Fantasy The End Of Vahlana (IC)

The sun was up and lingering over the dark majestic green canopy. The once quiet market place began to buzz with all sorts of people as shops began to open. It was a pleasant city for the most part. Tensions were always high in Vahlana, it was something that you just adapted to over time. This was the place of opportunity, a place where one could easily start anew. The world was slowly becoming more dangerous which led to a sudden growth in Vahlana.

Viscount Belmont Edwards Rotheschilde Von Rothenberg, Second member of the Vahlana High Council:

His footsteps echoed down the long corridor that made every prisoner shutter. It was his duty to keep Vahlana safe and functioning at its best. He took his job very seriously and no one would be free of punishment that deserved it. There were moments when the necromancy elf couldn't help but wear a cruel smile as he saw the prisoners move back in their cells as he past by them.

The echo finally stopped and blue eyes stared at the prisoner he sought. He watched as he and a couple others in the cell moved to the very back of the cell.

"After all I've done for you, this is how I'm repaid?" Belmont asked disappointment clear in his voice.

"You've given us-" the man began to speak before suddenly yelling in pain. He looked down at his left forearm where a rune symbol etched its way into his skin.

The elf opened the cell door and walked in moving close to the man now crippling before him as he began to scream in pain. "I can't afford to kill you, but think about what you've done. You selfish mongrel"

The man fell to the floor holding his arm where the rune symbol for pain completed on his forearm. Only one other in the cell was brave enough to approach him as she knelt down beside the crippled form.

"oh.. no, you don't." Belmont said reaching down grabbing her brunette locks pulling her back away ignoring her cries. "He dies alone." He said walking out of the cell and dragged her out with him.

"You don't deserve to be part of the high council, you betray what you stand for. You evil-" The girl was suddenly shut up with a heavy slam of her body going into the wall while the cell door closed and locked.

Belmont looked at her and noticed the fear in her eyes but also the anger and bravery that was there. This concerned him greatly and he wondered how many others held the same spirit as the two he just encountered. He called a guard over and threw her over to him "She possess a great deal of energy." was all he had to do and walked away ignoring her cries as the guard dragged her away.

With that the elf left to go outside and enjoy the beautiful morning and the small buzzing in the marketplace. After all he wanted to keep appearances up, so that the people would know that the council members were in fact reachable and actually concerned for the citizens. A smile plastered his face as he walked tall and straight greeting all he passed. While he walked towards the herbal shop as he often did to check on the only known alchemist in Vahlana.

Within the marketplace were various noises both soft and loud. Among some of the loudest, however, was Kilgrin's laugh. It was extremely obnoxious and hearty, despite how some might argue it's ability to be contagious. The older dwarf was in his tent, that big hammer of his smashing along a sword which he held against an anvil. Two humans had been sitting underneath his tent and were shooting the shit. Old friends of his, the human had commissioned a piece of his work. For Kilgrin, there was only one thing in the entire world better than gold and that was Mead. So, when these men came to him for the first time years ago and paid him for his services? It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

After clanging his hammer against the blade of the sword for one last time, Kilgrin placed his hammer onto the anvil alongside it. He picked up the sword, checking it for any imperfections. Once he had determined that his work was finished to the best of his ability, Kilgrin handed over the sword in exchange for more gold. Once the small pouch was placed into his back pocket, those hairy stubby digits found themselves wrapped around the handle of a glass filled with fermented honey and water. The alcoholic concoction was what kept him running on an hourly basis, after all. Placing the edge to his lips, he drank the entire glass in one gulp before his hands found the gigantic barrel containing more. He dipped his glass in to get another glass.

"So, what brings ye? Quite a day to be out 'n 'bout, aye?"

Kilgrin readjusted the top part of his armor. His chainmail went up over his head like a hood. That long hair of his could not be seen at all, but that long white beard could. And whatever the hell the shit was on his face. The bumps. No one really questioned it, though it wasn't like Kilgrin was self-conscious. He did not remotely give a shit. "If it were up to me and I was still in me yout', i'd be out t'ere scavengin' about, y'hear me? Take 'vantage, I never t'ought it'd be me stuck workin' in me old age."

The dwarf didn't even need to work. He had riches upon riches, so much so that his children had enough to live. Not only was it passed down from his family name, but just based on his adventures within itself. Kilgrin did not spend a piece of gold easily; the stubborn man was very cautious with his money and was constantly trying to get things for free. He was a snake, a prodder, a sneak and a thief first and foremost. Aside from loyalty to some, not many people were safe. Only the people, beings, creatures that he found some sort of respect for - be it business, struggle, life or just time.

It had been quite some time since Kilgrin had visited home to see his numerous children. As the oldest in the clan, it was mostly Kilgrin's responsibility to uphold operations as an elder; so, speak with other old men and sit around waiting to die. That wasn't Kilgrin's way of life; even when his bones were brittle and barely worked, Kilgrin expected to be moving around with hobbles or limps. Such thoughts never plagued his mind. Even if he was capable of but one more, the lust for adventure and riches would still not subside.

Aurora currently sat in a tree, her silver bow pulled and aimed up at the sky. "ok Knight. I'm ready!" She called down to her companion. She could hear the rustling of the leaves on the ground as Knight ran ahead deeper into the forest. A few seconds after he was out of what would have been her line of sight, there was a loud howl. All of the sudden a flock of birds flew up into the sky about 50 yards away from her position. Aurora took in a deep breath and the world began to slow down around her. The noise from the forest disappeared as she stead her bow. Her eyes followed on one bird in the middle who was bigger than the rest before releasing the arrow.

Her mouth twisted into a smirk as her arrow hit its mark, the bird falling from the air. Aurora always enjoyed hunting birds. It tested her ability as an archer for shooting a flying creature was difficult. Aurora sat down on the branch and waited till Knight came back with the bird. She always brought him with her to hunt. Usually it was because he protected her but he was also useful in a situation like this.

When Knight returned Aurora stood up. She reached behind her back and latched her bow onto her quiver before climbing back down the tree. When she was ten feet from the ground she jumped off, landing firmly on her feet. Knight walked up to her and gently dropped the bird into her open hand. "Good boy." She said before patting his large head with her free hand. Since she only stood at about 5'5" she was barely two feet taller than his massive frame, which meant she didn't have to bend over to pet him. "Let's go and see what we can make with this." Knight barked happily and followed after her.

Minerva scowled at the sun's early light, shielding her tired eyes from the rays that beamed through the overhead canopy. She was definitely not a morning person. In fact she barely felt like a person on this particular day. With unkempt hair and baggy eyes, the groggy woman slowly ascended the spiraling stairway that lead to the tree-side tavern. She always began her day with a reinvigorating glass of ale; otherwise she'd be in a sour mood without it. Pausing outside the tavern doors, Minerva surveyed the active marketplace below. She'd probably head down there after getting a drink. Such places always had juicy information. Grabbing a bite of food and replacing her dull blades wouldn't hurt either.

"Morning Mina." The bartenders gruff words welcomed her as she entered.

Minerva grunted her hello. As usual, she was the first customer of the day. She strode to the bar, searching her pockets for coins as she did so. Four silver coins and a chicken bone were dumped on the counter.

"Gimme whatever this'll buy" She said sweetly.

The bartender sighed and began filling a glass with his cheapest brew. He placed the drink before her and snatched up the coins before venturing into the backroom, grumbling his grievances as he did so. Minerva smiled and sipped her ale. It tasted cheap and bitter, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. What started as dainty sipping transformed into full-on chugging, and before she knew it her glass was empty. She slammed the glass on the table and burped with satisfaction. Now wide awake and alert, she was prepared to begin her day.

Leaving the tavern, Minerva descended the spiraling stairway and crossed a wooden bridge that lead to the marketplace. Her hair was still a mess, so she straightened it to the best of her ability before joining the growing crowds. She had only been in Vahlana for a week or so, and this was her second visit to the marketplace itself. Fortunately she knew the general location of the shops. She pushed her way through the crowd, shoving aside anyone who made the mistake of blocking her path. Soon enough she reached her destination, a tent where the booming laugh of a dwarf resonated.

She pulled back the tent's flaps and stuck her head in, briefly gazing at the three occupants inside before speaking. "Ya got room for one more?"

Faylan's haul of the last few days had been good.
She had, more often than not, found herself in Vahlana's marketplace at the end of a hunt. She had been out for four days, this time, and the last day of the hunt had been bizarre.

She had shot a wolf - or, a dire wolf, she was not sure - for its pelt. She ate wolf meat, herself, though she knew.. most people did not.

She had came into the town, a trail of seven puppies who she had fashioned collars out of bear leather, twine making leashes for her new puppy pack. She was bogged down with game - had shot deer, rabbits, and finally a wolf - and felt a pang of guilt as she carried the puppies' mother's corpse.
Well, we all have to live, don't we.

It had upset her greatly when she found the dead wolf's litter. She shouldn't have had pups, this late in the season, but for one reason or another she had given birth to a litter of eight.

Faylan had already picked the dog she would be keeping. A small female puppy, the runt of the litter, with a twisted paw.
That dog - Fawn - was nestled in her jacket. Asleep.
The half-elven woman had worked all morning, feeding the dogs cooked venison once her fire was set up, filling the square with the smell of roasting and salted meat. She cooked the oldest - the meat from the start of her hunt - and set up the newest meat, raw, on her table.

She took the bones out of the deer carcass, putting some (with meat) aside for her puppy, and giving the other dogs bone to chew on. Gods, this always happens to me.

By the time our story starts, Faylan's skins had started to dry, and she began to tan both the wolf's and deer's pelts. She began to call out, offering dried meat, as well as small skins and fresh meats.
"Fresh hunt, darlings." She called out into the square, idly petting the dog in her jacket.

She thought she'd keep the wolf's pelt, all things considered.

Desert Rose

It would not be long now. That promised land would come soon enough, it would appear on the horizon just as he had been told it would. A glorious construction of security, serenity and safety for all to enjoy. That was the rumour anyway.

Kypher came from a faraway land of violence, tyranny and constant conflict, so he felt rather entitled to a little apprehension about the whole journey to somewhere he had only heard legends about. Still, anything had to be better than where he had come from and that was all that mattered. There was no turning back now, no home to return to. He would have to make a new home here, or return to the ashes of his old one.

Walking down the trail, Kypher was beginning to think that these lands were too safe for a half-orc half-elf to enjoy themselves until something happened. A rustle, near-imperceptible but Kypher caught it. Off to the side, someone was hiding in the bush.

"Ah, an ambush. Should be fun." Kypher drew his sword and readied himself, knees bent and eyes scanning ahead. And then it happened, a glint of sunlight off a blade giving it away as a dark figure flew out from the side with a dagger aimed directly at his heart. They were fast, but Kypher was faster. In an instant, he leaned back slightly so that the small knife barely missed him. Time seemed to slow. There was a look of confusion, understanding and then intense fear on the woman's half-masked face as the confident grin bared fanged teeth at her.

"Bad luck, love. You were too weak." His blade suddenly slashed upwards swiftly as Kypher countered, cleanly severing the woman's surprised head from her body. There were a couple of gasps from the side of the trail as the unexpected audience witnessed the improbable, the woman's body sliding to an abrupt stop at the half-orc's feet. One even stepped forth and yelled out, "W-who do you think you are? You bastard!"

Kypher smiled slyly at the man, flicking his blade to the side to remove the blood that had covered it, "Precisely that. Come, I'll show you exactly what this bastard can do." There were yells of anger and rage as four individuals rushed out from cover, various weapons brandished. Kypher waited for them, he enjoyed the thrill of battle and didn't want it to end too quickly, despite himself. Of course, this was merely the hot orcish blood pumping through his veins talking, perhaps a bit of his father's influence too, but there was something thrilling about spilling the blood of his enemies. He knew it was wrong, but still, the feeling remained.

The one that had spoken came first and quick, a long blade not too dissimilar to his own slashing down at his head. Dodging to the side, Kypher launched a swift kick at the man, launching him back with a resound crack into a nearby tree. The next came with a chained mace, which Kypher had to jump over in order to avoid the low swing that was sent his way. As he was midair, two arrows were loosed at him, attempting to catch him off guard as he was still manoeuvring.

"Hah! I see this land has smarts at the very least!" Kypher spun in the air and his blade deflected the arrows away. He landed spryly, ducked under another mace attack and sharply jabbed the tip of his blade through the man's throat. There was a pause as the same look of confusion crossed the bandit's face, before a more blank stare came about as he died. Removing the blade, Kypher once again flicked the blood from it and turned to gaze at the archer, "I wonder if this land has skill as well?"

The bowman panicked, firing three more shaky shot off before Kypher cut him down with a slash across the chest, dispatching the man easily. With that done, there remained only two more. The swordsman from before and a large butch woman with a heavy spear. She looked like the leader. Kypher raised a hand and pointed a finger at her, almost as if marking the kill ahead of time. Growling, she charged like a juggernaut and thrusted her spear forth at his head. Feeling completely in control, Kypher sidestepped the blow and clanged his sword against his opponent's weapon, sending the tip up into the air.

Thrown off guard as her weapon was now pointing at the sky as if it were trying to stab the heavens, an obvious opening was left for Kypher to exploit. He went for it, his blade shifting forth to take the bandit's life when-

"NOOOOO!!!" The previous swordsman jumped forward and got in the way, blocking the sword strike and countering with his a strike of his own. Kypher raised a surprised eyebrow of his own and leaped back to get clear. As he landed firmly on his feet, he glanced down to see a shallow cut on his right arm.

"One..." Kypher's grin grew more pronounced, his glare more voracious as he got low and jumped horizontally forward at the two. Having had barely any time to prepare, the swordsman threw up a desperate block again as he tried to guess where the next strike would come from. However, Kypher stopped just short of the man, planted a hand on the ground and kicked the swordsman's feet out from under him in one quick, fluid movement. The shock on the man's face was enough for Kypher. But a moment later, the man laid on the ground, his blood leaking out as gasped for breath. He had been impaled into the earth by Kypher's blade, "Ro... Rosalyn..."

Tears formed in the spearwoman's eyes as she let loose a roar of pain and sorrow, charging forward again at Kypher. An almost sympathetic grimace appeared on Kypher's face as he stepped back, having had to let go of his sword to avoid the swipe of her spear. The assault did not let up as a series of jabs and slashes came from the spear-user as she poured all her experience, energy and emotions into a final onslaught. Kypher sustained yet another cut, this time on his left shoulder, but otherwise he kept up with the tempo and rhythm of the fight, "Two."

Soon, she began to tire, and Kypher moved in to end things. Her spear faltered and dipped too low, so Kypher raised a leg and stepped on its blade, firmly planting it into the ground. Without allowing for any time for his enemy to react, Kypher ran up the shaft of the weapon and delivered a powerful kick directly into the spear bandit's face, launching her backwards. Pulling the spear free from the ground, Kypher nonchalantly walked over to the miserable form of a broken woman as she cried for her fallen comrades. Times had been tough for them and preying on passing travellers for what little money they owned had been the only option left.

"An admirable fight. Your tale will not be forgotten." The woman merely snarled at him and spat on the ground. With a shrug, Kypher mercilessly stabbed the blade into the bandit's chest, piercing her heart and killing her instantly. Kypher closed his eyes and tilted his head back, taking a deep, satisfied breath of blood-saturated air. This had been what he was missing, the thrill, the danger of a good battle.

He walked back over to where he had left his sword and saw the bandit who had first yelled at him still staring up at him in a mix of awe, fear and disbelief, "Just... W-what are you?" Kypher grinned at the swordsman, who still laid in the path, impaled.

"You said it yourself, I'm just a bastard." Kypher pulled his blade free from the man's body, blood pouring from the now open wound, "A bastard of the worst warlord to ever grace this scorched earth. Call it bad luck on both our parts, I suppose." Kypher looked back and saw that the man had already died. It didn't matter, Kypher didn't need for him to hear him anyway. The man had experienced Kypher's past firsthand, and that was enough.

Flicking the blood from his blade once more and returning it to the sheath on his back, Kypher set out of the trail once more, continuing his journey to Vahlana.

One year of travel. One year of loathsome travel with nothing but a sack of bones for company. One year of blistered feat and cracked hands, dirt stained cheeks and aching muscle. One year... But it was finally over. No more sleepless nights on the road, wondering if the shadows might hold a fearsome bandit looking to cut his throat and steal his gold. No more running from unspeakable things that stalk the night! Finally, haven was before Rodolfo, and that yearlong mission was coming to an end.

Rodolfo stood there, in the streets of Vahlana, hand and pen poised elegantly over a journal, laughing and weeping to himself. His hand trembled, and he dropped his quill.

How beautiful, how absolutely breathtaking! One year and he had finally arrived in the famed city! Though Rodolfo knew this day be the same as yesterday, the warmth of the sun and the warmth growing inside him reassured him today was the day everything changed.

Rodolfo stole a breath, and suddenly the paths before him seemed endless, and his body numb. He was unsure if he could take another step... but he had to.

Snapping his journal closed, the wandering noble slid it into his satchel in a fluid movement so natural, it appeared rehearsed. With his chin pointed upward and dirtied hands clenched tightly at his side, he marched on, ignoring the doubt that threatened to seize his mind. Tears streaked off his cheeks, a lock of silver hair loosed itself from under his azure hood. He looked only forward and ignored the clacking of teeth from within his bag. Gregory seemed just as excited as Rodolfo.

With swift paces, the boy continued forward, ignoring the suspicious glances from the denizens and guards of the city. At this point, Rodolfo had succumbed to his status as an outcast from the world, and paid no mind to the curious eyes and muttered whispers of others. There was only one thing on the boy’s mind now, and that was finding Uncle Belmont. Of course, in a city this size the man could have been anywhere!

As that thought crept into his mind, his stomach knotted and Rodolfo felt himself grow increasingly ill. How was he to find his uncle? Surely a man of his status would be hard to reach, especially in the titanic city of Vahlana. Despite the forced smile, Rodolfo felt hapless and lost. What he needed was a guide, or perhaps a sign, something to show him the way. Rodolfo had gotten by thus far with only his own wit, but that was when he was in the sanctified seclusion of the untamed lands outside. Now he was thrust out of his own element and into a bustling hellscape of civilization, with perplexing spires of ocher wood and seamless bridges of vine and marble. How did anyone navigate such confusing and non-Euclidean landscape?

Rodolfo stopped. His forced smile fading, he took a deep breath. Surely he couldn’t just go tromping through the city, demanding each passing soul the location of the second council member of Vahlana, and certainly not in his current state. He was being much too emotional and much too hasty.


In the ensuing hour the boy found a bathhouse, where he was finally able to scrub the dirt from his skin and condition his unkempt hair and launder his clothes. After that, he found an inn in which he was able to have his first real meal in months. When finally satisfied and rested, Rodolfo traveled to a general goods store in the market district. He planned on trading a few of the books from his collection for some desperatly needed pocket change.

“Let’s see what you've got here...” A dark-skinned, sinewy man held out a tree trunk of an arm in Rodolfo’s direction, his fingers beckoning for the boy’s stack of literature. Reluctantly, the necromancer handed over what he had. Despite Rodolfo knowing the books so well he could assuredly recite them, it always pained him to part with his tomes.

“Hmmm.” The gruff man quickly flipped through the yellowed pages with one hand, while the other scratched his thick black beard. “You don’t happen to have any of them erotic novels, do you? Believe you me, I’ve seen that raunchy sort fly off the shelves much faster than any of this scholarly bunk.”

Rodolfo blushed under the shadows of his hooded cloak. Truth be told, he did carry with him at one point a nautical romance novel. It had been something of an anomaly for the boy when he picked it up, but being completely transparent, Rodolfo would have to admit he enjoyed the silly old thing. It had brought him a few evenings of joy as he swathed himself in campfire light to embark on a written journey of nonsense and romantic chicanery. Sadly, that book had been traded out for an evening’s meal at a roadside inn many days and miles away.

“I’m afraid not sir. Though, I wouldn’t dare to imagine something like that would be of anymore worth than the books you see before you?” Rodolfo asked curiously. Was the trader really implying erotica was worth more than knowledge?

A chuckle escaped the tall man, his bushy beard parting to reveal a tight smile. “Ay, you must be confused on the type of folk that enter my shop. Most of these books are worthless to me, I isn’t a librarian, you see?” The man lazily reaches below the counter, the jingling of coins becoming very audible. After a moment, a small hand full of silver coins are dropped onto the counter.

Starring in disbelief, Rodolfo struggles to find his voice. “F-five? Five silver? You must understand these books are worth much more than a measly five silver.” The boy squeaked, unable to comprehend the logic.

“This book right here,” Rodolfo’s finger points to a tome bound in black leather and decorated with gold filigree “Is one of five copies of Sir Gill Hawthorn’s Monster Compendium! This bestiary is a vital tool for any hunter or woodsman and,” Rodolfo brings up his hands, gesturing to the assortment of stuffed animals and mounted game around the room “surely you get a few of those coming through here.”

The trader, who had been listening intently, only smiled. His hand once again reached bellow the counter and withdrew a single silver coin, placing it on the pile.

Aghast, Rodolfo starred, before placing his head onto the counter and grumbling something inaudible. The trader gave a laugh.

“Listen kid, I appreciate your tenacity, but most people don’t come in here looking for books and the sort, not unless they’ve got lovemaking written on them pages. While I do have hunters and the like that march on in here, I still would need to turn a profit on this, uhhh... Sir Kill Hot-Corn’s Beast Book, or whatever, and something like this could take a while to sell. With this little beauty, you’d best sell it directly to someone who could find use for it.” The large man pushed it back over to Rodolfo. “As for these other ones, lets take a look... Karleon the Opulent’s Guide to... Al-ch-emy?”

Rodolfo responded; annoyance barely masked in his voice. “It’s alchemy. That, again is a very rare book, but I assume you don’t really care much either way.”

“Ay, yeah we don’t have many alchemists wandering through these parts. It’s not really much worth to me... though you know what? I think there is a girl ‘round this area that does something like that. Lakan... Lakan Deer-whatsit? She’d probably take this book off your hands.”

At the mention of an alchemist in Vahalan, Rodolfo noticeably lit up. “And, if you don’t mind me asking, where might I find this mistress Lakan?”

The trader scratched his thick beard, and thought. “Uhm, I’m not entirely sure. Ask some folk around the markets, she’s infamous enough that I’m sure some know where her shop is.”

Rodolfo and the trader continued on for sometime, Rodolfo occasionally trying to bargain for more money, but being the shy boy he was, eventually backing down. He left the general store several books lighter, and with only three more silver to show for it.

As he stepped back into the markets, he looked about nervously. Clutched to his chest was his bestiary and alchemy book. First he needed to find a hunter or woodsman, and then someone to guide him to this Lakan’s dwelling. Of course, the boy was much too timid to approach anyone, and the bustling madness of the markets had sent him into a sort of stasis. His muscles tightened, and the boy stood petrified in the busy market streets. He frantically began looking around for a friendly face, someone who looked approachable...
(mentioned: Desert Rose )

Viscount Belmont Edwards Rotheschilde Von Rothenberg, Second member of the Vahlana High Council:

Belmont continued his walk towards the alchemist shop when a most unusual sight caught his attention. Quite a few hunters would come and sell their game and pelts and furs, but rarely would there actually be pups sold. There she was an elf huntress whom he had seen many times usually selling furs but here she was selling pups. Hearing her call out to anyone in the market place who would listen he walked over to her noticing the pup in her jacket that she was petting he then bent down looking at the pups in her care.

The elf grabbed a light grey pup by its scruff and carefully examined it. The pup whined and growled playfully biting his hand as he held it in his arms and patted its head. "hmmm" He said with a small smile as he looked over the other pups. The one he held in his arms was male and seemed strong. "very nice, I think I'll take this one. How much?" he asked looking at the elf.

Money was not an issue for the high council member and he certainly didn't expect to get things for free. After all people needed to eat. Although he still received plenty of items for free -on a silver platter.- At any rate he had chosen what he wanted long before he even knew the price of the pup. He had plenty of it that he really didn't need to know how much something cost until he was ready to make the purchase. He smiled waiting for the elf woman's answer.

Meredith

Continuing her rounds throughout the forest Swallow didn’t seem to find anything that waist of the ordinary, at least for the forest she resides in anyway. It didn’t take long however for the birds to suddenly fly high up into the air in a state of panic and distress. With her ears perked and eyes wide open, Swallow quickly took speed as she galloped through the forest with her staff in hand. Jumping over fallen trees and ducking under low hanging branches.

By the time she reached he area of need it was quiet again. Slightly at least. What seemed to be an eleven woman was stood with a recently caught bird in her palm and a large black wolf by her side. Unable to comprehend what exactly the relationship was between the two, Swallow stayed quiet. That was until she realised the woman had been hunting with what seemed to be her fellow hunting partner. Slowly approaching and very cautiously to say the least, Swallow swallowed her gut and kept a tight grip in her weapon.

Her foot steps made a heavier sound than most due to her horse like hind and heavy body weight, but she wasn’t particularly knowledgable about how to sneak up on people. By the time she was near by, her gut was no longer swallowed at sat in the back of her throat like a choking child on a pip from fruit. “Excuse me? Did you, kill the creature?” It was an odd phrase. But it was the way she spoke. She gazed at the eleven woman with a raised brow and curious tone.

( Ch3rryBlossom28 )

Lakan beckoned any passerby to enter her shop but so far luck was not on her side. She sighed at the irony of her shop being called liquid luck and she herself couldn't conjure some. It was all about belief mixed with science, that was the beauty of alchemy and magic at least for her interpretation. So far this belief wasn't landing her much of anything by means of much needed money. She focused less on the locals who usually avoided her shop as much as possible. She knew why but often refused to admit the reason being she was a bit eccentric and sometimes out right dangerous. Still it wasn't of any consequence to her.

Speaking of luck... as luck would have it, there was just who she was looking for. An outsider clearly one not use to the bustling tree city behind the stone walls. This was her chance, if she could get to him before others began to speak of her and the past often ruining her business then she could perhaps make a small profit. There the silver haired elf stood looking quite fear stricken and no one seemed to be noticing, no one ever seemed to notice. Lakan did, she always took notice of who and what was in the city around her shop, never missing an opportunity to learn and explore.

She lightly pushed herself off the door post of the doorway to her shop and disappeared inside for a moment grabbing a small bottle with blue liquid inside. Examining the bottle with her green eyes until satisfied she walked out of her shop to see the elf still standing there. Brushing her red hair back she smiled lightly using whatever charm she could muster up, she was a woman after all. She walked right up to the elf her rosy cheeks lifting as she gave a light smile.

"Welcome to Vahlana." She said always knowing the outsider.

"I'm Lakan Diedre the finest alchemist here, and you sir look like you could use some liquid luck." She said her voice smooth as a silk sheet that seemed to engulf its victim into an enchanting sleep. It was a well rehearsed line and it often swindled her some profit. Whether it actually worked or not was up to the person taking it. If you believe in luck and that the bottle of blue liquid she held out before him could give you such luck, then that was what happened. If not, then not so much, either way she could turn a profit.

"Or perhaps you are in need of something a bit stronger for such an overwhelming city." she said noting the fear on his face that only could be result of not being use to such a busy place. Judging him to be perhaps a wanderer of some sort. "Please, come take a look" she said pointing to her shop just ahead with the door still open.

The woman gave a slight backing putting distance between her and the elf all the while her smiled widened and she waited to see what the elf would do. Hoping she had caught his attention and enticed him to look inside the alchemy shop.

Croaker

Drakka woke this day as he woke most other days: bitter, and hungry. He rose quickly, and looked to find something to mitigate the latter issue. His "camp" such as it was, buried deep within the forest of Vahlana, but close enough to the citadel that they could strike quickly, was not a brilliant place to live. There were not enough animals nearby to hunt, and overhunting would cause suspicion, and that wouldn't do. No one could know they were there, not until it was already too late.
He walked with his axe slung over his shoulder. It never left his side, and for good reason. It was enchanted, an incredibly rare property to have. It was one of the key reasons for his power, although it didn't do him much good here. Most were loyal and/or too terrified of him to offer a challenge, and the new blood was kept in line by hunger and lust for Vahlana. It was honestly quite boring, but at the same time utterly exciting. He had been building up his army for years now, and had now had thousands of orcs, specially bred for strength and tenacity. Orcs as a race could do little other than fight. They reached physical maturity within a few years, and stayed that way for the rest of their lives. The vast majority of them were not intelligent enough to do anything other than kill and knob, except for special "Warlord-types" like Drakka.
They lived in fairly crude tents, some in trees, and the weak simply slept on the floor. Their stronghold was concealed and guarded by miles of dense foliage, impassable to normal people. Not orcs, though. Where branches would tear flesh and horses could not pass, orcs would simply charge through. Even with their genetic advantages, however, they would still suffer casulties trying to pass such natural barriers. Luckily, their scouts had found a "trail" with relatively thin undergrowth, at least compared to the rest of the area. That was their pathway to the citadel. To Vahlana.
Not all of them had to suffer such indignity, however. A fair few of them had land-dragons, which could scale the trees as easily as they could sprint on land. These were his knights. He could not remember where he had heard that word, but he liked the sound of it. As a symbolic gesture of his superiority, Drakka lived atop the tallest tree in a small hut. In that hut was the stockpile of the tribe's wealth. Although they might not have looked it, they were quite rich. Literal years of constant raiding had built them up quite the profit. His tribe had around the same amount of wealth as a city, but with not nearly as much upkeep. Money had less meaning to them than others, however. Orcs could not normally enter cities to purchase items, and no real Orc would bother. They took what they wanted, and nothing less.
They had some meat, of course. The weak were good for something. As leader, Drakka had first choice of everything, so he took a chunk of it and sat on his land dragon, overseeing breeding and training. Orcs bred like rats, and grew up fast. If they organised themselves, they could probably conquer the world. Before they all starved, at least. Agriculture was not one of their skills.
As he resigned himself to another boring day, Drakka said the same words he had every day ever since he encamped himself in this shithole:
"Just you wait. I'm going to drag you all back to Earth."

Faylan brightened. She'd been sitting there for a while, having one of the puppies taken (for free) by a mother and her young children, likely for protection. She was glad that people were taking them - they were weaned, and eating solid, but felt like her responsibility.

She eyed him slightly. He seemed capable, at the least, though she didn't want to take advantage.
"A gold piece, if you're able. To be true - or to be honest, if that's the word you prefer - I can't afford to keep the litter myself."

She shrugged, lowering her eyes, and sitting back in her seat. She had been fashioning a full harness for the dog she hoped to keep - complete with adjustable straps - and a longish leash for training her to keep close.
"Wilds aren't s'posed to have pups this late in the season. They're friendly 'nuff, though."

The old dwarf was in the middle of telling a story when a woman whose name he had not yet known peeked her head into his tent. Cocking an eyebrow, the dwarf suspended his verbal tale as she asked if there was room for one more. Nodding once without response. Before he continued to speak, the dwarf was sure to fix up a tall glass of Mead before handing his barrel's concoction over to Minerva.

Rubbing his stomach a bit, Kilgrin diverted his attention to the other two gentlemen so he could resume telling his story. A large gulp of alcohol was in order.

"Aye, Cheers..." He slammed the empty glass on a small wooden table in the middle of the tent. "Was with two of me pals travelin' to Nort'ern shores. Heard of plenty 'a riches, lads. As tall as t'e eyes could see! It took us but a fortnight to finally reach the shores before we got a haaard lesson on what poppa values, y'know what i'm sayin to ye lads? Was no gold, no silver. No, not even copper as far as t'e eyes could see. Rather... Hookers! The large variety was impressive, you 'eard ? But Kilgrin never been a man of such underw'elming desires. Such experiences could never amount to me tales 'a climbin' mountains and fighting dragons, cuttin' t'e heads off 'a gobbies is probably t'e best time an old dwarf could have t'ese days."

Kilgrin shook his head, a hand traveling through his long beard a few times as his eyes rested upon the ceiling. He had met plenty of women on his travels and experienced real passion. Had children. Kilgrin was such a devoted father that monetarily supported his kids - but their mothers as well. He was trying to set a precedent; as an eldern dwarf, head of his kin, Kilgrin wanted the impact he imposed on others to be longlasting. To span generations. He needed to be great for his people. With each impressive step, Kilgrin put another notch on his belt toward the great feats even little people like dwarves could achieve. He stood to fight with the best, banged the best, and had been on the best adventures. Kilgrin had no regrets for how he lived his life.

If he died tomorrow, he would do so with a smile on his face.

"Apologize, madam. What can an old dwarf do for ye? Ain't seen ye 'round much, but'chu understand that this is a tent for people who need the help of a welder, do ye?" He filled his glass up once more. At certain points, Kilgrin wondered if drinking was worth the hassle of constantly having to refill his cup. So, after he filled his glass and drank it down for the last time, the dwarf picked up the heavy barrel with all of his might and set it down on the comically small wooden table in the middle of the room.

Yessir, the old dwarf might have had some respectable morals, but some of his viewpoints were certainly misogynistic or... Racist.

Oreo Cookie

Viscount Belmont Edwards Rotheschilde Von Rothenberg, Second member of the Vahlana High Council:

Belmont eyed Faylan when she requested a gold piece for the pup. He returned his gaze to the pup in his hand looking it over once more before smiling and with his free hand he reached into his pocket pulling out two gold pieces. "One for this pup here and the other for your trouble." he said handing her the pieces.

"Hmm... that is an odd predicament, these pups are easy to domesticate though." he said giving her a bright smile. "I have some errands to run so I'll spread the word. I'm sure this little guy will draw curious attention." he said with a light chuckle and bright smile as he curled the pup into his arms petting its head and scratching behind its ears.

"Pleasure doing business with you... miss?" He waited for her to say her name. He always forgot to introduce himself figuring everyone knew who he was or at least knew of him, but he was always up for learning who other people were. It was what made him so good at being a council member. He knew everyone staying in Vahlana and made it a point to learn the newcomers whether they stayed or left.

Meredith

A maelstrom of noise swelled around Rodolfo. For a moment, he struggled to find his bearings in the sea of sound, but he quickly noticed a distinct voice amongst the thrum beckoning him like a lighthouse in the fog, and much like a sailor lost at sea, Rodolfo hastily followed it’s guiding light.

The boy’s mind was racing a million miles a second. There was so much that he wanted to accomplish right now. He needed to sell these books for one; pocket change would be required to persuade folks into helping him find Belmont. Although, perhaps this alluring voice was exactly what he was looking for?

“Welcome to Vahalna.”

A stunning redheaded woman with the most dazzling of smiles approached, and Rodolfo felt his cheeks flush pink. He was really quite awful with woman.

"I'm Lakan Diedre the finest alchemist here, and you sir look like you could use some liquid luck."

"Or perhaps you are in need of something a bit stronger for such an overwhelming city."

"Please, come take a look"

Liquid luck? Rodolfo had heard of it before, and he knew there couldn’t ever really be such a thing, but in this moment his brain grew numb, and all he could manage was a lame; “Uh-huh.” He chided himself internally for sounding so stupid. He stumbled a bit closer to her, his bare feet barely keeping him steady.

Just then, a realization struck him. Lakan! This was the alchemist that grisly trader spook of. Perhaps there was such thing as luck, liquid or otherwise!

The half-elf, finally coming to his senses, bowed. “G-greetings mistress Lakan.” He says, flourishing his cloak in an awkward and boyish manner. “I-I am Rodolfo Albern Hawthorn Sylas Vo-“ Embarrassingly, the books the boy clutched to his chest tumbled forth from his clammy palms, stopping him mid introduction and mid bow. “O-oh Dear, oh no.” Quickly, he grabbed for the volumes, and shot upright.

Stiffly, Rodolfo sticks out his hand and hastily finishes his introduction. “Rodolfo Albern Hawthorn Sylas Von Rothenburg III, but please, just call me Rodolfo. P-pleasure to make your acquaintance.” His voice cracks. “Shall we head into your shop?”
Desert Rose

Lakan smiled as the male elf seemed to fluster even more at her approach, she figured that she would make easy profit with this one as he fumbled through his introduction. She held in a giggle when the poor thing dropped his books as he bowed to her, she didn't laugh to be mean but she felt sorry for him. "Let me help..." she started to bend over to help him with his books when he quickly scooped them up in his arms. She straightened herself back up and smiled as he finished his introduction.

"Rothenburg?" she questioned recognizing the last name he gave to be Belmont Rothenburg and wondered if they were related. Now even more curious of this new fellow she was far too eager to pull him into her shop. When he gave the motion to do so she smiled and lead him to her small shop. "I have potions the finest quality and for the best price." She said with a grin, of course she was the only one really selling potions so of course she had the best price.

"What brings you to Vahlana?" she asked liking to make small conversation with her customers in order to get to know them a bit better. The information she got she used in her sales pitch.

Croaker

Minerva fully entered the tent upon the old dwarf's silent acknowledgment. She quickly took a seat amongst the men and was pleasantly surprised when the dwarf offered her a drink. Only in Vahlana could someone receive a free glass of mead by just walking in a stranger's tent. Oh how she loved it. Nodding her thanks, she eagerly took the glass in hand and downed a swig of it. The drink was better than she expected, it's flavors delighting her. It was much better than the cheap drinks she habitually got from various inns and taverns.

Typically, Minerva wasn't the type of person to listen to the past adventures of old geezers. She had neither the patience nor interest for tales of any sort, even if it was the rare story that involved hookers. On any other day she would have voiced her disinterest with a few choice words, but today she found herself in a surprisingly good mood. The dwarf's mead certainly helped, and if he kept the refills coming, she supposed she could listen to even the dullest tale.

With only a mouthful of mead left, Minerva was about to finish her drink when the dwarf finally took heed of her. She paused in response to his comment, her glass still on her lips. Tilting her head back, she drained the rest of her drink before replying.

"Aye. Don't worry. I think I understand what ya do, hun." She said with a growing smirk. She paused once more, mild amusement dancing in her eyes as the dwarf hefted the barrel of mead onto the table. "I just need a sword. Short. Simple. Nuthin too fancy. Need some self protection against orcs and such outside Vahlana ya know?"

Realizing she had yet to give her name, the raven haired woman spoke once more. "Name's Mina by the way."

Brax

The dwarf cocked an eyebrow before letting out a hearty laugh in jest. "Ah! A valiant cause if I ever heard one, Miss Mina! Jus' 'cause you're out doin' the lord's work, i'll discount it for ya. Two silver and you'll be out in a jiff." With that, Kilgrin moved around his anvil and began shaping a piece of sponge iron. Working with relative swiftness, Kilgrin began shaving off large pieces of the metal with a large grinding machine. "I killed a lot of orc in my days. A few elves too, but those lads were some bad seeds. I would prefer to avoid violence against man or dwarf, even elves - regardless of whether or not my kind and theirs get along."

War was a harsh reality but it took more of a man to avoid it than kill for glory. The other two men had bid their farewells as Kilgrin finished shaping the handle of the sword. Still, he was far from done when it came to completing his masterpiece. Be it regular sword or a grandiose weapon, Kilgrin never allowed anybody to walk out of his tent with a half-assed item that was designed to defend and take lives.

His weapons had to be of sturdier stuff to outstrike them, be made of better material to outmatch them, and contain the craftsmanship to enable success. This was a motto passed down to him from generations before him.

Forging the weapon in the fire, Kilgrin was unfortunate enough to not have a third hand to continue drinking. The quenching of his thirst would be postponed due to his work. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last. Inside of the tent, Kilgrin had attempted to use as much space as he possibly could. Not that it was particularly hoarder central, but between the machines and tools, chairs, barrels, an entire corner filled with handmade sheaths, seats, the table and the anvil, only walking space was free. And believe you me, tents in the marketplace of Vahlana were not the most spacious of places.

Kilgrin didn't mind standing in silence. He didn't have much to say, so he didn't speak. Kilgrin was not one to speak when the situation didn't warrant it. He did not attempt to make conversation when it didn't need to be made, nor did he force interactions. Awkward silences galore around Kilgrin? Perhaps, but the dwarf wasn't really one to give a shit about much. When it came to old friends, stories of his past and a flow of words came easy. When it came to new people? If they didn't know of him, chances were there wasn't much reason to know more.

Oreo Cookie

They hadn't been walking for long when Knight stopped and tensed up beside her. Aurora stopped and followed his gaze to the side. This happened often due to the fact that Knight had much better hearing than her and could hear something moving from far away. Aurora attempted to hear what her wolf heard but to avail.

"It's ok boy. Let's get going." Aurora went to move but it was then that she heard rustling. Knight's lip pulled back, bearing his sharp fangs, as he began growling. Aurora's left hand reached down to her thigh and rested on the hilt of the dagger she currently had strapped there. Normally the bow would be her go to dealing but it did her no good in close quarters. Aurora wondered what cresture it could be. If it was a predator it would have attacked her already. Plus it was too loud. Predators tended to stalk their prey before attacking.

Hearing the sound of hooves was not something Aurora anticipated. Infact the creature that came out into view was not at all what she was expecting. Her mouth opened slightly to make and 'o' shape. If Aurora had to guess she looked like a centaur but with these wicked cool horns ontop.

Pretty She thought.

When the centaur spoke, Aurora was a little confused by the way she spoke. Looking down at the clearly dead bird in her hand her eyes went up and looked at the creature, her eyebrow raised. "Yes I killed it. Is that going to be a problem?" Centaur were forest folk and usually didn't like those hunting in their forest. Though Aurora had never seen one in the forest before.

Ridge

Like a mindless sheep, Rodolfo follows Lakan back to her shop. The boy had a nervous and excited smile about his face, his fingers uneasily fidgeting with the corners of his tomes. Alchemy was a fantastical art, one that Rodolfo had only ever read about in the libraries of Rothenburg manner. He had never had the bravery to practice it himself, and he had certainly never seen its finished results in such a magnitude.

Rodolfo’s gaze flew about the interiors of Liquid Luck, taking in the sights, admiring the glass vials filled with brilliantly colored liquids, admiring the handy work of the alchemist. He took a deep breath, inhaling the medicinal scents of the shop.

"What brings you to Vahlana?"

The question brought Rodolfo’s head out of the clouds and back onto his shoulders. He fought to find his words, before speaking. “Oh, umm, I’m actually on an important mission. I’m here to find my uncle, he-he’s one of the council members.” The boy avoids Lakan’s gaze and stares down at his bare feet. “You may have heard of him, his name is Belmont. Belmont Edwards Rotheschilde Von Rothenberg.”

At the mention of Belmont, Gregory begins to chatter excitedly the bag on Rodolfo’s back. The poor pile of bones was ready to become whole again.

Doing his best to ignore his friends babble, Rodolfo extends Karleon the Opulent’s Guide to Alchemy in Lakan’s direction. “Anyway, it’s rather urgent and I do need to be on my way soon. Vahlanna is a lot bigger than I imagined, and I sadly don’t have much in the ways of money. I-I would, however, like to know how much this is worth to you. I know Karleon’s books are quite rare, and it tears me apart to part with one of their volumes... b-but desperate times calls for desperate measures I su-suppose.”
Desert Rose

The prison cells were dark and cold, just like Belmont's heart the brunette prisoner thought to herself while she laid upon the cold stone floor. She had been out for hours since the draining process. She like other prisoners were drained of their power in order for Vahlana to function the way that it did. The prisoners were what lit the city and kept the pant life growing and safe.

The young woman carefully pushed herself up off the stone floor and noticed she was in a different cell than before. She was alone and isolated. Carefully, gold hues scanned the stone walls and noticed a missing pebble from the corner. "Finally a flaw." She whispered her tone dark and sinister. Without hesitation she used a little of what she could muster of her telekinetic power and pulled the other debris from the corner watching the wall crumble as though it were shattered glass.

She hurt in the most excruciating way possible. Physically the was numb, Belmont told the guards she possessed too much energy and so they extracted it. It didn't matter now, because before her was open air, and sunlight peeking through the canopy that hung over the city that her people created long ago. Tears welled up in the poor woman's eyes as freedom stood before her.

The prisoner had to move fast, for a giant hole in the wall wouldn't go unnoticed. In a last valiant effort knowing that she would most likely die soon with all of her energy spent the woman vanished into a one inch fairy. She flew through the city, scared and trying to come up with a plan.

It was then that her eyes settled on an Alchemy shop. 'Alchemy.. potions...' she thought to herself and the moment she flew inside the doors slammed shut and locked the fairy flew in full force right into Rodolfo with a force that would knock him onto the ground as her form went back to average height of five feet. The brunette groaned and looked up from the floor staring at the two with tearful eyes.

"Help... Me...." She pleaded with them.

( Croaker Brax Ch3rryBlossom28 Ridge Balfnaught1 Meredith Oreo Cookie Kloudy ) (Lore post so everyone is being tagged).

Lakan smiled at the elf as he spoke and nodded "Who doesn't know Sir Belmont." She said with a slight laugh. The young woman knew the high council member far more than she wanted to. After nearly destroying the city it was hard to not have the watchful eye of the council or even a guard.

"I'd be happy to take you-" she started to say but stopped when she heard mumbling coming from what seemed to be his back. Shaking her head she reached for the book and her eyes lit up.

"How did you get your hands on one of these... well you're a Rothenburg... " she laughed filtering through the book in awe. "This is... amazing." she gleefully said with a smile.

That redhead's smile soon changed when something zipped in so fast slamming the shop's door shut and hearing the click of the lock. To her amazement and shock her eyes gazed upon the fairy woman who laid upon the floor begging for help.

"Are you all right?" Lakan asked kneeling down before the girl looking her over for injury. Her eyes looked at Rodolfo "meeting your uncle may have to wait. Quick Help me get her upstairs." Lakan said her living quarters was upstairs and she would be able to properly help the woman upstairs than on the floor of her shop.

Croaker