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That girl had no skill, no style, and no direction. Never before had he seen such a harmless banishing spell. There were hardly any hostiles here, the air was breathable, the temperature was tolerable, this would be a fine place to live in. There was no attempt to remove his weapon, no change to his clothing, she had even kept him and his pets together! This all established, Marzo recognized that the power she wields is incredible. Never before had he be been disoriented by a banishing spell. It took him a few hours to even deduce the spell in question. To brush him away like that, to fly above the knockout gas while doing it, keeping the pressure exerted by her magic energies suppressed all the while. Clearly not the result of skill, the surroundings and his condition proved that much, just raw, untapped, untamed, untested power! She would have to suffer for setting him so far back of course, but perhaps Marzo was conflicted. As much as he wanted to torture the wench, it might be in his best interest to kill her as quickly as possible, before she actually gets good...
He would work out how to return to that gorgeous ball of water soon enough, but the salivating thought of conquest made him thirsty. The monster had not hurt him but being knocked off a roof and through a window always made Marzo thirsty. Complicating matters, the one hostile he had encountered, that red eyed metallic monstrosity, seemed to have spooked his pets beyond his recall range. Clearly the intent was to send him into a world of rat creatures more fearsome than his own. But she had not done her research, he was clearly far from any macrofauna's extant dwelling and anything else passing through had also been spooked by his little scuffle. His pets would calm, catch his scent and return in due time. They were so much better at finding drinking water than he though...and as their fumes dissipated the sun began to oppressively beat down on him.
Every building seemed abandoned very long ago, not a single one had modern plumbing in any working form he recognized. If only he knew a spell for that. Marzo could not so much as find a well. As the decayed architecture became more spread out in his search and gave way to open air it also brought an end to shade, but then a soothing roar came rushing to his ears. This had been a river town. Count Marzo rose his sword, thrust out his amulet and began a chant which ended in his mouth open wide and a torrent of water flowing through the air into it.
Further down to broken cobblestone road's end, near rivers edge, a hooded figure sat on the branch of a towering oak tree that rustled in the wind as he surveyed what was below him. Fifty feet up and still thick enough to support his weight! Soon plants such as these would tear apart what was left of the settlement, but the shape shifters had done his work for him, sucking up the volatile toxins that brought this town's end like water. Already the actual water was drinkable and supporting life again. The returning humans may never recognize the area was developed to begin with, but they would be able to live here, all will proceed as it should, his glorious utopia will be upon the world in a mere millennia. Zasalameland will be a beacon for progress and prosperity! He began laughing out loud but then he noticed a geyser shoot out from the river. That can't be good. The spout curved in mid air and shot out into the ruins. Zasalamel slid off the branches, landing with a stone cracking thud, and broke into a sprint, following the aerial trail.
Marzo had drenched himself and the surrounding area, which was now blanketed by steam as the excess water evaporated and gave some relief to the sun. He reminisced about blanketing populated municipalities with more suffocating vapors and kicked back against a wall to relax until he saw the outline of a man taking shape and approaching him while appearing to ready a disturbing large sickle. "Do you fancy yourself a reaper!" he called out. "I'm afraid you're in the wrong place, as everyone here is already dead or has long since fled besides myself, the immortal Count Marzo!" even as he said this Count Marzo stood straight, then readied his sword and amulet, just in case. No response. Was it a language barrier? He knew he was heard, the fool could not be ignoring his greatness. "The powers of Miro's elders and of Grayskull together looked down upon me and still I stand. Could they not kill me, or did they recognize my genius and spare my life? Either way I repeat to you that I am now immortal! But rejoice, If you truly are a reaper you could be of service to me!" Zasalamel had stopped running for a while now at the realization he was simply dealing with one man wielding an external source of magic. This was much less worrying than the interstellar visitors that preceded. Still, this idiot would have to be dealt with, just in case. Deciphering human language was so easy as to be subconscious at this point, but he must have mistranslated if these was anything but pompous ignorance in those words.
"Your abuse of magic has altered the time stream and potentially disrupted the return of humanity's golden age!" Zasalamel finally responded. "Thankfully this is a common beginner's mistake that is easily fixed. Hand me that trinket and you will be at your previous in space-time point before you realize it!" he continued. Beginner, mistake? The words made Marzo's blood boil. "Stop speaking as if you know anything! I have been a practiced magician longer than you could possibly wrap your balding head around!" Marzo defiantly informed him. "No you have not." Zasalamel said, his patience starting to give way to annoyance. "I am giving you a chance to go back to where you were with your dignity!" he continued. "And I am giving you a chance to study under the best and keep your miserable life!" Marzo retorted. Marzo already had some murderous thoughts in the back of his mind and now they were pushing themselves to the forefront and being redirected towards this man. Marzo's words reinforced Zasalamel's first impression, an idiot was before him. Still, that artifact seemed to be imbued with great power, taking it may in fact take some effort...
Name: Jumps-From-Cliffs (Cliff)
Backstory: Born in the freezing mountains, Cliff came to emulate the attributes of the mountain beasts-strength, grace, and a bit of luck. The 7-foot tall giant of a cat moves as swiftly and silently as his feral brethren. He earned his name leaping from great heights to catch his prey, relying on his athletic ability and good fortune. From high in the mountains one can see for miles, and Cliff yearned to explore the lands he saw stretched out before him. When he came down and heard tales of a guild specializing in adventure, Cliff couldn’t resist his curiosity.