her nose and ears, then her eyes, soaking into the microscopic crevices between the morphic molecules of her mask. She tried to regain her psychic footing, but the mental assault had caught her off-balance. By opening her mind to knowledge, she had also opened it to attack. It was a calculated risk, and one for which she now paid the price.

The Scarab and the crystal both collapsed to the floor. She muttered under her breath as she slipped into unconsciousness. [bg=#BF0000]"More...so many...more...just a vanguard...ten times as strong...on their way...need more time...more...too many...more...."[/bg]

[Dariusprime]

Fulcrum chatted with the other heroes, idly passing the time with small talk and congratulations on their excellent work. Which indeed what fine work they performed! Who else but super heroes could be blindly dropped into an alternate reality and organize so quickly? Damn fine work, and she let them all know it!

Still the delay began to wear on her. Her mind drifted to the realm's familiarity. One name also stuck out rather strongly: Warlord. If this journey was indeed a second tour of the same dimension, that meant they arrived in another Free City. Which meant the "rulers" were a mixed bag, but equally committed to a form of government other than magical tyranny. Which the defenders already mentioned. Those making the big decisions no doubt felt very uneasy with this much "foreign" firepower in their city, friendly or otherwise.

Glancing at the gate, she noticed a pair of heavily armored guard approaching at attention. The portcullis raised, the guards approached, nodded and turned to make their way silently back into the depths of the fortress. Fulcrum turned to her gathered comrades and said, "Looks like we're up."

She noted the lack of Scarab and instead took the lead herself. She strode after the guards, who in fact were moving at a fair pace as they weaved expertly through the corridors of the grand keep. They stopped before massive double doors studded in iron. Doors so large they dwarfed even Fulcrum. One man per side, they began to slowly push the barriers open. Obviously the doors were masterfully engineered to open so easily, but the men still worked mightily.

Wishing to assist them as much as discover more of the situation, Fulcrum swung the grand doors open wide. The guards looked up at her in shock and stood aside. As the others fanned out around her, the giantess strode forth confidently into the throne room. She stopped half across the length, cape whipping up behind her as she stood still, arms at her side and her face a careful neutral. Her gaze rested upon the figure on the throne.

[Geez3r]

Atlas followed Fulcrum in, flanking her right. He had stayed in that half-Atlas form from when he first joined up with the rest of the heroes, putting him a head beneath Fulcrum. It made him different enough to readily stand out from the crowd, without overtly scaring them. That was a skill he was still working on at full size. Atlas made a mental note to ask Fulcrum how she managed it at her full and constant size. He had made a slight modification to this appearance as well, he now wore some slight pieces of armor, a shoulder guard, bracers and shin guards. They were of course purely cosmetic being made out of his own flesh, but he hoped that by wearing armor it showed he could be hurt, and was therefor less of a threat. Worth a try right?

The absence of Scarab was distressing, but he was having a hard time of contacting her mentally, she was probably outside of his limited range, plus with so many unfamiliar minds, he found it hard to pinpoint any one. He made another mental note to perhaps get some lessons from her one of these days. But for now, he put those thoughts out of his head, and tried to focus on the matter at hand.

[KnightDisciple]

Fulcrum's entrance was one of power and grace. Her stature and confident bearing meant that people stopped and took notice.

Atlas's was noticeable, but as much for his unique appearance as anything else. He was clearly trying not to upset anyone present. A protector assuring those he protected that he meant no harm.

Then Gabriel entered the room. He was smaller than the other two; especially noticeable was the difference between himself and Fulcrum. He was an eye-catching figure in his bright white clothing, coat flowing behind him as he confidently walked into this inner sanctum. His face was calm, focused. His very presence seemed to send the air singing.

But not with fear. It was clear this man was here to help, not to harm. To defend, not to destroy.

He strode silently, just a handful of paces after Fulcrum. And then he stood before the throne, and bowed, before speaking up in a voice most commanding.

"We thank you for granting us the audience we sought after. Your city's hospitality is most welcome. What would you speak of with us this day?"

[GranspearZX]

Arcturus wouldn't have considered his entrance particularly flashy or regal. Truth be told, even in his human form, he didn't have a whole lot of use for court formalities or etiquette, and he carried himself like a warrior--the only way he really knew how.

He wasn't wearing much in the way of armor when he'd started, but the Wolves insisted that he look more the part of the fighter he'd proven himself to be. Dark brown greaves and bracers, as well as a heavier piece of leather on his right shoulder held up by a harness on his chest made him look considerably more clothed than when he'd arrived. He strode in, only steps behind Atlas and Gabriel. He was nervous and still ached from the fight, but there was absolutely no showing of uncertainty or fatigue as he stopped behind Gabriel. He bowed only as an afterthought--he saw Gabriel do it and figured it was best to avoid social missteps where possible.