RE: The Hallows Inn (Full Version)

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TJByrum -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/20/2015 8:09:37)

Moran watched as the young Marcelline approached, dressed as she was. "Pardon," she began. Moran smiled at her politeness, Velen cheerfully perked up and looked at her, while Vaelun grinned and whipped his head towards her. "I heard you say something about a crusade. I am Marcelline, sister of the Eastmarch Church, sent to Darkwald on a mission. Does your crusade coincide with my mission?"

Vaelun let out a boisterous "well!" before extending his arms to each side, throwing his right one in front of Velen's face. "What'd I tell you comrades! Get drunk- and wait!"

Velen huffed and pulled Vaelun's arms back down, looking at him sternly. "This is a woman of faith, here to offer us her support. Try not to act like some vagabond, Vaelun!"

Moran spoke with his shaky, raspy, old voice next. "Bickering and arguing won't slay monsters." He then turned his attention specifically to Vaelun. "Perhaps, my young friend, it would be better to approach such situations with... caution."

Vaelun sighed and rubbed his eyes with both hands. He rested his right elbow on the table, resting his cheek on his hand and looked at Marcelline. "Good morning, young lady. My name is Vaelun. My compatriots here are Velen and Moran. Our... 'crusade'... well, that's what Velen likes to call it. Y'see-"

"We're on a crusade to rid the world of evil," interrupted Velen with her 'heroic tone'. It annoyed Vaelun to no end for someone as naive as her to interrupt. "Brigands, thieves, beasts, nightmares, witches, sorcerers, and the like. Should you share a likemind, we would gladly accept you into our fold."

Moran quickly spoke up. "Er... perhaps witches could be crossed off that list," he said, glancing towards Marcelline, and then at the bat which had entered not long ago. "I hear not all witches are bad."

"Nonsense," argued Vaelun. "Witches are just that: witches. They're a threat to the innocent folk of the world, and they all deserve to have their heads whopped off. Find'em, strip'em, flay'em, kill'em, just like my mentor taught me. And not to mention the payment they can bring!"

"Enough," Velen said loudly, "young lady, do you feel comfortable working with us or no? Once we gain enough support and acquire the necessary funds, Moran here believes we should establish a foundation from which to work from. A castle, or keep so to speak. Moran's mission right now is finding that area for which to build one, while Vaelun and myself seek coin for its construction."




Afina -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/20/2015 10:24:38)

It was the early hours of the evening as Arey approached the town, a thick mantle pulled low over her brow shielding her from the rains as she dragged her blade along the ground. It had been a long trek through the forests, taking much longer than she had expected even after she took into account she would stay off the main road and keep the edge of the forest. She hadn’t wanted to meet up with any travelers as of yet and been forced to make idle conversation. The past weeks had been far too tumultuous and she needed time to rest her mind and compose herself before she had to speak with anyone. Her temper was growing short these days, a fire burning in her that seemed intent on escaping that which bonded it.

Arey did not worry that it would escape; the elder had done her job well and it would remain locked away. Yet what the elder had not warned her about was that when you cage a beast, it will find ways to lash out. Her once quiet and kind demeanor had slowly been pushed to the side for a more volatile persona that was reminiscent of her grandmother. With time and rest each day she found ways to control it but each day that passed this became more and more difficult and when battle ensued, all bets were off. Her tongue became as deadly as her blade.

Taking a deep breath she pressed forward, making her way to the Inn. Seeing the candles flicker in the evening light she took solace that at least this evening she would not be sleeping in the mud or up in a tree once again. Pushing the doors of the Inn open, she nearly slipped on the wet floor. Barely catching herself as she slammed the tip of her blade into the floor to use as balance. “For the love of the gods! Could someone stop ticking off the Elements?” she spat as she righted herself and pulled the hood of her mantle back, the edge of the mantle covering the floor with water as she used the back of her forearm to brush her hair out of her face before she glanced around and quickly pulled the tip of her blade out of the wood. “Sorry about that,” she muttered to no one in particular as she continued to push the droplets of water off her skin as best she could.

Taking a deep breath, Arey finally looked around to see the place for a quick moment before opting to seek food and drink before she sought for lodging that evening. Making her way over to the fire pit she pulled up a chair as she removed her mantle and hung it over another chair close to the fire to dry out and setting her blade next to her. Rubbing her hands together as she rested herself in her seat, enjoying the warmth from the flames as she did a content sigh escaped her lips, not taking much note in her surroundings nor the patrons as she took a moment to just let herself relax for the first time in weeks.




Kellehendros -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/20/2015 16:13:16)

Marietta whet her lips nervously as Sera hesitated, concerned that she had perhaps been too forward with the bounty hunter. She liked the woman, for all she had not expected to do so. The hunter had known others like Sera in the past. Generally, Marietta found sellswords to be greedy, grasping, self-centered, and belligerent. Of course, all the sellswords the half-elf had known before were men, but she was not naive enough to assume the difference was that alone. Sera herself had rubbed Marietta the wrong way initially in the matter with Toren and Lily.

Still, she found that she liked Sera, which was unfortunate, in a way. Marietta had been in Blackwater for over two years now. If she had spoken to Sera sooner, been more welcoming, more open…

Perhaps they could have been friends.

Friends. The word gave the hunter pause. It had been a long time since she had had a friend, since she had had anything other than acquaintances. Was her heart ready for that, really? Could she finally find a way to open that part of herself, the part she had locked away so long ago in fear and anguish? The half-elf was not certain.

There had been so much blood, so much pain and suffering, so much death. And she had locked her heart away behind bars of iron. To unlock those bars meant to let someone in, but could anyone possibly walk knowingly into that charnel house, or having done so, consent to remain?

“You don’t make those choices, Marietta,” whispered a voice from the past, a voice she missed more than she could ever tell. “They just come to you, and you accept them for what they are.” She had always overthought these things, he had told her that…

Marietta blinked the memories away, coming back to herself as Sera returned her answer with a slight nod. The hunter smiled ever so slightly and did as she was bid, leading the bounty hunter through the village, feeling more than a little self-conscious as they arrived at her small, Spartan abode. “It… It isn’t much, but it is home.”

Home, refuge, dwelling, it was small, that much Sera could see as Marietta opened the door for her. The door opened into the half-elf’s small shack, disclosing a combination of living room and kitchen with two visible doors leading to smaller rooms. “Make yourself comfortable.”

The hunter dropped her gear next to the door as she entered, moving to stoke the fire in the grate and set a pot of water to boil. With the pot set, she opened a cupboard, drawing out a box of aged and polished mahogany and setting it on the counter with an air of quiet reverence. Marietta ran her fingers along the top of the box gently, drawing the lid open with a slow, almost ritual, movement. Inside, carefully arranged in labeled compartments, were a number of canisters containing dried and cured tea leaves. The half-elf ran a finger lightly over the tops of the canisters, touching half a dozen for a considering second before making her selection.

Silent still, Marietta produced an infuser and a slender spoon, ladling tea from the canister into the straining ball and sealing it carefully. Dangling the infuser in the boiling water, she moved with a slow, almost stately, pace to another cupboard, opening it and producing a pair of teacups. Turning back to the table, Marietta placed a cup before Sera, and another before her own chair, before moving back to the fire and lifting the soot-blackened pot from its hook.

Returning to the table, Marietta tilted the pot, gracefully pouring each cup full, silent still as she set the pot between them and finally took her seat. Blue eyes gazed into the liquid depths of her cup, and still the half-elf was silent, until at last she spoke, lightly running the tip of her finger along the rim of her cup. “It is called, auspicious venture, this mix.” She explained softly, lifting her cup and inclining it towards Sera ever so slightly. “My… my mother was very fond of tea.”

Marietta lifted the cup to her lips, unable to find a word to speak after that. She took a sip, letting the taste of citrus bring back memories of a time and place so very far away.




brotherinlaw -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/28/2015 9:22:08)

As I walked down the road to Blackwater, I was becoming quite......irked.
I walk to this spot, this is what I...
Stop,stop, STOP! you've been singing that the whole way here. Where did you even hear that?
It just came to me! I tell ya, if I wanted to, I could be a staHEY LOOK! We're there! Here comes the good part!
We see how good the quality town security is. If it's any good, they'll barely take note of us, thanks to the cloak's enchantments. If it's really good and magically fortified, they'll definitely stop us to check the papers of the tall, creepy cloaked guy. Usual stakes?
If you win, you get your dainty bread and cheese with wine, If I win, I get their most expensive stake rare with their heartiest grog. In this creepy place, I call high security!
In this backwater town? Go ahead.

As I walked up to the gate, I hoped they were at least a little good. If they didn't notice me at all, I'd have to climb the palisade, which would be problematic If I ran into the guardsmen later.




TJByrum -> RE: The Hallows Inn (7/2/2015 20:28:59)

Graye at the gates

"Halt," called out a guard as Graye approached the iron gate. When Graye was within view, the guardsman looked him up and down. "What in the..."

"Oi, who's there?" Another guard down below called up the overseer.

"Just some deformed fool. Let'em through." The iron gate creaked and groaned as it swung open and allowed Graye just enough room for passage. As soon as he was inside the guards rushed to close it back, their feet sliding the sloshy mud beneath. "There be no trouble-raising , no settin' fire, no glass breakin', and no killin' here mister, lest you need to defend yourself, aye?" The guard looked the man up and down again. "Pfft."




Jaque

A creaking of wheels lightly echoed throughout the damp forest. A strangely dressed, tall, lanky man walked through the forest in a very mechanical way. His face held an unpleasant grim, his eyes wide open; his expression was very blank, almost to the point it made you feel uncomfortable. He had pale skin, jet black hair, and bright blue eyes. His top hat was surely a foot high, blacked out like the rest of his tailored suit. Thin gray stripes were adorned on the suit. His black shoes, which were very muddy by now, squeaked with each step. Behind him a black pony pulled a small enclosed cart, written on it was "Travelin' Jaque!".

Finally, the strange man reached the top of a hill that overlooked Blackwater in the distance. His smile grew, reaching to his ears almost. After a short pause, Jaque continued his journey down the slope and back into the woods.

It didn't take long to reach the town. As soon as the wagon's squeaky wheels could be heard, the guardsmen rushed up to the top platform above the gate, and saw Jaque. "It's Jaque! Jaque's a comin'! Open the gates, tell the folks!"

The iron gates swung open and Jaque came through unbarred. He never stopped, never said a word, never acknowledged anyone who came by him. He merely strolled to the center of town, on the eastern edge of the Hallows Inn.

"Jaque! Jaque's here," called out one of the guards, banging his iron rod against an old frying pan. "Travelin' Jaque is back! Come out, come out!"

Men, women, boys and girls, brigands and lawmen alike gathered around the small area. Jaque came to a sudden stop as did his pony. Very slowly, the mechanically-moving man reached up and straightened his suit's jacket. He took a few steps to his wagon and pulled a lever. He then began to slowly pull a string down, which lowered the side of the wagon. The sun, glimmering through the clouds as best as it could, instantly shown off of the objects...

"Come one. Come all. Purchase my trinkets, and see your destiny unfold!"




Gingkage -> RE: The Hallows Inn (7/15/2015 9:54:10)

Sera silently walked alongside Marietta as she led the way to her home. She had to admit, as much as she tended to prefer her own company to that of others, she was surprisingly comfortable with the other woman. It had been a long time since that had happened.

Still. This wasn't a friendly visit, but a business one. Chances were high that this would not repeat itself and she couldn't let herself hope for it to be otherwise.

That didn't mean she couldn't enjoy this while it lasted, though, she decided as Marietta opened her door.

“It… It isn’t much, but it is home.”

Sera allowed herself a small self-depreciating chuckle as she answered. "Given that my home more often than not is a sleeping role, your home is leagues ahead of mine." Looking around, she quickly added "It's a nice home. It looks comfortable."

Following the instruction to 'make herself comfortable' she sat down at the table and watched Marietta prepare the tea. It wasn't often she had drinks other than water, and the blend Marietta was preparing smelled nice.

She said a quiet 'thank you' as a cup was placed before her, studying the blend silently as she observed the half-elf. Her mother had believed that when you were a guest, you should always wait to eat or drink anything given to you until your host had started. They were lessons drilled too firmly into her for her to ignore, and so she waited until Marietta had taken her first sip before following suite.

“It is called, auspicious venture, this mix. My… my mother was very fond of tea.”

Quiet tone, tinged with some degree of sadness. Hesitation and the repetition of a word. Eyes looking towards her, but Sera would bet her last coin that the half-elf wasn't truly seeing her, but whatever memory this blend had evoked. This was getting into personal territory for her hostess.

Typically when discussing payment with a client, Sera preferred to get directly to the point so as not to waste time. In this case, however, that would be both tactless and worse, completely insensitive.

Taking another sip, she replied in a tone that was equally quiet, respectful of Marietta's sadness. "I can see why. If all blends are as good as this one is, I'd be fond of it, too."




Kellehendros -> RE: The Hallows Inn (7/18/2015 11:51:33)

Marietta smiled, though the expression was tinged with a sadness nearly as old as she was. It was… It was oddly freeing, sitting in her small home with Sera, rediscovering a part of herself that the elf had thought was long dead and buried.

Perhaps it had been though. The past had been coming back to her, bits and pieces loosening up like a stream beginning to flow, thawing after a long and frigid winter. But was that what she wanted? Was she truly ready to open herself up again and risk that pain after the way things had gone years ago? The half-elf took a slow sip from her cup, thinking. Perhaps she was. It was what they would have wanted of her, the friends she had buried along with what was left of her heart.

But travelling this path would require certain things, and Marietta was not certain if she could bear the weight of those actions, those decisions. Her thoughts went to the box beneath the floor in her bedroom, the box she had never dared to open, and the name that was almost impossible for her to think, much less say. The half-elf’s mind seemed to twitch, shying away from such thoughts.

In the end, perhaps, the only answer was that she was not ready to make those decisions, not yet. For now… For now she would take this one day at a time, or perhaps an hour at a time if necessary. Sera was an acquaintance, one that the hunter was surprised to find she enjoyed spending time with. For now that was enough, and if a friendship was to be… They would find their way there, together.

Marietta’s smile grew slightly, and she inclined her head to Sera, grateful for the compliment. “My mother was an herbalist. There were always plants in the rafters… She crafted all of her own recipes. I was never much good with that sort of thing, but I’ve kept her recipes. If you would like, I can provide you with some of the mix.”

The half-elf shook her head, setting her cup aside. “Forgive me, I have been thinking a great deal about the past recently, but there is a debt that I owe you, and we should speak of that.”




Draycos777 -> RE: The Hallows Inn (7/19/2015 23:21:46)

As Marcelline approached the group of three, and one bat, sitting at the table. Shuyi grew ever more excited, flapping her wings and believing she had caught the girl's attention. However, Marcelline gave her attention to the other three.

"Pardon. I heard you say something about a crusade. I am Marcelline, sister of the Eastmarch Church, sent to Darkwald on a mission. Does your crusade coincide with my mission?" The young, nun-like witch asked them.

At this, Shuyi sighed and tried to get Marcelline's attention by flapping some more around the table. That was the case, at least, until the lady in the metal armor spoke up and went on a tangent about witches. Shuyi, annoyed with the girl, puffed out her wings and chest, and hissed at the blind girl in disgust... as best as a bat could manage. Shuyi then turned to Marcelline and screeched at her again, flying over to the windowsill, of the window she had entered from earlier. Shuyi gestured to the rapidly increasing fog at the town's edge. Even though it had only been a short time, the fog had grown so much, so that one couldn't even see the forest floor, even if they were standing in the fog itself.



Standing at the edge, between the forest and the town was a man dress in all white with a black twin-tail coat vest and a cane. A slight mustache grew on his, otherwise shaven, face and his raven-black hair was hidden underneath a white tophat, except a few strains in the front and back that had gotten loose.

"It's time, my little heirling." The man said in a deep, rhythmic voice to himself. "I've come back to reclaim what you took from us."

As he stood there, two, rather large, shadow foxes came up besides him.

"Yes, you can go now. Take the rest of the pack with you and bring it back to me. If anything gets in the way... you are free to do as you wish."

With that order given to them, the two seemed to bow, then disappeared into the fog.




Kooroo -> RE: The Hallows Inn (7/21/2015 16:59:10)

A cloaked figure dashed among the trees, blades whistling ahead of its every movement. The signal of dawn shone on his mask, breaking him out of his daydream.
This... is boring, were his first thoughts, as he drew a blade from the air and threw it. Shrike was already hurtling after it before it had struck anything.
This had been the trend for the past few hours. The entire ordeal of travelling into the middle of the forest, where some town lay, was mind-numbingly dull. He'd heard stories about this Darkwald, and had disregarded them as myths and stories. If anything about it was true, maybe some deranged necromantic cult or rogues were behind it all.
He could be wrong though. You never knew. This could be one of those magical places in the world. Assuming this world had them. He wouldn't know. He didn't exactly look into them all that much in his few years around.

Whether he was wrong or not wasn't really the point though. Unless he did run into a cult or rogues or whatnot, the legends of the forest were the main reason he was here. Because of the forest, people were hesitant to go in. Meaning he'd be able to have some form of a reprieve here.
Unless, you know. Cult. Rogues. Magic. Whatnot. If any of them wanted to mess with him specifically, he'd have to cut their heads off or run them through before getting on with business.
Branch.
Dagger, up. Leg up, foot forward, brace. Branch, behind. Not clotheslined today either. That was mildly interesting.

This town surely had work to do. He didn't need to be bored out of his skull completely while he waited for the law enforcement in the towns to find some other criminals to favourite and hunt. Hopefully there was an inn or something. And maybe they'll pay... How much would work found at an inn in the middle of nowhere be able to pay anyway?
Hmm. Tree.
Dagger, left. Left leg in, kick. Eh.

Shrike liked money. He didn't need it particularly much, but it was useful. There were many things you could do with it. In a world like this, money got you many things.
Magic and might, sure. They'd help. They were good.
Smarts and a silver tongue? Yeah, that worked too.
Or, you could do it the easy way and just pay cash upfront. Watch their eyes linger on the coins, the smile (or hint of) appear on their lips and you probably had what you wanted. Quick, easy. Efficient. Almost anything you want. Not the cheapest way, sure. But if you had enough of it, then its value was of little importance. Then you could do the maths, with the 'money to effort' ratio and all that....
Wall. Here we go.

He threw a dagger at the tree that was next to him before jumping for the next one. A pull towards the dagger mid-air killed most of his speed and he stopped on the branch. Peace and quiet for the first time in a few hours.
Hmm. 10-11 feet? Not much of a wall.
Shrike glanced around, looking around for any patrolling guards. There didn't seem to be any around this side of the wall. Maybe on the other side though, so a slower approach would be smart. Of course, he could just go through the front. That was certainly an option, but he had no idea if he would be allowed in. Maybe he'd have to haggle his way in, or something. Unsavoury, to say the least.

There was a fog shifting around the town. It was like a very large mob of ghosts was sieging the place to little effect.
Shrike had seen a fortress been attacked by a horde of sheep spirits once. That had been an interesting sight. This fog seemed to be having the same effect, although he was pretty sure the fog wasn't trying to kill anyone or eat the grass inside.
If the fog was the signal of something more ominous, then that made the timing of his arrival good. Or bad. That depended on whether he'd get paid for stopping fog. Although he didn't have the first clue as to how you'd build a fan large enough to clear away all that fog.
Or maybe something was making the fog. Cultists probably. Shrike hoped it was cultists. He hadn't killed any cultists in a few months. Far too long. Cultists were like sheep. They made lots of noise and fun to mess with. Although most cultists were rarely white and most sheep were white. Maybe they weren't quite the same after all.

To business.
A blade into the tree he was standing on and another towards the top of the fence. He wasn't exactly super far from the fence, but he wasn't that close either. He gave a small jump and rocketed toward his anchor, feet first. Before impact, he gave an almighty tug backwards towards his takeoff point, slowing his speed enough to stop him from breaking his legs and swapped anchor points from his feet to his arms.
His feet landed on the fence with two muffled thumps, but nothing more came from the other side of the fence. He'd either spooked them and they were ready to gut him as soon as he hopped over, or there wasn't anyone about. Or he'd spooked them, but they weren't ready to gut anything and were instead wondering what had hit the fence.

Shrike pulled himself to the top of the fence and peered over. Nothing of interest. Houses. Mud. Eh. He was right behind a house, actually. How convenient.
He pulled himself fully over and killed his fall at very last moment to stop mud from splashing too much.
Cheh.

He wandered out from behind the house. Nice place. There were waterlogged flowers next to the landing.
Shrike moved quickly, just on the off chance that someone spotted him though the window.
He walked through the town hastily, as though he had urgent business to attend to so that no one would stop to question him or hold him up. He didn't expect anyone to, but just in case.
The streets were mostly empty though. It was still quite early. Or maybe they were attending to the walls, making sure that the fog didn't overwhelm them... Or something.
That wasn't very funny.

There was a crowd of people up ahead, near an inn. The inn was his destination, but the crowd of people meant something worth looking at was there. Well, probably. A sheep that could do tricks probably wasn't worth it though, so excluding dexterous animals or buskers, it was probably interesting.
Making his way to the front, it wasn't quite what he expected.

A black horse. Or pony. An open wagon. A tall, pale man in a suit and a tall hat. Better than a busker for sure. Much more interesting, but less comedic. Probably.
Shrike walked over to the front of crowd, directly in front of the wagon.
A few eyes were on him instead now, the noises of his breathing another oddity for the townsfolk this morning. Shrike ignored them and appraised the items. Dragon egg. Hilt. Sword. Hmm. Maybe something to spend on for once.
He turned to the merchant.
"Your wares. How much do you ask for them?"




Bastet -> RE: The Hallows Inn (7/23/2015 15:41:02)

Spread your legs farther apart and raise your shoulders, hands steady on the hilt… quicker, or you’ll just become a meaty decoration on the end of your opponent’s sword. Your speed will make up for your insufficient raw strenght!

Physical exercise was not something Symphony often imposed on themselves, as they didn’t need it. Samjet, on the other hand, was hell-bent on teaching them their fighting style, even if he could simply take over Symphony’s body whenever the situation required it. Walking back from the nightmarish encounter they had experienced in the thicker parts of the Darkwald, the man from the Plains was quick to stop Symphony as soon as they found an opening that could be used as training grounds. Close to Blackwater, the glade they had stopped in was one of the few locations in Darkwald where timid rays of sunlight dared pierce the clouds and weaken the forest’s oppressive hold.

Draw!... Sheathe again, that was too slow. Draw! Still too slow, but you seem to have grasped the basics. Remember that you could end the fight as soon as your sword leaves its cover, strike when your enemies least expect it and show no mercy!

As much as Symphony, sweating profusely in their clothes, would’ve liked to complain, they were actually enjoying experiencing the training Samjet had pushed them to undertake. So many things had changed since the spirit had decided to travel to Blackwater. They tossed the sword aside and laid down on the ground, staring at the sky above.

I didn’t say you could stop.

But I don’t need your permission, do I?

At this point Symphony was smiling.

And besides, we’ve done enough for now. Just let me enjoy one of the few moments the sky in this region doesn’t seem like it’s going to crash down on us.

Symphony realized that they had never taken the time to properly observe their demonic form. They ran a hand across their modified body, stopping to examine the colour of their charred skin, crimson hair, almost fascinated. The horns that protruded from their head added to their threatening, if still somewhat attractive, appearance.

Samjet reminded them of his presence with his usual sarcastic tone.

Don’t take too long admiring yourself, there’s some kind of fog surrounding us. We’d better leave this place before we have to face one of those things again.. by ourselves.

O great Samjet the fearless, are you afraid of a simple spawn of this cursed forest?

Fighting Samjet’s sarcasm with their own made Symphony chuckle as they observed a thick mist slither out of the trees around them and making it impossible to even see the ground. Hurriedly, they recovered their partner’s crimson blade, sheathed it and returned to their normal appearance.

I’m just not up for endangering you Symphony, considering that I’d rather not face what would follow if you died here.

The bard finished packing their things and making sure they weren’t forgetting anything before setting off to visit Blackwater once more. Though they were close to the town, they hoped nobody noticed the outbursts of demonic energy that using Samjet’s sword caused. Having to explain them would be… less than convenient.

Alright, big guy, let’s go back.




Symphony’s attenction was immediately captured by Jaques’ appearance, as was Samjet’s. The spirit walked closer to the wagon, following many that already had. They had never heard of the merchant, but the crowd seemed to welcome him as a familiar figure. Making their way to the front of the crowd, the spirit took a moment to observe the wares Jaque offered.

The katana would look interesting, if we didn’t already have one. Heh.

Tch, even if it the quality of that blade was anywhere close that of my family sword, it lacks the enchantments that make it far, far superior.

Touchy, Samjet. I was merely joking.

Symphony walked closer to the exposed dragon egg, farther forward than any other potential customer had. Immediately after they were done bickering with the swordsman they shared their mind with, it had caught their attention. They’d always been fascinated by dragons, partly because of all the stories they had had the chance to hear as part of their profession. While walking, they glanced at an individual wearing a strange mask over his face. They hadn’t seen him in Blackwater before, though they also were new arrivals. Perhaps keeping an eye on him would be wise.

With careful hands, the bard picked up the unhatched egg.

“Jaque, if this really is your name, could you tell me more about this egg?”





TJByrum -> RE: The Hallows Inn (7/25/2015 12:06:15)

Jaque
Shrike was the first to approach the strange Jaque. "Your wares. How much do you ask for them," asked the man.

With an unnerving grin, and a slow moving head, Jaque - who towered over Shrike - looked at him and said with a squeaky voice "a modest price for each," he began, "but the highest price you will pay is yet to come," he finished quite ominously, implying some of the items may be more trouble than they were worth.

The next to approach was Symphony, who was interested in the dragon egg. “Jaque, if this really is your name, could you tell me more about this egg?”

This time Jaque's grin seemed to grow even bigger; he took an obvious liking that someone picked up the egg. "That I found on my own, in a deep cave set within a mountain," he said. But this story wasn't the same story he told to the last dozen potential buyers. "Dormant for now, but who knows what the future holds? Maybe the dragon within is long dead, or still alive and only in stasis. Only time will tell."


Brothers of the Sword - One Month Ago
"And it is by this decree that I, Emperor Constantine IV, name you Brothers of the Sword. From here on out the will of our Most Holy shall be carried out exclusively by you, not only as a brotherhood, but as a sovereign state, a branch of my own empire. There shall be no crimes for which your members can be held accountable for. There shall be no ruthless actions taken against thee, lest your enemies want to feel the wrath of Constantine's War Machine. Now rise, Brothers of the Sword."

Eight armored men, obviously knights, stood up after being formally knighted as Swordbrethren. The Emperor sheathed the blade he had used to place on each man's shoulder, signifying their knighthood. "On this day, we swear to serve the Most Holy, and only the Most Holy, to carry out his will any way we can, to destroy the heretics and the pagans who denounce his claims. For we are Brothers of the Sword, and there are none who shall stand in our way."

The ceremony was over, and all of the nobles from across the land roared in triumph and clapped and stopped. The knights could not help but smile, looking around at their supporters. The First Eight. "My brothers," announced Knight-Commander Garan, "it shall be an honor to carry out Most Holy's wishes alongside you. Now, my Emperor, what is your will?"

"My will is the Most Holy's will, for he speaks through me, as claimed by the Condune himself. Your first act under the Order shall be to establish a foothold to the northeast, in the forests around Blackwater."

"The Darkwald, you mean," asked one of the knights.

"Indeed," the Emperor replied. "But fear not, no monster shall harm you with the Most Holy looking down on you. Go there and spread the word of our Shepard, for his flock needs more sheep. Your success there shall merit you the domain of the Darkwald, the town of Blackwater shall be yours, and all its people yours to govern as you see fit. I have for you, Ser Garan, a contingent of volunteers who shall follow you into the Darkwald. Now go my Brothers, and bring this world into our fold - into the flock of our Most Holy."




Vanir -> RE: The Hallows Inn (7/26/2015 1:21:21)

Several days ago...

The log was riddled with ants and woodlice.

It had once been a very large tree; an elder of the forest who protected many small rodents and birds that liked to nestle the arms of its canopy. But no titan can stand against thousands of ravenous jaws biting, burrowing, tearing, and eating away it its flesh. Ants had made the trunk of the titan their home, and each summer they would chew deeper into the heartwood, and limbs that were cut off from the warm gush of nutrients crashed to the ground. Each arm fell like a church bell, marking the hour of the once great elder's approaching funeral. One summer, the wealth of dying flesh accumulating at the head of the elder became too great. He breathed his last, and with a prayer, released his knees and fell with an echoing thump.

That was long ago; now the log had become a bustling city. The ants still controlled the territory. They were responsible for the majority of the infrastructure and kept the other denizens safe from centipedes and other predators. The growing population of woodlice had resulted in a few fights over territory, but the intelligence and combined might of the ants kept them quiet. Currently the log was home to one giant member. The young man Worms was doing all he could to stay hidden in the large, hollow log.

He pulled his scarf over his mouth and chin to avoid breathing in any spores from the fungal colonies growing on the inside. “This might be my home for the rest of the evening. I hope you don't mind,” Worms whispered to the many insects crawling around the log. He shifted to a more comfortable position and knocked a few woodlice off of the roof of the log on accident. They fell onto his face, but instead of squealing, Worms sighed. He was comforted by them. The lice told him that their quarrel with the ants would wait until he was safe.

Worms had been hiding in the log to escape a small mob of paranoid farmers that had chased him from their town. Worms had been living there for over a month doing odd jobs and menial tasks, most of which included shovels and animal dung. The community was disgusted with him from the moment they first saw him, but they tolerated him as long as he completed the particularly disgusting or laborious jobs that no one else would do. After a week of sleeping outside, a kind old pig farmer took pity on him and, against the exhortation from his wife, allowed him to stay in his barn with the hogs. Worms lived happily there with the pigs; he could eat all the pig slop his heart desired, and grew proud of working for the old farmer. Problems began to arise when the neighboring planter reported corn sap beetle larvae in his crop. Other farmers reported similar cases of unusually high populations of insect pests. When the pig farmer found that the fences Worms had built were infested with carpenter ants, the people of the town were all too eager to get rid of the black worm, as they began calling him. A swarm of biting flies gave Worms a head start, but the mob was quickly at his feet. Worms can move extremely quickly, but not over a long distance. Aware of his limits, he ran towards a foreboding forest and hid in the large fallen tree.

He heard the mob arrive at the edge of the forest. They shouted into the depths of the wood, “Come on outta there you perverted little worm!”
“What did I tell you? I knew he came from that accursed wood!”
“He's a vampire! I seen him lookin at my daughter with this red eyes uf his!”
“Been hexing us with plaques. I tell ya the frogs are next!”

Eventually, the taunting and conspiring began to die down. Worms heard them shuffle around and regroup, whispering among themselves. He could not hear what they were saying, but he could tell they were too afraid of the woods to search it for him. After about an hour the crowd dispersed and folks went home.

“Why are they so afraid of the forest?” Worms asked the ants around him. He had never been in these woods before. He certainly was not able to talk to the farmers about the geography of the land he was in. For the last several years he had been running from place to place; the locals never allowed him enough time to learn about the world he was living in.

“You guys have it easy. A big community working together for the benefit of everyone under the rule of a beautiful, benevolent queen. That is an ideal government. Everyone has a job, and everyone is provided for. Why can't my people be like you? We kill each other over such trivial things. Which brings up, why'd you'll sell me out? I spent so much energy building those fences for Mr. Donaldson. They weren't for you... I know. I forgot. There is no property in ant society. No, you could learn from my people. You have no restraint, no respect. Those people are right. You are a plague. You'll die soon anyway, but I wish I could torch you myself.”

Worms angrily pulled his crooked body from the log. He stood tall and stretched while muttering, “I can't take this anymore.” Slouching over, he stared into the darkness of the woods ahead of him. The sun had yet to reach its maximum height in the sky, but he did not remember any clouds that morning. Regardless of the weather outside of the forest, a dark haze blanketed his surroundings and the air tasted stale. “They must love this place.”

A drop of water tumbled out of the haze and collapsed onto his shoulder. Worms raised his chin and peered through the tops of the trees. “Rain.”



Present...

Worms had been hiding out in Darkwald for several days before finding the town hidden in the center of the thick wood. His first day was very enjoyable. Despite the rain he had an extravagant time exploring the dark forest and meeting all of the local insect life. Once night came, however, the situation turned. Worms usually inhabits night and darkness very comfortably, but this night was different. Strange noises kept Worms awake all night, and the dampness of the air and the earth, although invigorating during the day, seemed to drain away at his energy after nightfall. Worst of all, was that his friends failed to comfort him like they normally do. They whispered among themselves and scuttled out of sight.

The next few days were spent much like the first, meeting new friends and foraging for food. The flies would tell him when a fresh, or stale, carcass was nearby. Worms never bothered to cook his meats; maggots enjoyed them raw, and so could he. However, the situation made him extremely uncomfortable. The flies urged him to cut off a hunk of the meat and quickly run from the area. He had received tips from flies previously, but the cache normally consisted of only scraps that predators had left behind. These bodies, mostly animals, though he did find one man, still bore most of their flesh, but were dreadfully mutilated. Worms dared not think about what may be coming to finish the job and clean up the mess.

The nights were all very similar in their terror, but the last night was the worst. All of the other nights Worms was able to get a few hours of sleep, but not on that night. The horrifying sounds oozing from the darkness climaxed all in one short burst. A terrible, gut wrenching shriek broke the silence. It was as if all of hell's torment descended upon one creature in a split moment. The call invoked a petrifying chill down Worm's sharp spine, echoing within his own twisted nightmares. The darkness repeated the call again and again, growing in wretched anguish with each reverberation, until at last, silence. Worms decided that that would be his last night in the forest, fearing that his own screams might oscillate endlessly through the void of night.

When an eerie squeaking pierced Worms' ears at daybreak, he vocalized many praises for the life giving Sun and all that is innocent and sweet upon the earth. He followed the squeak until it brought him to a road. Afraid that men were looking for him, he had been purposefully avoiding the road, but now it became a stream from the fountain of youth, and a stairway to salvation. The source of the squeak was revealed to be a horse and cart led by, in Worms' opinion, a particularly stylish, dapper man, who he followed to a well defended town.

Worms peered at the large palisade gate from the safety of the shadows cast by the ominous flora of the forest. He watched carefully as the men on guard gleefully ushered the strange, tall man and his cart through the gate. Worms waited in hiding until he was certain the guards would not think that he had been following the squeak and suit all morning.

“Halt there. Who are you?”

Worms began to panic. Stupid! He forgot to come up with some response to tell the guards. He normally avoided any sort of urban settlement, especially one with walls. Who am I?

“I-I...” Worms stuttered quietly, unsure of his direction. “I am-”

“Hold on.” A guard cut him off, not even hearing him. “Hey, get a look at this kid.”

A second guard joined the first and whispered, “Oh. Dark skin.” He then raised his voice to address Worms. “We don't see many a your folk coming through here, forgive us fer being a bit suspicious. Why are ya so far away from home?”

The first guard spoke again, “Let'em in. The poor kid ain't gonna hurt anyone.”

“Nah. 'Member five days ago those men came, farmers I think, said they were looking fer a young southerner. I ain't seen any others have you?”

“Come on, look at him. He looks like he's been crawling around in the mud for a week. Jeez, those gnats love him. He's just another beggar, probably with that guy you let in earlier.”

“Hmph... Yeah. He probably don't even speak. Alright you can come in so long as you don't start no trouble. And don't bring none with you either. Been a lot of strange folk coming in and bringing trouble with 'em. These walls here supposed to keep the trouble out.”

The guards opened the gate and let Worms through, releasing a wave of relief as he crossed the threshold and into the town. He followed the sound of commotion to the center of the borough, where he saw the striped suit. The squeaky cart was now open, and several eye catching items were on display, obviously the tall man was some kind of merchant. Worms, preferring to avoid crowds, slumped against one of the wooden houses adjacent to the little square where the black peddler had set up shop.

His vantage point offered a good view of the larger objects on display as well as the more unusual folk surveying the items. Two of them looked just as much out of place among the muck and grime as the striped suit was. One wore a smooth, metal mask over his face which made Worms and his friends very nervous. The other was a women with startlingly violet hair. His eyes fixated on the violet. It was a deep color, dark and proud. It was brave and strong, but also enigmatic and free. Beautiful.

The gnats circling Worms head finally caught his attention and broke the spell of the blue hair. “These people don't seem... natural.” He muttered.

“Where am I?”




Gingkage -> RE: The Hallows Inn (7/27/2015 15:08:16)

“My mother was an herbalist. There were always plants in the rafters… She crafted all of her own recipes. I was never much good with that sort of thing, but I’ve kept her recipes. If you would like, I can provide you with some of the mix.”

Sera smiled slightly in appreciation at the offer. She was a loner by nature, and it was the rare person who approached her for reasons that were not selfish in nature, such as the ever-prying words of Kitsondra, or clients seeking her skills. She was so reticent that of the few who ever tried for genuinely friendly conversation, fewer still continued making the attempt. The few friends she had ever had she had lost either to death or, in the case of Theron betrayal or apparent betrayal. And in Theron's case especially, she had been soured off of the idea of both teamwork and forming friendships. They were too temporary, and lost too painfully, for her to find the enjoyment in them she used to.

She forcibly derailed that train of thought, pushing it from her mind as she answered the offer of some of the blend with a genuine "I would appreciate it. Thank you."

She decided she liked Marietta. It was almost a pity that likely their interactions after the payment had been concluded would return to what they were before; namely that they didn't have interactions. The half-elf's company was enjoyable, and the conversation pleasant. She found herself surprisingly comfortable with her. That hadn't happened in a long time.

But nothing lasts forever, and the comfortable atmosphere was broken as the other woman spoke up again.

“Forgive me, I have been thinking a great deal about the past recently, but there is a debt that I owe you, and we should speak of that.”

Shoving her sudden and unexpected disappointment at this, she set her cup to the side, relaxed posture replaced with a more business-like one.

"You're correct," she agreed with a nod. "I've gone over the job I took for you multiple times. As my skills proved to not be needed so much as my presence was, it doesn't seem a fair trade to ask for more than one lesson with the bow, if you still feel that to be a fair price that you are willing to pay. I will leave the duration of said lesson to you to decide."




Draycos777 -> RE: The Hallows Inn (7/31/2015 15:29:28)

It had been awhile since Kitsondra had entered her room, and it felt nice to have an actual door to open again. The spell she had placed on the door frame had worn off while the laborers fix the Hallows and, hopefully, won't be needed once again. Kitsondra, however, didn't dwell on the confort of the sturdier door for very long. Since she began writing a letter the moment she entered her room. Kitsondra hoped this feeling she had was wrong, but, if it wasn't she'd need help and the was one person she knew she could turn to. The only living member of her old team she was still friends with, Minus.

After sending out the letter with one an eagle illusion, powered up a bit more in order to last the flight, Kitsondra took her first look outside since coming back. As she peered out the window her heart sank and looked as if her skin became even paler, when she saw the fog.

"Damn... so I was right. Will I be able to hold out til Minus gets here?"

Kitsondra pushed the thought aside and shook her head. She'd have to hold out no matter what. After all, she'd come to far to fail now. She could ask the others in Hallows, but that risked the chance of them finding out she wasn't completely human. There was no way she could ask Marcelline, not with an opponent like this. That left only one option left, she'd need to use the sword. Kitsondra wasn't very fond of the idea, but she didn't really have the leniency of not using it in this situation.

Grabbing a knife laying on her desk, Kitsondra ripped a hole into the side of her mattress and trusted her hand into it. Digging around until she felt something hard, Kitsondra grasped it and pulled her hand back out, revealing a black tome whose front cover was adorn in bule runes and had four gems in the middle making a diamond pattern.

Quickly making her way out of the room, Kitsondra hurriedly headed downstairs, where she found Shuyi near a group a new adventures and Marcelline. As soon as the bat saw Kitsondra walking towards them, it flew straight towards her and landed on her shoulder. Kitsondra looked at Marcelline.

"Marcelline, I don't have the time to explain in detail right now, however, a dangerous foe is approaching Blackwater. You should stay inside the Inn, where it's safe for now."

Kitsondra in turned to the three sitting at the table and bowed her head a bit. "Adventures. It's nice to meet you all. Unfortunatlly, as you just heard, it would seem you picked a bad time to come here." Kitsondra then looked a them all in the eye; "Or a good time, depending on why you're here. However, this foe isn't one that's to be underestimated. Please refrain from being reckless."

With that Kitsondra left the four and head towards the back of the Inn. Opening the tome, Kitsondra flipped to a page with a magic circle drawn on it; runes filling the page. Kitsondra put the book on the floor and bit her right thumb, placing it on the bottom of the page. The bat, like-wise bit it's own right wing, and placed it on the top of the page. Almost as if the tome had a will of it's own, the magic circle drew in the blood and turned red.

"With this contract between master and servent." Kitsondra began chanting as soon as the circle was completely red. "The binding that hold you are hereby broken. Now, Shuyi, servent and guardian of the Yates family. Walk once more in your original form."

The magic circle glowed as Shuyi, the bat, began to grow. First to appear where arm, legs, hands and feet. The grey fur disappeared and was replaced by clothes and grey hair. Purple bat eyes changed into violet human eyes.

"Ahhh, changing forms really sucks. I feel all wobbly like this now, and the bugs I've been eating taste like puke."

It front of Kitsondra was what appeared to be a girl no older then Marcelline. Her hair was gray and reached down to her shoulders with very long strands on either side of her head, almost reaching her stomach. The ends of her hair are messy and unruly and she had a small mouth and ears.

The girl wore a black, shrine maiden-like outfit. The top is made up of a black, semi-openback tanktop, held in place by two, oxblood colored, strings that are tied together at the back of her neck. Over this is a black, cloth vest with semi-long sleeves that end half-way down her forearms. The edgings of the sleeves, of the vest, are trimmed with two parallel oxblood lines as well. Next to the shoulders, at the start of the sleeves, is an oxblood colored section with black lines criss-crossing within, that wraps around the entire sleeves. From a distance, this gives the impression that the sleeves are detached, when in reality, they are not. In the center of the tanktop is a vertical oxblood line that begins at the top of the shirt, where the strings are connected to, until it meets with a much larger, horizontal oxblood section. This section covers the stomach and ends at the bottom of the shirt, stopping at the waist; this section also wraps around, in a complete circle, the entirety of the shirt.

The bottom part of the outfit is a black skirt. The front and back of the skirt is folded, making a rippling, wave pattern. On the sides of the skirt, the image of a golden, eastern dragon is woven into the cloth. The dragons are shown flying horizontally through rainbow colored clouds; the dragon on the left flying towards the back, while the one on the right flies forward. On her legs are black stockings and crimson sandals.

The girl stretched out her legs, arms and hands for a few seconds, getting re-ajusted to her body.

"Shuyi," Kitsondra spoke to get the girl's attention; "go and get the sword for me. I'll try and keep him busy for as long as possible."

"Yeah, I know." Shuyi stretched out her right hand and summoned a black sycthe. She then rested it on her shoulder. "Will you be ok though? I mean he is stronger then you after all."

"I'll be fine." Kitsondra said, then a faint smile appeared on her lips. "I'm counting on you and I know you won't let me down."

"Peer pressuring me much?" Shuyi sighed, and then returned Kitsondra smile with her own. "Fine, leave it to me."

With that, Shuyi opened the Inn's back door and disappeared behind it. Kitsondra quickly turned and headed back towards the Inn's front.




Entering the town unnoticed was fairly easy, even with his whole pack of twelve with him. The hard part would be locating the item that his lord wanted back. A sword with a large amount of magic aura. Since shadow foxes didn't possess the ability to tell different types of magic apart, they would have to search the entire town. The inn and the chruch had the largest amounts of magic so these two building would be the start. A large number of humans had gathered outside the front of the inn; this could prove useful for him. Four of his pack would scare the humans and in the panic, he and his mate will enter the inn, while another two will go around the back. Two others will check the chruch for anything will the remaining two will inspect the outer houses and work their way inward.

With their orders the foxes set out on their mission. The packleader and his mate waited for the four to begin the distraction, hiding in the shadows of the nearby houses. Once the heard the screams of the people and saw them running away in a panic, they made a break for the inn's entrance.



The four were ordered to make a distraction so that the packleader and his mate could enter the inn without a problem and then secure the cart full of magical items. Leaping out, the four shadow foxes scared off most of the humans simply by growling at them. Watching such creatures running away in a panic was quite amasing for them to watch. How could such strong beings be so weak at the same time? Their master said it was because human, unlike most living creatures, don't practice culling their weak and sick ones. Thus diminishing their overall strengh. The four didn't unstand the reasoning behind it, however, they weren't human so they doubted that they ever would.

Now that the first phase had been completed, next was to take out the ones who hadn't fled. If they didn't, the four were sure that the remaining humans would be problematic in their taking of the magic horse cart.




Kellehendros -> RE: The Hallows Inn (7/31/2015 22:23:58)

Marietta watched the woman sitting across the table from her. The half-elf took a slow sip from her tea, observing Sera’s posture as it visibly tightened. Setting her cup aside, the bounty-hunter straightened up at the mention of business. It was like a veil had come between them, and for her part, the hunter was immediately sorry that it had. She should have let the matter rest a little longer. If her father were still alive he would have rebuked her for such poor manners. Upsetting a guest, and the first guest she had had inside her home in a long time. Etiquette, social graces, these things had withered in her, though more than one of her old friends had told her she had hardly possessed them to begin with.

Somehow, Marietta had a feeling that there were some ways in which she and Sera were very much alike. One of them seemed to be that each of them was playing a part, acting out an expected role, using it as cover. For the first time in a long time, the half-elf wanted to pull that veil aside. She considered the matter, drinking her tea as Sera spoke.

As the bounty hunter finished, Marietta smiled gently and set her own cup down. Without responding to Sera’s words, the hunter rose and crossed the small kitchen to the mahogany box that contained the carefully labelled and store tea mixtures. Opening the box, Marietta drew out the slender metal canister of auspicious venture and returned to the table. The half-elf set the canister down near Sera, and then lifted the pot and topped off the cup before her own empty chair. “The canister is only half-full, for which you have my apologies. I will make more, once I have time to gather the leaves and herbs necessary. Perhaps, if you wish… you might visit me and try some of the other mixtures my mother concocted?”

She inclined the pot towards Sera in offering, taking a moment to consider how she would frame her reply to Sera’s words, and what it was that she wanted. Marietta glanced at the bounty hunter. “Your skills may not have been used, but your presence was, and I find that your presence was both useful and… appreciated.” The half-elf hesitated for a moment, and then forged ahead. “What I propose is this: you will meet me at the gate at dawn, and I will take you to a clearing not far from town where I practice. I will teach you what I can.” Her eyes flicked away from Sera, coming to rest on the shamshir hung upon a hook on the wall near the door. “Be it one lesson, or a hundred, I will teach you what I can. In return... I want you to teach me to use a sword.” There were some things that it was past time that she had learned. She only hoped she had the strength and resolve to follow the path before her. Perhaps she could, with a little help from a friend.




TJByrum -> RE: The Hallows Inn (8/2/2015 9:37:57)

Cries, yells, and sounds of fright erupted from outside the inn. Vaelun and Velen instinctively turned their heads towards the window to see what the fuss was about. A pack of about four shadowy looking foxes were scaring the townsfolk away. Jaque merely stood there as if nothing was happening.

"Go," Moran said bluntly, moving his fingers around the top of his gnarled staff and then closing his eyes. Vaelun and Velen jumped up, hands on their swords hilt, and bolted out the door where the foxes were. A band of other men and women from the inn clambered towards the windows and looked upon the conflict while Sloan tried pulling them away and closing the shutters.

"Kill them, kill them all," commanded Vaelun to his comrade, "and hope someone has the coin to pay us for it." Vaelun- being trained to fight such creatures- charged at the shadow foxes and prepared to slay them. Velen approached from behind Vaelun, a bit more cautious but obviously loyal and courageous.

Across the ways, on the other side of the foxes, Jaque smiled larger than he ever had and reached into his rugged black coat. He drew out a short rod attached to some sort of handle and pointed it at the foxes in case they tried to come to him. "Firearm," the eccentric man said quietly, waiting patiently and without fright.




Legendium -> RE: The Hallows Inn (8/4/2015 10:06:32)

Essex stood next to his horse mule on top of the small hill looking over the settlement of Blackwater. The village was hemmed in by the forest, with trees ominously looming over the palisade walls. A river ran through it, though much smaller than the one from Essex's hometown. The only building of note was a very large inn spanning the river. The Hallows Inn. Essex's destination.

A few weeks ago, the trail Essex had been following had run dry and he had been used yet again - so he had had to start over, as he had done multiple times. Just last week, he had infiltrated a party hosted by a very prominent baron who owned a vast collection of books in order to speak with one of his guests, the High Priestess of the mountain clans in Friesland. She had been visiting to see his collection of books, and luckily for Essex, by befriending the baron's rebellious son, he was gained knowledge of a secret entrance into the library and was able to get an audience from her.



A week ago:

Essex was apprehensive as he pushed the back of the bookcase forward and stepped into the candlelight of the library. Would the high priestess recognize the symbol on his rune stone? Or would she call the guards and have him put in prison for trespassing? Too late to back out now though.

The priestess was right in front of Essex, with her back turned to him, poring over some ancient texts that Essex would probably not comprehend. Her robes were white and elegant, yet the way her golden hair spilled down her back made her seem almost like a mountain lion. Despite her exterior illusion of elegance, Essex could tell there was a raw power hidden inside her that fit with her mountain clan heritage. This was not a woman you wanted as an enemy.

Essex cleared his throat, hoping he wasn't about to do exactly that. The priestess turned around suddenly, and rather than calling for the guards, sized him up quickly. Essex shuddered. Those icy blue eyes seemed to see right through him. He didn't like it.

"What are you doing here, young man? I specifically asked the guards not to let any of the other guests in."

Essex took his rune stone off of its cord and tossed it to the woman as an answer. Catching it, she said

"You still haven't answered me, boy."

"I was left with this rune stone in front of an orphanage. It's the only thing left to me by my parents and I'd like to know what it means."

Essex considered telling her about the powers it gave him, but decided some things are better left until later.

Examining the stone, a look came over the priestesses face. Essex couldn't quite place it. Somewhere between shock and understanding.

Hands slightly shaking, the priestess threw the rune stone back to Essex.

"You're on the right track. That rune was written by your father, my brother. It's his rune style, that's for certain."

She was interrupted by the sound of a door opening somewhere in the library's halls. Turning back to Essex, she said.

"You must go now, back through whatever tunnel you came from. Meet me in the Darkwald in ten days' time. Ask the Red Lady - she'll know where I am."

With that the Priestess walked off through the corridor, bundling her papers up and bringing them with her.



Present day:

Essex stood in front of the gates of Blackwater wondering what on earth was going on. The gate guards he had spotted earlier upon the hill had disappeared and he heard screams coming from nearby. It seemed something was attacking the settlement.

"Hello?" Essex called from the foot of the gates. "Can someone open up these gates please?"

Getting no response, Essex had to think of another way in. There was a tree near the gate which looked relatively easy for someone like Essex to climb. From there, he could probably jump onto the roof of a building without hurting himself too much.

Leaving mule behind and reassuring her that he would open the gates for her soon, Essex headed towards the tree. Climbing up, Essex finally gained a view of what was going on in the town. In the center, there was a cart and a few odd individuals being attacked by what looked like four, gigantic black foxes. Not a common sight. Also not a situation Essex would usually get himself involved in. However, these foxes were threatening the town, and thus also the Red Lady and his ticket to finding out about his parents and rune stone. With a sigh, Essex slid Striker off his back and attached his bowstring to her. Dropping down onto the roof of the guardhouse, Essex drew an arrow from his quiver and let his rune stone take over his sight.

The foxes glowed with mana - they were obviously magical creatures which could potentially mean that his rune stone couldn't see what their inside looked like. However, because they were magical creatures based on real ones, he saw where a fox's heart would be and decided shooting there would be a safe bet.

Choosing the fox running in a straight line, Essex loosed the arrow, aiming just below where the fox's shoulder blade would be in a matter of seconds.

After a few tense moments, Essex heard the fox's scream and looked to see where the arrow had struck. The fox had gone faster than Essex had calculated for, and the arrow was now sticking out of its back. And now there was an angry fox wondering which of the puny humans had stuck an arrow in it's back.

Essex decided to move closer to the fight, and dropped down from the guardhouse. He'd let one of the other warriors make a move before firing another arrow.




Gingkage -> RE: The Hallows Inn (8/4/2015 18:24:53)

Sera watched in silence as Marietta stood from the table, walking back towards where she stored the tea. In equal silence, she observed the woman grabbing something and then walking back, placing it in front of her in a manner that Sera would have almost said was shy and hesitant.

“The canister is only half-full, for which you have my apologies. I will make more, once I have time to gather the leaves and herbs necessary. Perhaps, if you wish… you might visit me and try some of the other mixtures my mother concocted?”

Ah. She understood what Marietta was attempting. This was an effort to regain the comfortable, relaxed atmosphere that had been dispelled by the mention of business. It was also... strange. When was the last time she'd had a friend? The last time someone had made an effort to get to know her?

She had honestly given up on the idea of companionship. Spending time in the presence of others only when necessary. How strange that the first person in years to try and get to know her would be someone who was as much a loner as herself. Sera almost felt as if she and Marietta were participating in some strange dance, neither quite sure how to truly get to know the other, and both not entirely comfortable with the social niceties that the average person used freely and ably to gain companions.

Well. If Marietta were willing to make the effort, it would be in bad form for her to do any less.

"I think I will," she replied, smiling slightly and nodding her head in thanks. She had little time to do much more than take another sip of tea before the half-elf was again speaking.

“Your skills may not have been used, but your presence was, and I find that your presence was both useful and… appreciated. What I propose is this: you will meet me at the gate at dawn, and I will take you to a clearing not far from town where I practice. I will teach you what I can. Be it one lesson, or a hundred, I will teach you what I can. In return... I want you to teach me to use a sword.”

Sera's attention sharpened at the offer. Another trade? And this one a much more mutually beneficial one than she had ever participated in. A teaching of one skill in exchange for the learning of another on both their parts. It was an intriguing offer. A small corner of her mind was bringing up the fact that if she agreed to this proposal, Marietta was technically gaining her earlier services for free. She shut that voice up for favor of giving this proposal her full focus. She had admittedly never taught anyone swordsmanship. But she remembered the lessons her father had given her, and following Marietta's gaze saw that the blade was similar to her own. It would handle similarly, which would help immensely as it gave her familiar ground to work with.

"Dawn, then," she agreed with a small smile and nod. There was no time to say or do anything else when she heard terrified screams coming from outside.

She was at the door before she was aware she had moved, sword already drawn as she opened it, stepping outside to see... were those foxes? Rather large for foxes, and she'd never seen any that looked like that. But for all that those shadowy figures were as large as some dire wolves she had seen once, and for all that they were, after all, shadowy, they definitely looked like foxes.

It would appear Marietta was going to learn a thing or two about swords a bit earlier than planned.




Kellehendros -> RE: The Hallows Inn (8/5/2015 22:27:23)

Sera’s agreement was a welcome relief to the half-elf. She had been able to feel herself tensing, subconsciously afraid of what the bounty-hunter’s reply was going to be. Marietta let out a soft breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, and smiled tentatively, something in her posture loosening, relaxing. Sera was probably finding this as awkward as she was, and for a moment the half-elf almost had to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. They were two strong and independent women, and here they were dancing awkwardly around each other like two schoolgirls on their first day.

She glanced at the bounty-hunter, nodding as Sera agreed to the meeting time that Marietta had offered. Yet there was no time for further conversation, for a chorus of screams and cries split the silence. The half-elf was on her feet as swiftly as the bounty-hunter was, crossing the room at a dash. The hunter was slower out the door than Sera was, but it was not for a lack of reaction speed or any less of a desire to find out what was going on. Marietta checked her headlong rush for several seconds to reclaim her gear, belting on the shamshir, slipping the baldric holding her quiver over her shoulder, and snagging her unstrung bowstave before rushing out the door after Sera.

Marietta looked around swiftly, her hand going down to the pouch at her waist and drawing out a string for her bow. She slipped the notch of the lower arm of the bow through the loop on one end of the string and then stepped through the bow treating Sera to a sight that few in town had witnessed. The slender half-elf ran a hand up the stave, taking hold of the upper arm and giving a soft grunt of effort as she bent the heavy greatbow back using the weight of her body and the leverage provided by her braced legs. Marietta slipped the other end of the string over the notch and slowly released the bow. The weapon gave a gentle creak, and the half-elf hefted the weapon as though considering its weight. Apparently it met her approval, because she stepped up next to Sera and set an arrow against the string.

There was a blur of black, and Marietta’s head snapped to the left, following the motion. Sapphire eyes narrowed, making out the swift-moving forms of creatures that appeared to be foxes, though they were larger than any she had seen. The hunter frowned slightly, half-drawing back on the arrow. “Sera, those things look familiar to you?” The half-elf thought she recognized the things, and what her mind had immediately settled on was a shadowy fox conjured up by Kitsondra. What reason the woman might have for terrorizing the town, Marietta had no idea, but someone would have some questions to answer once this was sorted out.




Kooroo -> RE: The Hallows Inn (8/8/2015 16:46:19)

Shrike tilted his head slightly at Jaques' reply.
Riddles. He hated riddles. Most people he'd known throughout his life had never bothered with them.

He inspected the sword hilt and the katana on display. It was a very nice blade. He was slightly interested to see if it compared to the one at his waist at all, bu-
Growling?

Screams. Panic. People started running every direction to get away from the 4 fairly large foxes.
Black foxes. Hmm, the wild life around here was different.

Maybe they were magical?
Shrike snorted. He lost majority of his magic detection long ago. If he caught something with his face or shielded someone with his body, he might be able to tell though.
Not on the agenda.

Most of the people had dispersed, and only the foolhardy or skilled remained. A couple more charged out of the inn he had been heading towards, ready to fight the beasts.
The merchant pulled out some obviously magical stick, claiming it was a firearm. Shrike merely stared at the foxes.
About time this forest did something.

He watched as an arrow whistled from high, thudding into a fox, which didn't seem overly amused judging from its snarls and growls. Its shooter dropped and slowly crept towards the fight.

There were wannabe-heroes everywhere. He was pretty sure that they'd be able to handle it. Hopefully. Otherwise, he'd have to do work and he wasn't sure that anyone would pay him. Maybe the townsfolk would give him a reward?
'"Thank goodness you slew the beasts before they ate everyone! Here, have our finest gold cup! We've been hoarding our treasures for the Goblin King should he ever demand payment, but you may have them if you find and slay him! That, and more! We shall celebrate with a great feast!"

"I don't eat or drink."

"Takeaway?"'


Weirder things have happened before.

He kept his eyes on the foxes around him.
Four.
Were anymore in the town, looting and pillaging? What did foxes around here do when they attacked the populace anyway?
Play cards.

Shrike kept an eye on the foxes in front of him, formulating potential actions. Unless these foxes were holograms or illusions or pacifists (vegetarians or vegan, even?), he doubted they'd stand there and get shanked or shot or whatever these people had planned for aggressors. He would probably need to move, it was just how and where to? And could he do it without fighting and robbing himself of a cash prize? Or do it with extreme style?
Style points!, as they used to say.

He stepped slightly aside, on the off-chance Jaques was a really bad shot. Shrike hated getting shot in the back. It hurt. Usually.
If it didn't, it was usually a bad thing, though.

"Can we still conduct business, or do you need to concentrate?"
You could almost hear the smile in his voice through the distortion.




Gingkage -> RE: The Hallows Inn (8/16/2015 0:17:39)

Sera watched out of the corner of her eye as Marietta strung her bow. She had to admit, it was impressive, as the stave looked difficult to bend. She wasn't physically weak, but she doubted she'd have been able to accomplish the same feat quite so easily.

The majority of her focus, however, was on the scene in front of her. The... foxes - she still wasn't sure if she truly wanted to call them that, but that really was what they looked like - seemed to be searching for something. Given that, plus their unusual form, it was almost guaranteed that they weren't natural creatures and were instead under someone's command.

She wanted to find whoever it was that controlled the foxes and take that person out. But that would have to wait for all of the foxes to first be either destroyed or chased out. As she'd told Toren, she owed this town enough to stand in its defense when needed.

Her train of thought was broken when Marietta spoke up. Did they look familiar? Why would giant, shadowy foxes look-

The Shrieker. Kitsondra's summon. It was much the same as these creatures. But something was... off about that. She pondered what the problem was as she answered.

"Not dissimilar to Kitsondra's creature from before."

What was it? Everything in her was telling her that that conclusion was wrong. Ah. Of course.

"I'll be the first to admit I distrust her, I distrust all information brokers. But not even I'm so uncharitable as to assume she would attack the town she lives in," she continued with a vaguely amused grin. "Still. Perhaps she'll know who these creatures do belong to, if they're not hers. Who they belong to and what they're looking for."

Questions could wait, though. The foxes looked determined to stay in pairs. It would make fighting them alone tricky.

Well. Marietta had been an ally before. There was no reason to assume she wouldn't readily be her ally again.

"This should be fun," she finished, grin turning into genuine amusement as she picked a target and headed off towards it. Time to test her steel against these creatures.




Vanir -> RE: The Hallows Inn (8/16/2015 18:50:18)

The buzzing around Worms’ head grew in intensity. He pulled his hood back to get a better look at the square and the crowd. The gnats circling his head were very upset; something terrible was about to happen. Worms was in danger, but he could not foresee why. His sharp eyes scanned the crowd erratically, looking for anything that may be headed his way.

Sudden yells and screams answered his inquisitive eyes. Instinct immediately took control of his body. Worms pulled his hood over his dark, bald skull and dashed away from the screams with surprising speed that rivaled dragonflies. Once he was out of sight of the square where the travelling merchant was, he stopped and gasped for air.

The gnats caught up to him and returned to a calm, slow buzz, but fleeing did not seem right. I just arrived here; I don’t want to leave yet, he thought. He knew the difference between screams of disgust, which he heard often when someone finds one of his friends in their belongings or living areas, and screams of endangerment. These were screams of endangerment. Worms decided he needed to see the cause of the screams. He wanted to live in this town for as long as he could, and that meant being aware of the dangers in the town, and confronting them.

He turned back toward the center of town, the gnats growing more nervous with each step. He walked slowly and cautiously, ready to bolt if something hostile burst out from hiding. Worms imagined the danger might be a werewolf. A local with the curse had been walking through town and then fell victim to a transformation! But then he realized it was only still morning, or was it mid-day? He had no awareness of the time of day, but he was slowing becoming aware of a strange, thick fog that had creeped into town. Thinking about it further, Worms remembered the fog creeping around his ankles as he entered town earlier that morning. It must have been growing thicker all this time, but he had not noticed it. Now it was everywhere, obscuring his vision. Maybe this town isn’t for me.

When he reached the center of town he peered around the corner of one of the buildings and stayed low to the ground to avoid being seen. Only a few minutes had passed since he heard the screams and ran away from the area, band most of the other people had fled also. Wolves? The creatures in the center were not difficult to see, even through the fog. No, wolves are different, he thought. Foxes. Those are foxes. I think? No foxes are that large, or that color. This is a bad place.

One of the large foxes yelped and Worms saw an arrow sticking out of its back. He looked to the masked man who was still standing by the cart. He did not fire the arrow. The striped merchant was holding some sort of weapon, but it did not appear to be capable of firing arrows. Where is the archer? Where ever he was, Worms knew he would need help with these creatures. What do I do? I don’t fight. His eye grew wide as an idea came to him. The river. Black flies.

Worms’ left hand rested on the amber pendant hidden beneath his clothes. He’d have to risk exposing himself to the town, but he hoped he could stay hidden. He whispered quietly, “Come my friends. I need your help again.”

Black flies gathered from all around the town, and swarmed above the four foxes. Worms smiled and watched with excitement and fear as they descended upon them. The black flies in these wet, northern areas were known to not only suck blood, but occasionally take small chunks of flesh with them also. They attempted to land on the foxes, concentrating on the face and ankles for maximum irritation, and bite into their flesh.

Worms hoped the foxes would be distracted enough for the archer to sink more arrows into the unnatural beasts.




Draycos777 -> RE: The Hallows Inn (8/20/2015 10:16:24)

A complete waste of time. That's was the only way the two at the church could describe their search. After having upturned chairs, bashed into back offices and removed some of the wooden flooring, yet they found nothing. They were about to head over to where the two searching the building were and help them, when they heard a howl; a call for help. It came from the Inn where the four were fighting the humans. Gladly leaving the boring church behind them, they raced towards the center of town. They eventually came up behind two warriors; a tall one with a bow and one with many daggers and a sword. Dropping down as low as they could to remove most sound, they decided to take down the sword wielding woman first. A bow and arrow is pretty unless in close quarters combat and besides, their packmate Drei seems to already have his eyes on the human with sharp ears.




The two searching building came up to the house farthest from the town and hide as the two occupancies rushed out, headed towards the center of town were the screams could be heard. It would seem that the four did their job well; maybe too well as they heard them call for help moments later. However, they didn't have the able to answer that call as their own mission had just started. Entering the house through the door the two find a small and fairly neat interior. The first room was a mix between a kitchen and living room, as-well-as two other doors; closets or other rooms? They started with the kitchen first, if they was anything magical in here, surely it would be hidden inside the drawers, no?




Heading around to the back of the Inn Fünfte and Sechs ran into a girl, wearing a black-shrine maiden like outfit, carrying a large black scythe; Shuyi the traitor. The two foxes crouched low as the met eye contacted with Shuyi, making the girl smile.

"Well, well. It's been awhile, hasn't it? Ten or eleven years it's been now. Tell me." A cheeky grin appeared on Shuyi's face; "You plan on running away with your tails between your legs again?"

The two never liked Shuyi to begin with, and this insult they would make sure didn't go unpunished. Hearing enough of the girl's voice, Fünfte and Sechs lunged at her, seeking to silence the annoying voice for good.




Taking out the remaining humans would be a challenge, for sure, however the four were sure they could handle it. It seem to be going well after all, Three were content to just stand out of the way, and the dirty-little boy who seemed to be in a daze snapped out of it and ran; they could be dealt with later. Two other humans rushed out of the inn to help fight them off; that was to be expected. What was not expected was the archer that shot Drei in the back as he raced to attack the man and woman slayers. Snarling, he retreated back as Vier came to him, ordering him to stay still as he pulled the arrow out. Angry, Drei looked around for the one that shot him.

There! A tall human with sharp ears was carrying a longbow and had another arrow ready to fire. Drei promised himself that by the end of this, he'd make her pay for that arrow. Using his speed, Drei raced towards the sharp-eared human, while Vier howl for backup and soon followed. It wasn't long 'til Sieben and Acht showed up behind the bow-maiden; deciding to ambush her friend.

Ein and Zwei original job was to take over the magic cart, however, due to Drei's hotheadedness and a single arrow, they were forced to take down the monster-slayers. As the meant them in battle, black river flies began to swam them; interesting and delicious. Normally the flies would run away before the foxes could eat them, but these one seem to throw themselves at the foxes. Jumping into the swarm, Ein and Zwei tried to bite, snap and eat as many of the fat treats as they could before realizing they still that a job to do. The slayers, on their part, wasted no time in using the opportunity giving to them.

The man was already upon Zwei, before he could act, and was about to bring his sword down on the fox, when Ein jumped onto his back. She tried mauling the back of his neck, but was thrown off before she could get a firm hold. Wasting no time, Zwei compressed his body and ran under the human male's legs, nearly knocking him over and rammed his body into the human female, as she went after Ein. Ein, in turn, rammed into the male as he said something to his partner. Ein and Zwei both retreated, ready to begin their attack again in earnest, resisting the urge to eat more of the black flies, still hovering around them. Than again, maybe they could use the flying pests to their advantage. Humans hate big flies right? Or was it any sized fly?




Kellehendros -> RE: The Hallows Inn (8/22/2015 9:36:12)

Marietta’s blue eyes narrowed, and the half-elf nodded as Sera confirmed exactly what the hunter had been thinking.

And then brought up a perfectly reasonable point against that line of thought.

The half-elf was a little put off by this, but shrugged it off. As much as she wanted another reason to dislike Kitsondra, Sera had a point. Kitsondra was too invested in Blackwater, too… integrated into the fabric of its daily life. Unless the woman had inexplicably decided that she wanted to run the town as her own little tributary state, there was no profit for her in a hostile action like this. Marietta sighed. It would be nice if the world was so black and white, she supposed. Falina had told the half-elf more than once that she had a habit of oversimplifying matters.

So the foxes, whatever they were, most likely answered to someone else; someone who knew Kitsondra perhaps, at least well enough to mimic her. Though perhaps the answer was yet simpler than that, and the unknown perpetrator of the attack was someone who had learned and practiced the same sort of magic as the woman.

These things were ultimately of little importance to Marietta. They were interesting to consider, but could not be verified at this time. If Kitsondra had anything to do with this, the half-elf would find out about it later. It would be nice for the woman to be taken down a few notches. She had pried into the hunter’s life enough that Marietta thought she might enjoy turning those tables.

There were more pressing concerns, however. Two of the oversized foxes were rushing down the street at her and Sera. Marietta lifted her bow and drew as one of the foxes stopped; the beast lifted its head and loosed a deep-throated cry that was almost a lupine howl.

Calling for back-up. The hunter’s mind supplied, though she could not really be certain. She pushed that thought away and sighted down the shaft, fletching of the arrow caressing her cheek. The lead fox had a slight roll to his gait, a momentary hitch in his otherwise smooth movement that spoke to Marietta of recent injury. That decided her target nicely. Taking one of the creatures down quickly would allow Sera and the half-elf to combine their efforts against the remaining creature. If they could end this fight quickly, they could assist whoever was making that infernal racket closer to the center of town.

Wait for it… Now. The hunter released, arrow buzzing from the string as the wounded fox charged. With just enough lead, hopefully the creature’s forward momentum would carry it directly into the arrow’s path. The results of taking an arrow from the half-elf’s heavy-weight bow would not be pleasant for the fox. But bows were not great weapons for dealing with foes at arms’ length, and as soon as the arrow was away, Marietta cut to the side, darting away on a path perpendicular to the oncoming beast. Her hand flicked up to her quiver, pulling another arrow for her next shot.



The pair of shadowfoxes slipped into Marietta’s home, casting about on their search for whatever it was they had been set to find. They were bound only for disappointment here, as they began to ransack the kitchen space. The half-elf’s home was as entirely mundane as she was, free from any scent of magic, but for one.

Tucked away in her small storage room, where her bowyer tools and spare equipment was stored, was a faint and fading scent of sorcery. Rolled up in a spare cloak was an orb of stone about the size of a pair of doubled fists. It was a relic of a bygone time, a curio of Marietta’s days as a part-time adventurer. Falina had enchanted the stone with spells of light and levitation, creating a miniature sun that followed her obediently.

It had functioned for a time after her death, but the hunter was no mage, and consequently was unable to turn the brilliant light the orb produced on and off. She had never quite been able to abandon the thing though. It had been Falina’s once, and that made it precious to Marietta. So the orb had been wrapped in a cloak and tucked away for the half-elf’s journeys. Its light slowly fading as its magic depleted itself. It was not little more than the stone it had once been, but every now and then it would flick with its inner light, a faint reminder of its once brilliant nature.




Legendium -> RE: The Hallows Inn (8/26/2015 17:15:52)

After Essex put a hole in one of the foxes' backs, the whole scene started unfolding quickly.
The four fellows next to the cart weren't doing much more than acting all defensive.
On the other hand, a cloud of black flies descended upon two of the wolves as they were racing towards two warriors by the inn. The fox Essex had shot hadn't seen him apparently, and bolted down the wrong road, closely followed by a second fox. Seemed like they worked in pairs.

Essex bolted down the street, an arrow ready in his hand. Deciding finishing off the wounded one would be easier he decided to chase it down - the others by the cart and the two warriors would be more than capable of dealing with the remaining two foxes.

Ignoring looks from the people by the cart, Essex turned the corner and was greeted by the sight of four foxes and two women ready to fight. The one that had followed the injured one howled in the least vixen way possible - more like a wolf's pack call. One of the women was an archer presumably an elf judging by the pointy ears, and had attempted to hit Essex's fox, but he couldn't tell if she had succeeded. The other was a swordswoman who was charging at the same fox. Which left the other one, as well as two new foxes, completely free to attack whoever.

The two women seemed to not notice the two foxes behind her - Essex had his targets. Nocking the arrow in his hand to his bow, he fired it at the nearest of the two's upper front left leg to cripple it. Quickly drawing more arrows, he rapidly fired three more in succession at the other at point blank. He had positioned himself at an angle from the other two so as to not run into the problems of accidentally hitting the wrong target.

He considered saying something to the two women, but decided introductions were best made when not in the heat of combat - if they were made at all, that is. Essex couldn't care less about anyone in this dismal little settlement save for one, the Red Lady. He would work with others if it was necessary to ensure she didn't die before she outlived her usefulness.
So after this he would try his hardest to simply disappear while the others disposed of the corpses. Or were occupied in any other manner.




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