Prologue - The Circle and The City
"A Breezie flaps its wings in Neighpon and the pegasi have to fend off a wild hurricane near Neigh Orleans." -Observations of Natural Weather Phenomena by Steady Forecast, circa 784 Post Nightmare
Beneath the streets and sewers of Paragon City, Rhode Island lay the buried buildings of Oranbega; a civilization shoved underground in ancient times as defense against aerial bombardment by their enemies. The conflict between Mu and Oranbega is one that spanned decades, possibly centuries, even before Socrates made his first profound statement, and one that resulted in the near-extermination of both peoples involved. Oranbega is still a hive of activity to this day, though the population is primarily comprised of specters and demons now. The only people that can be said to truly live there are the Circle of Thorns: a group of people, each infused with a magical 'thorn' that bears the soul of an ancient citizen of Oranbega.
The city was built on top of the heavy concentration of leylines in the area that made it more readily conducive to magical research and experimentation by its people. After sinking the city, these leylines proved invaluable for its people in reestablishing easy transportation between various neighborhoods via portals keyed to only work reliably for residents. In the ancient times of active war, this measure served to ensure that invaders would end up with forces scattered among any number of the hundreds of transportation portals. In modern times, this measure mainly serves to aggravate heroes seeking to track down members of the Circle of Thorns involved in recent thefts or kidnappings.
One of the worst disadvantages for heroes in these tunnels and hidden caverns is that a portal can lead anywhere within the complex, and they are occasionally transported miles away from where they were before with no way of knowing it will happen or not the next time they enter any portal. Such was the fate of Cirrus Sam upon chasing a lowly thorn fire caster through a portal, only to run into a relatively small cavern full of demon behemoths; soul mages; death mages; an archmage of agony; and the Circle of Thorns' leader, Baron Zoria.
More than a dozen pairs of green-glowing eyes turn towards the unfortunate weather manipulator at the sound of the portal's activation, and a shout in the gutteral launguage used to control the ancient devices is all it takes to make the aperture loop back on itself and cut off retreat. Sam quickly summons up a concealing shroud of mist that begins to seep up from the moist floor and walls while running away from the largest cluster of foes and jumping over rocks to try and obscure her exact position. At the same time, she slaps a button on a tiny device on her belt to begin transmitting a retrieval signal for the city's teleporter network as well as a distress signal with her current GPS coordinates.
An alert pops up on the display built into her sunglasses informing her that the emergency teleport beacon has been intercepted by local interference, and she immediately toggles the system to trigger upon loss of consciousness only. A few seconds are taken for her to listen to the sounds of the mages pursuing through her wall of fog before she jumps up a series of rough rock outcroppings on the wall to obtain a better view of the area. A simple gesture redirects her mist generation from being localized around herself to a different area entirely while she bides her time and hides. Once the various mages that were following her fog generation have moved past her outcropping she focuses a gust of wind and leaps for the large central stalactite. Upon making contact with the rock again she wedges herself into a crack that had looked bigger from fifty feet away and begins to do the one thing that every weaker hero hates: wait and hope help comes.
"Baron, glad tidings, the behemoth slaves have finished reconstructing the pieces of the Grand Portal that we have, and one of our informants in the city has located what seems to be the only missing piece in a museum. Soon we will be able to replace the healing and vitality crystals that have been damaged or destroyed by hero incursions over the years. I only hope that we can reestablish contact with Chancellor So-" A backhanded slap amplified with dark magical energy for more force cuts off the bald mage in black robes with gold trim, and he blinks before looking up into the disapproving face of his Leader.
"An outsider infiltrated this room not even an hour ago, and you begin nattering with more information than needed. The behemoths have finished repairing the portal, with the exception of the final piece that has been found in a museum. That is all you should have said since we cannot verify that the intruder has been captured or perished. One more foolish mistake like this and I will extract your thorn so that you are isolated and incorporeal for another hundred years as punishment." Baron Zoria's voice is emotionless, only his choice of words and eyes betraying his fury at the ineptitude his subordinates have displayed today.
"Surely she perished in the fall through the hole Johnson found? There was a fairly feminine scream before the mist started to dissipate, as well as a splash in the lake five hundred feet below. Johnson was impaled on a rock only fifty feet down, so it wasn't him."
"That could have been any number of things falling into the water, and anyone else screaming or ventriloquism. Until we have a body or a prisoner, we assume nothing! Gather a raiding party to retrieve the missing piece, contract some outside help if you like. I have work here that must be completed to ensure we can attune the portal properly."
Author's Note
It's alive! Alive! Mwahahahahaha!
I finally got the right inspiration for revising the entire introduction to the fic, and can proceed in uploading what I have finished!
Blucher!
