Raaie-munt ( pronounced as Raymond)
No matter the change in perspective, I think it's quite funny - laughable even, the vendetta the church has with the witches' cult and the vendetta the cult has with the church. The reason is fairly obvious: as powerful as the church is as an organized group (albeit in terms of numbers, wealth or general influence) the church has no ties to Fillmore other than painting a godly image of him and the cult has weaponized this against them in many ways - the most common of which is referring to the church as the fraudulent church of false gods. It's by far the funniest thing, honestly. Bu~t it does hold some truth to it, that name. Fillmore never interacted with the archbishop or any key figure of the church but he somehow ended up as their god because he is responsible for the current landscapes of the world. For the archbishop and his believers, a dragon altering an existing landmass was proof enough to claim he created it. It's backwards but not to the worst extend. Fillmore is a force of nature. His existence alone inspires reverence, yet the fact that he is somewhat detached raises questions about the legitimacy of the church. Despite the many flaws in the church's religious authenticity it is a vast and great order...one the ancient dragon has shown a constant disinterest in for active rulership. It stands as a united front, stretched densely across the continents and present in nearly every human settlement and bound to the glorious cathedral in Gallican, a structure of great majesty equal to that of the emperor's castle many would argue. Had the church truly any engagement with the divine dragon the witch cult would be no matter of great concern. I myself can confirm this and it is known even by the mother of daughters that she is no threat to Fillmore. The ancient dragon is akin to a comet, blazing hastily across the sky canvas. In comparison to him the head priestess were but a roaring lion. Fierce, yes. Armed with twin sets of teeth aligned side-by-side in rows — but were a comet obsolete in the face of a lion? It is not the endless bickering and quarreling between the cult and the church alone that passes the time. Dungeon culture became as common as second nature to the abhuman races in recent history. Dwarves, elves and humans venture out into dungeons and risk their lives taking that of the demihuman and heteromorphic species. It were profitable, but also engaging. It is a call that many respond to. But dungeon-hunting is not a laughing matter — no, it is not. Not with the wrath of Ekeroth and his frequent hunts out in the dense forests to the south. He doesn't even bother masking his presence (granted he's not in his true form whilst during these hunts, but with the quantity of mana he releases it's not a difficult task to discern who he is). Speaking of the supreme ruler of Babylon, I wager that even now in the wild forests, he is running amok, mana gushing out, laying waste to crowds worth of adventurers that had planned to ransack the dungeons in those forests.
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Satorou Tamura
The bewinter beast is an anomaly known to man as an homunculi, an offshoot of the chimera lineage of magical beasts. The chimera-class however, was firstly manifested after a most interesting discovery. It were through the efforts of a mimic hive faced with certain death in the form of an inescapable opponent that the towering amalgamation of shape-changers (the mimic hive) took on not one collective shape as per usual, but a sum of many because the mimics failed their communications in their panic. Its hive-minded conscious fused into one complete identity unable to revert to the state prior. And born thereafter into this world was a most fearsome species - the chimera.
Mimics were a race of petrifying potential a cat's whisker from their reach. The chimera, their spawn, would in later times prove this statement all the more. Mimics could mirror only the physical traits and attributes of other creatures, not their magics. But with their traits aligned mimics (in theory) could in time acquire those very same skills. After all, magic were something universally accessible in this world even to the "foreigners". It weren't easy to grasp however. Contrary, it were a science. Magecraft were a complex cobweb of laws, functions and equations and additional whatnot. Had the mimic not the intelligence of a rat it would certainly be a nightmare, indescribable in terror to any sword-wielding adventurer or traveling mage. This lonesome disability were overruled by the chimera (not necessarily. Most chimeras still lacked the intelligence).
The bewinter beast, descendant of the chimera race, is a horror inducing mixture of a wingless dragon, horned and coated in a thick layer of snow-pale furred skin (the artic dragon it were called). With the artic dragon at its core and a many sum of minor additions the bewinter beast were no mere threat. It was feared as a walking authority. An apogee amongst prodigies of the chimera species and beyond. Another offshoot, highly intelligent with complex thoughts that ran through its mind no different than an elf, dwarf or human. It were a homunculi. Its form was titanic, I heard in telltales. Awesome - and not in the sense of awe alone but in the sense of fear. It was huge like a bear atop another bear..and than again atop another. I cannot confirm that to be the truth for the bewinter beast that I have in my sights is likely not in its true, soul-crushing form but that of a small, adorable rodent. But even so he emits dense waves of mana, their colors darting far off into the magic spectrum branching of in tints I don't know even existed. The magic spectrum were the core basis of the sciences behind magecraft. Primary colors, primary magics - which separated itself into diluted, more precise and function-specific magics represented of course by secondary colors. At the sight of it I knew he were an authority. No creature stood still in its place at the chill of the bewinter beast's presence but ran, fled fearfully - they voyaged en masse and like massive waves washing ashore the hordes speared themselves away from the source of that dense energy. The stampede vectored the furthest edges of the forest toward, closer to the mountainous regions rich in copper, mana stones and other ores. I know that the ferret-looking furball the size of a cat that stood in front of me were truly, truly a powerhouse amongst the nonhuman races.
"....."
But of course. What else to say when in those shoes. What else than a heavy, slowly-inhaled but hastily exhaled sigh - if of course, that counted as saying something. And maybe, just maybe one word to sum it all up. I threw a glance over my shoulders. Fifteen..? Maybe more? Definitely more. Twenty? Twenty sounds about accurate enough. Twenty lay dead on the spot. Their carcasses dramatically thrown to the earth as a sign of their final defeat. Bodies tall and dwarfed, pale and tanned, fear-frozen faces and primitive medieval craftsmanship displayed as silvertinted sets of paladin armour. The horde lay dead, bodies clad in crest-embroided armour that were pried open and left to drain in the now blood-soaked sand. What word does one even use when confronted by this dread?
".....oh crap..."
Fair choice.
An entire guild's worth of numbers were put to waste by the bewinter beast, not even in its truest form. The monster that's been gaining popularity recently for the violent attacks....is none other than the Ekeroth!? What were it to do to me? I shiver in place as a wave of thoughts wash ashore. What could I even do against one of the twelve lords of Babylon? I mean..what the heck was the archbishop even thinking sending me here!? "Oh it's likely just a horde of hive-minded monsters, not even A rank" I mockingly imitate the archbishop. Damn him! Damn the church! And damn the Dragonessiah!... unless, you know - he saves me? Oh who am I kidding? The church used me like the disposable pawn I was....I should have just stayed in Japan (not like I had a choice). They tatted strange runic sigils across my right arm. They claimed it were an ace-in-the-hole, their automatic win trump card that the council of the archmagi had developed - a multilayer seal of the highest grade that would, upon contact with anything containing mana, seal its mana away. I never understood why that mattered more than the emblem of the hero I was summoned with, even now I don't. I'd figured it was a pretty big deal, but it were discarded and replaced by the seal. It worked perfectly on basilisks and on myself, even going as far as removing the emblem of the hero I initially arrived with, but on a homunculi!? On the most powerful dungeon lord of this world and founder of a kingdom-sized dungeon!? Would it!? The bewinter beast threw me a hard stare and I felt its glare pierced right through me. I transition from shivering to trembling in response. I'm fooling only myself. Even if the seal worked perfectly, I still had to get near the damn thing. Can you imagine, me.. approaching the bewinter beast? I am just a normal human aside from this seal in my right arm because the damn thing sealed my own mana to! I can't cast a single spell now!
"Spells...? What kind of a nonsense is a spell?"
Can you imagine that were the response of the archmagi at the church? When confronted for information about the inner workings of magecraft I mentioned the word "spells" and they seemed genuinely curious about whatsoever a 'spell' could be.
"Do you mean a skill?"
Yes, skill. I couldn't cast a single skill now! The bewinter beast glared at my right arm. Whatever the archmagi had developed under divine order of the church and printed in blood-orange ink on my right arm interested the creature.
And then —
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Ekeroth
Finding some lowly human scum in the forest was nothing outside of my initial expectations. In fact, I've done this hunt several times before as to know what to expect. But even so.... something went horribly amiss this time around. In the recent days my presence is being recognized and the potential threat I pose is finally acknowledged by those of high status in the abhuman societies. They've sent another warband. It were pathetically small in comparison to the orkish warbands I have seen in my years. Of course..I've slaughtered the armoured soldiers, about two dozen of them. Their armoured plates were marked by the church with its crest as believers of the Dragonessiah. Does that mean that this child...this boy were aligned with the church? Is he one of the archmagi? I have never before seen nor interacted with an archmagus — perhaps he is. Although I am forced to admit he doesn't emit what I would imagine is an archmagus' aura. I can barely feel any mana from him - no, wait...I can't sense any mana at all! A concealment!? That precise? And that arm of his...those bizarre sigils. Is it a runecraft? I see the boy. His hair jet-black like the feathers of a crow. No more than 170 centimeters from the soles of his smelling feet to the last hair atop his head. Untanned skin, frail and thin arms... nothing of his image strikes me as archmagus-worthy. I plan my assault. I intend to make it swift. I'll "halt" the functions of that runic combination and strike once I've rendered him powerless! Had this occured as I had wished I hadn't the need to mention that something went noticably different from my previous hunts. After I halt his abilities, at the very least I was sure I did, I launch toward him a stream of pressurized water as if shot out of a cannon. A simple, but highly dependable skill – [water cannon]. My affinity for water-based magics is relatively high, so I was sure the attack was potent. Forceful enough to drill through him like an arrow through leather armor. But he reaches out with his right arm fully extended and grabbed ahold of the attack which somehow caused the mana to dissipate entirely. The hell!? Did he just nullify my attack!? No ordinary boy could just nullify my attacks with as little effort as displayed. He must be a archmagus! But.... he's so young. No older than sixteen I'd argue. He hasn't even been alive long enough to have mastered the sciences of mana to achieve archmagus status..... that's...brilliant! A prodigy, then? The famed Caesar from the noble Astrea household perhaps? I see the boy. His eyes wide in disbelief. Of what I myself am unsure. Perhaps my power, perhaps his. He trembles in place, perspiring and I hear his heart dancing fearfully in his chest.
Y-you're the b-bewinter beast, he claimed as he shivered. His cowardice was a strange fascination. I had imagined him to be more bold with the power he wields. A trap, perhaps? To lure me in a false sense of security?
Who are you? I demand an answer from the man-child. He stuttered a response. But he mentioned his name: Satorou Tamura. Tamura.... Was the name Tamura ever mentioned in the sextet of the archmagi? Never the matter, I intend to end his life here. I sprint toward the boy and —
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Satorou Tamura
Nothing. That was the result of my clash with one of the most powerful entities I've encountered in the four months I've been in this new world. The bewinter beast is supposed to excel in water and ice based magics but when I reached out to that incoming attack out of pure instinct there was... nothing. It worked! The seal of the end worked on the almighty Ekeroth. It almost gets a smile out of me. I felt the corners of my mouth nervously curling. Y-you're the b-bewinter beast, I said. And with that I meant that I stopped an attack from the bewinter beast. The smile faded as I hear a powerful voice.
Who are you?
The voice were deep and heavy and struck me as the voice of my father in a rage. I shriveled.
M-me...? It was a stupid question. There was no one else around. But fear often obscures critical thinking. I-I'm...my n-name is Tamura.. Satorou Tamura...
Tamura, repeated the homunculi in a soft voice as if etching that name into his being. I'm unsure of what to expect from the lord of Babylon. Will he attack me? Will he take me captive or perhaps spare me? In the following moment the creature hastily sprinted toward me, well not exactly. As if known beforehand what actions the bewinter beast would take a quartet of four jump in from in between the trees and pull me out of the way whilst simultaneously avoiding his following attacks beautifully. Their movements were well coordinated and precise. The bewinter beast growled in disapproval to the assailants - ladies all, clad in full leather-wear black as a raven. What business does the witch cult have in these woods, questions the bewinter beast. From the four steps out one. Tanned skin, white hair and a dark aura encircles her.
We have no ill-intent against the lords of Babylon, she speaks. We've only followed the church's men here.
To save them?
To gather information, she swiftly replied. It gets increasingly more difficult to do when you're killing all of them.
The boy is my prey.
Perhaps we can come to an agreement, great one? After all we both are enemies of the church –
The lords of Babylon are enemies to all abhuman races and the boy is MY prey!
The abhuman races are not just humans, dwarves and elves. Vampires and witches are also considered members of the abhuman species..., and those four, likely witches. Thus with his previous statement the bewinter beast has made it clear he has no intention to ally himself with the cult in any way. His fangs exposed, the bewinter beast roared in anger, altering the forest into a glacier in all but an instant and summoning spikes of ice upward from the ground. Each of these were skillfully evaded by the quartet whom dragged me around also, carried me and threw me from one to the other in such a manner that not a single strand of hair atop my head had sustained damage. Again their movements were executed in such a way that it seemed as if they know exactly what would happen.
What!? How!? the bewinter beast's anger was clearly heard in his voice...as was his confusion. I myself am confused at this. Each step was taken with the utmost certainty that the attack had missed. Each action calculated as the appropriate response to that of another. I can all but watch in awe and scream as the attacks miss me by a hair, but missed they all did.
Clara!, the one witch with the tanned skin and white hair shouts the name of another. Now!! By her command we are enveloped in a blackness. Not a single tree nor shard of ice in sight. No sun nor sky. Not even a visible ground. Just black - until that too vanishes as sudden as it is manifested.
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Raaie-munt
I'm miles away from the forest, far behind the shadows of the mountains of ores and mana stones and past the wide valley. And yet I sense his unmasked presence. Ekeroth's mana is unmistakable, pure and wild. He is in rage. I fear the worst. Ekeroth is mighty, but I'm not foolish enough to believe he could best the council of the archmagi on his own. Was he in conflict with the council? Immediately I contact him through the use of a mana stone, refined for the purpose of communication.
Ekeroth! Ekeroth, what has happened!?
I hear his rage through the device. He shouts back at me blinded by his rage. He mentions a strange name, the church and the cult all in one sentence. I can't make out much of it – other than his rage. Something about a group teleporting away. Knowing Ekeroth he is likely to take action... I'm sure he is. As soon as possible. He'll call us to council back at Babylon. Me, the wanderer, the disease...the best of us. I know the actions he'll take before he takes them. He is a simpleton after all. He said to me the following: Raaie-munt, I've ignored the ignorance of the cult for far too long. Why, I question. Have the witches done something? They've interfered in my hunt, he growls back. That....were strange. I can't understand the reasoning behind the cult's interference. They are neck at neck those two, the cult and the church. What would you have me do, I ask this to the lord of Babylon. I hear only his faint breath, nigh silence before he speaks and says to me: are you in the dungeon, old friend? But of course, I reply. Where else would you have me? The outside world is a bore. I'm met with silence once again. Eventually he speaks aloud and demands from me that I summon the other ten lords back to Babylon at once. Ten!!? All of us!!? He wants all of us present!? J-just what the hell happened!!?