RE: ~*Getting To Know You*~


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10/8/2015 10:57:07

Draycos777
Member

"Ah! Why couldn't you have stayed over there, where it was safer for us both?"

As the woman spoke, Arche knew that she should run away, but instead is found her voice speaking out to counter Verna's words.

"-But a painting can only be considered art if thought as such by the person who views it. Humans have too many cultures, too many beliefs, too many 'colors' per-say. With each trying to put in their own style, or color, conflict can not be avoided, leading to the death of so many people. Too many colors are bound to conflict, overtake one another, and eventually bleed through the canvas. If there was only a few colors, so much more peace could be found."

Arche still didn't understand why instead of leaving, she was sitting here trying to hold a debate with this woman.

"The hell am I still here for! Stop talking and just leave already!"

Still, Arche continued as if she was plastered to her chair.

"-Even a painter doesn't use paints that he knows will change the image that he has in his mind, so why do humans? Instead of viewing the colors of culture, is it not better to see the color of races? Even a few colors can make a work-of-art if blended together the right way."

Arche having finally saying all that she had to say, got up as if the spell keeping her in her seat had been lifted.

"-Also, I had been to quite a few places in the world, however, none of them seemed to be ok with getting that close to someone unless both parties and prior contact."

With that Arche turned to make a break for the door, ready to pass through the shadows.

AQ	Post #: 26

10/8/2015 12:52:35

Afina
Weaver of Epic Yarns

Sana lifted her glass up and shook it in the air some towards the bartender, motioning for another before setting the empty vessel back on the bar top. She didn’t drink regularly but this wasn’t regular circumstances and the way she had been raised allowed her to hold her booze better than most though she was surely no sailor when it came to drinking she could hold her own. Picking at the food she made a grimace and then shrugged, it wasn’t like she could expect fine dining in this tavern. The food was average at best but at least it wasn’t dried meat and three day old sheep skin held water.

“I have no idea,” she said answering the question on how she came to this realm as she swallowed. “This is the,” she began before looking up and counting to herself. “Third fog for me. The last took me from performing in front of a king and his royal court and put me in the middle of some old battle field in the middle of winter. That was fun. The first one took me from group after we killed an Anti-Paladin and dumped me in some wagon traveling to the middle of nowhere,” she answered bluntly. Sana wasn’t one to mince words and she had no reason to hide anything. She didn’t care.

“They’re the ones I need to get back to, rag tag group but they were good. Funny mix though I will admit. Ex paladin, a monk, half-orc with a big club, a little goblin that could breathe fire, a flamboyant thief, female warrior, an elven axe swinging war cleric or and a bag of bones undead mute skeleton that kept this little fairy in a bottle to speak to us through,” she said as she leaned back and wiped her mouth with the so called napkin left by her plate. “Odd group but they could fight, really well.”

Perking a brow at the high born she rolled her eyes as she was handed the drink from the bartender and downed it, making a bit of a face from the burn before setting the glass back down she leaned forward. “Aren’t you the judgmental one. You like to spout out a lot and try to make yourself seem large but I see you slinking down in that seat of yours. You may have some tricks up your sleeve, may have a lot of big words to spout out at us and worry about your status but here’s the thing sweet cheeks. Real people, people like us. The bottom of the barrel type, well we are the ones that keep things moving, we do the dirty work. Whether that is in bed or in battle,” she said winking over towards Verna before turning her attention towards Keystone.

“Thanks, not really my thing but hey it pays the bills,” she said as she held the now refilled glass. “Names Sana Rawn, gypsy bard by birth, markswoman by choice,” she said as she took a sip of her drink. Sana looked back over towards Arche and rolled her eyes.

“I swear if you ramble off one more judgement on me or these folks I am going to plant such a deep kiss on your lips,” she said with a smirk as she leaned forward and puckered. "That'll make you see the full rainbow."

Post #: 27

10/8/2015 14:41:46

Remaint
Member

Eyes toward the interaction between Verna and the Noble Hunter, Woyadei listened intently to Sana’s descriptions. It’s maybe strange, but the undead conquistador found it easier to focus on another’s words when he isn’t looking at them.

Speaking of strange, Sana the bard and markswoman--Barkswoman!--was assuredly been through quite a peculiar bit. Her explanation of her fog experience didn’t present any clues for cause. The group she belonged to was a band of misfits, much like his own--ex paladin, female warrior, axey-elf and mute skeleton are especially familiar, but at a significantly smaller scale. What seemed to be her perspective regarding the undead relieved tension from Woyadei, the ‘Barkswoman’’s behaviour was not prejudiced toward the unliving if she kept one within her ranks. The same fearless tone was used in the descriptions, and the undead conquistador felt no reason to suspect something was amiss. A blunt fellow, a favourable contrast to Miss ManyThings.

Being an eager fighter and observer of his seniors, the undead conquistador naturally felt an anxiousness, an excitement one would have when about to spectate fights between combatants of glory and sport, when Sana mentioned her group’s competence in the Art of Mars. Woyadei would love to see some form of arena confrontation between those he knew and the archer's allies. Certain Kleinscharen members may complement or contrast well against Rawn’s own team.
He knew an ex-paladin, Viera who was blessed with the ability to wield solar radiation.
A former nun, Hollie who’s bodily agility and prowess with the yanyuedao was among the most graceful.
The elite wendigo Hakam, he who tears apart dracoliches with bare hands.
The veteran hydromancer Seysern, she who infiltrates and sabotages with combustions of water.
An ashigaru privateer, Sorin the ever-successful ship raider and wielder of weapons amplified by luxomancy.
‘Ever Enduring’ Ethna the targe and baskethilt duelist who survives like no-other undead warrior.
‘’Walking Wall’ Walcen the pyromancer elf encased in full-plate wielding shield and mace.

“...Real people, people like us. The bottom of the barrel type, well we are the ones that keep things moving, we do the dirty work. Whether that is in bed or in battle”

Actual-life entertainment snapped the undead out of his entertaining daydreaming. He couldn’t help but to grin, seeing people of high statuses being mocked while indignant lead to high chance of laughter and maybe a good confrontation or two. It truly was a sight to behold, supremely mannered and proper scythe-lady reduced to a shy child. Shame I lost attention when they were arguing art. He wondered how the young healing-hunter might respond.

“I swear if you ramble off one more judgement on me or these folks I am going to plant such a deep kiss on your lips,” she said with a smirk as she leaned forward and puckered. "That'll make you see the full rainbow."

The conquistador’s hand gradually hovered to the front of his mouth. He was afraid he might snicker too early. Please remain indignant, this could be quite the amusing night!

< Message edited by Remaint -- 10/8/2015 15:35:54 >

AQW	Post #: 28

10/8/2015 14:48:35

Draycos777
Member

“Aren’t you the judgmental one. You like to spout out a lot and try to make yourself seem large but I see you slinking down in that seat of yours. You may have some tricks up your sleeve, may have a lot of big words to spout out at us and worry about your status but here’s the thing sweet cheeks. Real people, people like us. The bottom of the barrel type, well we are the ones that keep things moving, we do the dirty work. Whether that is in bed or in battle,”

The bard's words made Arche freeze in her tracks, the shadows leaving her body. She was was already upset with the arrogance of this stranger and her emotions were slightly unstable, but the bards comments on her family pushed them over the line.

“I swear if you ramble off one more judgement on me or these folks I am going to plant such a deep kiss on your lips, that'll make you see the full rainbow."

"What did you say?"

The tiny voice of Arche's was replace with a much more bolder tone, with a low rumbling that seemed to come from the back of her throat. Almost as if someone merged the common tongue with a dragontongue accent. Arche's teeth began to sharpen and her pupils dilated and contracted until they finally stopped as silts. Magic gathered around her shoulder blades and her lower back. Turning towards the bard, Arche looked at her with anger in her eyes.

"What the hell do you know, ya freak'in hypocrite! Ya think I honest don't know what it's like for the commonfolk! My father and mother clawed their way up as merchants at the bottom of the barrel to get were they are now! All your type ever does is fight with eachother and deplore other races. How can something be judgmental if it is the truth, huh!?"

Arche's right fist was in the air and she was shaking it. It was all she could do from walking over to the bard and slamming it into her face.

"We care for the 'Real people' under our rule. My parents stood side-by-side with them for years tending and cultivating the mountainous land he bought, until it was the fertile landscape it is now! Even if it was a crummy piece of land, it was the only one they would give him. But even so, they still worked it day after day. Even now he still knows the name of every family in his land. 'A land grown by the people, is a land known by the people.' That was a saying that he told me countless times, but I doubt that someone like you, who doesn't understand philosophy, would understand it's meaning. As their child, the eyes of the people who hate my parents falls onto me too. So if worrying about my status 'cause of idiots like you, will keep them from tearing down all that my parents have worked for, then so be it! So don't sit here and act like you know me when you don't know a single think about me! Are you comparing me to the nobles of your world? What do they sit around all day with nothing to do just twiddling their thumbs all day? How can you call that a leader! Well guess what!? This isn't your world, so go take your own judgmental bull and shove it back into your 'rse! If you get that, THEN SHUT THE HELL UP!"

Arche took a few deep breaths before slightly calming down and straighting back up. A toothy smile flashed across her face.

"However, I didn't know you swung that way. Try it and I'll punch you so hard you won't be able to form coherent sentences with your lips."

AQ	Post #: 29

10/8/2015 15:28:31

Remaint
Member

A grin about to burst in laughter faded to one of sly amusement. The tight familial bond was expected, but this, this is not. She could be vampire-kind, devil-kind and no chance in hell for succubus. Well. That’s not true. A certain one I know didn’t act succubus at all.

The undead conquistador was greatly curious at what species was the raving fury within the tavern was. He excluded all undead, but leaving only demons didn’t clue any answer. Many demons and vampires could have slit-eyes and reptilian-like carnivore teeth. A brief thought of a dracolich flew by, but Woyadei dismissed it. Cat demon? Hmm.

The monologue regarding the cat demon’s background was supposedly moving, but the undead conquistador couldn’t find it within himself to relate to it in any way. He held no memory of any family. Truly, the only thought he has any relation of from his pre-unliving-life was being young, poor, working on a fishing boat under a strange captain, and obeying an order to blow up the engine, which of course lead to his death. There were mermaids-*shiver*. There was a girl too. She had white hair, like mine.

Woyadei inwardly shrugged at his train of thought. Nothing significant, a normal, working background. A little surge of pride did occur, when the cat demon mentioned the word ‘nobles’ in disdain. The nobles of Shuischeier, Morseren and for many times, Naktenvale and Karaser were not thumb-twiddlers at all. The Margraves of the Dominion, the Marschalls of Morseren, the Sea Lords of Shuischeier, the Night Lords of Naktenvale and even the Mafia Bosses of Karaser all proved their worth on the fields of toil, but that’s a train of thought for another time.

"However, I didn't know you swung that way. Try it and I'll punch you so hard you won't be able to form coherent sentences with your lips."

The undead conquistador continue to observe the conflict’s development with a smile prepared to loose laughter.

< Message edited by Remaint -- 10/8/2015 16:05:50 >

AQW	Post #: 30

10/8/2015 16:36:36

Sigil
Member

This had to be the most unusual pub conversation Keystone had ever been in, shy of the time Tinker Gnomes were involved. Now THAT was an awkward conversation; the primary focus being the appropriate use of steam power in the construction and implementation of artificial paramours for the outlying Brothelers' Guild. The present conversation - distant second, but still memorable. In no small part due to the people involved.

The corpse made itself comfortable nearby as the very interesting conversation continued. The large man turned to show his face fully, forced a quick smile, and sipped his foamy beverage while staring inquisitively. Judging distance, if the creature were openly malevolent, he actually preferred to be closer. So far, however, it just seemed to want to socialize. Things might be different in this world indeed. All the same, his own predisposition to its kind greatly influenced the level of socialization with which he was comfortable just yet. Resulting body language very likely gave his feelings away. Might as well be honest, if they're going to figure it out anyway. He leaned in to Woyadei to share his feelings on the situation:

"I find your presence bloody irksome, and I'm trying to deal with that." he spoke as a quiet, flat statement. Keystone raised his beer and continued, "Cheers."

Then the explosion of vocal affrontery engulfed the majority of his eardrums. How he loved tense situations in places that sold alcohol out in the middle of Scorched Armpit, Nowhere. As fun as this group hug of a conversation was, this was pointed to only one logical conclusion. If said conclusion actually came to pass, it would make this just another occasion wherein he would inflict horrifying blunt trauma upon people he just met. That would be largely counterproductive. A sinking feeling of deja vu later, he knew what must be done.

The cacophony of moral outrage continued spewing from its gracelessly vocal source, an occasion he ordinarily would sit back and chuckle at until the first punch was thrown in earnest. Usually, that would be his cue to open skulls and break fingers. Today, a different, more lasting impression would be made. With a fluidity of motion unexpected of a man his size, he rose and snatched a lit candle from the table near him.

As the venomous utterances reached their crescendo, Keystone thunked a barstool just to the side of the vocal fray, careful not to actually enter their circle of estrogeny aggression. The candle rested perfectly on the flat surface of the backless booze-chair; he only prayed it would remain upright for the next few moments. With subtlety and haste, his coarse pants lowered and he spun about, facing away from the horror that was to follow.

Then it came. When a demon is summoned by one skilled to do so, it appears. It appears angry, reeking of brimstone and restrained only by the strength of the circle used to contain its blastpoint fury. Thusly was this fart.

A truly trouser-splitting roar of nigh-epic proportion, it billowed and swam out of its foul portal, a war-horn sounding the assault of a citadel. The darkest magic performed by the blackest practitioners of necromancy laid its head low in awe and reverence to the simple brutality of this mundane but infernal thunder. A thunder of Brown Hell crashing in skies of apocalyptic dust, removing the very birds from the air in concussive might.

From the birthcries of Thunder, horrifyingly, comes the bastard child Lightning. This lightning struck the moment the sulphurous death knell of his colon wind, like Icarus of legend, flew too close to the sun. Catching fire from the lit candle nearby, the constant herald horn of ass air blew to blazing life, making perilous the already caustic atmosphere behind him. Taking this as his signal, Keystone grunted, enduring the bass vibrato of his rectum to drive his point home.

The posterior dragon's breath roared on, given oscillating motion by the light swaying of Keystone's muscular buttocks. Any who remained too close would surely feel the septic sting of this awe, this monster given life, this Arseflame that must be named and then NEVER spoken aloud. This art; terrible, terrible work of art from biological medium, the opposite of the grand miraculous beauty of childbirth but no less painful.

He stopped, the candle flame snuffed by the backdraft current dying wind.

Before anyone could react, Keystone turned about, pants held up with one hand, his other hand wrapped into a fist, index finger pointed at the arguing women.

"Ladies, that's all I've got to speak on the matter."

Keystone returned to his place at the bar, fixed his pants, and silently resumed his meal. Inwardly, he hoped that it was the end of this particular piece of drama; The gods knew none of them needed more drama that day.

< Message edited by Sigil -- 10/8/2015 17:14:28 >

AQW	Post #: 31

10/8/2015 19:47:57

Remaint
Member

No amount of near-misses by shrieking artillery shells, the disciplined bang of organised smoothbore or the bloody clash of cold steel could prepare the undead conquistador for the gaseous stream of might-incarnate. The mere sound had sent him throwing himself off his chair and striking the floor hard, away from the human--That’s not human!--release, the fire that had result from clever placement of candle had amply convinced the undead man to half-crawl-half-dash further away in some goofy semblance of locomotion. Clattering ungracefully to the floor, his glaive found its back-spike embedded into the tavern floor.

Woyadei found himself behind the bar counter, at the other corner of the tavern. Coupled with the so-very-surprising revelation that the disgusting commoner could barely tolerate him, the undead conquistador found himself centering all his disdain for his inconveniences toward the large man. Hand gripping the table’s edge in firmly, to the point of protruding bones and head baring teeth in anger, the undead conquistador glared at the filthy human with all the intensity having no eyes allowed him to. Insufferable, turd-flinging monkey, I should just stream lightning up your intestines and out of that useless mouth!

“Vollidiot, Arschloch! I have half a mind to flay the flesh off your bones, you waste-feeding, utter sack of filth!”

Without the undead’s notice, the immediate matter around him began to noticeably charge with static; the table he holds chars black from where he grips it. He did not intend on utilising his magical arsenal against the commoner, as it would be completely dishonourable.

< Message edited by Remaint -- 10/8/2015 20:58:52 >

AQW	Post #: 32

10/9/2015 1:24:55

Sigil
Member

He'd been insulted before. Many times, in fact; came with the territory. There are times to act with aggression against this - to prevent escalation of a situation, or to set an example, both came to mind. Neither of these reasons warranted it at the present. Quite the opposite, it would put the position back where it was just moments before.

Another bite of what he thought was beef went down, as the dead guy hurled his insult. Keystone didn't react, except to tear off a chunk of bread from his loaf. Out of everything it said, waste-feeding did catch his attention. He scooped a bit of stewed meat up with his bread, giving it a good, close look. Waste... sounded a little harsh. It wasn't that bad, whatever it was. Matter of fact, it was actually rather pleasant. Eh, no matter. He popped the large morsel into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, rising from his seat.

Deftly, he bent down and pulled Woyadei's polearm from the wood flooring, and set it on the nearest table. "Dropped your spear." he intoned through a mouthful of bread and meat.

Keystone returned to his meal and sat, staring at it again. He was almost certain now that it wasn't beef.

AQW	Post #: 33

10/9/2015 18:02:12

Krey
Member

Rather the closed-minded child, this one, even more extremely than Verna had first decided, to the point even of outright disdain for those not like her! Perhaps, though, this shouldn't have been such a surprise, considering her behavior thus far. Still, it was a shame to find one so closed-off... Though as much to Verna, it was an opportunity, and she couldn't help but grin at the prospect of toying with the self-absorbed noble. It truly was great sport.

Of course, she wasn't alone in that this time, as the archer took to her side and at the wink, she couldn't help but chuckle. Naturally, the pale girl did not take well to the bard's threats.

Verna was the type to antagonize, endlessly, to the point of reason and beyond, sometimes until she was physically attacked herself. This was something that she enjoyed doing often, and on numerous occasions she'd found herself run out of town. The difference between those times and this one, was the other people involved in the provocation. Other people added an unpredictable element, and while they often made things that much more fun, they could also drive a situation to danger much more quickly than she might on her own.

It was for this reason, coupled with the knowledge that her hand-to-hand combat abilities were generally a little less than sufficient to bar brawling, that she took a subtle, fluid step to the side, putting just a hair of extra distance between herself and the girl as she responded. Not for fear, certainly, but preparation for a brawl should one break out. She knew her best position in such a scuffle, and wasn't afraid to place herself into it.

In spite of all this, the grin on her features never faded, and the slight tensing of muscles in preparation to spring would have been unnoticeable to all but the most trained—particularly, those accustomed to dexterous combat as an alternative to brutish displays.

Of course, as she might have expected, the girl was all bark, and failed to see the irony in her own statements.

And then it happened.

She'd caught movement out of the corner of her eye. The shuffling of garments, the flicker of a candle—these were the clues of what was to come, but even she, trained in the art of trickery as she was, could not predict the mastery which was about to unfold.. As a practitioner of the chaotic, she could guess, to some extent, what was about to happen, but none could fathom the evil about to be unleashed.

She dove, just as the mighty cloud of flame reached forth, rolling and sliding under the table with all the grace of an acrobat fleeing the collapse of all that surrounds them, though of course there could be no escaping the scent, which was in itself indescribable.

She stood, a moment after the flames died out, waving a hand in front of her nose, her ever-present grin remaining though, perhaps, just a tiny bit strained at this.

And then she applauded. Slow claps, accompanied by a genuine chuckle, “Well played, sir,” she called from across the table she'd slid under, and began circling 'round to return to where she was. “Well played indeed.”

AQ	Post #: 34

10/9/2015 20:09:17

Afina
Weaver of Epic Yarns

Sana glanced over towards the woman out of the corner of her eye as she took a long pull from her drink. Keeping the glass to her lips a cold smirk came over her features as a thin brow rose. “You passed judgement on myself and the others and yet when it is passed back, you cannot handle it. You know no more of me than I do of you, perhaps you know less of me because my full colors have yet to be revealed but yours seem naked to the world and such a pity. When I first laid eyes on you I thought you could be someone worth getting to know. Why don’t you go slink back to your silken hole since you can’t seem to be able to take what you yourself dish out,” she said in a calm voice as she pulled the glass away from her lips and ran her free hands fingers delicately over the rim.

“As far as what way I swing, I’m an acrobat, I swing in all directions,” she chuckled as the glass was placed on the bar top, a single bead of liquor dripping from the side. “Like one of those fancy assortments of candies you can find in larger cities from confectioners. Hard centers, soft centers, I enjoy each of them in the box, though,” she said before stopping and pausing as she lowered her head and turned it slowly to actually face the woman, her hair slowly draping over one eye. “You probably have one of those coconut centers. The one people take a bite out of and then spit out to find something better.”

Sana was going to continue her verbal assault for she had some more choice words that were much less civilized than the ones she had already dished out but she was cut short by a butt. The sound began and Sana slowly turned in her seat with a perplexed and bemused look that was half of pure horror and half of adoration. Her brows furrowed but her lips curled into a Cheshire grin. Tilting her head to the side she watched and listened. Once the rear assault was completed her brows rose and she nodded slowly.

“Are you sure your name isn’t Arseblast?” she said coolly before she burst out laughing and leaned back against the bar holding her sides. “Now that is one way to change the subject. Tell me, what have you been eating these last weeks? From the power behind well your behind, it couldn’t have been anything good,” she said between wheezing laughs.

“Pour this man a drink!” she exclaimed to the barkeep as she smacked her hand against the wood top. “He’s earned it!”

“And you,” she said turning her attention to the very pale one. “Take it easy. The man was only diffusing a tense situation. Something that was very needed right then before it took a turn for the worse,” Sana quipped patting the chair next to her. “Come, come. Drinks are on the house, they owe me,” Sana said with a coy smile as she looked at the barkeep, who was already pouring a line of drinks.

Post #: 35

10/9/2015 21:35:59

Draycos777
Member

"Ha!" Arche waved her left hand in the air as if brushing away Sana's insults as she began to take off her leather vest so that her wings could push out without breaking anything.

"You still don't get it do you? You've pretty much ignored everything I just said, you repeat the same load of bull back again. You like a school bully picking on someone cause they're different than you. Just like you said I don't know you and you don't know me. Heh, so how can you know my colors at all? Please, you're nothing more than a supposed adult who is really just a child throwing insults at someone because of a difference in status."

Arche folded her arms and then her her wings around the front of her body like a mini cloak.

"I'm sure I don't need to say this, but I could care less whether someone who starts fights and insults peoples family without giving it a second thought sees me as someone that is worth getting to know."

She had planned on saying more, but a sudden noxious sound filled the tavern and stopped her. Turning her head in the direction of the sound, the corners of Arche's mouth stiffened in disgust. Before the deadly gas could make it to her, Arche opened her wings. Because of her age she couldn't use them for flight, however, there were other uses for them; one being to make small gusts of wind. Flapping her wings twice, she moved the wave of necrotoxins back in the direction from which they came.

Arche shook her head when she heard the two voices praising the man for the sudden action. "I'm not sure if I should be more disgusted by what just took place, or by the fact that you two are praising him about it."

Arche brought her attention back to Sana with a sly grin. "Heh, but he was diffusing a situation that you brought on. Now you're running away from it as though you had no hand in it? Coward, go drown in your booze. We're done. Unlike you, I actually have work to do here. You know? Making items that help the 'real people' and not those that waste their day away drinking when they could be doing something beneficial for themselves."

With that, Arche refolded her wings and walked over to the table where her vest and sack laid. Wrapping her tail around the top of the sack, she lifted it up and placed it upon the table. Opening up the top, Arche began rummaging inside, until she pulled out a book and a piece of thick purple hide, that seemed be molded into an incomplete miniature bag. Flipping through the pages she finally stopped at one that had a picture of a creature on it. Looking over to where the man in the trenchcoat was, she spoke out.

"You said you were willing to help me find the Grabbi right? Come here, I'll show you what it looks like."

Most of the back and forth between the bard was pushed to the back of Arche's mind as she deemed the woman nothing more than a schoolyard bully that was unable to accept anyone that was different than her. However, on question still burned within Arche's mind.

"The hell is a coconut!?"

< Message edited by Draycos777 -- 10/9/2015 22:44:37 >

AQ	Post #: 36

10/9/2015 22:29:46

Remaint
Member

“Take it easy. The man was only diffusing a tense situation. Something that was very needed right then before it took a turn for the worse”

Blinking, the undead conquistador took a glance around him. The only one who held any sort of aggressive stance was himself, and no good fortune comes by for being seen as an antagonist for long. So Woyadei relaxed his tension and stood calmly, only to notice he accidentally blackened more furniture with his ‘shocking’ aura. Wincing, the undead turned to find a literal outlet for his manifested disdain. Going to bloody damn well blow up if I don't. Spotting a window, he ran towards it and flung out his arm, two fingers directed skywards, hopefully above any rooftops; a great channel of lightning was loosed, illuminating the tavern and producing a soundly crack at its termination.

With any situation involving unfamiliar personnel, it was never wise to reveal much of one’s potential, he thought, and now in the first round of a card game, he had clumsily allowed his full hand to tumble flat on the table. Well, an esteemed Marschall once stated “Kein Plan überlebt die erste Feindberührung.” And in my case there was neither really Plan nor Feind, so far.

The undead molniromancer walked steadily to pick up his glaive and take position next to the winged woman--definitely not a cat demon, what is she? In the least I’ll know what a Grabbi is, what my target is. The unusual happenings within the last few hours had ignited a rather electric attitude, and he needed something to insulate his spark.

Now looking at the winged woman's book, the Grabbi was not a complete foreign concept to the undead; there had been similar giant masses of flesh flopping about in the Dominion of Mist. Fighting the blobs of meat had not been particularly dangerous, but it was occasionally a chore. The Dominion’s Grabbi, or Meatwalls, as they were termed there, were quite varied in weaponised composition, wielding acidic or inky blasts, strong and long tentacles, giant maws of crushing teeth, hides difficult to damage even by smaller gunnery and being able to utilising magic. Some of the more durable undead, like Ethna, make rather distinguishable feats by subduing them from within. No clue how, she lost shield, sword and dagger. Presently, Meatwalls are seldom killed, but rather studied by necromancers, obscuromancers, alchemists and the like.

Noting the particular strategies he will attempt, the conquistador looked toward Sana. "Thank you for the offer, but perhaps another time would be better; I'm rather volatile now, as you can tell." He then turned toward the winged woman.

“When will we depart?”

< Message edited by Remaint -- 10/10/2015 4:32:53 >

AQW	Post #: 37

10/10/2015 0:06:53

Draycos777
Member

As Arche showed the picture of the Grabbi to the trenchcoat man, she noticed him viewing her wings, then looking at the book.

“When will we depart?” He asked after a quick look.

Arche closed the book and placed it back within her sack.

"Preferably, as soon as possible."

Arche handed the incomplete hide bag over to the man to inspect. She voice kept it's new boldness but took a more business-like stance.

"My goal is to retrieve the body mostly intact. Grabbies are known to eat endlessly, but when killed many people have found a limitless amount of items within their bodies. What I want to know is how all of that can fit inside of their bodies and how I can transfer that in to a bag or sack form."

A smile appeared on Arche's face, as she thought of the possibilities that a bag like that could bring.

"Think of how much a burden this could relieve for people across the world?"

Arche then frowned as quickly as she had smiled.

"But if that does work the next problem would be available resources. It's rare for Grabbies to leave the 'No Man's Land' or other dark places where they thrive. Not many people are willing to fight them and I don't know if skinning a monster like it would be considered cruel."

Arche quickly snapped out of her self-pondering and placed the hide bag back into her sack after the man had lost interest in it.

"Well, those are questions for other time. Sorry to bore you with what-if of the future that doesn't have anything thing to do with you or the job. Also, forgive me if my earlier actions to you seemed rude. It takes awhile for me to get use to the smell of death."

Arche closed the top of her sack and used her tail to once again pick it up, making sure that she did not hit her new hunting partner with it. Getting up, Arche made a bow towards the man befitting of a noble, her wings slightly opening as if they were also bowing.

"Da' name is Nemes de Valher; Dragon-kin. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Picking up her vest, Arche straighten back up in one fluent movement from her bow.

"Do you have everything that you need from town already? Supplies? I don't mind waiting. If so, we'll meet up at the forest entrance of the town."

< Message edited by Draycos777 -- 10/10/2015 0:07:41 >

AQ	Post #: 38

10/10/2015 2:10:28

Remaint
Member

"Da' name is Nemes de Valher; Dragon-kin. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Eyebrows rose a bit as the undead molniromancer analysed the new information. Bottomless bags would certainly be of tremendous value to both civilian and military populace. He could hardly comprehend the amount of currency, steel and coal that could be saved if there was no need for the heavy trawler ships, supply wagons and bulky ammunition cases. On top of that, the ironclads of the Dominion could be designed with virtually unstrike-able ammunition storages, greatly enhancing durability and minimising losses of life to detonations. It would seem like his visit in the New World would hold more than the expected potential, if the hypothesis of an un-ending bag holds true. With such a thought in mind, the conquistador made it a priority to find out what this world had to offer.

Regarding the dragon-kin, Woyadei was pleasantly astonished. Dragon-kind had long since become extinct in his home archipelago, and it was quite the honour to witness one in the flesh. Dragon kind was so old back in the Dominion, those reanimated were completely skeletal in form; I had no idea they came in non-colossal and humane forms. Dragons predated the century-ish old Confederacy of Mist, and from the records, the last of the dragons fell to the military golems of ancient days. Relatively few undead who witnessed their existence remain, but those who do obviously held great experience and contributed much knowledge to the Confederacy.

“Very pleased to meet you, I am Woyadei of-” For a brief moment, the conquistador thought to withhold information pertaining to his association, as Shuischeier made not the slightest attempt to hide that the nation was a very willing militant, holding innumerable wars and mercenary service to its name. But this was the New World, and the undead needed to be honest if he wanted allies. It's not probable anyone here has heard of the archipelago anyway.

“Woyadei of Shuischeier, you likely know it, but I am undead. My molniromancy and glaivemanship is at your service. Also, your pondering of the Grabbi’s potential does not falter my interest; such knowledge holds vast value and I intend to study its potential as well.” Morseren and Karaser did wonders in the field of biological mimicry, it might just be possible to mass produce the designs of Grabbi regardless of rarity, and harvest its results ever more.

"Do you have everything that you need from town already? Supplies? I don't mind waiting. If so, we'll meet up at the forest entrance of the town."

"I've arrived here prepared, so we can leave immediately.”

< Message edited by Remaint -- 10/10/2015 4:35:56 >

AQW	Post #: 39

10/10/2015 13:15:05

Krey
Member

The bard offered drinks around for everyone, and Verna was all too happy to take her up on the offer. She crossed back to the bar, resting lightly against it as she surveyed the rest of the room. The noble girl, it seemed, couldn't simply let things go regardless of what happened. It was fairly impressive, actually, to be able to hold onto her anger in spite of the display which had just occurred. It truly was astounding to her, the mighty opinion of themselves which pervaded every noble circle she'd ever encountered.

She leaned over to Sana, her grin deep and mischievous, “Something about the nobility always gets into their heads, imparting unto them a particular type of insanity which I find lacking amidst more normal classes of folk. It's quite mind-boggling.” She grabbed a drink from the line the tender had been pouring, took a long swig of it, and set the glass down on the bar top lightly.

A glint of mischief crossed her eyes, sparkling in those violet pools like fireworks preparing to explode. She stepped away from the bar, glass raised high, and announced in what was, perhaps, the most formal feminine voice possible. “To the nobility!” She cried, “Deciding for us small folk what we should and shouldn't do, what tasks are and are not befitting us, and how much money we owe them for the wonderful jobs they do! 'Tis no greater pleasure than to be taxed for our labors and then taxed some more for our breath!”

She tossed her drink back, standing tall on the balls of her feet, each pressed together, and chuckled, “Well, for those of us who pay our taxes.” With that she bowed, returning to the bar and setting her glass down with a motion for a refill.

AQ	Post #: 40

10/10/2015 22:42:34

Sigil
Member

Keystone responded to Sana's invitation as cordially as his general lack of formality would allow, accepting the drink with a smile and nod. He fired it back without much in the way of ceremony, and thunked the glass back onto the bar.

"Many thanks there, Miss Rawn. Truth be told, I've been surviving off of merchant guard fare the last couple of weeks - boiled grain, turnips and whatnot. Snuck some of my own goods in, but..." he trailed off as he retrieved his beer, and returned to the company of the two (somewhat more) likeminded women. "...but that much roughage isn't good for a man."

He raised his glass to Verna's toast, be it a bit long and flowery a speech for his tastes. The man's personal experiences with nobility were largely negative; sometimes they'd place wagers on him, maybe give him a congratulatory slap on the back if he made them money. Occasionally, they played at being One Of The People; a part-time pursuit, much the same way a glassmaker or scribe would camp in the mountains for sport - it didn't make them a Ranger. For the most part, they just seemed to play by a different set of rules than the working class - and became very upset if this was ever pointed out.

After the hunting party left for the woods, Keystone refilled his glass and tried to spark up a conversation with Sana, "Those bags she was just on about? I didn't have the heart to tell her that we've already got 'em where I'm from. Holding Bags, or some such. Popular with the adventuring community, those."

He cleared his throat, and continued, "I don't know about you lot, but I've got reason to be here, I think. I was looking into missing caravans. merchant trains, y'know? Silver, cloth, foodstuffs, whathavya. Took a buggerall job as a watch sergeant, was two days out from home. Now it looks that I'm the one got disappeared. I have to think it's related. And if at all possible, I've got to get back home. It's where I keep all my stuff."

Keystone turned his attention to Verna, the only one in their tiny circle who did not indicate an other-realm origin thusfar, "So, and bear with, this next question may seem really sodding stupid, but..."

"Have you noticed anything strange lately?"

< Message edited by Sigil -- 10/10/2015 22:44:28 >

AQW	Post #: 41

10/11/2015 1:04:29

Draycos777
Member

As Arche got ready to leave, she here a cry, or more of a soft shout, though the tavern.

“To the nobility!”

Of course it was the clown trying to stir up more trouble.

“Deciding for us small folk what we should and shouldn't do, what tasks are and are not befitting us, and how much money we owe them for the wonderful jobs they do! 'Tis no greater pleasure than to be taxed for our labors and then taxed some more for our breath!”

Arche looked into the cup of tea she had left on the table and smiled. Picking it up she cheered as well and spoke, her voice beginning to regain it's monotone stance.

"And to the rabble-rousers. Who like to include themselves among the working class, but are still as much as a pain to them as they are to the higher-class. As they sow chaos and bar-fights in their wake for a past-time!"

Finishing what was left in her cup, Arche gently placed it back on top of the table. Walking out of the tavern, Arche made her way towards the town's front gate. Pulling out a local map from her sack and placed it on top of a tree stump just outside of the town's gate. Motioning with her left index finger where the town was on the map to Woyadei.

"-Right here by the bay, this is where the town is."

Moving her finder towards the southwest to a point that as roughly a good half-mile away from the town, Arche continued her run-down of the land.

"To the south and west of town is light forest, and where I am point is said to be where the Grabbi has been spotted consuming everything."

Arche gave Woyadei time to take an ample look a the map before re-rolling it and placing it back into her sack.

"If it is really there, we'll see the signs before we see it not doubt. Let's go."

With that Arche walked into the forest and towards the Grabbi target area.

By the time they had finished trekking through the forest, Arche had placed her vest back on as her wings and tail receded. She spent most of the trip in silence as she went over numbers an figures in her mind. The closer the two got to the Grabbi target area, the more frequent were large patch of missing dirt and missing trees were. Wildlife was all but non-existent in this area as well. Finally Arche reached a clearing. All of the trees in the area had been cleared out and well as a rather large area of grass and dirt about the size of fifteen feet around. At the far end of the clearing was a large purple mass.

"-The Grabbi."

The creature was in the process of consuming a fell'd tree while it's tentacles reached out to grab ahold of anything else it could eat. One wrapped around a misfortunate small animal, which denounced where the rest of the wildlife likely went. Arche pulled Ethereal Flame from off her back and placed her sack onto the ground. Black flames licked the edge of the scythe's blade as Arche pour her magic into it.

"If need be, I can confront it up close, but a I'd much prefer to fight using my magic. It's what I specialize in after all. If there's no problems with this, ready to attack? We seem to have the element of surprise."

AQ	Post #: 42

10/11/2015 1:38:53

Remaint
Member

"If need be, I can confront it up close, but a I'd much prefer to fight using my magic. It's what I specialize in after all. If there's no problems with this, ready to attack? We seem to have the element of surprise."

“We think alike, then. Fighting the thing up front would leave a mess in short order and its corpse would be rended to unrecognisable value, courtesy to our choice of melee armament. I’ll take its attention, you’ll find its rear; the beast will surely fall soon when dealing with threats of two directions.”

Charging as a fighting conquistador in burning raid, the molniromancer bellowed a hearty “Spiess voran! In den Kampf!” as he launched forth a burst of lightning beholding terrible power. He dashed forwards and angled, ever throwing bolts at intervals and forcing the Grabbi’s full attention. The undead intended to traverse in a manner as to always have himself and Arche in opposing directions, leaving the beast’s rear continually facing one of the two hunters. He only hoped the Grabbi couldn’t fight as well as the Fleshwalls in his home archipelago, whom were known to fight in random or even all directions as effectively as one, due to homogenous bodily structure.

Though currently the undead conquistador wielded energy to significant effect, Woyadei was not primarily a mage. He did always have some sort of affinity for the element of lightning at least toward the beginning of his unlife, but it was not until he encountered musketeers in an assault did the conquistador strive to exercise his natural ability in an effort to counter the range of existing gunnery. For years he practised throwing lightning, gaining remarkable accuracy, and surpassing 35 metres, 70 metres, 110 metres and to a present 143 metres; but it was a futile effort upon first glance: effective musketry range exceeded 240 metres in short order yet Woyadei was already reaching his perceived limit.

Things might have been hopeless upon land that’s gradual in terrain and without too many obstacles, but of course, the Dominion of Mist, or Archipelago of Fog, could not be described as terrain-gradual or obstacle-free at all. Unusually high amounts of fjords, rivers and still bodies of water ran throughout all the islands. Drastic changes in elevation were to be expected, with the worst being in the East, towards Morseren and Shuischeier where outright spikes and black gorges neighbored one-another. Massive city blocks spanned major regions of Karaser and Harrowshreik, with enormous and dense forests populating the four other territories. There did exist many plains and expanses, but where they were, fog was ever-looming, never to be cleared. In fact, fog was common everywhere else, leading to great treachery when navigating the underworld that is the Dominion. Such geography and climate was the saving grace for Woyadei, along with like mystical casters; sometimes maximum range wasn’t entirely an advantage.

< Message edited by Remaint -- 10/11/2015 16:38:45 >

AQW	Post #: 43

10/11/2015 11:36:50

Draycos777
Member

As the beast charged after Woyadei, Arche sent out volleys of dark flames at the Grabbi. Instead of using time consuming spells, Arche believe it would be better to use weak, but almost instant attacks to wear down the creature between the two of them. It was an effective method. As the Grabbi was caught trying to fend off one, the other member of the team struck at it from it's undefended angle.

Suddenly the Grabbi's movements changed and Arche rolled on the ground to avoid being hit by a blast of fire of it's own. It then focused on Woyadei, it's many tentacles thrashing about, pounding the ground were they land. Though this would make the fight harder, this was also a good thing. It meant the the creature was using all of it's strength for a last-ditch end for the fight; they had nearly won. The Grabbi charged, hoping to crush the energy thrower underneath it's weight.

Gathering magic, Arche thrush her scythe forward and casted a different spell.

"-Shadow Chains."

The shadows of the nearby forest, lumped together under the Grabbi and busted forth as black chains attempting to bind the creature. It was stunned for a few seconds because it's charge was suddenly stopped, but it managed to break free due to it's weight. If the two were to defeat the monster, now was the best opportunity.

AQ	Post #: 44

10/11/2015 15:39:29

Remaint
Member

The undead molniromancer’s strategy was occurring just as he hoped; the Grabbi devoted much attention to the undead and the dragon-kin took the opportunity to erode the creature’s strength utilising dark-fire. Woyadei was beginning to wonder if the creature wielded magic until a mass of flame was sent flying from it, towards the direction of Arche while a perilous bulk of tentacles shot into his directions.

The conquistador sharply turned heel, nearly careening himself into a fall; a large a crowd of tentacles had battered where he had just left and he was graced still with no time as more tentacles loomed higher. The undead dashed forth in another direction with erratic movements akin to electricity itself that sent him skidding and drifting. At this point, Woyadei held not even enough time to launch his instantly-cast spells, unless he chose to brandish his glaive, which for the sake of success, he didn’t.

"-Shadow Chains."

The conquistador made for another wild pivot that would send him flying, for a great throng of shadows had piled under the Grabbi--But the Grabbi was not the caster and it was soon bound tight by constructs of shadow. An opportunity must be seized. Eyes narrowed, Woyadei smoothly took cutting position, completely out of range to the beast and let fall his glaive, slashing thrice circularly and ferociously.

-Shock Pillar!

Brief seconds spansed and horrendous arcs of lightning converged above the molniromancer’s head before descending with terrifying velocity toward the Grabbi, smashing it three times in quick succession. Woyadei wasted no time in observing his results as he rushed forth in another haphazard direction just as the beast burst its temporary prison. The molniromancer held optimism that the severely hampered creature would keel over in short timing, but he would not risk being caught off guard.

< Message edited by Remaint -- 10/11/2015 16:39:37 >

AQW	Post #: 45

10/11/2015 19:41:31

Draycos777
Member

Woyadei's cascade of lightning struck the Grabbi, stunning the creature as energy coursed through it. Not wasting any time, Arche cast a blast of darkness energy at the creature's right side. Falling over, the Grabbi make a few wailing sounds before the movements of it's tentacle became less and less frequent and then finally stopped.

Arche walked over the the creature, wary of it's tentacles, and timidly poked it's face with Ethereal Flame. After she was sure that the Grabbi wasn't going to get back up, Arche placed Ethereal Flame on the ground, it's blade dug into the dirt so that it could support itself, and rolled up her sleeves.

"-Let's see if this works." She said to no one in general, as she used her right hand to keep the monster's mouth open and reached inside with her left arm.

A look of displeasure and disgust appeared slightly on Arche's face as a squishing sound could be heard as she move her hand around. Suddenly, Arche's eyes opened wide.

"-Th-this is...no way!"

Quickly she placed her other arm inside the creature's mouth and with a bit of force, pulled out an object that was ovular in shape and looked much like a large egg. It was light brown, with a good amount of it covered in a yellowish goo and was nearly the size of Arche's forearms. She immediately handed it to Woyadei, and reached back inside to pull out another egg-shaped object. This one however, was purple in color, much like the Grabbi itself. Arche looked at both of the eggs for a few seconds.

"-How odd, does this mean that eat their young until they are ready to hatch? If that's the case, then they must be able to know when to spit them back out. Then there should be a way to retrieve anything that they have eaten. Unless there is a time limit on things that have been consumed by them. It is also interesting that the color of their eggs are different. Why is that?"

Arche pondered this for a moment, before taking out a towel she had in her sack and used it to wipe off the goo from her arms and the eggs. Leaving the towel on the tree that the Grabbi was eating before the confrontation, Arche carefully placed the purple egg inside of her sack, which now had no more room for anything else, and tied the top as firmly as she could without harming the egg. Strapping both Ethereal Flame and her sack back onto her back, Arche grabbed the creature's tail.

"-We should head back to town. We can do all the pondering we want back there. I still need to pay you for your help and there I can study the monster without having to worry about bottom-feeders and scavengers trying to steal it from me."

With a small grunt, Arche pulled at the tail and began to drag the beast behind her and back to town. A feat only possible because of her dragon-kin half.

"-Besides, getting back to town before nightfall is probably for the best."

AQ	Post #: 46

10/11/2015 22:18:28

Remaint
Member

Shortly after Arche began lugging the Grabbi, a noise, like thrashing within flesh, sounded from a short distance and Woyadei snapped his attention toward it, glaive at the ready. What horrific surprise lie in wait this time? He needed not to wonder long as a...giant millipede crawled from the interior of the Grabbi. The undead molniromancer blinked as he took in the sight, the millipede was pony length, about a metre in height and a white-black war saddle atop of it--Shuischeieren design. He allowed himself a hopeful smile as the creature crept towards him in the way only millipedes could do, its many stubby legs working about in a wave-like motion. Woyadei knelt just as it approached and rubbed it between its antennae, really more of a symbolic gesture than anything, as the molniromancer wasn’t sure if it was undead, and even then, the natural arthropodic armour plates would prevent any sensation from passing. Still wave-like, the millipede shook its round body in acknowledgement of its assigned comrade.

Knowing the dragon-kin did not require his assistance, Woyadei still laid a hand on one of the many tentacles and pulled. His millipede crept to the rear of the beast and pushed. It was another non-practical gesture, but there wasn’t a point in having hands and manpower free when they were all traveling the same speed.

“There were creatures similar to this from where I come from, but they reproduced asexually. The question of the coloured eggs does beg to be answered. I wonder if its diet affected the offspring.”

The undead conquistador scanned their surroundings as they moved. It was simply an army precaution that became habit.

“Your mastery over obscuromancy and natural strength is admirable. Might I ask for a description of your origins?”

< Message edited by Remaint -- 10/11/2015 22:48:42 >

AQW	Post #: 47

10/11/2015 23:09:51

Apocalypse
Member

A lightning bolt was not a good omen.

A lightning bolt illuminating a tavern was an omen to avoid the tavern.

A lightning bolt emitted from the tavern was a clear sign to anyone in this realm or the next to pass over this tavern and skip town as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

However, that would require Nilburke to spend another precious day without a drink in his hand and a hot meal in his belly, so into the gods-forsaken tavern it was.

The goblin, hunched over from his burlap sack, had almost made it to the door when a man without eyes and a woman clad in black made their exit. Nilburke stepped aside in case they came his way, but the two departed in a different direction with a sense of purpose in their steps. A young necromancer and her lackey, eh?, the alchemist thought as he watched them go. Judging from his skin and attire, this particular undead may have been a draugr or wight of some kind. A spirit with a bit more personality to play the part of (inferior) companion rather than unknowing servant. Nilburke scratched his chin. The woman may have created the wight because she was young and had not succumbed to the typical immorality of other necromancers. Or the lackey had been set up by her master or guardian to keep any eye on her in case she tried to do something stupid. Nilburke shook his head. A necromancer and an undead leaving a tavern was a well-enough omen to counter the lightning bolt.

Nilburke slipped through the door to see a group of humans at the counter with a round of drinks. Perfect. The good news was that a trio of softies imbibing would keep some of the barkeep's scrutiny off of the goblin. The bad news was the trio of softies imbibing would require drinks to keep imbibing, thus making it difficult for the goblin to secure his own.

The alchemist scuttled his way across the floor until he was up next to the softies. He dropped his burlap sack onto the floor with a clatter before jumping onto a stool with the grace of someone who has performed the action a multitude of times. Even with the stool's height, his head was the only part of him to exceed the top of the counter. Nilburke was in close proximity with the barkeep and his happy clients, and his green mug would stand out to draw more attention. Still, neither of those things would compare to what he was about to do...

A hand darted into his tunic and slammed something onto the table. Well, perhaps not slammed, per say, but there was a definite clatter as the object between his fingers made contact with the wood of the counter. Nilburke withdrew his hand to reveal a shiny red gemstone the size of his thumbnail. The barkeep caught sight of it and froze, his eyes darting from ruby to goblin. Nilburke gestured to the stone. "A hot meal and whatever they're having," he said as he jerked his head to the softies. It was not because he wanted what they were having, but it was easier to order that than to remember the names of the human drinks. The barkeep swept the gemstone up in one motion and placed a tankard in front of him in another. As the barkeep escaped to the back to fetch the food, Nilburke stood up onto his stool and called out, "And keep the drinks coming!"

The goblin plopped back down and leaned over to pull a bottle from his sack. While the barkeep was out of view, he poured some of the contents into his tankard. Nilburke liked to have a good time, but he did not need the constant trips to the treeline to relieve himself during the night. There was a chance the barkeep would not have minded his antics - money had that sort of power over softies - but his being a goblin did not put him in good standing. Best to be crafty for now; it's what goblins did. He slipped the bottle back into its place.

"I'm warning you *gulp*," said Nilburke to the softies in-between large quaffs of his drink. "The last softies *gulp* who had *gulp* too much and tried *gulp* 'goblin-tossing' *gulp* wound up with *gulp* a mouthful *gulp* of missing teeth!" Nilburke slammed down the tankard and let loose a might belch. "Hwooo." He nodded to himself. "That wasn't half-bad."

Post #: 48

10/11/2015 23:52:08

Draycos777
Member

Arche stopped dragging the beast when she heard an odd sound coming from inside the Grabbi. Reaching for her weapon, Arche waited to see what would come out.

"I had overlooked the fact that it could have eating something just a dangerous as itself."

When a pony-sized millipede waddled out, Arche blinked. It wasn't the sight that she was prepared for, to say the least. Neither was the sight of Woyadei, seemly befriending the giant insect. Seeing as the supposed threat was over, Arche began to drag the Grabbi towards town again, though wary of anything else that might try to escape. The burden, however, was much lighter this time as both Woyadei and his new pet helped in moving the creature. Breaking the silence of their work, Woyadei gave Arche a interesting piece of information.

“There were creatures similar to this from where I come from, but they reproduced asexually. The question of the coloured eggs does beg to be answered. I wonder if its diet affected the offspring."

He scanned the surrounding area before speaking once more.

“Your mastery over obscuromancy and natural strength is admirable. Might I ask for a description of your origins?”

Arche shook her head as she pulled the monster, and reached her voice a bit so that Woyadei could hear her as her back was facing him.

"-I still have a ways to go, but thank you. And I don't mind you asking."

Arche paused before continuing.

"-As I said before we left, I'm dragon-kin. Well, half." Arche to the sky to check the position of the Sun; "My mother is human and was a trader who traveled from town to town to make a living before she met my father. My father is fully dragon-kin and because of this he can not hide his dragonic features. Our dragon element is shadow which is why I have such a strong talent with darkness magic. However, I want to become even stronger so I can protect the people I care about."

Arche thought of the two towns within her family's land. There were 5 birthdays within this month and 2 new one arriving. The things that Arche tried to constantly make were meant to help improve their lives. Scented candles that drove away bitting insects, helping in the research of wheat that can be grown in the mountains, magic message stones and the like. Some of these items worked some of them didn't.

"-Well I gave you the basic run-down of our family's backstory during whatever that was in the tavern. What about you... -or is that something you'd rather not say?"

She wasn't sure if bring up an undead's past was alright to ask. After all the undead were, well dead, and many of them had rather painful pasts.

AQ	Post #: 49

10/12/2015 1:01:40

Remaint
Member

"My mother is human and was a trader who traveled from town to town to make a living before she met my father. My father is fully dragon-kin and because of this he can not hide his dragonic features. Our dragon element is shadow which is why I have such a strong talent with darkness magic. However, I want to become even stronger so I can protect the people I care about."

Definitely astounding was the fact that dragon-kind was even remotely able to mate with human-kind. The undead was curious if the process hurt, given the roughness of reptiles. Dragons being elementaly-charged was noteworthy, as the Confederacy’s records tend not to describe such a relation. Lastly and still notably was the goal of Arche Nemes de Valher; strength to guard was certainly a noble goal for the noble hunter, or inventor at this point.

"-Well I gave you the basic run-down of our family's backstory during whatever that was in the tavern. What about you... -or is that something you'd rather not say?"

“Honesty should be returned with honesty. For myself...I come from from a dark place which could quite easily be mistaken for the underworld; the Dominion of Mist, which is a large chain of islands shrouded in fog. I work for an army from Shuischeier, a territory with plenty of watery geography and ice. I won’t say I’m ashamed or proud to admit it, but my culture is centralised on the concept of a military-industrial complex. Everything revolves around efficient technology, especially defensive and harmful ones. So naturally, I’ve done many bloody deeds as a soldier, for a long time.”

The conquistador told his tale without too much hesitation, but he wondered if that was a particularly foolish thing to do, as he was basically confessing to participating in mass slaughter. Generally, undead did what they were assigned to do without much emotion, and Woyadei was no exception.

“I like to think the conflict the undead organised under the Confederacy of Mist, an alliance of the six major territories in the archipelago, would lead to others becoming stronger from it, but I suppose that’s no excuse for warmongering. On the other hand, many nations outside the Dominion hire us, and much warring lead to great technological progress.”

Woyadei was sure those under the rule of Arche’s family would benefit from the Confederacy’s accumulated knowledge regarding mechanisms and practical theories. It might be possible to secure trade between the region of the de Valhers and the Dominion, if someone would figure how to harness the fog-transportation. Perhaps my journey here was a test-run?

“If you hold morbid curiosity; I died in an exploding ship a long time ago. When I resurrected in Morseren, one of the major territories, I really did think I was in the afterlife. The colours pitch-black, eerie-green and ghostly-white were very prominent. Maybe I am, as I never found any records relating to my demise...I worked as an assistant to many mages and scientists for awhile prior to being drafted by the Confederacy. There was lots of disposing rotten flesh and dissections. Lots of corpse dragging.” He glance toward the Grabbi.

The conquistador looked toward the horizon and shifted to a different holding position for his glaive. I’ll throw in a shot at humour in there. Why not after all that doom n’ gloom.

“So, that’s my evil past and present, am I threatening enough to be killed yet?” Woyadei grinned.

< Message edited by Remaint -- 10/12/2015 16:03:47 >

AQW	Post #: 50

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