RE: The Hallows Inn

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TJByrum -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/4/2015 19:55:43)
Luke, at first, was on top of the world. But then that mountain he was on seemed to come tumbling down, quite embarrassingly too. But it didn't matter. To fail would be human, and like all humans, he would learn from his mistakes. Luke tapped his chin as Marietta spoke, pointing out the flaws in his plan. He smiled at her and was prepared to continue to speak until the Queen of Illusions, Kistondra, spoke up. "You can forget the reservoir Marietta. We haven't even entered the stormy season yet," Kistondra said. Luke nodded his head and crosed his arms, agreeing that she was right. "The fool is trying to dam the river with only fresh cut trees. The dam will get smashed and washed away like paper. This is simply another failed 'business venture'... much like you're winery, right Luke?" Uh oh. The winery? How would anyone... "Ohohoho," began Luke, smiling at Kitsondra and slowly walking down the hill from which he stood. "I know this one. Kitsondra... Yara told me about you. The 'information broker', the 'Queen of Illusions'... how... valuable." Luke was close to raising a finger and poking the vampire on the nose, but decided not too in case she was jumpy. "You know a lot. You must know a lot." In a way Luke was slightly intimidated. For her to know about the winery was... that went way back; her sources were indeed resourceful. Luke then turned to look at Marietta, the first speaker. "And you... a half-breed," he said offensively. "You're smart..." Luke then took a few steps back and looked at the whole party. "The whole lot of you are very.... resourceful." At this point Luke had quickly glided over to Yara and put his index finger on her chin, looking her in the eyes. "Such a fine work force you've gathered, my love." Yara swiped her hand across quickly, swatting Luke's arm down. Luke laughed and Yara said "I won't hesitate to call the order, Luke. One word and you - and all your goons - you're all dead." Luke laughed again and backed away. "Stop your working boys. I've another idea." Luke began pacing back and forth for a few seconds before finally stopping. "Fine. Fine, I'll stop. But I'm not finished. No more... extortion, as you call it. We'll load our things up and go... but we'll see each other again at Stone's End. It'll be the grand entrance into the Darkwald... just imagine the coin flowing in. I'll even offer you a chance to invest in the venture. In the end, I'll make you all very rich." With that Luke turned, hollered to his men, and they picked up their tools and headed westward, no doubt in the way of their encampment. "Getting late, Love," he called out, "better find a good place to hole up in." Yara turned in the direction of the sun, despite the canopy being in the way, and her eyes dropped until she realized the sun was setting. Midnight was upon them. "Uh... okay... come on guys, we need to find the main road before it gets to dark." A Night in the Darkwald There it is... nope! A rabbit trail. There! No, just a deer trail. Water? Must be the Stone... just another creek! "No!" Yara's hushed voice was evident. They were lost. It had gotten to late; the sun had set, and darkness descended upon the Darkwald. The group trekked eastward, back to the Main Road, but it seemed to not exist. They then realized they had been heading north the whole time. At one point they decided to hug the Stone River and head downriver, but it wasn't long after they realized the Stone River wasn't there - it was just a common creek. Every trail was a dead-end, and it seemed like another location entirely. In the day time the trees looked like old oaks and pines, but now they looked like gnarled claws and ominous webbing. No more rabits, no more deers... just the stillness of the wood. The darkness of the Darkwald. Creeks ran black, and the water tasted foul. Rocks were no longer shades of grey, but chunks of some dark material. Was this even a forest anymore? It was futile. They were lost, and they'd never find their way back to... anywhere, until morning. "Yara, everything okay?" Yara jumped as Toren placed his hand on her shoulder. Yara sighed and said to him disappointingly, "no, Toren... we're lost." Yara then turned her attention to the rest of the group. "We'll have to make camp here. There's no way we'll find our way around until morning." The party would then set about making themselves comfortable, or at least as comfortable as they could. It would be a dark and ominous night in the Darkwald; and it hadn't even started raining yet.

Draycos777 -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/7/2015 11:40:07)
The group followed Yara through the forest on their way back to the main road. However, night overtook the Darkwald faster then they had expected and it soon became apparent to Kitsondra that the elf was lost. "I could head back to the Hallows myself, however," Kitsondra gaze fell on Sera for a split second, a slight smile on her face. "leaving them when things get bad would be unsavory to say the least. Besides, I don't think that would be the best of ways to repay someone who watched my back twice last night." The look of frustration painted on her face was a clear sign that the forest had no plans on letting the elf have her way. Finally, Toren placed a hand on one of her shoulders, asking if she was alright. Jumping around, Yara realized who it was that had touched her then sighed. "No, Toren... we're lost." She then turned to the rest of the group and spoke the words Kitsondra was expecting to hear. "We'll have to make camp here. There's no way we'll find our way around until morning." "I see. Got caught in the Darkwald's tricks, huh?" Kitsondra smiled slightly as she teased the elf. "Well, I guess it can't be helped. Night came by to fast for us. We'll just have to make due for now." With that being said, Kitsondra began clearing the immediate area of debris and dug a small pit in the center of the clearing. Gathering well-sized rocks, Kitsondra covered the bottom of the pit, as well as the edges. Taking a few large twigs off the ground and placing them into the pit as a bundle, then used a bit of magic to cause a small spark to light the bundle ablaze. Kitsondra didn't care much for using fire magic. In fact, the most she could do was make a small, pathetic fireball. However, an exception would have to be made in this situation. Pointing to a near-by creek, Kitsondra spoke out. "If anyone would be so kind to please gather some semi-wet branches from the creek over there, that would be a big help. Just set them near the pit for me if you decide to gather some." Getting three branches of her own and catching the wet sticks on the fire so that they produced smoke like incense candles, Kitsondra went on to position them around the clearing; sticking out of the ground. This would kill off any insects that were hanging on the trees above them, or at the very least, drive them away. Once the clearing was bordered with the smoking sticks, she sat down and started to weave she own magic with that of the forest's, hoping to catch some poor animal that hadn't reach it's own home in time. It was a tedious process though, so Kitsondra decided to ask a question that floating in her head, and maybe in a few others as well, since last night. "So Toren, do you mind explaining the sudden 'makeover', you seem to have gotten? If not, how about your connection with The Master? You two seem to know eachother better then just fighting eachother."

Kellehendros -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/7/2015 21:37:47)
Marietta was grateful that someone else had spoken up, it let her fade into the background a bit, a preferred arrangement on her part. The Twins had always been the face of the Sentinels, dealing with clients or talking down bandits. Marietta had always been a silent presence in such things, a slender slip of a girl with a bow as tall as she was. The half-elf’s lips curved into the slightest of smiles. There had, almost invariably, been questions. Once… The hunter’s smile vanished, transforming into a brief wince as she pushed her thoughts away from the path they were starting down. She crossed her arms over her chest after reminding herself sternly that those things, all of them, were in the past. They were dead, buried. Whatever shadows the past could throw across the future were only that, shadows and nothing more. Refocusing her attention on the matter at hand, Marietta glanced from Kitsondra to Luke. She wondered what it was that had happened with this winery, beyond the obvious implication of some failure on Grange’s part. Luke seemed to take the shattering of his hopes well enough, though perhaps he was simply a good actor. Whether his feelings for Yara were real or another act, the hunter was at least gratified by watching the elf reject the deadbeat’s sweet talking. The half-elf’s eyes went flat and icy, her expression closing off at Grange’s insult. Marietta held her silence, though her eyes flared, the ice cracking into a grey like a storm-tossed sea. Growing up she had always been conscious about her mixed racial heritage. She was the only “half-breed” in her village, and many of the children had never let her forget it. It was an old wound, but it could still sting. Grange was lucky. Had he not been leaving, and had Marietta not been with the others, the hunter might have done something she would regret later. The scoundrel’s parting words registered after a moment, and the half-elf scowled. It would be getting dark soon, and when darkness fell in the Darkwald, things could get very bad indeed. He had been travelling for three months, searching for more than three years. The trail had not been easy to follow. The Darkwald, of all places. If you were on the run there were better places to go, places that were easier to reach, and certainly friendlier to live. But then, the woman had wanted to disappear, hadn't she? That was, after all, why you ran away, to break away from the past, to start over. The man looked up at the gate into Blackwater. Long years of searching came down to this. He was being paid well, very well, to locate this woman, to deliver the letter entrusted to him by the man who had hired him. Whoever the woman was, she must have done something rather drastic, or else be very important to the man who had hired him. The searcher tapped the pouch at his waist, feeling the edge of the letter through the thin leather of the pouch, as crisp as the day it had been entrusted to him so long ago. There was some magic on the letter that had let it endure so long, turning up when the searcher thought he had misplaced it, emerging whole and unspoiled from muck and rain, and even the fire it had accidentally been dropped in last year. At the gate he was met by the sour face of a guard whose shift must be almost over. Leaning on a cane and rubbing at one leg, the man growled through the gate. “What business?” “I’m looking for someone who I've heard lives here,” the searcher replied, “I have a letter to deliver.” “Ya?” The guard returned, his interest piqued. “Who’s it fer?” “That’s none of your business.” “Is it? It’s my business if you get in or spend the night outside.” He sighed, reaching into another pouch and producing a coin, letting the guard see a glint of gold. “An old friend.” The guard snatched the coin greedily though the gate, shoving a key into the lock and opening it for the searcher. “Old friend, aye, aye. All my friends are in the common room of the Hallows Inn, this time of night. Yer lookin’ for someone, Sloan’ll be able to point ‘em out.” The searcher nodded, flipping the man another coin before heading off in the direction of the famous inn. It did not take him long to find the place, situated as it was over the Stone. Pushing his way inside, the stranger let his gaze sweep through the common room, finding the innkeeper after a moment. Skirting the tables and making a line for the bar, the man waited for Sloan’s attention to fall on him. Inclining his head slightly he spoke quietly to the innkeeper. “I’m told you know everyone in town. I’m hoping you can help me. I’m searching for a woman by the name of Marietta, Marietta Drevosa. I have something for her.” They were lost. This fact was obvious to Marietta. She could tell by Yara’s body language, the way she was shifting her weight and darting glances to each side as if wondering if the others knew. The half-elf remained silent, following along with the others and letting Yara try. For her part, the hunter would have called a halt once it got too dark to see more than ten or twenty feet, but this was Yara’s expedition, and the elf had seemed confident in her ability to navigate the forest. But it was night now. The Darkwald was a very different at night. Marietta had spent several nights in the forest, and none of them had been pleasant. She had gotten through most of them by the expedient of climbing a tree and sleeping in its branches. Unfortunately, that was not practical with the number of people they had with them. She was ready then, when Yara finally admitted their situation after an intervention by Toren. The half-elf glanced around. The area was not all they could have hoped for in a camp, but then again, they were unlikely to find anything better. Wandering Darkwald aimlessly at night was not a good idea. Marietta shot a scowl in Kitsondra’s direction as the woman taunted Yara, and then grudgingly trudged towards the noxious creek, finding several fallen branches. Hunkering down the half-elf drew the utility knife at her belt and began stripping twigs away. After a moment she paused, her eyes going wide as she stared down at the soft clay of the creek bank. There, before her eyes, pressed into the bank beneath the cover of a fallen branch, the hunter had uncovered a track. The knife fell from nerveless fingers, biting into the clay. Carefully, cautiously, Marietta extended her hand, touching the edges of the cloven-print, crisp and fresh as though it was only a few hours old. But that was impossible. There were no… “No,” the half-elf whispered, leaning forward and wiping the print away deliberately. Rising, she gathered her knife and the cuttings, dipping the branches in the noxious flow for a moment before bringing them to Kitsondra. Marietta said nothing further to the others, walking to one edge of the camp. She stalked back and forth as if patrolling the camp’s edge, her mind in turmoil. The hunter shook her head, whispering quietly to herself. “It’s the Darkwald. It’s night. You can’t trust what you see. It wasn't real.”

Master K -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/7/2015 22:25:18)
The book made no sense. The dusty old tome that she had received off the witch. The language was foreign; far more runic and ornate to resemble any language that Marcelline knew. For that brief moment in time, though, she could read it. Almost as if the runes on the paper had been charmed to produce a recognizable writing form. Perhaps the pages were enchanted? Maybe she needed a certain spell in order to decipher the runes? Either way, the 'words' were indecipherable. The illustrations, however...they suggested far more dark secrets than Marcelline could ever imagine. Within the chapters of the tome, there were vivid illustrations to accompany the rituals, perhaps demonstrating the results. Some pages illustrated large, ornate runes, perhaps summoning sigils. There were formless figures drawn out which made her shiver. Circles of crudely illustrated humans worshiping eldritch abominations. She's pretty sure she seen what could possibly be a human sacrifice at some point illustrated within the book. Poorly sketched animals being grasped by the scruff of the neck, bleeding out onto the ground, or something along those lines. Tentacles bursting forth from sigils, humans, slugs. The list of horrors continued to grow as she skimmed through the book, as she began to see why witchcraft was a feared practice. The potential for evil was high, but at the same time, could it be used by one whose heart wasn't as malicious? As Marcelline sat there, a wench walked over to greet her at her table. "Can I get'cha somethin' sweetie?" The wench asked Marcelline kindly. Somewhat startled, she slammed the book shut, and placed it flat on the table. "Er, uh...can I get whatever's on special?" Marcelline asked hastily. The wench nodded, and within moments, Marcelline had a fine meal placed in front of her. After she finished that, she went up to the counter to pay Sloan. As she did, she spied something out of the corner of her eye. A woman cloaked in crimson. Enigmatically, she sat in the corner of the room, to a small, circular table. The woman's crimson robes veiled the entirety of her body, leaving her near formless. Only her withered hands, and the tip of her nose showed through her coverings. The table she sat at had a crimson cloth to cover it as well, and the chair placed in front suggested she was open to company. She seemed...off, in a way. She sat perfectly idle, as if waiting for someone to engage her. Marcelline turned to Sloan. "Who is that woman?" She asked, gesturing to the mysterious woman. "Her?" Sloan said. "That's the Red Lady. Fortune teller of sorts. Charming woman she is, and offers her services for coin. She's a strange one, though." Marcelline nodded to him, and began to approach the Red Lady. As Marcelline strolled up to the table, she cautiously placed her hands on the empty chair, and examined the Red Lady. Her cloak and veil gave no suggestion of the woman's body or form whatsoever. Could this woman even see beyond her veil? "Yes, child?" The Red Lady asked her. "Does thou seek my services?" Marcelline nearly jumped back, startled. She did not think the woman would respond to her. Cautiously, Marcelline took a seat. Even the chair she sat on felt different, in a way. Placed directly in front of the Red Lady...it almost felt like some sort of judgement was being passed on to her. Though Marcelline couldn't see the woman's eyes, she could certainly feel them examine her. After a few moments of silent examination, the Red Lady stirred. "You seek divination, no?" The woman said. The woman extended a hand. "A few gold pieces for thine future?" Marcelline contemplated what she was doing for a moment. Her future was muddy and unclear. She had wandered in to Darkwald, looking for a purpose. In such short time, she had taken apprenticeship with a vampire, slain a demon and freed its host, and now acquired an indecipherable tome. What was next? Perhaps the Red Lady could give her the direction she needed. She fished a few gold pieces from her pack, and dropped them in to the gypsies hands. The woman's hand closed over the gold pieces gingerly, and closed her hands over them. She unclasped her hands, and the coins were gone, withdrawn into the crimson veil. "So that is thy decision." The Red Lady mused. "Very well. Shall we begin? Please, offer me thy hand." Marcelline cautiously extended her hand to the woman. The Red Lady took it, and for a brief moment, paused. She then removed Marcelline's glove, and cautiously took Marcelline's hand once more. After a few seconds of being frozen in place, the Red Lady clasped her hands over Marcelline's own hand. The Lady's touch felt as formless as her appearance. The woman's hands offered no heat to her own, nor did they draw any heat away from her. As the woman held that position for a few brief moments, Marcelline resisted the urge to shiver in unease. "I see..." The Red Lady said. The woman reached underneath the table, and drew forth a crystal globe, which she placed upon the small centerpiece on the table. She began to lean in to it, keeping her hands close to the sides of the crystal globe. It was almost as if she was looking in to the globe from beyond her veil. "Come closer, child. Look into it." The Red Lady whispered after few moments. Reluctantly, Marcelline leaned in to look at the globe. "Do you see it?" The Red Lady asked her. "Your future?" The globe was murky. Marcelline couldn't see anything. "The children are gathering. The artificial deity has been slain. Now, those who were bound to its servitude are now freed from its fear. However, blood runs deep. So deep that it feels the burning desire to re-unite. I know this. You do not. They do not either. They will descend upon Darkwald, likened by priests on pilgrimage." Marcelline's breath was taken away. She went to lean back in to her seat, but within the blink of an eye, the Red Lady was upon her. The crystal ball was gone. The Red Lady was reaching across the table, grabbing Marcelline by the hand, with no intentions of letting go. Marcelline held her breath as the Red Lady drew Marcelline closer to herself, becoming nearly face to face with her. "Child." The Lady whispered, near desperately. "Beware. A stone faced saint draws closer to Darkwald. She is shrouded from me, but I can feel the malice from her very form. She is a danger to your life. Protect yourself at all costs. Protect your siblings. Speak not your name to her, lest you cross her. " Within a blink, the Red Lady was back to her seat. "Heed this, child." The Red Lady said direly. "For that is the future that I see." With that, the Red Lady went silent again, and Marcelline went and sat down to another table.

TJByrum -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/10/2015 10:57:09)
Kitsondra quickly made due with what she was given. She produced a fire pit which would offer warmth and comfort to the party. Toren and Lily gathered up a few wet sticks for the vampire, which she then used to fashion anti-insect devices. Smart. "So Toren," Kitsondra began, "do you mind explaining the sudden 'makeover', you seem to have gotten? If not, how about your connection with The Master? You two seem to know eachother better then just fighting each other." Toren really didn't want to be bothered by those sorts of questions. But then again... he looked around at the party... then again, these people - if anyone - deserved an explanation. "Alright... alright, fine!" Toren cleared his throat. "Many years ago I experienced something terrible. My family, my friends, and everyone else I knew... butchered like hogs. As a man of action, I sought vengeance upon those who wronged me, but alas it was in vain. So to sate my thirst for vengeance I called out to a dark power. A power so evil that not even the taint of the Darkwald comes close to it. You would know this evil in its physical form... Wraith." As the name left Toren's mouth everyone could hear a slight whisper coming from the woods. "You saw him, while we fought the Master at the altar. With my newfound powers - and allies, the Nazha, I set out to destroy those who killed my kin. "But I didn't stop there. I killed everyone they knew. Their wives, husbands, even their children. It was wrong, I know it was, but that wasn't me. Wraith was corrupting me, as he did with all of his Nazha. I was on my way to becoming a Nazha, like the others, but I resisted. I was... rebellious, even by Wraith's standards. But my vengeance and rage for the world made me a useful tool for the Master, and so Wraith kept me. Wraith was... mentor... and ally. Many times I lost it, and many times I almost crossed into a full-fledged Nazha. But never once did I let the darkness consume me whole. "And then I met a man named Toric. I was suppose to kill him, and I could have if I wanted to." Toren looked down at Lily, who looked back at him. "But Toric was a good man. An honorable man. And when I looked in his eyes I saw that same vengance, that same hatred that I had. There was a connection between us, and so I broke myself free from Wraith and his Nazha. I decided to help Toric. I had lost my family, and Toric had to... but Toric had hope. "So I entered his fold... he accepted me as his brother, as I had earned his trust. It turns out Wraith was not only after Toric, but his daughter Lily. Something about her... about the Valgard's blood, it makes them unique. Lily is still a child, a virgin at that, and this her pure. She was the prime candidate for Wraith's rituals. So to deal with the Nazha, Toric sent me and his daughter south. I'm not sure what premonitions led him to send us here, but apparently they were true. He told me I'd gather valuable allies who would help me defeat the Nazha. And I did meet new allies: you. And we did defeat the Nazha, no? "And now I must head northward, back to Asgeir to return Lily to her father and inform Toric of our successes here. I know now for what the future holds for me now, but I'm sure Toric still has... plans." As Toren was telling his story, Lily noticed Marietta acting quite... distressed. She climbed up off the ground, wiping the dirt from her bottom and legs, and approached the half-elf. "Something wrong," she asked in an innocent voice, "you look... upset." The mug in Sloan's hand squeaked louder and louder as he tried wiping the smudge from the inside. It wouldn't come out. This frustrated Sloan to no end. Giving up, Sloan just tossed the porcelain-like mug into tray, causing it to shatter and pieces go everywhere. Sloan cursed to himself and turned to see a man approaching the bar. He didn't hesitate in his mission: “I’m told you know everyone in town. I’m hoping you can help me. I’m searching for a woman by the name of Marietta, Marietta Drevosa. I have something for her.” Sloan just looked at him for a moment, trying to study him. "Oh yeah? Well... I s'pose that's right. Name's Sloan by the way, owner and operator of the Hallows Inn. 'Cept it ain't much of an inn nowadays, fellers treat it like a border office." Sloan turned around and blew his nose into an old white rag before stuffing it back into his apron's pocket. "Now," he said, turning back around, "this Marietta Dorosa... Drevo... Drevosa? Normally I just point people like yerself in the direction of the broker, Kitsondra. But figurin' she ain't here, might as well be me. Marietta... an elf, or at least part elf. Like's to hunt. Real outdoorsy type, ya'know? Or that's what I figure from her. Real hero in these parts now, I'd reckon. I saw her head out with a group of others... Toren was the feller's name, and Yara too. But Kitsondra is with'em... so's some others as well. They were headin' north if you wanna try to seek'em out. But it's late yet, eh? Best bet just sleep here in the inn, wait till mornin', she'll be back. Always is."

Kellehendros -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/14/2015 21:35:31)
The seeker shifted slightly against the bar, eyes on Sloan as the man spoke. A smile slipped across his face slowly as the innkeeper mused. He didn’t seem to know the last name, but the man who had hired the searcher had expected that. Still, the way Sloan described this Marietta gave the seeker a slowly growing feeling of excitement and expectation. A hunter, one with an elven look. This was right, it had to be. Grinning, the man nodded to the innkeeper. “I’ll take a room, if you have one. I can catch up with her and make the delivery when she returns.” Marietta stalked back and forth, shaking her head. It wasn’t true; it wasn’t real. The print had been nothing more than her imagination. The Darkwald was a dangerous place, more so at night, when you couldn’t trust what your eyes told you. It was an illusion, that was all, a manifestation of Darkwald’s malignancy, the darkness that almost seemed alive at times. It was the girl’s voice that dragged her out of the fugue. The half-elf stopped, wetting her lips and darting a glance towards where the others were gathered. “I… Yes,” she admitted after a moment, exhaling slowly, “I am upset.” The question was if she would explain to the girl why. Marietta was had been momentarily surprised by the fact she was even admitting she was upset to Lily. She was a child, and yet… After the things that she had been through with the Nazha, Lily wasn’t just a child any more. The world was like that, from what the hunter had experienced. Despite that, Marietta had no intention of telling Lily about the print she had seen, nor what it meant to her. That was a deep fear, and deeply buried, under years and distance, but now it seemed like the years were wearing away, one layer at a time. The half-elf shifted slightly, and then slowly sat down, settling onto an explanation. It was not what was truly bothering her, but it was close enough after Luke’s words earlier that day. “I have a good memory, Lily, too good.” She paused, her bow across her knees as she stared out into the forest. “Luke called me a half-breed.” Marietta’s right hand left the bow, wandering up to her cheek. She ran her fingers slowly over the side of her face, along the ridge of her ear, and up to its tapering point. “He was right. My mother was an elf, my father was human.” The hunter paused again, the hand going back to the bow; her fingers caressed the wood lightly, taking comfort from the familiar grain. “I remember every slight, every taunt, every cruel word the other children in the village said.” “I don’t remember my mother though.” The half-elf closed her eyes, unable to look at Lily. “That is what hurts the most. I never knew her. I have a thousand perfect memories of the other children mocking her, mocking me, for being less than them, for being a half-breed, but I do not have a single one of her. She died so soon after I was born...” Marietta shook her head. “All I have is those memories, and a few stories my father told me.” She sighed. “Luke’s words brought those back. It’s a curse, my memory. My father said that it came from my mother.” Marietta opened her eyes, staring into the forest though she was afraid of what she might see out there, slipping between the trees, a memory that would not stay buried. “A half-breed’s curse. There are times when… It is just too much.”

Gingkage -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/15/2015 11:19:03)
Sera watched Luke and his lackeys impassively as Marietta and Kitsondra detailed exactly why this moron's plan was doomed to fail before it had even begun. Whatever she thought or felt about this hidden completely under a perfect expression of bland professionalism. But, perhaps, not quite as perfect as she'd thought. "And you... a half-breed..." It was subtle. The barest twitch of her hand as it tightened on her throwing knife, ready to fly with the slightest flick of her wrist. The smallest narrowing of her eyes. But it was a reaction. And an unexpected one at that. She'd barely exchanged two words with Marietta before today. If even that many. And yet, here she was. Ready to break a contract she had agreed with, go against terms set by a client and sink her blade into that guy's arm or leg - Yara had simply said she didn't want him killed, after all, so maiming was fair game - in reaction to an insult directed at the half-elf. In all the years Sera had done this job, she had never been so unprofessional as to nearly do something like that. But Marietta was so similar in manner to herself. Both loners, either by choice or necessity. Both warriors in some respect. She supposed it only made sense she'd respond deep down to the other woman. "Dangerous, that." It was a fleeting thought. A reminder that she had a very good reason to never let herself get attached to anyone. She'd made that mistake once. And swore never again after the fallout. So she closed her eyes in one slow blink and when they opened any and all trace of offense was removed and Sera the professional was back in control. It was very quickly evident that their guide had gotten them lost. So this was why everyone said traveling in the woods at night was folly. Noted. But, it was what it was and Sera set about helping prepare the campsite with the others. She paused for a moment, though, as Marietta seemed to see something that shocked her. Perhaps she should ask? No. It wasn't her business and she didn't have the right to pry. Besides, asking in concern was the exact opposite of not getting attached. She couldn't deny that a tiny part of her was relieved when the girl, Lilly, spoke up, however. This was going to be a long night.

TJByrum -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/16/2015 16:47:28)
“I’ll take a room, if you have one. I can catch up with her and make the delivery when she returns.” Sloan didn't much care what the man's business was. The man had coin, and a desire to sleep in the inn. To him, that's all that mattered. The innkeeper turned to his left and hollered at an unattractive woman on the other end of the bar, cleaning a mug. "Margret! Margret! Git a key on over, this man needs a room." Sloan turned back to the man. "Marge'll help you get settled in. Ye welcome to stay 'round and eat down here if you'd like though. Up to you." Lily swallowed a lump of sorrow as Marietta spoke to her, sitting on the ground. Lily sighed and sat down beside the half-elf, trying to comfort her. She looked down at her muddy, dirty, and worn shoes, rubbing them together so as to knock some of the grime off. "I have a good memory too. Maybe not as good as yours, but... well... they say you remember traumatic experiences the most." Lily had found something that connected her to the half-elf. "My mother died when I was born. I don't even think she saw me... probably died as I was still coming out of the womb. Father doesn't talk about her much. Her name was Gyda... and father loved her very much. Ever since, father has refused to be with any other woman. He feels guilty about it. I'm all he has left." Lily swallowed again, feeling sorrow coming up again. Her eyes began to water. She tugged on a piece of weed she had been playing with and held it in front of her, twisting it until it broke. "But... about memories... I died once. That's what I remember more than anything else. That, and my father's warm embrace. Some... bandits or... I don't really know what they were. They came and took me and all the other girls. We were taken away from the burning town, into some old woods, where they began pushing us around and hurting us. Before long... the... the Nazha arrived." Lily shuddered at the thought of the monstrous beings. "They were furious. The men had done terrible things to some of the other girls, and the Nazha began to kill them. All of us girls were caught in the midst of it all. We were all butchered. Myself, an axe to the head. Straight down from the top." Lily reached up and spread her hair on top of her head, tilting it over to show Marietta the top of it. A gruesome red line extended across the top of it, as if an axe had been ug in deep and pulled back out. "I... I died. I don't remember what was happening after that... but I know I died. Then I woke up. In father's arms. In a place far from home, some deep, dark cave. I was scared, and I panicked, but father consoled me and told me not to worry. He told me he had a lot of work to do, but he said I was safe." Lily sighed and continued holding back tears. "Anyway, I've said to much. Feel better, please." "Owooooooo!" "Wolves!" Yara was quick to jump up, string an arrow and aim her bow into the forest where she predicted the wolves were. "No!" Toren quickly jumped up, grabbed Yara's arm and pulled it down. The arrow came undone and found itself embedded into the ground mere inches from Sera's foot. "Lily?" Lily was already on her feet and walked away from Marietta. She seemed to be in some sort of trance, her hand held up in front of her. Slowly she withdrew her arm until it fell at her side. "It's fine," she said. The rustle of leaves sounded until something large and dark walked out of the forest, hidden by shadow. Four wolves, larger than any they had ever seen, walked into the light. They walked low to the ground, like a dog sizing up his opponent, and growled. "Shh... It's alright... it's alright." The largest one in the pack, obviously the alpha male, rose up to his normal height and extended his head to Lily, who rested her palm on his nose. But the peaceful moment was ruined when something quick, something lithe, darted through the forest. Branches rustled and the wind picked up. Suddenly, the fire vanished. Not even smoke came from the pit. "Steady," Toren said, pulling himself towards Lily. The wolves, startled, lowered their ears and quickly ran off without hesitation. A loud shriek echoed out of the forest and out came some creature. It was tall, with long skinny legs and arms, a face full of yellowed eyes, jagged teeth, and flared nostrils. Its skin was sickly pale, but the color of a man. It was if some woman was stripped and stretched into a horrific shape. It plowed out of the wood and towards the group at lightning-quick speeds, slamming its forearm first into Sera and sending her flying back, and then into Toren which flung him into Lily and up against a tree, before it finally disappeared into the forest again and shrieked, darting around the clearing...

Draycos777 -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/16/2015 18:50:17)
As Toren explained his role in the Nazha story, Kitsondra got up to rest against one of the many trees surrounding their camp. Having gave up on the idea on catching something this late at night with her magic. Kitsondra noticed Lily talking to a panicked looking Marietta, but decided against going over and finding out what was wrong. Kitsondra doubted she would say anything important now, least of all to her. Best to see what was up in the morning when the girl had calmed down. Sitting down with her back against a tree, Kitsondra closed her eyes; taking in the warmth of the fire. She huffed slightly when Toren spoke of having defeated the Nazha, commenting under her breath about the one that had ran away. However, she left it at that. Kitsondra, or any of the other camp members, didn't get must rest however, as the howling of wolves soon filled the camp as four large ones jumped out from the darkness. Kitsondra, like Yara, was about to react, but stop when she saw Lily go into some kind of trance-like state and calm the Wolves down. The peace quickly died out though, as a Shrieker seemed to have followed the wolves and attacked both Sera and Toren, but not before putting out the fire Kitsondra had worked to make. "Great, now a damn Shrieker." Kitsondra mildly annoyed began gathering magic into her right hand. "...It's just been one thing after another recently hasn't it?" Releasing the magic, she summoned her Shadow Fox familiar who instantly melted into the darkness of the forest. Kitsondra then tried to track the Shrieker down, however, it was moving to fast. She would need to slow it down first before she could take it out...

Bastet -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/20/2015 15:55:44)
The silent conversation between Symphony and Samjet had been abruptly ended by the wolves’ howl, and the duo moved as they had before. They might only have cooperated a small number of times before, but they had already estabilished how they would carry out their fighting. The bard swiftly left control to the swordsman as he immediately stood up and nearly drew his sword before Toren ordered Yara to stand down. Samjet followed suit and observed the wolves move out of the woods, approaching Lily: he didn’t understands the events before him entirely, but he stood down as the others did. Rather than making offensive moves, he unburdened himself of the guitar that Symphony carried on their back. However, as soon as the flames disappeared and the shrieker made its appearance, Samjet moved. A brief burst of red light shone in the darkness as the demonic powers in the sword transformed Symphony, and Samjet quickly moved closer to the other adventurers that had joined the group. His reasoning was that if they stuck closer togheter, fending off the horrific creature that had begun attacking them would've been much easier. The sword gave off a few sparks as its power was tapped further into, and the warrior from the Plains spoke to those close to him. "Let's regroup, so that dealing with this monster will be easier. The last thing we should do is allow ourselves to be picked off one by one."

TJByrum -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/24/2015 10:51:59)
Toren pulled himself up off the of the girl, Lily, and they both looked around to see what it was happening. Kitsondra had summoned her Shadow Fox, but still needed to slow it down. "Let's regroup, so that dealing with this monster will be easier. The last thing we should do is allow ourselves to be picked off one by one," Symphony announced. Toren took Lily's hand and ran to the center of the camp, next to the fire. "You stay behind me, girl, you hear?" Lily nodded in acceptance, clutching Toren's side as she looked around frightened. "Symphony is right, everyone to the center! Let it come and give it all you got! Kitsondra, see if you can't get your magic working on it when it charges us!" The Shrieker let out another horrifying scream as it shredded through the brush around them and turned sharply to cut through the camp, right towards Toren again. This time, Toren braced and dove at the creature. Toren was still sent flailing to the side, Lily in tow, but the creature had slowed down somewhat, perhaps giving Kitsondra, Marietta, or Sera to fire upon it.

Kellehendros -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/25/2015 13:12:36)
Marietta listened quietly as Lily told her story. The half-elf’s expression fell as the girl spoke. It seemed that Lily had been through a great deal. Her talk of having died troubled the hunter though. The evidence of the wound seemed to bear out Lily’s story, and yet… Having died, was it really possible to return to the realm of the living? Marietta was aware of necromancy, though she had never seen an example of it first-hand. Lily seemed as alive and well as the half-elf herself was. If she had been brought back from death, assuming such a thing was possible, she was something that could pass as human convincingly, or was actually fully restored to life. The girl didn’t seem a vampire to Marietta, and the hunter couldn’t think of anything else undead that could so fully mimic life. But if that was the case, then… That meant it was possible, actually possible, to return from death. For a moment the world blurred, and the half-elf bit down on her lip hard, turning her face away from Lily. There were stories, so many stories, about people coming back. The hunter had searched for years, meeting nothing but frustration. Everyone told the stories, but they had never been more than stories, wondertales. Was it really possible, could it be true? Marietta had no time to ask any questions of the girl. She was swiping at her eyes to clear the moisture from them when the wolves began to howl. The hunter was on her feet as quickly as Yara, an arrow set to her string. She glanced sharply at Toren as the man stepped up to prevent Yara from acting, calling on Lily. Marietta shifted, frowning as she glanced at the girl. Her eyes went wide as the girl moved fearlessly, almost blindly, towards four great wolves that emerged from the foliage. The hunter shifted uneasily, watching in cautious silence, afraid to breathe and upset the delicate progression of events before her. The silence was shattered by an ear-splitting shriek seconds after the fire flared and guttered out, plunging the camp into darkness. Marietta swore, dropping to one knee and clapping her hands over her ears. Her bow clattered to the ground as the half-elf swore viciously, the shriek cutting across her enhanced senses painfully. Shaking her head and trying to clear the ringing in her skull, the hunter snatched up her bow and the fallen arrow, rising back to her feet and nocking. Moving slowly, Marietta walked backwards towards the group, eyes darting through the gloom of the forest, seeking a sign of the shrieker. The beast let out another wailing scream and the half-elf flashed about, eyes narrowing in concentration. Toren toppled to one side as the creature blurred past. The hunter drew, tracking for a moment, and then released, arrow snapping from the string, aimed for the shrieker’s leg. A hit should slow the creature, depriving the creature of at least the advantage of speed it possessed. That alone might be enough to drive the thing off, though what they really needed now was light.

blankmaskara -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/26/2015 10:05:40)
The night seemed endless, with only darkness to accompany Franklin as he attempted to find his way out of the haunted labyrinth. Gnarled roots and branches rose out from the ground and reached out the skies menacingly, leaving twisted, misshapen, ominous shadows in their wake. Meanwhile, the muffled whispers and cries of alien, unfamiliar creatures echoed throughout the forest, creating an atmosphere of a disquieting, unnerving restlessness. A fear even, as if, amongst the dark stillness of the place, for some unexplained reason he might unravel and lose himself to the demon. This anxiety plagued him for the better of many hours, sending him into chills of panic. Every time the shadows would move just an inch, or the whispers seem even a bit closer to him than they should've been, he would stop. All movement halted, with wary eyes scouring left and right, forwards and backwards for any threat. Often, after these moments he would end up frustrated, furious at himself for dropping to such a lowly state. He knew that to be like this was to be the worst kind of pathetic, yet on the same end it was inevitable. He was tired, drained, and in need of rest. Not long after he had arrived he threw himself headfirst into call for arms against the Nazha, only to fall onto the earth, asleep, as the rest of the party ventured into the forest. And even then, the sleep wasn't enough. What should've been a good couple hours of rest instead turned into a feverish nightmare, locked into a world of monochrome gray and red as his captor spoke to him of things he would rather forget. Eventually as time passed, the gates of the town of Blackwater rose in the distance, the warm light of the torches a welcome respite from the cold darkness of the Darkwald. Never thought I'd come to appreciate civilization this much.. "Hey! You there! Watcha doin' o'er there, eh?" Surprised eyes darted out from under his hood, breath cut short by the sudden voice. A knife slipped out from under his sleeve to the back of his hand. Whichever rascal addressed him would pay for addressing him in such a manner, bandit or not. They would suffer fo-- "Oh, oh dear," voice sounding thoroughly relieved, with a faux raspy tone just for good measure, "just an old man passing through. You wouldn't mind, would you?" And no, you sure as hell shouldn't, you lowly sow of a guard, because I've had enough issues to deal with and I will NOT stand to have another one. With you, especially. "Well," a loud huff from the man, "Normally, at any other time of the day I wouldn't, but seeing as how it's dark and all.. Maybe, I will. Unless, of course, you have something for me," he replied, the rub of gloved fingers and the yellow, toothy grin suggesting the expectance of payment. Mentally fuming at the sheer boldness of the guard's actions, Franklin limped over with a noticeable severity, dropping a coin into the open palms of the man. "Why, thank you for your generosity, sir. Welcome to the town of Blackwa'er. Enjoy yer stay," he stated rather thankfully, a friendly clap of the hand on Franklin's shoulder, letting go as he shouldered past him. With long, rather aloof strides, the sorcerer made his way to the Hallows Inn, opening the doors to the welcome sight of quiet chatter and the clink of drinks and silverware, as wenches sifted through the tables taking orders for the patrons of the place. Taking the sight in with much relief, Franklin was about to head towards his room, only for something to catch his attention. A strange, dusty tome sat on one of the tables, with a strange, sinister atmosphere surrounding it. He wasn't sure where this feeling came from, exactly, but he knew that it was there. The book was not ordinary in the least, and something about it demanded attention. The fact the nun from earlier was in possession of it only made matters more interesting. Curiosity eventually won him over, and he settled himself on a stool across from the nun. With a bemused tone, he asked, "Hello there, hope you don't mind if I ask but, what's that book over there? Mind if I take a look?"

Master K -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/26/2015 14:07:44)
"Prophecy. Fate. Artificial deity. Blood. Siblings. Stone Faced Saint. Malice. Protect yourself. Protect them. Protect-" "Hello there, hope you don't mind if I ask but, what's that book over there? Mind if I take a look?" The man's inquiry woke her from her haze. Marcelline had since zoned out, left alone with the thoughts of her prophecy, and what it could possibly mean to her. She had seen the man previously, from the battle with the Nazha. He looked rather tired, with sunken eyes and a general worn out demeanor. His clothing was quite modest, and dirty and travel worn. His weapon of choice, a gnarled wooden staff, seemed quite peculiar. He certainly could not be the stone faced saint that the Red Lady had mentioned, but he did bear some investigation. His interest in to the tome was also markedly interesting, but it was a dangerous game to play. Marcelline had to maintain her nun facade, while divulging about the old witches tome. Marcelline carefully picks up the book. "This tome" Marcelline said, looking at it. "I am not sure what it is, to be quite honest." "That's a a straight faced lie." She thought to herself. "It's wrote in some sort of runic script. There are also illustrations, but I cannot seem to make sense of those either." "Summoning circles, bloodletting, spellcasting, rune drawing..." "I found it in the forest, from a demon that I and Kitsondra banished. I hail from the village of Lilium in Eastmarch, and one of my missions from the Church of Lilium Township was to cleanse evil in Darkwald whenever the opportunity arises." "Well I never was formally contracted by the church, but I did do some work with the church. Enough to get me this guise, and so that people would not argue. She then handed over the book, and looked directly at the man. "I am Marcelline. And who may you be?"

Draycos777 -> RE: The Hallows Inn (5/28/2015 16:41:02)
As the shrieker darted in and out of the trees, another presence drew Kitsondra's attention away as Samjet spoke something about regrouping. Although Kitsondra could see perfectly in pitch blackness of Darkwald's night, she couldn't find the source of the presence she had just felt. Unusual and troubling where the first thoughts that came to mind, however, Toren's yell snapped Kitsondra back to the situation at hand. "Symphony is right, everyone to the center! Let it come and give it all you got! Kitsondra, see if you can't get your magic working on it when it charges us!" No later after having said this, did the shrieker choose to attack Toren yet again. This time however, the man was prepared and dove at the monster as well. Despite being pushed to the side again, Toren manged to slow the creature down. Marietta, not missing a moment to strike, lodged an arrow into the creature's leg. That's was exactly what Kitsondra was waiting for. As the shrieker let loose an ear-piercing scream, the shadow fox that had being waiting out of the way leaped out and bit down on the monster's neck and shoulder. The two creatures struggled against eachother, as the shrieker flailed around to rip of the fox that was mauling it. The fox, pouring all of it's magic into the bite as soon thrown off and landing on the ground faded into nothingness. The shadow fox's sacrifice had not been in vain though. On the the shrieker's wound a purple, glowing rune began to appear. In response the shrieker began to shake and cry out in pain. With the creature now immobilized, Kitsondra, launched a blast of condensed magic at it, blasting it into a tree. The shrieker hit the tree hard and a satisfying crunching sound soon followed. The shrieker slumped over. If it wasn't dead yet, it soon would be. Kitsondra was about to attack it with other magic blast when the presence from before once again caught her attention. Quickly turning around, Kitsondra stared face-to-face at only the Darkwald forest yet again. A sense of uneasiness washed over Kitsondra. For as long as she had lived, there where only five beings she knew that where capable of hiding themselves from her after she had noticed their presence. Of those five only one of them was good, and if it was that one they would have shown up by now. The presence soon disappeared, this time for good. "Besides, this presence feels different then her's does. It feels like one I'd had hoped I'd never see again." Kitsondra turned back to the others to speak, a sense of urgency in her voice this time. "We shouldn't waste anymore time in this forest then what we have to. As soon as the hour dawn breaks the night we should hurry back to Blackwater." Kitsondra looked back at the shrieker. "As for that, it should be dead or dieing, however if any of you wish to run it through... I wont object."

blankmaskara -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/4/2015 15:38:15)
Cool and composed, the nun appeared to be clean. There was no hint of any dark, deep-seated secrets to be found beneath her strikingly pale skin. It was as if she was completely innocent, simply another devout maiden dwelling in one of the darker portions of the world. But that's never quite true, is it? Especially for those who consciously seek this place out. The girl went on with her tale, full at ease, with Franklin listening to he every word. According to her, the book used the belong in the hands of a demon, but after the owner was banished with some help from the information broker, Kitsondra, the tome found its way into the nun's hands. However, ironically enough, she couldn't make any sense out of the text held within. The story held up well enough in the sorcerer's head. A demon is slain (with some help, of course) and one of its tools, a strange, unidentifiable tome, is left behind. It seemed simple enough, although one part didn't quite make sense. Why would Kitsondra help her? It didn't seem characteristic of an information broker to help just out of goodness, so why-- "I am Marcelline. And who may you be?" Her introduction snapped Franklin out of it. Quickly, he scrambled for a reply. "Ah, well, name's Franklin. Pleasure to meet you. And, well," A look at the book being handed over, "Why, thank you." Carefully taking the tome, he started to browse through. The runes were old, no doubt. They were far, far more ancient than any other kind of language or script he had seen before. Considering its age and his unfamiliarity to such kinds of text, it was completely unrecognizable, and it frustrated him. All this information, right in front of him, yet he couldn't understand even the slightest bit. His fingers traced the runes, attempting to find some sort of trick or otherwise that might unlock the secret to it all. However, there wasn't. There were only blocks and blocks of unreadable, undecipherable words. Yet, strangely enough, after long strenuous moments of reading, analyzing, and trying to find even just something, the runes started to become more familiar, like something long dead coming back to life. A smile came to his lips, and his eyes blazed over the pages with newfound zeal. However, at that very moment, dark tendrils clouded his vision, threatening to swallow it whole, while a familiar voice echoed once again through his mind. "Just say Yes. Let me in, and all of this will be yours." The offer was tempting, and madly so. All that knowledge, right in front of him. He could take it, if he wanted to. He just had to let go. Let it take control. "Come on. Just say Yes. How hard could that be?" For a moment, he hesitated. He wanted to, but he knew better. He wasn't going to fall for it a second time. Not now, not ever. Get out already, you. With that, the darkness seemed to fade away, the prescence of the demon fading. And, the sensation, the feeling of familiarity, gone as well. Despite this, the illustrations remained, and were simple enough to understand. They depicted rituals and spells of all sorts, demanding the flesh and blood of both familiar and strange creatures alike. Humans too, even. To what end? He had no clue, but from the drawings the incantations lead to, such as horrors bursting out of bloodied, tarnished corpses, as well as numerous transfigurations and transformations, he could only guess at the sinisterness of whatever was to happen. Franklin shifted his gaze to look back at the girl once more, unable to resist even the slightest smirk. "Well, I must admit, this tome is quite...interesting. Difficult to decipher as well, no doubt, although, I guess you figured as much. But, still. We could discuss things and start to decipher the text, given enough time, although," he leaned in, locking eyes with the girl, transfixed onto her, "that will depend on whether or not you'd want my help. It is yours, after all."

brotherinlaw -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/4/2015 16:12:39)
As Graye walked through the woods for the third day, all he could hear over his stomach rumbling was the nonstop voice of Jackal "We've been walking for DAYS! I KNEW we should have taken the regular route.... The regular route requires papers. Papers we don't have. And that's because.......? Papers require a physical, and in case you didn't no-" Growls from the surrounding woods stopped them cold. Looking around, Graye caught sight of wolves hiding in the shadows of the trees. Luckily, all it took was a quick drawing of the hood and a look into each of their eyes to scare them off. "Should've eaten them. Probably woulda tasted GREAT! No! I'll try anything once, but I happen to have a soft-spot for canines! Probably 'cause you're such a -" Another interruption , this time followed by the most inhuman shriek, followed by a commotion. "Sounds like someone needs help! Sounds edible! Let's go! Just stay quiet for awhile!" With that, Graye pulled up his hood and took off in the direction of the noise, about a minute away.

Bastet -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/5/2015 3:30:57)
Samjet was disappointed in seeing the shrieker defeated so easily by the shadow fox’s suicidal attack, as he had hoped for a decent fight against such a creature. With his sword ready to strike, he watched as the woman-like monster was launched into a tree by some magical attack from Kitsondra. Leaving his eyes on her momentarily, he noticed that something briefly disturbed the vampire. Turning around, she spoke for the first time since she had single-handedly defeated the shreaking monstrosity that had assaulted the group. "We shouldn't waste anymore time in this forest then what we have to. As soon as the hour dawn breaks the night we should hurry back to Blackwater." Kitsondra looked back at the shrieker. "As for that, it should be dead or dieing, however if any of you wish to run it through... I wont object." The swordsman felt Symphony gently pressuring him to regain control of their body, but he answered with a calm voice. Just a moment longer, my friend. May it never be that I turn down the chance to spill the blood of an enemy of mine, especially one that could return if not properly dealt with. Samjet briskly walked over to the agonizing shrieker, and struck thrice with deadly speed an efficiency. First the creature’s right arm, then the left one, and finally its head. The screams it let out were disturbing even to him, but the joy of putting his sword to use overshadowed that disturbance. After that, he quickly returned control of the body to its original owner, sheathing the sword. As Symphony returned to their normal form, they took back all their equipment and re-approached the rest of the grou. “I agree with Kitsondra, we should begin moving towards Blackwater as quickly as we can.”

TJByrum -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/6/2015 9:15:48)
A sharp pain emerged from the Shrieker's ankle and it let out another, though more painfully-sounding screech. It lifted its leg up to avoid putting pressure on it, compensating its balance by using its two arms and other leg to quickly scramble into the forest. Unfortunately for it, before it could reach the trees, a shadowy fox-like spirit pounced upon its neck and shoulder, ripping its teeth deep into the fleshy skin. It spun around, wailing and screeching and making great strides in its panic, pulling and clawing at the fox until finally it was thrown across the way and dissolved into nothingness. It would have begun to regain its sense and flee back into the wood, if not for the immobilizing effect that appeared on its wound. Not a moment later a force of powerful magic slammed the creature into a nearby tree. The belligerents couldn't tell whether the tree cracked, or perhaps one of the Shrieker's bones fractured. A moment of peace ensued as the Shrieker let out whimpering tones, its head slowly moving around as it tried to regain its strength. "We shouldn't waste anymore time in this forest then what we have to, "Kitsondra began, "As soon as the hour dawn breaks the night we should hurry back to Blackwater. As for that, it should be dead or dieing, however if any of you wish to run it through... I wont object." Samjet, apparently, didn't object. With a couple of strikes to its arm, and a final one to its head, the being known as Symphony dispatched the Shrieker before the rest of the group. “I agree with Kitsondra, we should begin moving towards Blackwater as quickly as we can.” Toren sheathed his blade when all was clear and shook his head at the others. "You should head back to Blackwater. I'm heading north, back to Asgeir, remember? And so is Lily. We'll find the main road easy enough, no need to worry." Toren walked over to Sera and, after rummaging around in one of his pockets, pulled a coin out. "I said I'd pay you eventually Sera." Toren held the coin out for Sera to take. It was no ordinary coin. It was obviously old judging by its scratched, worn surfaces. One would initially think it was iron, but when it dropped into Sera's hand even she wouldn't recognize the unusually unique metal make-up. On one side was the image of a wolf's head bearing its fangs. Runic inscriptions of northern dialect was written around the edges, circling around the wolf's head. The other side featured the image of a man's face, no doubt some legendary hero from the north, carrying a shield and sword and standing atop what appeared to be a mountain. It too had runic inscriptions around the edges. Kitsondra would have been able to sense a very faint, but very ancient magic emanating from the object. "This is not money to spend. But it's worth a lot more than you think. Hold on to it, and when the time comes, you'll know when to use it." Behind Toren, Lily grinned but turned her head so Sera wouldn't see her. Apparently, she knew the value of such a coin. "Come now, girl," Toren said, "we have a long way to go." Toren said his goodbyes to the group, as did Lily. As they trekked off northwards, Lily looked over her shoulder and gave a cute smile and nod to Marietta. It wasn't long before that when the being known as Graye burst into the clearing with the others. By then, however, Toren and Lily disappeared into the forest. It would be morning soon, and perhaps the magic in the forest was wearing off even now, and maybe the combined efforts of Kitsondra, Sera, and Marietta could lead the group back to Blackwater.

Gingkage -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/8/2015 9:40:14)
It seemed quite a bit happened in a hurry. One moment the group was quiet, involved in their own thoughts and conversations. And then the next a loud shriek tore through the air, and the Shrieker that was behind the sound had slammed into her. In a failing on her part, Sera was thrown backwards, hitting a tree with enough force to daze her momentarily. By the time she had cleared her head, Symphony - or at least something that had been Symphony until the strange sword the bard carried was drawn - was taking care of killing it. Sera had little time to react as Toren was walking over, handing her a strange coin. She studied it carefully. She had never seen its make before and was uncertain of the value of it. "This is not money to spend. But it's worth a lot more than you think. Hold on to it, and when the time comes, you'll know when to use it." That... told her absolutely nothing about why she should accept this as payment. But looking at Toren, it was clear he had little of value. And Lilly was still young, and had been a large enough factor in her deciding to help that Sera was willing to allow the scales to be balanced. "Adequate," she said, pocketing the strange coin, but keeping it separate from the rest of her money so as to ensure it didn't get mixed up with it. A coin she couldn't spend had no place with coin she could, after all. She almost smiled in amusement at the turn of events. Twice now, her services had been bought and paid for with an alternative source of payment. It was rare for such to happen even once and she was privately sure she was one of if not the only bounty hunter to be so fluid in what she would accept as payment. Most of her 'coworkers' would accept only gold for their services. It must have come from being a trader's daughter. She saw just as much value in food, or clothing, or a night's shelter, or a lesson in improving her archery as she did coin. It let her accept a trade of an equivalent value to the work she had done. On that note, she needed to sit down with Marietta at some point and discuss just how much her aid with this little problem was worth to the both of them. Turning over what she had done in her mind, an easy task as it was very little, she weighed that against the value of aid with her archery. "One lesson should balance the scales, I think." Right now wasn't the best time to approach the half-elf over payment, a matter she preferred to handle in private as a rule. But she made a note to ask Sloan where she lived and go down at her earliest convenience to see if Marietta still found their earlier terms acceptable or if another form of payment needed worked out.

TJByrum -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/13/2015 14:35:05)
Sunrise, north of the Darkwald "There it is, girlie, home stretch." Breaking out of the forest, Lily observed what Toren saw: a stone archway signifying a traveler's arrival in Asgeir. These gateways had been constructed along every major highway heading into the northlands long ago, representing the holdings of some past king. "Looks like someone's coming too," Lily said, spotting the silhouette of a lone traveler down the road. As Toren and Lily continued down the road they made the figure out: it was none other than Toric Valgard himself, father of Lily. "Talk about a timely arrival, eh girl?" The two companions smiled at the sight of the man. Lily was glad to see her father again, and Toren was relieved his duty had been fulfilled. Wonder what it was that Toric would need next? Lily let out a cheerful squeal and took off running to her father. He instantly dropped to one knee and held his arms out. Lily, arms outstretched as well, brought herself into his embrace. Toric, obviously happy, lifted her up and hugged her tight, eyes closed and with a tear coming down his face. Toren approached at his normal pace, but could overhear the rejoicing and eager words coming from the two. It was a beautiful to see, father and daughter reunited, especially after what both had been through. Toren stayed a few paces back, giving them both room, respectful enough to not intervene. "Toren... my brother!" Toric turned his attention to Toren and slowly approached him with a relieved attitude. "I... I can't even begin to describe how I feel. I'm not even sure I know what to say." Toric was a tall, stout man, built like an athlete, but his appearance and movement reminded one of a wolf. He had long black hair that hung down to his shoulders, a full, black beard, dark blue eyes, bushy eyebrows and fair skin. A thick, dark-colored fur traveling coat hung over his person, worn from wear-and-tear. "Heh, you certainly changed in your time away, no?" "It's... a side effect of Sidonis' ritual, I would reckon. It's not a problem, friend, I'm just happy to be back." "Yes, right. Right." Toric's face turned to a grim and somber look. "Lily, baby, turn around and cover your ears. Don't look back." Toren looked astounded at Toric. He was about to speak until Toric reached and unbuckled his coat, letting it fall to the ground, revealing chainmail armor and a dark steel blade. Behind him, Lily took a few steps back, her eyes wet with tears, before finally turning and looking away. "Er... Toric? What're you doing?" Confusion began to set in, and with his heart racing Toren took a step back. "Sorry brother." Toric unsheathed his sword. "I'm grateful for your services, as you're aware. And I'll never forget what you did for me. I'll make sure to record your name in the annals of history, should I succeed in my quest." Shaking his head, all Toren could say was "no. No, Toric, you don't have to do this. I... I don't understand-" "You were just an asset, Toren. A tool. You had one job, and you've done it perfectly. But now you're a liability, a loose end. And I can't have any loose ends, can I brother? You know this. Don't struggle, it'll just make things worse." Still shaking his head at this betrayal, Toren let out a tear and fell to his knees. "I won't fight you, Toric. I... I can't..." "Good," he replied, "that's the way it oughtta be." A thrust into the chest pierced the demon-warrior's heart. Toric drove it further in, twisting it as he did so, making sure the man was dead. Using his foot, he pushed the dead body off of his blade. The lifeless carcass of Toren fell limply to the side. "Alright, baby girl, let's go home." Sunrise, back at Blackwater "Halt! Who're you?" "I dun' like the look of that one!" Two guards at the north gate contemplated the thought of letting three new arrivals into the town. The one which seemed to be the group leader was a slim but built man, wearing dark leather armor. He had combed back black hair, blue eyes, and a loose expression. One of his companions was an armored lady, wearing pieces of platemail, with a blonde ponytail and pretty blue eyes. The other was an old man, wearing a ragged, dark purple robe; it seemed his bald head had loaned its hair to his long, gray beard; a warped walking stick allowed the man to support himself. "The name's Vaelun," he said carelessly, as if annoyed by the sudden stoppage at the gates. "This is Velen," he said, motioning to the lady, "and Moran," pointing to the old man. "Ilk like you bring trouble. Don't nobody here won't no trouble! Turn back and go home!" "Ridiculous," Vaelun said under his breath. "I'm a monster slayer. And these are my... monster slaying buddies. We slay monsters, as the profession's name implies. Wouldn't it be great to have a monster hunter amongst the locals?" Velen stepped forward with heavy steps and an aggravated look, pulling Vaelun back as did so. "Let us in, or we'll break that gate down," she said fiercely. "We're not trouble makers! We make trouble go away!" As Vaelun and Velen made their case, the old man said nothing. But if one had watched carefully, he moved his fingers in mysterious ways before picking up the stick an inch off the ground, then resting it again. The two dimwitted guards blinked their eyes and one replied "uh... yes... open the gates!" Vaelun and Velen looked at each other, smiling, but completely unaware of Moran's magic. The walk to the local inn didn't take long, and none of the locals really paid them any attention. They actually seemed... normal here. Walking onto the bridge-like entrance of the inn, Vaelun entered first. The smell of breakfast food filled the air, and the fire in the center of the inn beckoned to the weary group. Velen shoved her way past Vaelun and looked around. "Ugh... never have I seen such a cesspit so wrought with brigands and crooks. A perfect place for our crusade!" "Er... right, crusade, whatever," Vaelun said, strolling ahead, looking gleefully at the barmaids. Velen shook her head in disgust. Moran slowly hobbled forward as well. "Now, now, Velen, leave him be." His voice was old and raspy, almost as if he struggled to speak. He leaned against his staff and shook as he tried to turn to see the lady. "Find us a place to seat, m'lady, I'm liable to fall over if we don't hurry." "Sorry, Moran," Velen replied, supporting the old man to a booth in the corner of the inn. She helped Moran sit down and he grunted, relieved. Velen noticed a lot of the men glancing at her. "Look at these poor sods," she said, "they're happy to see a heroine in their midst." Moran shook his head and chuckled, "I hardly think that's the case, m'lady." Velen took a seat on the other side of the booth and looked at Moran curiously. "They're not happy to see a heroine, they're happy to see a woman worth looking at." Velen blinked a few times at Moran with disbelief, looking embarrassed. A cheerful Vaelun strolled towards the bar, spinning around to catch a good look at a passing young wench. "My, my" he said, nearly tripping over himself. He took a seat at the bar and called out to Sloan, "hey fellow, how much for one of the ladies?" Sloan turned to see Vaelun and walked over to him. "Margery's free, if you want her." "Free!? Well, which one is Margery?" "That one," Sloan said, pointing in the direction of an ugly, rounded woman with bad skin. Sloan began to laugh as he turned his back and walked off, "we do business here, fool, not pleasure. "Pfft." Vaelun ignored the barkeep and stood back up, disappointed. "Just bring us some ale," he told Sloan. Spotting his two comrades sitting in the corner, he made his way over to them, taking a seat next to Velen. "So, now we wait." "We wait?" Velen obviously seemed impatient. "Yes, we wait. It's one of the easiest parts of our job. It's where you sit patiently at a table and- as the action suggests- wait for people to come to you." An impatient Velen responded with "this is how you get volunteers? By waiting for a bunch of drunken men to notice us?" Vaelun looked down as if he was thinking, then looked back at Velen, "pretty much." By then, one of the barmaids had made her way over to the table and sit some mugs of ale on it. "Oh! I forgot the best part about waiting. While we're waiting on drunken men to notice us, we get drunk too!" Vaelun laughed loudly, "isn't this great?" Moran shook his head and sighed.

Draycos777 -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/14/2015 19:33:51)
As Toren and Lily vanished from sight, Kitsondra too prepared to leave the make-shift campsite. "I think we've wasted enough time out here. It's almost daylight, so the magic of the forest should have worn off by now. I'm heading back to the inn. If you wish to follow me, I won't mind, but keep up or you'll get left behind." With that, Kitsondra turn around and took off without waiting to see if anyone followed after her. The entire way back to town, Kitsondra kept silent, nervously looked to the sides trying to catch a glimpse of whatever she had felt during the fight with the shrieker. However she didn't see or feel anything except that which was normally in the Darkwald forest. As trees gave way to the town of Blackwater. Once she saw the inn, Kitsondra let loose a sigh of relief and walked inside. Making her way to the stairs, Kitsondra eye'd three newcomers to the town. Normally, Kitsondra would go up to them and learn as much as she could about them through idle chatter. However, she was concerned about other matters, and continued up the stairs and to her own room after taking a quick glance at each of the three; Kitsondra didn't even happen to notice Marcelline looking over the ritual book with the other demonspawn. As morning began to set in, fog started to cover the ground around the edges of Blackwater as a, rather large, gray-furred bat flew into the Hallows inn. Coming in through an open window, it landed on an old mage's walking stick; who was sited at a table with two others. The bat looked at the old man for a second before turning it's body and seeing Marcelline reading the book from before with another. The bat leaped down from the walking stick onto the table. Moving to the edge, the bat screeched at the young, nun-like girl across the room, trying to get her attention.

Kellehendros -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/14/2015 21:20:38)
It was a good shot. The arrow struck through the shrieker’s ankle, hobbling it and crippling its swift gait. Her reward for the shot was another pain-inducing howl from the monstrosity, and Marietta bit down on the inside of her cheek hard as she winced, tasting blood. She was going to have a headache after this, and a rather lovely one, judging by the ringing in her sensitive ears. The hunter nocked another arrow, but was prevented from taking further action as Kitsondra’s magic smashed the shrieker into a nearby tree. Slumping to the dirt, the beast wheezed brokenly, apparently dismissed from the broker’s notice as she turned to stare into the forest. The hunter glanced in the direction Kitsondra stared, wondering for a moment what it was that the woman had heard or felt. Kitsondra dismissed it after another moment, making no comment on the matter as she spoke of returning to Blackwater. Marietta glanced up, peering through the interlacing branches forming the wooden rampart that blotted out most of the sky. There was, ever so imperceptibly, a lightening of the sky, bare shreds of illumination filtering through the net of branches. The half-elf was pulled from her contemplation by a movement, and she glanced back towards the shrieker, seeing Symphony moving with purpose and blade towards the downed monster. Marietta’s expression dimmed as the bard’s sword flashed, loping of the creature’s arms, then its head. It was not that she disagreed with the slaying of the monster. She would have done it herself, if no one else had. Rather, her disagreement was with Symphony’s method and approach. The shrieker had attacked them, this much was true, and it would have enjoyed picking them apart had it been able to do so. But what Symphony had done was no execution, no mercy stroke. The bard’s actions were butchery, pure and simple, and the hunter misliked the action, not to mention the expression on Symphony’s altered face as her blade tasted blood. Arrow resting still upon the string, Marietta eyed Symphony warily, holding her silence as the bard spoke up in agreement with Kitsondra. Toren’s voice reached her a few moments later, and the half-elf turned her eyes to the mercenary and his charge, watching as Toren turned over his payment to Sera. The pair took their leave after that, and the hunter inclined her head slightly in reply to Lily as the pair moved down the trail, whispering a soft benediction only Yara might have caught. The little girl had had a hard life, and for her part the half-elf hoped it might get a little better after this. Marietta’s blue eyes flicked to Kitsondra as the woman broke the group’s silence following Toren and Lily’s departure. The half-elf rolled her eyes discreetly, ignoring the broker’s words. While she had shown that she was more capable of surviving in the wilderness than the hunter had expected, Marietta did not care for the arrogance of her declaration. She could find her way back to Blackwater without Kitsondra’s help; she had done it often enough before. Nonetheless, the journey back to the wall proved itself uneventful, and thankfully Marietta managed to make it back inside with the others without any grief from the guards at the gate. The guards were too busy talking a trio of new arrivals to town. The half-elf felt no need to go and see these… monster hunters… for herself. At the moment she wanted to go home, rest, and try, somehow, to soothe the ache that had lodged itself behind her eyes since the encounter with the shrieker. The hunter turned to the path towards her little abode, but paused after a moment, looking at Sera. “I… I was going to go home,” Marietta ventured, equal parts caution and embarrassment in her tone. “If you wanted to speak about our arrangement, perhaps you would join me for some tea?”

Master K -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/17/2015 21:35:27)
Jolted from a daze, Marcelline came to her senses upon hearing a bat screeching at her. Was it the one connected to Kitsondra? Had she returned back to the Inn? Morning had arrived in Darkwald. Marcelline closed the tome, and decided to pack it away. She glanced over, and noticed a group of people. A slick looking roguish man, wearing dark leather armor. Accompanying him was a fresh faced young woman, wearing plate armor. She seemed to have her wits about her, rather than the rogue. Finally, among them was an elderly wizard-type, clad in a purple robe and a wizened beard. She had heard them speak faintly, something about a crusade, fine women, brigands and crooks, and drinking...crusade? Sounds interesting. Sounds like something a nun would get involved with. "None of them look like stone faced saints." Marcelline thought to herself. "Maybe I'll be risque for a change and engage in conversation." Marcelline stood up, and headed over to the bar. "What can I get'cha, lass?" Sloan asked her kindly. "Tea." She replied. "A'right. One of the wenches will get to ya in a sec." Within a few moments, a barmaid went to her. She received a cup of tea, with a small plate to rest it upon. She picked up the cup and plate carefully, and walked over to the three people who had just arrived to the Inn. Marcelline did her best to hide her unease, and put on a muted expression. She approached their table, and stood before them. "Pardon." Marcelline said. "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 woman trudged down the stone path of Darkwald. As morning broke, she took a good look around the forest around her. "What a miserable place." She said. "Full of vagabonds, rogues, and heathens and heretics of all varieties." She was clad in flowing black robes, which showed minor wear and tear. The black robe had an open neck, revealing a white, cleaner robe underneath. Tied around the woman's waist was a gray ribbon, with a few sacks and pouches attached to it, as well as a sheath strapped to her back for her weapon. Upon her head was a nun's black headdress, bearing a the symbol of a cross. The headdress was very long, and easily came down to her lower back, and reached as far her wrists. She wore white laced gloves, and encircling her wrists were lovely white flowers, known as "Lily of the Valley", which permeated a strong floral scent. Her most jarring feature was her face, or apparent lack thereof. Instead, she wore a mask that appeared to be made what resembled obsidian. It had a closed mouth, an expression of calm, and deep wrinkles, which suggested that it was that of an older woman. "If I keep following this path, I'll find a settlement of some sort eventually..."

Gingkage -> RE: The Hallows Inn (6/19/2015 12:49:40)
Sera walked with the others back to the Inn in absolute silence, lost in thought. She'd been sloppy. There was absolutely no excuse for allowing herself to be struck by the Shrieker as hard as she had been. It was unprofessional and completely inexcusable. But it had happened. She would have to take steps to ensure it never happened again. "It's been some time since I sparred with someone. Perhaps I've been too lax. The guard here is nowhere near my own level, but perhaps they're better than no one at all. Unless I can find someone who's more skilled to-" She was jolted out of her thoughts when she felt eyes on her, and turned to meet Marietta's gaze. “I… I was going to go home. If you wanted to speak about our arrangement, perhaps you would join me for some tea?” Tea? She'd made arrangements with other clients before that weren't necessarily the exchange of funds for her services. None of them had gone out of their way to invite her to their homes for tea. Usually business was conducted at somewhere like the Hallows. Sometimes over drinks, yes. But she'd never received an invitation to someone's dwelling. How interesting. And despite herself, Sera found herself smiling slightly, though imperceptibly unless someone was paying close attention. From how awkward and tentative the offer had been, it was apparent that Marietta was as unused to such offers as she was. Well, she had noticed that the half-elf was as much a loner as she. It was only natural that offers for anything remotely social would be hesitant. "Lead the way," she answered with a nod, telling herself to get a grip. Yes, this was a more personable and social transaction than she was used to. But this was still business. She was being invited over to discuss payment for services rendered. She couldn't let herself forget that.

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