Unclassifiable OPEN Genesis Gate

IC: Valynor Syndoriel
Constitution Test, Evaluation Chamber

The elf heard the Baron speak the words: “Begin.”

The Evaluation Chamber seemed to fade away...

Valynor’s had made his decision and his mind was already made up. He could not fail here. Within himself, in that moment, many realizations became crystal clear. Arcanes were possessed of great constitution. All the Great Mages were. Did they not cast spells that could eclipse the sun, raise volcanoes, cause the sea to rise and submerge entire cities, sink islands, cause hordes of armies to fall into depthless chasms? Had Sylvanor not done all these things?

Some spells were even so powerful, that they caused the lesser races to age both drastically and dramatically. Indeed, constitution was a core component of Arcanes, as much as it was for warriors.

Clearly, he was no orc, nor was he a mountain of a man like Arthur, but he was as child of Valar, he could draw great power from unknown places- at least enough for him to triumph here.

And so, Valynor regarded his green mat, imagined a great verdant field, closed his eyes, and began to sing to himself. He would sing a song of the elves, one that he somehow knew, and could draw strength from. His body would suffer and endure mundane rigors, but his mid would be focused and at peace.

So blessed were the Valar that they could all sing so effortlessly, so too could their children and their children’s children, for all generations that followed.

Indeed, Valynor willed himself to last until the end of the song, and this would be enough.

 

THE JAM
The Wisdom Test​

"NOTHING ON THE JAM IS LITTLE...LITTLE MAN!! JAM IS BIG TIME...ALL THE TIME!"

Though, the little man in the dumb armor had a point.

He started to look around the room. Nothing.

Nope...Pretty Elf boys...The Small Baron...

The plank mats...Where the Jam had dominated his competition and became the source of all envy.

He smiled. Yea...he TOTALLY had wrecked the puny competitors at that one...

There was a green...maybe yellowish figure shouting at the elf girls...with a dominant red cape. Now THATS how you rock a cape, Jam thought.

The weights. Oh... the weights. This brought a surge of intensity and happiness to the iconic orc's blood. THAT was where he would show off his strength. THAT was where he would show the real difference between him and the others. THAT...

Was where he found the first yellow flag.

The roar of laughter began in his ripped abs, worked its way up to his broad, chiseled chest, before exploding from his mouth.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I HAVE FOUND ONE! YOU, LITTLE ARMORED ONE, YOU ARE HELPFUL INDEED!"

The Jam noted the flag on his tablet and lumbered over to Patriarch. He was taller than the man, so the Jam tried to get a peek at Patriach's tablet. After all, Galbatos...Galba...trix? Whatever the man's name was did not say that Jam had to find the flags himself.

Though this was clearly implied.

"LITTLE ARMORED PATRIARCH, I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK!"

Tag: @spacelady @Darth_Elu @Shadowsun​

 

The Patriarch
Unending Curiosities

The very first to react after his question, hoping to lead them to the next phase of their ‘orientation,’ was Grimble. And the reaction he gave was one that he hadn’t expected. From what he had gathered from others, he wasn’t the first to react this way. He was in a minority, but it did happen. The Baron had been warned of the possibility, but he was forced to admit to himself now that he had mostly waved such a suggestion off. Perhaps with the normal recruits, but not the dreamer elite!

Here the truth stared at him whether he wanted to accept it or not. This statement was also just as objectively true in the reverse for the poor, wayward gnome.

The weakness of it all galled at him. The display was pathetic, truth be told, but it had to be tolerated. No matter how this Mr. Crumble came to be identified and recruited, he was here all the same. Which meant there was potential there. They needed to unearth it. The most surprising thing was the fact that a decent amount of memories were already surfacing, but that too had been told to the Baron. It was quite rare, but sometimes a recruit held onto partial memory recollection. Not all, but far more than others.

Possible progress in fixing that little glitch in the genesis process? Something to be seen, if it could be expanded upon.

In any event, internal investigations could be launched later if need be.

“No…no…that’s not true! That’s impossible!”

Quinn just watched silently.

“I-I’ll never be able to taste at the annual chutney competition ever again! Why would you pick me? A humble gnome from his home, compared to the Jam? Why not two Jam thingies? Why me?!”

Why indeed? He might have cut in at this moment, but Grimble wasn’t done just yet.

“I would rather live in one’s dream in blissful ignorance, where all was normal and fresh, rather than be alive in this cold dump! I will not ‘grab life by the horns’, sir! I demand to return home! This must be some propaganda ploy to make us give up our old lives! Take me back!”

A hint of defiance at the end. Maybe a small spark to be worked on after all? Who knows, who knows. The Baron sighed, rubbed the temple of his head, and replied.

“Hmm. I’m afraid I can’t quite answer as to your exact identifier. I was not in charge of that myself, but I trust the one that heads that.”

He straightened here and looked at the gnome, with a rather hard expression on his face. The defiance, which was nice to see, would have no effect on him nonetheless.

“Of course you prefer your old life to the current one, right now, Mr. Crumble. But that is only because you’ve yet to actually see what we have to offer, now have you? You don’t honestly think this stone room is all there is to this city, do you? I sure hope not.”

Here he marched right up to the small man, towering over him like a mountain.

“You wish to go back? I’m afraid there’s only one way, as of now. Help us and you will see the Omniverse. Out there, the land you dreamed of is likely existing in reality. Or even one better, who knows.”

He crouched down to stare back at him, eye to eye. The Baron’s eyes drilled into him as implacably as any stone goliath.

“Find it. Get home. Prove to us and yourself you deserve to sample the annual chutney competitions you crave. Do that and you will feel rewarded beyond your wildest dreams. Of that, I guarantee. You help us, we provide transportation through the Omniverse, together we get you home. But all on your own determination and strength.”

The Baron stood up again, eyes still boring down on him. “Stature isn’t everything, right? Show us.”

With that he turned to let the gnome seep in his own thoughts, taking in his words. It was time to see how the others were reacting. If they had any further questions. The way it was appearing…they did not with the exception of one.

"If we refuse to fight for you, what then?"

So one of them had the presence of mind, and the guts, to ask. Quinn could appreciate that. Moving over to the Patriarch again, he folded his arms casually and eyed him quietly for a moment. Weighing the question, but also feeling out exactly where he was going by asking it in the first place.

"Hmm. I hope you do, we need the help as I said. But, if you choose not to, you'll be cleared by the one who oversees the analysis of the Plane of Dreams and then allowed to enter Shadow's Reach as a normal citizen."

Here a little grin presented itself on his face.

"Not what you were expecting, I am sure. No death sentences or cold shoulders, just acknowledgment. Granted, there would be limitations upon travel to and from the city if you are not a formal member and any potential for growth in power will be severely stunted. If you care about that sort of thing."

He allowed his gaze lock with the masked man for a few moments, letting him take in the gravity of his words before he went to confirm that no one else had any others to add. They did not. Wapoe even outright stated he was ready, which was a nice verbal acknowledgment.

A rather surprisingly benevolent answer. The masked man contemplated his words. It seemed he did not have much of a choice, the life of an ordinary citizen was not for him, although he appreciated he had the choice and was not being forced into a sort of indentured servitude.

The lure of infinite knowledge beckoned to him. To refuse it would be sheer madness. He would fight for this council. Not because he had to, or out of any sort of feelings of obligation, but to obtain power for himself.

The Patriarch met Quinn's gaze. His sky blue eyes seemingly burning with delight, then he simply stated:

"Very well, I am ready"

It was time for the next phase!

Taking the lead of the group once more, he motioned for them all to follow behind him.

“Hmm. Then let us proceed, shall we.”

His boots once more rapped on the floor, their own footsteps now heard as well for the first time as they came behind him. An echo persisted in this room where the so-called Genesis Gate continued to simply exist in its magical white vapor-like state, indifferent to all else around it.

Moving past the pillar they came into the next section of the three-part chamber, mostly open and unused. There was more of the Genesis Gate vapor portal in the back, but it seemed not to be needed in their case.

The Baron kept moving across the room to the right corner where a door awaited. Not far from the door, to its left, was a round ornate table made of pure silver. Not large, but still of decent size. Expertly crafted and very much contrasting with the dullness of its surroundings. On it was a large tray of flute glasses that held some kind of pastel yellow liquid. Here Quinn paused, as if nearly forgetting, but noticing at the last moment.

“If any of you still feel a little low on energy, these potions will restore your lost vitality and vigor. We want to see you at your peak performance during the tests, after all. Nor do I imagine any of you liking that sluggish feeling if indeed it does persist.”

Quinn allowed any who wished to take the glasses to do so, only further adding: “From what I understand, they taste like lemonade.”

When done and the glasses returned to the tray, he would nod and turn to swing open the door, moving through at his normal brisk pace. It would take only seconds for the potions to take effect, just as described.

The Patriarch pondered whether to partake of the strange yellow liquid or not. While not one to freely give out trust, Quinn's frank and honest replies to his questions had deemed him a semblance of that word. He observed the others that began to drink the peculiar liquid.

He saw no reason there would be an alternative motive to this liquid, if they had one they could find far more sneaky methods to do so. They had quite literary given them life after all.

He took a flask sipping it slowly, savoring the taste. Lemonade? He would like to more know about the properties and ingredients involved in this potion. He did indeed feel more invigorated.

Setting the glass down the Patriarch followed the Baron and the others through the door.

They progressed into a ten foot wide corridor and kept moving. There was immediately another door to their left, but evidently it was not important to them right then as the Baron swept past it without the slightest glance. The corridor bent to the diagonal left for a moment before straightening again. Off to their right they would pass by the silver doors of a lift, or elevator. Something this group would largely not recognize, judging by their dream worlds’ evident makeup.

Another large door would be on their left and with his present speed and purpose, the Baron meant to move right along….

Except it swung open first and he had to come to a halt, a frown on his face. It disappeared at the sight of the one coming out. Instead he settled into a grin.

“Ah! Red! What are you doing here?”



The thing seemed to float just ever so faintly above the ground and what appeared to be its head, starting from the black round…discs?…turned to face them. Its protruding, glowing, yellow eye stared at them all. It went down and then back up once as if taking the sight in completely.

And then it spoke in a staccato voice, sounding like nothing they had ever heard. Dream or not.

“Baron — Quinn. I have—been looking for — you.”

“Hmm. You already have a report ready for me?” The Baron smiled, “Efficient. I’m impressed as usual, Red.”

Even with its strange voice, its distaste could clearly be gleaned as it replied. “A Dalek does not — need to report — to you! I am merely — passing along compiled — information, as requested by — the Supreme Dalek!”

Quinn held up a hand as if in a half-shrug and did a small mock bow, likely annoying the crimson Dalek further.

“Of course. Thank you, Red. However,” he turned to glance at those assembled behind him before turning back to the one ahead of him, “Send it to me remotely or wait a few hours. I’ve already begun the orientation.”

There was a moderate pause as the Dalek seemed to take this in and consider the situation at hand. Obviously it had intended to ignore whatever Quinn had planned otherwise and simply hand him the report (or “compiled information”) whether he wanted it then or not. But ‘the orientation’ seemed to strike a chord, making it back up slowly.

“I see. It seems — I am not at a good — time. I shall send it — remotely, as suggested. The — Supreme Dalek wishes — to know if you have — any further requests.”

“Not at this time,” Quinn replied. Slight annoyance was starting to creep in, but he did his best not to show it.

With this, the thing completely turned around and quickly glided down the corridor; the door at the other end simply whisking open to the side, and passing through without any further talk.

Scratching his head, the Baron murmured to himself and shut the door the Dalek had opened. If any had peered inside, they would have notice what would have appeared to be a rarely used meeting room.

“Sorry about that. A subordinate of mine…hard to deal with that one. Couldn’t ask for a better or worse one than him. At any rate, let us move on. We have a schedule to keep.”

They continued down the corridor, seemingly following after ‘Red,’ passing both a bronze suit of armor to their right and another door leading to another unknown room to their left. The door ahead slid open to the side, just as they had seen it done for the Dalek a minute before.

Passing through the door put them in a larger space. A much noisier space. The area seemed vacated of others at the moment, but clearly they were on a stone street now. Three more large pillars lay ahead, another street seemed to lead off to their left where most of the noise was coming from.

The noise was that of any city. Any who might have once been in such a setting in their past, while not remembering, would instinctively feel right at home. Those who didn’t might be a little put off, but potentially curious.

Above them was the orange and yellow colored evening sky, one that for any who had magical backgrounds in their dream lives would instantly recognize as being magical in nature. Was it a magic they knew? Impossible to say, but instinct drove them to make the connection. Otherwise it would seem as real as any other sky.

A seemingly large building, almost like a round temple in architectural style was to their immediate right, they could just barely make out numerous domes up top around the edges of the roof. The evening light glinted beautifully off of them. Its height was impressive at a good six stories.

The Baron had paused here for a moment, knowing full well the effect. But it was only for a few moments, then he pressed on and expected them to follow without getting too caught up. He moved ahead going to the right of the pillars, each distanced about twenty to thirty feet from each other. Maneuvering them around the perimeter of the temple structure, he came to the front of it. Six more pillars seemed to be lined about thirty feet from it, thirty feet in between each with the exception of the middle two where it seemed more like sixty feet.

Going between those pillars would lead down another street where other buildings and people could be spied operating as any normal person would. Already they would notice differing genders, ages, and species among them. But for now, they were not the aim of their march. Neither was the street that continued to wrap around the temple. No.

Baron Quinn turned them to face the temple building itself. Its full size was on display. Its mostly rounded shape being six stories high and roughly three hundred and fifty feet in diameter. Also on display was its double door entrance. Both doors of solid gold and thick steel frames, whose shine rivaled each other. Standing before them were two guards.

The appearance of which just might take them aback.



Steel from head to toe, glowing red eyes, and menacing weapons in their hands of some type that few of them would recognize. Yet the lethal black rifles glinted just as warningly as their eyes. Their whole visage clearly denoted figures not to be messed with.

The Baron seemed not to even notice. He just plowed forward without a care and they parted for him and the following group in sheer, eerie silence after knocking backwards on the gold doors the moment he approached.

The Patriarch inspected from a distance the thing named 'Red' a curious design, clearly mechanical, but what was that? The faint tinge of some biological aspect. What were those two appendages protruding from its metal casing? If the Patriarch did not know better he would of guessed they were a toilet plunger and a kitchen whisk.

How odd indeed, but yet again it seemed The Patriarch did not have time to divulge into questions. Oh how many were building up. Not to mention what the contents of this report were.

The armored man made a mental note of the word Dalek, before continuing to follow the group.

Ah sounds The Patriarch recognized, although not sure where he remembered them from, the sounds of the city. Noises that he had unknowingly missed. He gazed upon the architectural wonders with the faded curiosity of a child.

It was not long before the next quizzical item presented itself. The metal humanoid walkers certainly caught The Patriarch off guard. Although he was perhaps less surprised by their existence than the others gathered. The concept of a robot was not foreign to him, but one self sufficient was.

They do not have a pilot? Or perhaps it is remote somehow? No they seem to completely independent. I wonder if I.....

He was unable to finish his thought as the Baron continued to charge ahead. So many fascinating toys... Slightly annoyed he did not have the time to tinker with the robots, nevertheless he followed Quinn up toward the golden doors. He was eager to learn what these tests would be.

The doors parted as Quinn strolled through them and into the magnificently giant chamber within. A long raised dais dominated the center, with a gigantic gold statue of some symbolic king, Warhammer in hand. Four similarly massive columns stood at equal points in the chamber, simulating the corners and keeping the structure secure. Ringed around the edges were smaller dais’ that might have once held statues that were, for one reason or another, removed at an earlier date. The ceiling was one flawless fresco depicting the night sky, subtle depictions of dragons could be seen dotted here or there, and there were two outstretched hands reaching for each other on either end of the exquisite artwork. It must have taken a long time do, with palpable financial backing mixed with clear appreciation of the fine arts.

Quinn marched up the steps to meet with a few other individuals of seemingly high importance, before turning to signal them all to stop before the steps near the center of the chamber.

“Welcome to the Evaluation Chamber, ladies and gentlemen. Go ahead and relax just a moment longer, while I discuss a few final details with my colleagues here. In just a moment, I will be splitting you up into seven teams to take part in the seven tests we will be having you undergo, rotating between them.”

With that he turned to face the six other people on the dais with him. Including Quinn, there were six men and one woman among them, speaking in quieter yet brisk tones. Each was very notable in their own way, possessing an aura all their own, much like the Baron. Four of the men would possess extremely potent auras, far surpassing Quinn for those in tune with such things. But more on them in a bit.

Around them were seven clearly made ‘stations’ for their imminent assessments.

On a small round table not far from one of the giant pillars to their right would be a few odd square objects placed upon it. Electronics of some kind, not that it was likely many of this group would recognize them.

Similarly, by the giant pillar to their left would be five colored mats about seven feet long set on the floor all next to each other, ready for who knows what.

Also to their left, between two of the giant pillars, were five more small individual tables each with a single chair before them. A pile of…something…was on each table, waiting for them.

Past that and not far from the left most wall were five thinner pillars that were only about ten feet tall set in a line. They had clearly been set there and not part of the original architectural plan, so it was a station of some sort.

Opposite of all this, to the right, close to that wall was a series of twelve different weights. Clearly a strength evaluation was to be held in that area when they got started.

For those who were particularly perceptive, in the far upper right corner, beyond the giant pillar in that direction was a circular ranged target, or boss for those who knew their archery terms, sitting in wait. Looks like anyone with experience with a bow might get to demonstrate their skill shortly.

For now, they could simply wait for Baron Quinn and the others to finish their conversation and take it all in. The wait for the tests was just about over.

The Patriarch surveyed the evaluation chamber, allowing himself to soak it all in. He looked at the various stations curious as to what they all where. Some where obvious. A strength test of some kind with the weights and some sort of sharpshooting test with ranged target, the others were less clear. No use wasting time theorizing he would find out soon enough.

Seven people, seven stations, seven tests. He paced around, slightly impatient that he had to wait around for Quinn to finish conversing with the other examiners...

Well, this is certainly intriguing. The Patriarch could sense some immense power from the group gathered, oh he had to go and just say hello...wait, wait, patience is a virtue after all is it not?

As the seven people in charge of the group’s evaluations continued to converse, they did note the idle chatter amongst some of the potential ‘elite.’ Or those who chose to remain quiet and simply take in everything around them. A few even walked around a bit, to get a better view and attempt to increase their chances of predicting what was to come. One of whom even ended up meditating in preparation. And there was another who attempted to shame the group on forcing physical interactions at such an early stage in physical existence. This was all noted silently.

They were just finalizing their exchange when suddenly some loud exclamations shook the whole room, especially since the orc’s voice was amplified via moderate echo. There was some momentary wincing, with Baron Quinn letting out a sigh immediately afterward. He should have known…

“NOW WE’RE TALKING!!”

A brief question from one of the orc’s companions had him once again roaring aloud for all to hear.

“THE JAM IS ALWAYS READY! IF THEY WANT TO SEE A TRUE TEST OF STRENGTH, THE JAM REQUIRES MORE THAN JUST THESE PUNY WEIGHTS!”

The seven instructors, as such as they were for the time being, finally all turned their eyes to gaze at Jam. It looked like he was the first one to truly gain their notice. Universally even. Perhaps not in the manner he wished though.

“SMALL BARON…THE JAM DID NOT COME TO WAIT! THE PEOPLE WANT TO SEE THE SHOW. THE JAM. BRING IT ON!”

There was a terse pause here. Then, amidst themselves, the woman whispered with an amused grin on her face. Her gaze was resting squarely on Quinn, who met it with annoyance. He knew what to expect from her by now as they finalized their little chatter.

Hefting another brief sigh, Baron Quinn turned to approach them again, a little smile once more in place. This time the other six began to move toward their respective stations in preparation behind him.

“Hmm. It seems you are all ready. Very good.”

He surveyed them all carefully for a brief moment, just taking a few last second mental notes from what he saw before letting his southern drawl roll over them once more.

“Here are the teams I want you all in…”

From there he announced them all into teams of five, but among the most notable of the individuals assembled, they had been put together like this:

Ayira, Jam, and Patriarch. They were first sent to the area to the pillar in the lower left of the room, with all the mats set beside it.

Valynor and Jo’Sua. They were first sent to the area behind the giant golden king toward where the archery target was situated.

Irryn, Charjra, and Grimble. They were first sent to the area that was just to the left of the center. The individual tables and chairs, with the pile of…whatever it was upon each table.

Arthur, Dusty, and Wapoe. They were first sent to the far left of the chamber, where the five thin columns were in evidence.

*****
The Constitution Test

They came upon the colored mats surrounding the large pillar in the lower left section of the chamber that had been set up for some reason or another. It wasn’t far from the central dais, so it didn’t take long at all to get there.

The one waiting for them as their first overseer was none other than:



Baron Quinn.

“Hello again, everyone,” he greeted amiably and he paused his station intro long enough to look at the orc among them, “It is time for this ‘show’ of yours now.”

Quinn swept his arm over to the rubber exercise mats, gauging everyone’s reactions with a glint in his eye.

“My area is perhaps the simplest of them all, if I’m honest. I’m testing your endurance and since this is your first day, we’re keeping it as simple as possible. Just enough to get a starting idea of where you are all at. Show me your best.”

He moved to one of the mats, a red one, and got into a proper plank position while craning his neck over to look at him.



“This is called the ‘plank’. It is a type of exercise position and it is great for the fundamental purpose of learning endurance, in my opinion. Now, please, each of you find a mat and do as I am.”

He stood up and readjusted himself, motioning for everyone to get a move on with an easy smile and another nod toward the mats.

“May look silly, but please indulge me, if you will. I hear most first timers surprise themselves by lasting only a minute and half or so. Get into position on your hands and knees when you are ready. When all are in correct position, I shall tell you to start and will time how long each of you last. Think of it as your first friendly competition among comrades, hm?”

The Patriarch groaned slightly as the teams were announced. The prospect of being paired with Jam was not a welcome one. He had an unnerving feeling the boisterous orc would continue to make himself a nuisance. He strode over with the group contemplating the surroundings as he strode over to the first with the mats.

If the masked man could raise an eyebrow he would. To bend himself on all fours like some common animal, it was unbefitting to say the least. He tilted his head as he continued to listen. On the other hand from their perspective it made sense, a complete diagnostic on all their abilities was the logical thing to do. More information was never a bad thing.

The Patriarch complied, slowly bringing himself down to his knees as he assumed the position described by Quinn. He eyed Jam and Ayira, sure that they would last much longer than him. He grimaced, and waited for the indication to begin.

Jam was the first one to reply and act, as Quinn had now come to expect of him. He, along with everyone else whether they liked it or not, listened to his renewed laughter abound throughout the chamber.

Lets see. What would his next boast be?

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Small Baron…Your abs are soft, like a infant’s bottom. And this little girl…is no competition to Jam. Why you ask?”

The Baron simply clasped his hands behind his back, knowing full well the orc would answer his factually unasked question. His face however, was starting to become a little stony. The abs comment, while simple braggadocio, was starting to get a bit close to ‘the line.’ More due to frequency than anything. Nevertheless, he had to keep things moving along and just brushed it off. It would be interesting to see how the other instructors would handle him.

“BECAUSE…THERE…”

And there came the flex. Yes, how very typical of his type. Still, Quinn wouldn’t deny the flair of it all. It had its uses, he couldn’t deny that.

“IS…NO ONE…THAT COMPARES…TO THE JAM’S PLANK!!!!”

And just like that he slammed down into an admittedly perfect plank on his chosen mat. Evidently, he was ready. Would anyone be up to the challenge of trying to outdo him? Time to see.

"For the COREEE!!!”

Hmm. That statement…coincidence? Probably not. Best just to leave it.

“Lets hope you don’t go embarrassing yourself then, Jam,” Quinn replied dryly, the hint of a small smile on his face. “Wouldn’t be a good look.”

Looking at the others, he saw them all shaking their heads and getting into position on their own mats. Ayira and Patriarch among them. She in particular looked rather fed up with her showman of a group-mate. Exactly why he had placed them together. Her plank position was excellently done he noted before helping the others in their group just briefly. A good start.

Patriarch didn't appear too thrilled with the prospect, but for the time being, there wasn't much choice in the matter and he understood that. Quinn nodded to him before talking to them all.

“With the exception of our 'Mighty Jam' whose already started, the rest of you may now begin.”

The Baron pulled out a pocket watch and made a show of timing them, pacing back and forth in front of them all.

“Come now, lets see how long you all last.”

Tick…tock…

The Patriarch rolled his eyes at Jam's outburst.

Of course, just of course.

He raised himself up to some semblance of a plank. He looked towards Ayira and Jam, their form seemingly impeccable.

Strange... this was easier than he had expected.

He glanced over his own form, making sure he was in the correct position. Which it was not. His behind was too high, making the exercise much less stressful on his core. After about five seconds or so he corrected this, slightly embarrassed at his error.

Ah yes, now he could feel it.

The weight of his armor bore down on him, as his sweat formed an uncomfortable layer quickly his 'skin' and the cloth undergarments. It had been barely thirty seconds before he began to shake and quiver. According to Quinn new timers only lasted about a minute and a half, intriguing about the average for a human female. He raised his head again surveying the room to amuse himself.

He glanced over to the other two, their form still strong and formidable. He tried to take his mind off things by thinking about magic, books, anything to distract him. To no avail, he quickly collapse under the weight of his armor and his lack of core muscles, unable to even muster an average time to hold a plank. He lay on the ground, exhausted and annoyed from his 'display of endurance'. He picked himself up and watched the rest continue with the examination. Curious to see whether Jam or Ayira would last longer.

The Baron merely watched as Jam and Ayira began to verbally spar in their endurance match. Good. That was encouraging. It seemed like the woman was trying to throw the boisterous orc off balance in a sense. Who knew if it would work. Both seemed rather competent at this station, which pleased him.

Endurance was the mark of a truly great warrior. At least in his personal opinion.

Patriarch however, had already fallen; and within quick succession of each other, two others had done so as well. It was just the first two mentioned now.

"Hmm...Endurance is not the greatest asset for everyone, but I am sure your strengths will reveal themselves soon enough," Quinn stated toward his masked individual within his group.

As for other two? Given his nature, perhaps it would be best, to give them a little extra push.

Strolling up to the two of them, he smiled.

“Now, now, Miss Ayira. Careful not to lose focus by trying to provoke your group-mate here,” a devious smirk splayed across his face, “And with that said…”

He sat on the orc’s back quite abruptly. “Perhaps one should be careful what they also say from other quarters.”

Despite the claims, they had gone through the genesis process and only today had received true bodies. Their stamina and endurance may still be great, but it was likely nowhere near what little they remembered. So he knew that Jam had to be feeling it now, especially with him perched on his back so casually, even if he'd never admit it openly.

Then again. So was Ayira from what he could tell. All a matter of time now. All a matter of time.

“Don’t mind me now, just keep going,” he replied nonchalantly.

After a time, Ayira laughed at the Baron's tactic but then tried to catch herself only for her to backfire as she collapsed to the mat at last herself. Second place. Clearly not what she had hoped for, but the end result nonetheless. She proceeded to stand fuming and glaring at the Baron's back and in the direction of the orc he had managed to hop off of in time.

Quinn didn’t notice the ever narrowing eyes of Ayira as he was too busy at the moment watching Jam laugh in victory and tumble down to the mat at last because of it. He certainly felt it however. The young woman certainly had a presence to her. That was for certain.

Absolutely marvelous.

Watching the orc stand up and briefly hearing the girl finally turn away after a barely heard sigh, the Baron allowed himself to withstand one last barrage of the boasts. Then again, this time they were earned. A much different reality.

“MUAHAHAHAHAA. VICTORY IS JAM!! Defeat is a dish best served…with a side of JAM!! WHAT IS NEXT! WHAT IS THE NEXT CHALLENGE THAT THE JAM WILL CLAIM VICTORY IN? STAY TUNED YOU MORTALS!”

An interesting choice of words, in every manner, there. Quinn opened his mouth to speak when the ringing throughout the chamber made itself known. Pulling out the rectangular device from his pocket, like the other evaluators were doing at the same time, he used a few movements of his fingers to silence the sound and then input the last bit of information from his current group.

Looking up he smiled. “Well, time to answer that very question. Congratulations Jam, but let us see if you can keep it up. Perhaps one of the others will do better at the next test…”

The orc was almost certain to want the strength test next, it was obviously the one he was looking forward to the most. Indeed, on the opposite side of the chamber, all the weights from a diminutive 2 pounder to 70 pound one that had a little yellow flag hanging off the side of it for some reason, and even up to a few more weight above that…all lay beckoning to him and other strength-minded aficionados.

Unfortunately, he pointed just a ways away to the group of tables not far from the central dais. The strength training would have to wait. Something else was in store next.

“Which is right over there. Move along now, ladies and gentlemen. Good luck to you.”

*****
“Hello everyone. I see you’ve got some high energy in this group.”

Xanatos stood with his hands clasped behind his back in front of the table as his second group approached him. He had a comfortable and confident smile to him, his full posture showing a man of calculating intellect, indomitable will, and an almost deceptively powerful charm.



“I promise you’ll get a little break from the physical exertion of planking here,” he looked at Ayira and Patriarch for a moment and smiled, “I’d imagine doing it in armor was not exactly thrilling.”

Sweeping his hand to motion to the tables, he had each pick one for themselves. It appeared he had already taken the piles of little pieces and mixed them all up in the middle of the tables again.

“Come, take a seat and I’ll show you what we have here. At each table, as you can now see, we have a single 100 piece puzzle. All you have to do is…put it together.”

He straightened and winked at them all. “That’s it. Like I said, a break from the physical. Catch your breath. But there is a catch, I mean, isn’t there always?”

Xanatos held up a single finger. “You will be timed. When I say ‘begin,’ you will have fifteen minutes to complete this and see how many pieces you get together in that time. As I told the last group I oversaw, apparently it takes the average person about an hour to complete a puzzle this size.”

His dark eyes swept over them all calmly once more and settled on Jam.

“Looks like you ‘won’ over there on the mats, big guy. Jam, if I’m not hearing wrong. Impressive. Lets see how you do here.” A pause. “Let me know when you are all ready.”

The Patriarch gazed on the struggle between Ayira and Jam remarkably impressed with their endurance. He ignored the Baron's comment too annoyed with his failure to listen. He was unsurprised and disappointed that Jam was the one to last the longest, even The Patriarch had to admit he was quite the physical specimen.

As the group walked over to the Intelligence Station he looked over the room to see how everyone else at the other stations were doing. Unlike Jam he did not look forward to the Strength test, a rather odious and unnecessary evaluation in his mind, but one he would not have to worry about for now.

The Patriarch listened carefully to the one named Xanatos. Ah, a test of intelligence, a far more useful evaluation. He continued to listen as he walked over to one of the tables and began to sit. Upon hearing it takes the average person an hour to complete this puzzle he titled his head in slight confusion.

Really? It doesn't look too bad.

He prayed that Jam would not make a scene as he waited eagerly for Xanatos' signal to begin.

Smirking, Xanatos let out a small chuckle and merely waved toward the tables once more after Jam spoke of being a winner and letting on that he figured the challenge ahead would be easy. That was his quiet way of asking him to prove it.

“Good luck,” he bid simply as everyone sat down and prepped themselves. But before he could formally announce the start of their test, Jam had already begun with another statement.

“THE JAM HAS BEEN GIVEN THE WRONG PUZZLE. THIS ONE IS BROKEN!”

David Xanatos had the presence of mind not to laugh. But he had been tempted, so tempted to do so right then! His footsteps echoed off the floor as he crossed the distance of where he had been standing to the orc’s table in just a few short seconds. He made a show of staring at the pieces a moment.

“So you’re right,” he replied smoothly, “But then that’s exactly why we set this one out for you. We need a masterful hand to repair this puzzle, or at the very least get it started. Please show us your skill!”

He stepped back and put his hands in his pockets casually with a grin, his eyes gleaming with mischief when looking at his full group.

“And with that, please begin.”

The Patriarch allowed himself a slight chuckle at Jam's comment, he was curious to see how the brute would go about solving the puzzle. He then cast him out his mind, he breathed in deeply and let it out slowly, allowing his mind to focus solely on the puzzle. He gazed downward and upon the command began.

Perhaps his entire concentration would not be necessary after all. He had no need to organize the pieces, or even take more time to observe them. He cleared a small section for him to work and shoved the pieces to one side. It was if the Patriarch had crafted the puzzle himself, each piece effortlessly gliding into place as his hand darted from the puzzle pile to the working model. His concentration could not be broken his mind fixated on solving the puzzle.

TAG: No one really...

OOC: And with that I'm all caught up!

 

IC: Jo'Sua Dhatra
Constitution Test, Evaluation Chamber

Valynor’s had made his decision and his mind was already made up. Closed his eyes, and began to sing to himself. He sang a song of the elves, one that he somehow knew, and could draw strength from. It was a smart practice, a solid counter the silence that Dhatra had planned on. Dhatra merely listened and ignored the rest, let one strength become your own.

It seemed familiar, and he somehow knew what the other was singing. The words were words, a tongue he knew. Then he felt something rise in him, a sadistic little counter song he hissed and began to sing in counter to the elf's song. It was simple, it was crude, and it seemed to just pour up like a tide of purely against the elf song. Voice rasping he found the whip noises came easily.

Where there's a whip,
(Whip lash)
There's a way! Where there's a whip,
( Whip lash)
There's a way! Where there's a whip,
We don't want to go to War today, but the Lord of the Lash says, "Nay, nay, nay"!
We're gonna march all day, all day, all day!
For where there's a whip, there's a way!
(Whip lash)
Where there's a whip, there's a way!
For where there's a whip,
(Whip lash)
There is a whip, there's a way, left, right, left, right, left!
Where there's a whip there's a way!
Left, right!
A crack on the back, says we're gonna fight!
We're gonna march all day and night!
And more, For we are the slaves of the Dark Lord's War!
Left, right, left, right!
Where there's a way
(Whip Lash)
Where there's a whip
(Whip lash)
There's a way. Where there's a whip,
We don't want to go to war today, But the Lord of The Lash says, nay nay, nay!
We're gonna march all day, all day, all day!
For where there's a whip there's a way!

He just had to last fifteen seconds longer than the elf.

TAG: @greyjedi125

 

IC as Ayira

Ayira held the strange device in her hands as she closed her eyes, inhaling a deep breath to try and block out the surrounding noise of the others about the chamber until the evaluator marked the beginning of their next trial. Upon hearing him, the girl opened her green eyes and immediately began scanning the large room. She remembered seeing a couple just in passing before she knew what they were for and so she started searching in those directions first, smiling to herself a little as she held up the lit up pad and attempted to write on it with her finger... which was way harder than it originally seemed.

Ayira already had two locations written down, much sloppier than her usual handwriting, thank you very much, and then Jam's loud voice sounded not far from her, "THE JAM IS NO GOOD AT THESE MIND GAMES! THE JAM IS BUILT FOR DESTRUCTION! MAYHEM! I DID NOT GET A PERFECT BODY WITH BOULDERS FOR SHOULDERS BY USING MY MIND!"

She held in a small snigger. He seemed like a capable warrior, but his ego filled this entire chamber. It would do him some good to be knocked down a few pegs every once in a while, she thought as she glanced about, trying to find another flag. One of their companions in the group of five decided to respond to him. That worked for her, she could focus more on locating more flags. "Perhaps if you took the time to use those two little eyes of yours before bellowing you might notice something"

Ayira decided to bite back a witty retort in agreement with the cloaked man, writing down her third flag. A voice then drifted through the expansive room, catching her off guard. She blinked and looked in its direction over at Quinn's station. One of the men, with red hair, had started singing. She couldn't pick out any words she could understand, but it was probably one of the most beautiful songs she had ever heard. Ayira caught herself staring in awe and shook her head a little. Was he magical? His voice was like a soothing balm for one's injuries. Pay attention, she pulled herself back to the situation. Flags. She needed to find more flags.

Laughing helped bring her attention fully to the current task. She eyed Jam briefly as he grinned. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I HAVE FOUND ONE! YOU, LITTLE ARMORED ONE, YOU ARE HELPFUL INDEED! LITTLE ARMORED PATRIARCH, I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK!"

"Wow, Jam... Just one, huh?" Ayira smirked a little as she scribbled a fourth location before time was up.

Tag: @Darth_Elu, @The Jedi in the Pumas, @Shadowsun, mentioned: @greyjedi125

 

The Patriarch
The Wisdom Test

The Patriarch continued desperately to try and find the final flag. Although his attention would once again be distracted by The Jam.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I HAVE FOUND ONE! YOU, LITTLE ARMORED ONE, YOU ARE HELPFUL INDEED!"

His head turned slightly toward Jam, now ignoring the test entirely.

"LITTLE ARMORED PATRIARCH, I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK!"

Great, I should of kept my mouth shut. He noticed Jam was trying to take a peek at his tablet. The culmination of the frustration of not finding the last flag, the almost endless interruptions from Jam and his currently severed magical connection...it...it was too much for the Patriarch to handle. Usually the man was calm and rationale. A becon of wisdom, knowledge and logic. But not now. He made a motion toward Jam as about to hit him, then realized how stupid that was and instead looked at him with his cold, dead eyes before marching to Galbortrix and annoyedly handing over his tablet with a full minute left.

"Here I don't need this" He said curtly as he went off to stand awkwardly away from the group. He hated his current powerless state.

TAG: @The Jedi in the Pumas @Darth_Elu @spacelady

 

OOC: For those who have magic sensitivity, no matter what test you are doing right now, you will want to read Galbatorix’s post in the Wisdom Test as well….You can thank Pumas & Shadowsun.

David Xanatos IC:
~The Intelligence Test, Evaluation Chamber~

Xanatos continued to merely watch quietly as the test continued on, with him briefly pulling out the device and checking it for time, before putting it away in his pocket again.

Folding his arms, he just observed impassively. Arthur’s question earned a slight nod from the evaluator, seeing no reason to deny the truth he had now gleaned. He would have to redouble his efforts if he wanted to do well before time was up.

Dusty was being quiet, at least at the moment, but seemed to be hanging in there. Xanatos nodded toward his direction before allowing his eyes to come upon Wapoe.

He was humming quietly to himself as he worked. It appeared he had been caught off guard at first, starting slow, but then swiftly began to make up for it. By all estimates, this seemed like it would be a good test result for the robed one.

Nevertheless, time ticked on. They would find out for sure when it stopped.

Tag: Arthur, Wapoe, & Dusty @galactic-vagabond422 @Sinrebirth @HanSolo29

*****
Ganondorf IC:
~The Will Test, Evaluation Chamber~

They began to move. Ganondorf grinned. The odd gnome, Grimble, seemed to bounce? toward him. It was an odd sight, but he would handle that in just a moment like with the rest.

Charjra, the one who had quipped back at him, did not run like most did. He was surprised. She adopted a purposeful, confident stride toward him. She knew something was coming, but would move in such a fashion until he presented it to them.

Very well.

Irryn seemed to tense up at first, then began to place her feet purposefully in front of her as she moved toward him. But it was…odd. Something was off on this, even Ganondorf scrambling to make sense of it in his mind. It would come to him, he was sure of it.

She even gave a silent snarl, even more odd for a Fae being. The lips pulled back and large, serrated teeth revealed themselves. Now that was very interesting. Theories began to explode in his mind, but for now…

The test.

“Haha! Let’s start with just a little pressure and amp up as we go along, shall we!”

Ganondorf raised a single hand, and with that grin back on his face, a blast of concentrated air slammed into each of them. It was not so bad, but the initial impact would definitely throw them off. The real problem was that he kept it up without end.

His hand remained up and the wind just kept coming, slowing their progress. Trying to force them to their knees. Most could last five or six minutes with the way he was going to go about things (not his preferred, but this was only an evaluation after all!), but this was just the beginning.

It was going to get gradually tougher from here. He would keep up this level of wind, their clothes rustling and limbs straining, for about two minutes. If they persisted, well…

They’d get to that bridge when they came to it. He expected they would. Of course if any surprised him by seemingly being unchallenged by this, then he’d have to move up his timescale.

One thing was certain. Ganondorf was adamant in his mind.

No one here, like the others before them, would actually reach him. He wouldn’t allow it.

Tag: Charjra, Irryn, & Grimble (To show I’m still honoring what you wished for him, Vo) @Ktala @darthhelinith @Master Vo'Un'Var

*****
Baron Quinn IC:
~The Constitution Test, Evaluation Chamber~

Quinn watched as others began to drop, leaving only Valynor and Jo’Sua. The former was a mild surprise to him, but a very pleasant one. The latter, well. He gave the wraith a knowing look as he passed by, but said nothing.

Its not like little notes couldn't be added to one’s private evaluations later. Not that he particularly disproved of Jo’Sua’s methods. Actually, it was rather clever.

He was surprised again when Valynor erupted into elven song. The Baron stopped where he was and folded his arms, listening with a smile. Such a tactic to bolster oneself was also clever, it would be interesting to see if he could make it to the end.

“Elvish. Truly, a beautiful language. Keep going then, let us hear till the finale!”

Then came Jo’Sua’s counter song. Quinn couldn’t help but laugh, impressed with the mimicry of a whip’s crack.

“A challenger in both body and voice. Very good! Perhaps Genesis Gate will earn itself a pair of idols.”

Glancing at the time they were at with his device, he nodded appreciatively. They were both doing excellently at this stage and were likely nearing their end.

Tag: Jo’Sua & Valynor @Mitth_Fisto @greyjedi125

*****
Galbatorix IC:
~The Wisdom Test, Evaluation Chamber~

Things began smoothly enough, but such things were not meant to last. Or so it seemed in Galbatorix’s mind.

“THE JAM IS NO GOOD AT THESE MIND GAMES! THE JAM IS BUILT FOR DESTRUCTION! MAYHEM! I DID NOT GET A PERFECT BODY WITH BOULDERS FOR SHOULDERS BY USING MY MIND!”

That much was obvious, he thought dryly as his eyes showed their irritation at the orc.

Nevertheless the others did their best to quietly fulfill their trial, especially Ayira and Patriarch as they just went about the task of searching out the flags. The young woman seemed distracted for a little bit by the abrupt singing match going on over at the Constitution Station. Galbatorix shook his head, having no idea what Baron Quinn was up to over there, but resolved not to care.

“Perhaps if you took the time to use those two little eyes of yours before bellowing you might notice something.”

It would appear Patriarch couldn’t help himself any longer and had to retort. Fuel for the fire of a barbaric type like Jam.

“NOTHING ON THE JAM IS LITTLE…LITTLE MAN!! JAM IS BIG TIME…ALL THE TIME!”

A small, merciful pause in the shouting and then laughter. That roaring and obnoxious (in the King’s view) laughter.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I HAVE FOUND ONE! YOU, LITTLE ARMORED ONE, YOU ARE HELPFUL INDEED! LITTLE ARMORED PATRIARCH, I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK!”

The orc even had the audacity to try to simply peer down at the armored man’s tablet. If he could get away with it, so be it, but it was still rather audacious of him.

Ayira had a little return of her own here.

“Wow, Jam…Just one, huh?”

A nice little jab, but she best be careful not to get distracted in trying to verbally spar with the muscle-bound man else she get a lower score than she might otherwise have attained. This was also true for any who would allow themselves enraged by the actions of another.

Patriarch was proving this latter point as he radiated frustration and supreme annoyance, even going so far as to prepare to strike the orc. He paused, realizing the likelihood of the outcome of that idea, before instead just glaring coldly. Then he proceeded to hand over his tablet to Galbatorix despite there being a little time left.

“Here I don’t need this.”

Galbatorix took it, his eyes watching the man quietly, as he moved away to distance himself from the others. Finally, Galbatorix spoke, allowing himself a little moment to react to what he also perceived as an annoyance. Even he had limits.

“If you so wish, Patriarch. However, one can give up. Or they can deal with the distractions set against them. Either directly or…by proxy.”

His gaze swept over to Jam and he uttered one word. Just one.

But his voice, though not loud, did not need to be. Shouting was impressive to any taken in by such spectacle. But those who could achieve the same, or greater, in a matter-of-fact approach? They were the ones to watch for. They had control.



Power coursed in the air for the briefest of seconds, a tingling sensation unmistakable to those who knew. True Power. An invisible aura of magical energy abounded in the room though only those attuned, or formally in the dreamers’ case, would notice it. Even cut off, there was no mistaking it.

It shook within the word like a proverbial earthquake. It resounded in their souls. For a brief instant, every fiber of their being. Every hair on their head. Every blood cell coursing through their veins. Every bit of their clothing and armor clinging to them. It all, for that moment, felt like they erupted in fire.

It did not burn, it did not even hurt. It all just felt….alive. That magic, that source of energy they all had been robbed of, for that instant…they had it. Not able to utilize, but they could feel it within and around them almost as if it had never left. They were whole again! It sang, it screamed, it yearned to be unleashed.

And one man had made it ripple through them like it was nothing.

Every attuned being in the Evaluation Chamber had their heads snap up and could not help but take notice of this.

Ganondorf, his hand still up and working his own magic for his trial, craned his head around to see what had just occurred.

The evaluator yet to be revealed at the Strength Station snapped their head up and stared silently toward the Wisdom Station.

Sesshomaru tensed by instinct and pivoted on his heel, narrowing his golden eyes in the direction of Galbatorix.

Valynor and Jo’Sua unable to witness what was going on, would undoubtedly feel it as they neared the end of their stamina (or act of) and begin to wonder, their souls afire and magic practically radiating in their own voices with their song, enhancing them for that brief instant.

Wapoe would feel it like a tidal wave slamming into his chest as he assembled his puzzle, though it would not physically affect him. The source of the magic suddenly erupting into being would be instantly known to him. Like a moth drawn to the flame, the ‘light’ was unmistakable for the brief instant it appeared. In that same instant, the patterns of the puzzle all became clear. Every piece, how they fit, all of it. Even the end picture despite not being finished. When it faded, that vision also faded, but he may be able to add a few extra pieces more while it lasted.

Charjra and Irryn amid their struggle against magic already, suddenly had their eyes widened to such an unexpected source of sensation. Their bodies hesitated by instinct. It could then either briefly embolden or detract from their performance. But having been in Galbatorix’s presence not long ago, they could sense with complete certainty where it was coming from. And from whom.

Ayira and Patriarch were in close proximity to this magnificent display. They would find themselves, in that instant, rooted to the very spot they stood. They felt a part of where they stood. They were the chamber.

They could see everyone and their exact placements, no matter in what corner they were in, they could feel everyone’s footfalls as they ran the agility course, strained from the endurance test, felt the soft clicking of the puzzle pieces at the intelligence tables vibrate down the table to the floor; they felt the vibrations of sound from the gun being fired at the dexterity station, the wind blowing adversely against the test subjects at the will station, the weights dropping with a loud thunk! at the strength test. They saw the yellow flags in every location, doing their best to hide from the others at the wisdom trial.

A feeling like a gunshot. A lightning strike of realization.

….there was something odd about that communication jewel in the pillar…..

In a flash, it was over. Their cells sung with the afterglow of this magical epiphany. They were back to themselves.

All this. Just one word.

“Hljödhr.”

Jam was the one man on the receiving end of the actual intended effect. For that instant, he felt the live fire. He felt the tension build in his shoulders as big as boulders and the rest of his muscles. He was physically lifted by about two feet into the air, frozen in place. His eyes widened despite himself. He felt everything described above for the rest.

It was absolutely THRILLING! It was INSPIRING! It was………..

The most frightening thing he had ever endured in his short memory.

His soul shook far more than the others, his very being felt like it would pull apart despite the joy he was receiving alongside the fear. His muscles strained further, it was like they were going to split at the seams! Yet it did not hurt, but it felt like it was about to. Jam literally towered over Galbatorix, there was no way around that fact.

But in that moment, Jam saw his aura. Saw him for what he truly was. The power inside the man. The real Galbatorix.

Jam was currently an ant. Galbatorix was the mountain, its gaze impossibly high above and staring down at him. Judging. His black aura had stretched on and on beyond even the ceiling and its exquisite fresco until he could no longer see those eyes, but he would always feel them.

And then his body lightly touched back down to the ground as he came to himself and the sensation slowly dissipated. He was once more, THE JAM. Once more he was bigger!

…Right?

And then he discovered something else.

Silence. No words emanated from his mouth. He could voice anything he wished, but no one would hear. Scream in futility, rage in disparity, marvel in objectivity.

“If you would learn to do something other than shout, Jam,” Galbatorix stated firmly, “Perhaps one day you would discover worlds of power beyond even the strength you wield in those giant muscles. If you wish to be the conqueror and savior both of Genesis Gate…

“Marry these concepts together. I'll return your voice soon.”

Galbatorix tossed the tablet back toward Patriarch nonchalantly, though his words were for all at his station.

“You still have 58 seconds left. Do not disappoint me.”

Tag: Jam, Patriarch, & Ayira @The Jedi in the Pumas @Shadowsun @spacelady

Indirectly: Jo’Sua, Valynor, Wapoe, Irryn, & Charjra @greyjedi125 @Mitth_Fisto @Sinrebirth @darthhelinith @Ktala

 

THE JAM
The Wisdom Test​

It began and end in a matter of seconds and the Jam was back on the ground.

He rubbed his skin. He could've sworn he was on fire.

And not in the usual way he was on fire.

His muscles felt like they were stretched and torn to their limit.

Luckily, his massive, well-sculpted arms and thick slabs of orc meat he called legs had endured Galbatorix's attack.

The Jam stopped rubbing his body. There was a moment...very brief where he had been scared. Those damn mage types. With their manipulations and mind tampering.

TOO SCARED TO THROW THE ONES OR PICK UP AN AXE!

The Jam was scared of no man. Especially no man who wore such a terrible cape.

And make no mistake...the cape was bad.

Jam was fuming and now it was time to unleash the fury!

" !! ! !!!!"

" !! "

" !!"

The Jam smiled at Galbatorix and received no response. Clearly, he had demoralized the man with his verbal assault.

It was then that Jam the Conquerer realized that he had not said anything. More accurately, no one could hear him.

Very clever. Silence the Jam so that he could have the last word. A coward's move.

Jam puffed out his chest at Galbatorix. The warlock may have the upper hand in magic, but clearly he was lacking in strength. So Jam assumed a handstand and began to do handstand push ups. WITH NO SUPPORT.

The training to give Galbatorix a beatdown began now. The rivalry had started and the rest of the people in the Evaluation Chamber knew. Oh yea...they knew that eventually.

On the biggest stage of them all, the battlefield. That Jam would show why they had come to him. BEGGING...

PLEADING.

For his help.

Tag: @Darth_Elu @spacelady @Shadowsun ​

 

The Patriarch
The Wisdom Test
​

A cold, sinister, dead smile forced its self on the Patriarch's face. One hidden from the world but there nonetheless. He could feel the magic rushing through him like blood rushing into leg after sitting on it for too long. He could feel his power return, his senses on fire, every inch of the room known to him.

He could taste the gunpowder in the air.

He could feel the strong wind eradiating from Ganondorf.

He could hear the faint clickity clack of the puzzle pieces.

He could smell the sweat from those at the endurance, strength and agility stations.

But perhaps most importantly, he could see the final flag.​

It was as if the Patriarch had slipped into the fabric of reality itself.​

He breathed in deeply. He felt alive, like a part of his soul had been missing and he had rediscovered. He began to turn toward Jam as he prepared to unleash a maelstrom of torment, one he was certain the orc would never recover from. But before he could it vanished. Sucked away from him like drawing the blood from an animal. He now stumbled as he turned, reorienting himself to his now magicless state.

He gazed upon Galbatorix's splendor impressed and unnerved by the man's power. He suspected he was more power than himself but now...now he was certain of it. He caught the tablet Galbatorix threw to him, he proudly and neatly wrote the final. No wonder he had not spotted it before, it was in a rather well hidden location...an angle the Patriarch had not considered. He now returned the tablet, completed this time.

"Thank you" spoke the masked man softly. He was not one to give thanks out freely. While polite The Patriarch actually meant it when he said it to Galbatorix. Such a wonderous display of power, he had the Patriarch's respect.

He now turned to Jam who had remained remarkable quiet up to this point and then he realized why. He couldn't help himself, he had needed this, he let out a laugh, a deep infectiously cold and harsh laugh.

TAG: @The Jedi in the Pumas @Darth_Elu @spacelady

 

Charjra Myt'tar
The test of Wills

As Charjra moved forward, she kept her eyes focused on Ganondorf. Her eyes never left where he stood, as she kept moving forward in purporseful steps
him.

“Haha! Let’s start with just a little pressure and amp up as we go along, shall we!” Ganondorf raised a single hand, and with that grin back on his face, a blast of concentrated air slammed into Charjra form. With a grunt, Charjra's body wavered from the force for a second or two, and then she took another step. This was nothing. The caverns of the Alfmyr were windier than this. As she was not to be denied this early in the test. She softly chanted, and each step brought her a bit closer to her goal.

Charjra was moving, her eyes narrowed when suddenly, she heard something. A sound. A word. And in that word, every fiber of her being suddenly was on fire. Like when she saw the sunset overhead, but oh, so much more crested within her soul. THAT was the gift which spoke. Magic. It sang from and rebounded within her, and she wanted to howl from the ecstatic feeling she was now feeling. Her entire being hungrily devoured the offering and wanted for more. An empty part of her screamed as it tried to grap what was still out of her reach.

But this magic was not to be wasted. This blessing was for now. She did not think of who or why. Even as Ganondorf craned his head around to look, Chanjra focused the entirety of her being on him at the moment, and moved forward with quickened, but still well-planted steps. The magic filled her with a flame of awareness of what was, and what would be once more. Its song roared in her ears, and she heard nothing else around her as she focused her all on Ganondorf. "Oloth zhah tuth abbil lueth ogglin", Charjra slowly spat out the words and she continued on, boistered by the the word. Nothing else mattered. Time seem to slow, as she willed herself to keep moving forward.

"Sargh lueth kyona phuul dro'xundus.." Chanjra intoned as she focuses her entire being on reaching the creature known as Ganondorf, and ve'renath to whatever stood in her way. Including herself. And even as the word began to fade away, she would not.



TAG: @darthhelinith , @Darth_Elu, @Master Vo'Un'Var

 

IC: Valynor Syndoriel
Constitution Test, Evaluation Chamber

Even though he sang with his eyes closed while holding the pose, Valynor was keenly aware of his surroundings. His perceptive pinned ears picked-up on the Jo’Sua’s counter song, an orckish song at that, performed in the spirit of competition. Valynor accepted the unspoken challenge with a brief smile and continued his own elvish song, willing himself to increase his mental focus.

The two sang in what should have been a dissonant contrast, but it was not so, at least not to those who understood the dynamics of concordant opposition.

The dual performance was nearing its conclusion, when something unexpected happened.

Magik!

It shook them like a proverbial earthquake. It resounded in their souls. For a brief instant, every fiber of their being. Every hair on their head. Every blood cell coursing through their veins. Every bit of their clothing and armor clinging to them. It all, for that moment, felt like they erupted in fire.

It did not burn, it did not even hurt. It all just felt….alive. That magic, that source of energy they all had been robbed of, for that instant…they had it. Not able to utilize, but they could feel it within and around them almost as if it had never left. They were whole again! It sang, it screamed, it yearned to be unleashed.

Valynor held a single perfect note, crystalline and clear as his eyes snapped open, the green irises of his eyes began to swirl, becoming alive with eldritch fire. His hair flowed and moved as if on its own accord, instantly becoming suffused with flame-like radiance; and for a moment, it seemed as if the elf would float upwards, perhaps a full meter off the ground.

In his mind, Valynor could also see The White Tower, The King who Rode on a Dragon, A Pillar, A Jewel, A Patriarch, A Jester, A Dark Elf!

In a flash, it was over. Their cells sung with the afterglow of this magical epiphany.

They were back to themselves.

Valynor felt his limbs give, then buckle, then found himself chest first on the floor, and yet managed to roll smoothly on his back. He closed his eyes and basked in the sensation that had just left him, and relished in the fading emanations.

Perhaps being here in Shadow's Reach would be worth it after all, and thus, perhaps for the first time since coming through the Genesis Gate, he truly smiled in complete contentment.



Tag: @Darth_Elu, @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Jo'Sua Dhatra
Constitution Test, Evaluation Chamber

Even though he sang staring at the black mat while holding the pose, Jo'Sua was barely aware of his surroundings, as he was actively trying to tune everything out. Everything but the elf and himself, the Baron could say whatever he liked, but unless he felt a rebuke he would not react and all he heard was something amused. So he payed it no mind. There was only the songs, and that he had to last fifteen seconds longer than the elf.

The two sang in total opposition, cultural and spiritual, although they did not clash. It was like holding aloft two sides of the same coin and making them face each other. It was infinitely wrong, but also somehow just. . .worked. Perhaps a better analogy was like magnets laid to opposing ends, so long as neither tried to escalate or change things (effectively to switch which ends were facing each other), they were both stronger for it.

He could feel the songs drawing to their endings, and his own new born body likely was doing the same if he was wrong about being dead and so unaffected. Then, then it all was paused in silence.

“Hljödhr.”

It was a whisper on the wind he should not of paid attention to. Only with it. . .it shook them like a proverbial earthquake. It resounded in their souls. For a brief instant, every fiber of their being. Every hair on their head. Every blood cell coursing through their veins. Every bit of their clothing and armor clinging to them. It all, for that moment, felt like they erupted in fire.

Where his cloak had been largely hanging off him on the ground it now was wrapped tight like a cacoon, his armor clacked and rattled as it tried to merely be closer to him. If not for his own body spasm at the moment he was sure he would of collapsed, only such thoughts only came in reflection.

It did not burn, it did not even hurt. It all just felt….alive. That magic, that source of energy they all had been robbed of, for that instant…they had it. Not able to utilize, but they could feel it within and around them almost as if it had never left. They were whole again! It sang, it screamed, it yearned to be unleashed.

The crack of a whip noise died on his tongue as the black of the mat began to glow. The world was white and black, a contrast and constant beyond all constraints of the material world. He felt like he was wearing different clothes, was different, was whole. He could see the duality of it, of it all! This! This is what he was!

In a flash, it was over. Their cells sung with the afterglow of this magical epiphany.

They were back to themselves.

With the release of magic so to did his body, robes, and armor all release. He collapsed in a loud clanging crash of a heap of a wraith. Visor straight down on the ground he simply laid there. Remembering, for though it left him, he was whole for a moment.

Now his doubts were gone, magic was going to be his, and he would be whole. Again. He began to laugh, a hissing wheeze that grew into a deep laugh as he basked in the moment.

Tag: @Darth_Elu, @greyjedi125

 

IC as Ayira

Ayira's green eyes skimmed the vast chamber, still searching for the last two flags before the time went out. She got her quick jab in at Jam at his lack of using his brain power... if he even had any, she snickered slightly. On the other side of their group of five, Patriarch's frustration was coming to a boil, just as she had during the plank test. She paused looking about to watch him push his device to Galbatorix and say that he didn't need it anymore. The expression on the evaluator's face meant things just got serious. She could tell that much even though she wasn't sure what he was thinking. Carefully eyeing them, she tensed, expecting trouble.

“If you so wish, Patriarch. However, one can give up. Or they can deal with the distractions set against them. Either directly or…by proxy.”

And then it happened. All within the matter of seconds, yet it felt like eternity. He murmured a strange word she had never even heard before and didn't understand it. But she knew what it was. Magic. She could feel it, sense it, taste it. Her very body radiated and pulsed with energy pushing up to the surface, begging to be set free. She released a quiet gasp as adrenaline coursed her veins, her body feeling both heavy and as light as feather at the same time. She couldn't move, she didn't even dare, too afraid this sensation would disappear. Whatever "life" she lived before, she had magic, but this... this was so much more. The magic she had before coming to this realm was just a single drop in the entire ocean, and this was the entire ocean, maybe even as expansive as the universe itself. She was alive, arguably for the first time ever.

Jam's large body then lifted up into the air as a result of whatever magic Galbatorix did on him. He felt brunt of it all. It was exhilarating and terrifying to him all together and she could feel it coming off of him in waves, yet she could only watch in amazement.

Waves of echos flooded her senses, light thudding and a slight scuffing of the sound of people running, but they weren't nearby. Soft, oh so soft shuffling of puzzle pieces upon tables, hushed conversations of those inside the chamber, they seemed like whispers, yet she could clearly make out every word. Booming sounds of what seemed like thunder, yet the sound was coming from strange metal objects that exploded from the inside, a small piece of metal being shot from within. She could see these tiny objects fly slowly toward a target, a wave of air rippling out from it as it made its way closer to the target range. The feelings of confusion, exhaustion, victory or defeat, curiosity, anger, hatred, companionship, they all vibrated from the others in the chamber. Ayira could feel them all. She was them all. There were no words to explain this, nothing could. It was beautiful and glorious, awe inspiring and fearsome. It was anything and most certainly everything. Her armor and the clothes underneath clung to her, yet she could hardly pay attention to it.

Everything had a heartbeat in this moment. Even the last two brightly colored flags that had escaped her notice. How could she, they were so easily hidden. She wanted to laugh and cry all at once. She could do anything.

And then as quickly as it came, it was gone. The room had gone eerily quiet and still. She could no longer feel or hear the footfalls from the running course. She couldn't sense the firing guns, the overwhelming and unshackled emotions of everyone in the chamber had washed away. The heartbeats and faraway whispers faded to quiet, and her clothes and armor returned to normal. She visibly shrunk a little, her shoulders slumping, her body and spirit feeling oddly drained. She had felt on top of the very world itself and now... It was all gone. Her green eyes shimmered under unshed tears as she stared at Galbatorix, breathing in quick rasps. Why... why was it gone? She wanted it back, she needed it back...

“If you would learn to do something other than shout, Jam, perhaps one day you would discover worlds of power beyond even the strength you wield in those giant muscles. If you wish to be the conqueror and savior both of Genesis Gate… Marry these concepts together. I'll return your voice soon.” Galbatorix stated with a firm tone and handed the device back to Patriarch. “You still have 58 seconds left. Do not disappoint me.”

Ayira eyed Jam then. He had returned to the ground once more and was oddly quiet after. She briefly wondered if maybe he had finally gotten the concept of silence when she decided that magic had actually silenced him. Patriarch took the device back with a quiet, "Thank you," before looking at Jam and letting out a cold laugh at the situation. She couldn't laugh, even if she wanted to. She could only stand there, feeling like a shell of a person. Empty and longing for that feeling once more.

With blurry eyes, she turned her gaze down at the device in her hands, feeling like it had suddenly weighed a good ten pounds more than just a few minutes ago. She had seen the last two flag locations. Silently, she scribbled the locations with a shaky hand, finishing right as the timer went off. Upon looking up, she glanced back at the jewel in the center pillar of the chamber. Something wasn't right about that... She sensed it. What was its true purpose?

Tag: @Darth_Elu, @The Jedi in the Pumas, @Shadowsun, and everyone else!

 

GM Approved

Picture:



Name: Amaya Trakand
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Age: 34
Hair Color: Hazelnut
Eye Color: Green
Height & Build: Not very tall (5’9”, 1.75m), slim, athletic
Other Physical Attributes: None
Magic Sensitivity: No

 

Irryn
Will

A word reverberated from the kingly gentleman they had left. Just one, but at it's utterance, Irryn's soul shook and for a moment complete clarity seemed only seconds away. A stampede of memories flooded toward her brain. Her entire body flexed and rippled, a low rumble echoing. Something was about to happen. She could feel it.

The moment swiftly passed and the memories fled, leaving nothing but faint impressions of emotion and power. It was as if the moment had just happened just a bit too soon or too late, like a musician who had come in slightly too early or missed his cue. Irynn swore in frustration, though to those around her, it would have been a deep and guttural sound which had a hissing, snarling quality to it. The drow seemed to be chanting something, possibly in an underdark language, and Irynn’s own growling seemed to join it and build it.

Their instructor was nothing really. She was greater, larger, more powerful than he. Soon he would know. Soon they would all know.

Tags: @Darth_Elu @Ktala

 

OOC: Here we are again with a retro beginning for our newcomer. So everyone who has already been playing up till now, you may skip this first section as usual. Admiral, while you will be PMing me a reply to this first tag, you are also to publicly post a reply to your second tag as if your character had been there the whole time.

We’ll get you all caught up though, no worries there.
______________________________________________________________

A While Previous
~The Genesis Gate, Shadow’s Reach~

With a groan and the settling of fatigue reaching deep into one’s bones, they all lay on the stone floor as if they crawled through some kind of tribulation to a remote sense of salvation. Now there, they could only feel the effects of such a journey and a disorienting sense of being and location. To assume the same thing was roughly on all of their minds wouldn’t be difficult.

Where am I?

There was some kind of chatter nearby and they each had the distinct feeling that it was aimed at them, but it seemed so far away. Muffled as if spoken through a pillow from across the room. Who was speaking anyway?

It was almost maddening, or it would be if they weren’t so out of it. Slowly, over the course of minutes, their eyes began to sharpen. Their hearing improved. Their sense of touch began to feel every bit of dust and crevice within the stone. And stone it truly was.

They were a group of thirty individuals, all very different from one another in some fashion. Some very much standing out. It seemed this first wave of what was hoped to be ‘the elite’ recruits were very fantasy leaning, which was mentally observed with intrigued amusement.

All of them were weaponless, but some of them seemed to be especially notable for a reason that was hard to place definitively.

For instance there was a second dark robed figure, his or her visuals completely obscured. Though a foreboding and alluringly mysterious aura emitted from them all the same.

An older gentleman was also spied among them. One who actually didn’t look fantasy-ish at all, like the others around him. Indeed, he seemed more a figure out of the Old West.

Along with those two and all the others being noted, it was also perceived that they were within a large three-part chamber. It wasn’t well lit, though not distressingly dim either due to the decent amount of torches held in sconces upon the stone walls. It seemed the whole space was made of it. Hard, unflinching stone. Though it didn’t feel quite as cold as one would expect, yet it wasn’t warm by any means either. The ceiling itself seemed to be made of it and was quite vaulted, going to an estimated height of perhaps eighteen feet. The further one gazed upward, the more the shadows claimed whatever lay hidden upon it. There was anything at all. It certainly seemed unlikely, more an idle thought, but nevertheless true.

In this three-part chamber, they all had been gathered in the central section and the other two parts were noted in distinction by the 5 foot by 5 foot pillars on either side that were evenly placed in between the side walls, that separated each part of the chamber. Enough walking space for a single person to go through between the pillar and wall on either side of them. The entire central area they were in was 80 feet by 50 feet in size by itself, the adjoining areas beyond each pillar were perhaps only a little smaller themselves.

There was no sound aside from them moving faintly upon the ground, as if they were awakening statues. Or some such. Them and the man who stood leisurely ahead of them. He was the one who had been speaking to them, saying…something. He was just smiling casually currently. Watching them.

He was wearing a nice white cotton shirt with black pants, a black coat upon his shoulders almost importantly, and a dark wide obi belt made of leather that was connected to leg guards of the same material. The leg guards seemed to be more fashion than practical protection. In any event, what stood out were the leather hand guards he had on as well as the sword nonchalantly swinging from his left hip, gold hilt sticking out from under the coat. Not that he was hiding it, nor was he showing it off. It just was.

A truth, merely to accept regardless of how one felt about it. A microcosm of what was to come perhaps.

Tag: Amaya (PM with your reaction to this and we’ll go from there) @TheAdmiral

*****
Baron Quinn IC:
~The Constitution Test, Evaluation Chamber~

As Valynor and Jo’Sua finally collapsed to the ground, the elf just barely hitting the mat first, the Baron just eyed them quietly a moment instead of making a characteristic remark immediately.

The elf held a note in a way that spoke of something…strange…going on. His hair began to flow and move around in a way it shouldn’t. It appeared almost flame-like. He even seemed about to defy gravity but did not in the end. They did not have magic however, so the Baron wasn’t entirely sure what was going on.

The wraith himself had his robes suddenly wrap tight about him like some kind of shell, no cocoon seemed more accurate, his armor clacking and rattling on its own. A small spasm was visibly noticeable, not something that should be for a being like him. The whip noises at the end of the song finished abruptly, the mat underneath even began to glow. Or it seemed to for a second, perhaps just a trick of the eyes.

But there was no doubt about it. Magic. His brow furrowed. The genesis process hadn’t stripped them of magic after all? No, that couldn’t it. Such a development would have caused a stir throughout the organization had that been the case. Something else was going on.

He looked up and noticed some of the others, like Sesshomaru for instance, looking in the direction of Galbatorix. And it was in that instant that he noticed Jam just coming down from the air. He was also very notably silent.

So that was what happened. That magical king had done something and the dreamers had reacted. Or at least, some of them did. He would have to ask him later, which was not an idea he relished.

A few others had remarked, in the past, that Galbatorix and Quinn were somewhat similar in personality and that they should get along with their views.

They didn’t. It was one of those cases where two people were just a little too similar in certain ways. Oh, he respected him for sure. And he had no illusions as to his chances against the monarch in a fight, but if he was to be truthful…

He’d rather be without the man.

His eyes turned back to see Valynor smiling with the most content expression on his face since he had met him and Valynor was actually laughing.

“Hmm. Well, I’m glad you two have enjoyed yourselves. A job well done, gentlemen.”

With that, he decided to just leave the matter alone for the time being and turned his head, arms clasped behind his back now.

“Let us see how you are faring, Miss Amaya.”

The incident had completely wiped away the memory of how the others in the group had done, so was checking to see if she was still holding out (though it wouldn’t be for much longer if so) or if she was already on the mat, like most would be already.

Valynor and Jo’Sua had lasted nearly three minutes, which was very impressive, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if she had already fallen to the mat and was now just laying there. As he looked to her, he gave a little ‘Ah,’ more to himself than anything.

His mind clicked again, he remembered how she had been doing now. Yes…

Tag: Valynor, Jo’Sua, & Amaya @greyjedi125 @Mitth_Fisto @TheAdmiral

*****
Galbatorix IC:
~The Wisdom Test, Evaluation Chamber~

The orc rubbed his skin absently at first, absorbing everything that had just happened now that he was back on the ground. Galbatorix just watched him silently, curious as to his reaction. As he did, Patriarch quietly walked up to him and handed him the tablet. It seemed to be more filled out now, he noted with approval.

“Thank you.”

The king who currently oversaw their wisdom test did not reply verbally, merely nodding in recognition to the masked man’s words. He could tell in his voice that he had earned his respect. This was good. It meant he perceived and understood many things. Not just what had occurred.

And many things had occurred, some of which he himself was still contemplating. His face was impassive, betraying none of these thoughts however.

He noted how Jam was now in the middle of trying to roar and rage at him in his typical behavior. Galbatorix didn’t smile. It was simply what was intended to be done and now revealed that it had been so. The orc was a fool, but he would learn in time.

Or he would perish. That was the way of things.

Patriarch was laughing at the situation, his sharp distaste of the barbaric dreamer made abundantly clear again. Galbatorix looked over to see what Ayira was up to. It appeared she was finishing up as well, yet she seemed…

Depressed. There was no other word for it. Despite the satisfaction he admittedly felt at silencing Jam, he frowned at her expression. Nevertheless, he continued to keep his thoughts to himself. Pensive. His gaze went back to ‘The Jam’ who had now puffed out his chest in frustration, then proceeded to do handstand pushups. Not surprising.

Even his brain must be nothing more than muscle.

Finally, he stated: “Time’s up. Well done…for most of you. You may rest a moment until it is time to rotate.”

A pause.

“Or keep doing what the orc is, if you feel so inclined.”

Tag: Jam, Patriarch, & Ayira @The Jedi in the Pumas @Shadowsun @spacelady

*****
Ganondorf IC:
~The Will Test, Evaluation Chamber~

Ganondorf watched as his wind current slammed into Charjra, Irryn, Grimble, and the others. They all rocked from it for a second or two, but showed signs of persisting. Charjra in particular a step with an intense look to her eyes, a chant coming from her mouth to bolster herself.

The spirit remained strong! Good!

Irryn practically continued her odd growling, causing him to once again make a mental note to figure out what was going on with this one afterward the evaluations were all done. There was a presence there, oh yes, he felt it. It paled compared to his own, but it was still there. Impressive for a fresh recruit, elite or not. In time, she could become someone truly special among their ranks.

Ganondorf’s grin remained in place, deepening even, as he continued his barrage. But then came the word from Galbatorix. What was going on over there?

He kept up his magic, but craned his neck so he could take a look back at the wisdom station for a moment. It was a powerful act, but the expressions on the face of a young woman with blonde hair and the way a man in an armored mask was acting…not to mention the floating orc.

Hmmmm…..

He turned back to look at his own charges for the time being. Ganondorf made a second mental note. Speak to Galbatorix privately after these evaluations were over. And that was when he registered the fact that some of his test-takers were acting…different.

Charjra and Irryn in particular were especially emboldened, moving quicker and with even less difficulty against his magic. It was just for a few seconds, but it was most definitely notable. They had been strengthened!

Ganondorf’s eyes narrowed and intensified his wind now. Going up another notch, really getting their clothes flapping now, pushing heavily against them. One person even starting to slide back after about ten seconds.

They had surpassed the 2 minute mark. Good, but that was to be expected for most of them. How about this current level of power though? He planned to keep it up for another two minutes.

Anyone who remained standing past that mark, notable but still only decent in his opinion, felt another surge in power coming from the man. This third gale of force becoming something truly challenging. All of them would be pushed back about half the distance they had made up to that point before stopping themselves again. About a minute into it, two of them began to collapse at last.

But these other three? Well, lets see how they did.

The wind was powerful now, really beating and battering them. It wasn’t hurricane force, but it wasn’t far from. And in Ganondorf’s opinion, this was only ‘average’ difficulty for a recruit.

Then again, his view of things were often a bit…unique compared to most.

“That’s it! Yes! Show me your inner strength! Come get me! Ahahahaha!”

Tag: Charjra & Irryn @Ktala @darthhelinith

*****
David Xanatos IC:
~The Intelligence Test, Evaluation Chamber~

Moving to sit down on the upper part of the nearby central dais, Xanatos noted how Wapoe moved his head very subtly. Was his gaze flicking about, taking everything in while the test was going on? It was hard to tell for sure due to his true face being obscured underneath his hood.

But if so, it would mean he was likely trying to piece together a lot more than just the puzzle. Xanatos gave a little smile. An inquisitive mind that sought out the lines between lines. Well noted. Hopefully it didn’t distract him from the immediate task at hand however.

When the figure paused to hold his chest a moment, Xanatos frowned. As soon as it occurred, it seemed to be alright as he was now back to the puzzle. Almost moving faster than he had before. Intriguing…

“Doing ok over there, Wapoe?” he asked, curiosity plain upon his face.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

In the meantime, his eyes drifted over to find Dusty. He had to be honest with himself. He had not expected the old timer who seemed straight out of a saloon (and likely was) to be doing this well. There was more to him than met the eye.

David Xanatos loved people like that. It meant he could ward off boredom a little longer as he tried to figure them out. Get inside their head, really see what made them tick. Granted, he didn’t have the ability to go fully into it right now, but maybe in the future.

Still. The man was moving at…well, a very good speed. One of the fastest he had seen among any of the recruits Genesis Gate had pulled in so far. Patriarch had done close to this pace for a bit, but eventually slowed near the end. And this was likely something he considered for a child.

Dusty on the other hand? Showed no sign of slowing down yet.

Xanatos’ smile widened.

I like that one. I think I’m going to keep my eye on him.

Arthur, by contrast, seemed to be doing….well. Ok. The look on his face betrayed some frustration however. Or a lot of it. Xanatos averted his gaze before the man caught him looking. His results so far were not so bad to be laughable, far from, but the expression on his face…Almost comical. He held in his laugh and continued to watch them from where he sat.

They didn’t have much longer now.

“Almost there, everyone. Keep it up.”

Tag: Wapoe, Dusty, & Arthur @Sinrebirth @HanSolo29 @galactic-vagabond422

 

Arthur MacDonald

It was slow going, he still didn't understand how this worked but he got the basics. A picture was slowly slowly emerging though he had no clue as to what it could be. He had maybe four or five chunks of 4 or so pieces. They were coming together but even he could tell that there was much more that needed to be done. It wasn't absolutely terrible but it wasn't going well. His muscles still ached but were getting better, it was another muscle that was hurting now. His head started to hurt a pain right between his eyes as she strained them to look for little differences and similarities.

As the time was drawing to a close he could see he wasn't even half done, yet the others around him seemed to be much further along. He did his best to start making faster progress but only seemed to make more mistakes.

This was clearly not his arena, his muscles had a memory, of guards and cuts but his own intellect seemed to be failing him.

TAG: @Sinrebirth @HanSolo29 @Darth_Elu

 

The Patriarch
A break between tests

After the Patriarch was able to control himself after the laughter he sat himself down, cross legged, closing his eyes. He gazed inward, trying to rekindle the flame that had been his magic.

He breathed in.

Then out.

Then in.

Then out.

He couldn't even connect with his true self. He was just a hollow shell of what he was. His inability to command magic, it was getting to him. He gazed his attention, elsewhere to the distant faded memories of who he was. Perhaps once he remembered who he was then he would be able to rediscover his magic. He opened his eyes, out stretching his right hand. He turned his gaze to Jam doing his stupid exercises and snapped his fingers and...

...nothing happened. If it had, his intention was for The Jam to burst into flames. Something that would of been a nice way to past the time. But sadly not, his magic still inaccessible to him. He dropped his hand down, clearly disappointed from the lack of anything interesting.

He turned back toward the will test observing the examinees struggle against Ganondorf's wind blasts. He was curious to see how he himself would do on the Will test.

He closed his eyes again, resuming his breathing exercises, seeing if there was any chance he could remember anything.

TAG: @Darth_Elu @spacelady @The Jedi in the Pumas

 

Charjra Myt'tar
The test of Wills

Charjra had made quite some way when Ganondorf had turned his head to see what was going on in the other area. But when he turned back around and noticed that they had managed to gain some distance to him, Ganondorf’s eyes narrowed and intensified his wind now.

Chanjra froze, to take on the wind being thrown towards her. And suddenly a memory came to her. The cave of songs. A cavern, deep below that was known for its strong winds. The cave was also lined with sharp tooth walls, with jagged teeth that would cut the skin if blown against them.

Another step.

Crouching didn't work in those caves. It made you a wind profile wider. You either crawled or stood, leaning into the wind. But the wind was tricky. It shifted. You had to constantly move to shift your body weight where it was needed....

So Charjra rose slightly, but her eyes never left Ganondorf. She leaned, as she resumed her words, chanting softly to herself. She felt her clothing flapping hard against her body now.

Another step.

But that didnt matter. The task was still hers. To reach Ganondorf. She kept going. Step. Step. Step. Suddenly, what felt like a blast of air hit her, pushing her back quite a bit, before she dropped back down, slamming her fingers to the floor. So, he wanted to test him, did he?

Charjra changed tactics. She was no fan of being on the ground, but this was a test of wills. Not pride. Charjra quickly dropped She kept very low, dropping to her elbows, and letting her legs drop. Lower profile against the wind. But she had a feeling that it was more than just wind. And so she focused on that. She kept moving, focusing on her target. Move. Pause. Reset. Repeat. Move.

More steps. Breathing was getting difficult. It slowed her. She dropped her head some.

Another step.

It became her chant.

Another step...



TAG: @darthhelinith , @Darth_Elu, @Master Vo'Un'Var

 

IC: Amaya Trakand
~The Constitution Test, Evaluation Chamber~

Amaya had mostly kept to herself. Not that she disliked the others, but she wanted to be clear on who she was before she could interact with them. They were a colorful bunch, that was for sure. She needed to learn more about this place and what they are being tested for.

Amaya took the correct position, it came rather naturally. It was as if her muscles remembered how to do it. That did not mean that it was easy, she could feel her body tense, but the exertion felt familiar. Maybe she used to be a warrior of sorts before?

She gritted her teeth trying to hold as long as possible. Amaya did not let what was going on with the others distract her. She could sense her skin prikle, there was magic. There were shouts, voices, all intermixed. She needed to hold on a little longer…

Her body was screaming to her that she should let go. Sweat was trickling down her skin under her clothing. It tickled, her hands were slick and slippery. Her clothes soaked and heavy, pushing her down. Her muscles were about to give in. Her teeth gritted. Her breath coming out in rasps.

She heard a voice, the Baron’s… That was enough for her and she collapsed with a sigh. Her body rejoicing that she could rest at last. “How did I...” her voice hoarse, trying to catch some air “... do?” she managed a shaky smile.

TAG: @Darth_Elu @greyjedi125 @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Valynor Syndoriel
Constitution Test, Evaluation Chamber

The euphoria lingered still from having felt magic. It was more precious than air, at least in his mind. Valynor still smiled placidly, to such an extent that he remained laying on the floor and simply turned on his green mat, imagining that it was green grass, and looked upon the remaining team member taking the test.

The silent female, Amaya.

He’d taken notice of her silent strength, but was respectful enough not to remark on it aloud, since it seemed that she did prefer some privacy and distance.

The elf did raise an eyebrow as he watched her finished the test, sweating an collapsing with a sigh. She’d been shaking from her efforts, which denoted her inherent tenacity.

“How did I… do?” She managed to ask, albeit shakily.

Valynor sat up in a smooth motion and crossed his legs underneath him as he responded:

“I’d wager you passed.”

The elf would offer a small smile and an encouraging nod.


Tag: @Darth_Elu, @Mitth_Fisto, @TheAdmiral