From The Slumbering Deep

Day and night mad little difference to the blind, and in these days of aimless drifting Coete much preferred the solitude of what was darkness to others. Whether it was dark to him was hard to say; he was born blind, and did not perceive 'darkness' any more than he perceived light and colour. Sight was simply a sense he did not have.

He could feel his environment with his magic, however, and he moved along the beach with a weary confidence that could easily convince someone he was sighted. It wasn't confidence that stopped him, not lack of confidence. It was learned wariness.

Coete had had his share of run-ins with dangerous beasts, and dangerous people with the power of beasts. His magic might be stronger now than then, but the leilines of this world were still strange-flavoured when he touched them and much of his body simply ached with exhaustion no matter how much he slept. He could feel a person nearby, though, and slowly approached Carl.

"There is something strange here," he said aloud. Something was... off. Perhaps he would be better able to discern the difference if he were more familiar with this world. For now, the vague difference, as light as a sigh of magic across the hairs that used to line his arm, was all he had.

The chaos didn't make much impact on Coete. Sure, he felt it, but he had literally fought on the front lines of the sort of war where most people could see the whites of their enemies' eyes. That he couldn't see them was in no way attributable to distance.

He stood calm while the ground trembled, the sand under his own feet frozen solid as soon as he felt it shift. Actual skill and knowledge, huh?

"I've killed bigger," he mused allowed. He still felt sorry for Oshyll. The dragon hadn't deserved slavery or death, but he had drawn both and been unable to escape it. What was this thing's story? Did it have one, or was it simply a beast? He cast his magic around it, feeling its shape and size and leaving a brisk chill in the air wherever his mind reached.

After serving under and defending countless masters, some of the more recent having been... less than worth his while, Atlus had grown weary and become inactive. Being an inactive djinn was rather nice but it got boring after a while. Hence his decision, one day, to fall into hibernation in his trusty ol' lamp. One that lasted at least a thousand years, give or take. In that time the lamp had seen many places, with many unaware and unassuming owners opting to use it for decorative purposes. It recently got lost while on a cargo ship headed overseas, and had been drifting across the ocean for months. That was until, one afternoon, it washed up on the shores of Manta Carlos. Nothing had really changed; Atlus was still soundly asleep, after all.

But that night, there had been enough disturbances in the atmosphere around it that Atlus was forced awake. Less than a second later, he was out of his lamp, close in proximity to two others and a strange creature. Annoyed that he was awake, he stared at the creature before speaking, making sure to broadcast his irritation in his tone of voice.

"I gather that one of you is the responsible for the fact that I'm awake right now, yes?"

The throwing Coete didn't really mind. He'd survived worse. The grabbing, though. That he minded. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think -

COULDN'T HEAR

and then he was in the air, gasping for breath even as he quickly started to panic about not being in contact with anything. Fear of lack of contact was a hard thing to break from his completely-limited-to-touch-and-sound days.

Then he hit the ground, kept from breaking bones by the loose sand and his own toughened hide, and just lay there for a few moments. No broken bones hardly meant uninjured, and it took a few rounds of coughing and wheezing before he could haul himself back to his feet and feel around.

The creature seemed to be dead, and stunk of fire-magic enough to flush his skin at this distance. There was a distinct sense of not over lingering, though, and he worked his way back, approaching the irritated newcomer this time.

"I would say that that is responsible for you being awake," he said drily, coughing a few more times and wiping a fleck of blood from the corner of his mouth. "If you aren't interested in helping with whatever's left out there, you might want to sleep somewhere else."

Speaking of whatever else was out there, Coete needed to prepare a bit better. He dropped to the sand, cross-legged, and with a moment of concentration began spinning a thick sphere of ice around himself. He couldn't physically dodge, after all.

How amusing. The first time he wakes up in a thousand years, and it's to a giant beast's ear-splitting screech, and a couple of men being thrown around like rag dolls. "Are people really this weak...?" He muttered to himself, before spotting one of them walking over in his direction.

"...Whatever's left, huh? You mean there's more of them?" This was starting to get interesting. He hadn't had a proper fight in ages, not since shortly before going into a state of prolonged sleep. He sure didn't see anything yet, but that was never a reliable way to gauge danger. He cracked his knuckles and started stretching. He hadn't had any real action in a while, even if he was asleep. Besides, he couldn't go back to sleep now if he wanted to. He was already up. "You'd better be right, or else i was awakened for nothing."

Daniel had been walking outside and reading 'The Color of Magic' when he saw a giant fireball fall from the sky. Shortly after, a horde of people ran past him screaming about monsters.

Daniel cursed his own curiosity, but ran forwards, wanting to see what had happened. Maybe he could help? He did have his books on him, maybe he could be of assistance.

He ran to the beach to see three people standing there.

"Hey, what's going on?" He asked, after catching his breath. He had doubled his pace as he heard the screech, and looked around at the people. "Ugh...Who was burning seafood?"