The Dusk Wood

"I am finally reunited with a small faction of my people, and you suddenly are here among them - you called upon them, as you said. You claim to be something from the very beginning of our people - I struggle to hold that to anything concrete. I do not trust you, I will not trust you. If the rest of the Houses will hold some faith in you, I stay my sword unless you give me clear reason to do otherwise - for I promise you, you prove to be using Aaedan or her people for some ill goal in your mind, nothing will stop my blade next time."

This brought a very vicious sneer that bared her teeth as Krahen continued to stare down the woman. Her left hand was toying with her sword hilt more aggressively now.

"You lied to all of them, and admit only to me? Or perhaps you are looking to drive a wedge between my people, the Houses, and myself while there is this gap already in place - and planting false information. The Architects are fabled myth of our beginnings, and even if they once existed they could not have merely lived the ages between their era and now. Besides... you don't look as if you've worked a day in your life - much less erected the city.

"Do note I am growing tired of your words, seeing as there is nothing but pure boast and lies and falsehoods in them," she snarled, bracing her feet as if preparing for a fight. Things didn't seem to be getting any better.

The moment she noticed some sort of change initiating, her blade rang from the scabbard and remained poised at the shifting mage before her. What stood in her place after the transformation made her waver slightly, though she was extremely uncertain now.

The words fell on ears that could not comprehend, and Krahen began to wonder what was really going on right now. Was this... truly an Architect of old? Or had the magic of the dragon guardian of the Mana Tree not worked and her delusions return tenfold? Granted, there was no whispering in her head right now...

She swallowed hard as she awaited... something. She didn't know what. But she was frozen in place for the moment.

Krahen was quiet for a while as she tried to process everything that was going on before her eyes. Considering the very malleable presence of arcana present about Maxia, it was... it was very much possible she was an original Architect. Even the other houses didn't possess magic this potent or wield it this easily.

It was rather terrifying to think of, really. Despite how her pride didn't want to give in, she had to wonder how close to death she had come when she attempted to attack.

Again, she swallowed hard the lump in her throat before she found her voice. Her sword lowered a little ways, no longer pointed defensively at Maxia. "... You have my sword. I will follow. I will help. But I hope you understand if I still doubt your word on what you are. And that I will continue to hold you in uncertainty moving forward until I am sure of you..."

And what was she to make of that? She had a feeling none of the Houses would listen to her anyways if she even tried to speak of the knowledge she had been given today. Her eyes glanced up to the hovering ring of magic above her head, before looking to Maxia again.

"And where will you send me, Xel'danian?" she huffed.

Krahen could only nod in agreement - she had been the initial individual that brought her out here to begin with. And she held a bit more respect for Tania and her deeds over the individuals of the houses that she was unfamiliar with. At least, this was her view after the fall of their city.

A notable amount of time later....

In a distant part of the Dusk Wood, the ground begins to shake, as the air around it begins to steadily rise in temperature. A terrible orange-red gash appears in space, hovering a few inches off of the ground. Fetid, burning gas and air pours from the portal, blanketing the surrounding area in a thick miasma of a most infernal disposition.

Yet a few moments later, forms begin to emerge from the portal. Twisted half-humanoid, half-canine beasts spill out in droves, running around the surrounding area. Their orange, glowing eyes search, scanning every conceivable nook and cranny for any sign of intruders, noses checking every scent and trace for past or present foes. A moment later the pack of creatures still, one emitting a shrill roar directed toward the portal.

The portal pulses as if replying, and another pair of creatures emerge from it; vast, almost gigantic hounds, step from the portal, pacing around it and growling at the pack-members assembled before them. The canid-humanoids bow their heads in submission, wordlessly communicating their progress to their overlords. The two hounds sniff, and take up stances beside the portal.

And then; he comes.

The massive figure of Lord Rivadis, Father of Hellhounds and Lord of the Fourth Ring of the Hells, steps out from the portal, footsteps thudding against the ground. He looks over his assembled children, gaze sweeping over the dismal, abandoned forest grounds around them. Rivadis grunts.

"Meh. Mortal worlds. So colorless and bland." He raises a hand, snapping his fingers. A small flame appears in his palm. "Lay the circle foundations and bring what we need here," he says in a distracted tone. "I'm going to go for a walk."

Rivadis begins slowly ambling forward, flame in his hand growing brighter. The two larger hellhounds follow behind at a short distance, the rest of the pack resuming their movements. They run about, clearing small amounts of ground. A few of the creatures dive into the portal and emerge with large bags, beginning to lay lines of white mineral salts in seemingly random configurations around the area.

Rivadis strides forward, walking up a small hill (his sheer size uprooting nearby trees and greenery), his twin guard-hounds following behind. He stops at the top of the hill, looking out over a large portion of the forest.

The hounds are working.

The lines of the circle begin to glow a deep brown hue, as the crystals rattle and shake. The sky seems to darken, as a sense of.. Unease, takes over. The hounds would back up in fear, or perhaps bark. A portal opens through the scorched ground, and through it flies a demonic figure. With long, dark wings, bronze golden horns and armor, grey-blue steely skin, and massive talons, the figure snarls, as it flies, flapping it's wings in the air. In one hand it has a long spear, tipped with a green gem. Nharkotep hisses loudly.

"What do you want, Rivadis?"

Nharkotep chuckles. "My brother is a fool, and has been for centuries. Tell me, if I was planning a rebellion, what would you do?" The avian demon taunted, casually flying around the circle. "Kill me? We all know I would put you down like the mutt you are. And do you think that anyone can stand to Khorne?"