Fantasy &nbsp; Banners &amp; Blood (Closed)

frakncheese · Feb 4, 2018

Calliope No, Glewick Outskirts

"A sweeper, a weeper, a momma, a babe, ♪
a stepper, a kepyr, and a wrath outgrabe. ♪"

Calliope's voice waved sweet through the air, where the burning fires had roared themselves hoarse enough to let her be heard. Right now, her body curved gently, like the shore of a brook, and her face was almost as full as the moon. In an hour it could be something different, but she didn't dwell long on that thought, or on most others. There was cheer in her voice, but her ash-covered hands were shaking. "I feel the dead, I cannot heal the dead," she repeated to herself like a mantra.

She pushed out one short, harsh laugh, then sank into a crouch, breathing raggedly. She made noises with her tongue to soothe herself, loud clips and clops. When the threat of tears had passed, she creeped out of her crouch, moving down the road a little longer before coming upon a patch of trees. She giggled. "What shady friends! May I rest a spell here? Have you much to tell me since last time? I have no breeze without the leaves ♫." Gazing up at the leaves, she noticed a streak of orange. "Ho, strange bird! Might I peep you truly? I'd only like a look, to know you better such that lipsy toils trifle."

ShadTheWerepire

ShadTheWerepire · Feb 4, 2018

That is no horse. Shae's eyes widened as a purple-haired, clicking humanoid wandered her way. That hair color was fantastic, Shae wished she could find a flower of that tone for her rags. Nothing quite had that smidgen of lilac. Maybe it was a bug color? Shae made a mental note to crush bugs more often as part of her effort to find that exact color. She could just ask the clicker how they found such a perfect color.

Shae's awe over the color faded as the human's sing-songy giggles sent a chill down her spine. The cat's back arched and fur stood on end as they sat in the crook of the tree, directly below. Shae's curiosity burned and she dared to look down. In that moment the eyes of a human looked back up at her. Shocked, Shae hid back behind her branch, claws digging deeper into the bark as the fear jolted her adrenaline.

Apparently, the singer hadn't seen much because she called out for a bird. An orange bird in these parts? Clearly this singer was a fool or at least not from around here. Shae sat down and whipped her tail back and forth with frustration over the edge of the branch as if to say I'm not a bird, I'm far superior.

Epiphany · Feb 4, 2018

Oblivious of the conflict within the camp, or even the signs of their stirring, Cassie pressed on through the night towards the distant campfire. She made quick time despite the hour, for she traveled light and was used to long trips through the forests while collecting strange things for particular occult rituals. Her Furious Mote made it difficult to see much more than their fire until she was practically on top of the camp.

If she's not intercepted, Cassie paused just outside the wagons and called out. "Good evening there! Are you the group out of Oakheart? I'm Cassie. Cassie Weaver? It looks like you ran into a spot of trouble back there. I was drawn by the event. I'm here to help, if you'll accept wizardly help anyway. I probably know a few of you and I'm known by most of the folk in Oakheart to those who don't."

And indeed, anyone who'd spent any time in Oakheart and likely heard of the enigmatic elven 'cousin' adopted by the large Weaver clan, one known to have studied wizardry at the feet of a Wizard named Ivers some two days distance from town.

frakncheese · Feb 4, 2018

Calliope No, Glewick Outskirts (Patch of Trees)

"Oh! Or was I wrong?" she said quietly as the feline came better into view, flicking its tail in a motion Callie found mesmerizing. Suddenly, a mischievous grin cracked along her face, which shifted with her mirth to a more androgynous shape. "I think not; you are what you eat, cleaning feathers from your clawed feet ♪!" She dissolved into laughter, falling to the ground and rolling around until the tunic that hung so loose on her had bunched up and leaves had grabbed firm hold of her purple hair. When she calmed down, she abruptly leapt to a low-hanging branch on a nearby tree and hoisted herself up to sit on it. Swinging her feet, she peered curiously at the cat. "Alright, Lady Puss. Is it a staring match you're after? I'm afraid I haven't the plump, the veer, to keep my gaze from straying."

ShadTheWerepire

WlfSamurai · Feb 5, 2018

Outside Glewick

Night has arrived. Her skirt blankets the fields and roofs and trees. The black smoke from the city is no longer visible against the purple sky and dark clouds. The smell of burnt wood, stone, and flesh permeates the air.

Shae and Calliope, from your perch in the tree, you both see a white figure stumble out from between two houses. As it gets closer, you can see its a young girl in her nightgown. The gown was once white, but now, like the girl’s face, it’s covered in blood. The girl shambles past your tree, taking no notice of either of you.

ShadTheWerepire ,

—————————

Camp, just outside the Dead Wood

Raes and Gillie both look at you, Cassie. Despite the strange meeting and your checkered history with Oakheart, there is some semblance of relief in their eyes.

Gillie smiles at you and pulls a strand of hair from her face. “Cassie,” she says. “Yes. I remember. There were a few times Dad and I brought old Ivers supplies. You and I used to play together, if you’ll recall. It’s me, Gillie.”

Teh Frixz ,

PJ-Flash , @JohnEgbert,

ShadTheWerepire · Feb 5, 2018

Shae cringed at the maniac below her tree. She had seen crazy, but this was something special. Rolling and laughing, the purple singer was ruining her perfect hair with the grey death of the leaves littering the area. Shae could not stand the tarnishing of that hair but she also wasn't about to jump down. Especially as the chatter continued. The switch between girlish giggles and a deeper chortle made Shae's fur stand on end again.

Unsure of her safety, Shae remained in the tree but she peered down at her new companion as they spoke. The concept of a staring challenge sounded like a fun, simple display of skill, harmless in every way, and the singer expressed little confidence in their own staring skills. A game would be fun as they shouldn't be in any danger despite their relative proximity to the burning town. This was a safe road, she was a cat, and the singer was crazy, no one would bother them.

Shae locked eyes with the singer as if to accept the unique challenge but an inhuman movement made her eyes dart down the path. The shaky, awkward gate of the approaching traveler confused the cat. Perhaps it was a wounded burn victim fleeing the town. As the bloodied gown came into view she audibly hissed and raised her hackles, hopefully alerting the singer below of the stranger. Yet, the girl continued walking past. Was she in shock? There didn't appear to be a burn, just blood, lots of blood. A cat could not help, but she wasn't ready to transform back, not until she saw how the singer reacted.

Epiphany · Feb 5, 2018

FInding a warmer reception than she might have expected, Cassie drops her hand and dismisses her Furious Mote with a softly spoken incantation. Then she steps forward and beams at the young woman. "Of course I recall. I don't quite remember you being so tall though." Her tone is friendly and teasing, a memory of when both were younger...though the elf had barely aged during Raes' life to say nothing of Gillie's. Still, the memory's a fond one. Gillie's become a beautiful woman and it delights the elf to see that good heart remains.

Her pale eyes narrow as they adapt to the firelit campsite and she notes the movement of the others here, noticing as well the wounded Ash...and the deceased Nemeia and Alysha. The elf's death especially grieves her, for while she'd barely ever met the other woman, Cassie's connection to her heritage was sparse. Now that she was free of Ivers and his plot for her, she'd never have a chance to learn more about the people she'd come from. At least, not from Alysha.

"I'm sorry I wasn't more timely," she says to Raes and Gillie, as well as anyone nearby. "Something dreadful has fallen over the Deep Wood and I didn't...by the time I realized the danger to all of you, that you were traveling this way, I was far enough away that I couldn't catch you any faster. I'm here now. Let me see to your friend."

Assuming she has no issue approaching the prone Ash, likely laid into the wagon by Elias at this point, Cassie approaches the other woman with a cautious tread and hands held apart. Seeing Ash is unconscious, she glances at Elias and Finch who presumably linger nearby.

"Hello there. It looks like you've all had a bad night. I'm not a priest by any means but I am a Wizard. There may be something I can do for her, if you'll let me. It's Cassie, by the way. Cassie Weaver." And then, getting a closer look at Finch, she smiles in relief. "Is that Finch? It's nice to see a friendly face."

frakncheese · Feb 5, 2018

Calliope No, Outside Glewick

This cat answered by way of staring, which Cal took as a challenge issued. Well, she would meet Lady Puss on the field of battle in that case! Callie squinted her eyes at the critter, mouth twisting into all sorts of smiles. She could see something more behind the cat's eyes than simple feline disdain. There was a shining streak of intelligence beyond the innate cleverness of a predator. There wasn't enough time to study this, though, as it was only seconds before another visited upon their game. With night spinning over the land, it would be hard to make out the scarlet of blood covering the girl, but that it still gleamed wetly in the moonlight and smelled faintly of copper.

Cal's shoulder's drooped down as sadness stole across her face. They broadened, then, filling out the saggy tunic. Their hips narrowed so they would not push so much at their britches, and in the course of a second, Cal appeared a young man - albeit a rather slight one, hardly the image of machismo. He no longer slumped in sadness; instead, his shoulders cut rigid lines of tension. "I don't like blood, and not this flood; I could go my life without this rud ♫." He shuddered, and when the girl did not stop, he leaped from his branch.

"Ghost!" he called out to her. "Fleeting, crimson dove! Or are you an honored falcon..." He shook his head, holding it between his hands, but continued. "What blood can I return straightly or crookedly to corpus? What world asunder in the miniature needs my hands? I'll give good, I'll grottle down to scars, and scars forbid."

If she continues to walk, he may take her hand - not forcefully, just enough to garner attention.

WlfSamurai · Feb 7, 2018

Outside Glewick

Calliope and Shae, the bloodied girl, not older than twelve, stops past the tree. For a long moment, she stands completely still. The back of her head faces you making understanding what she is thinking or doing difficult. She turns and looks up at the voice in the tree calling to her. Her face is blank and her eyes look at you, but don’t see you. A few more long moments hang and a wind rustles her hair and bloodied gown. Her mouth opens and shuts, mimicking the movement of speaking, but without sound or shape to form words.

Then, she breaks her silence. Her voice is small and dry. “Praise be to he who ravages the corpse and damns the soul,” she says. “Praise be to he who rends the flesh and splits the mind. Praise be to he who loves none and curses all. Praise be to the father of death, suffering, and madness. For in madness, ye shall find end. And all end is sacred, for it feeds the maw who’s lust for flesh and soul knows no bounds. Praise be to he who ravages...” She starts her chant over and begins to turn back toward the field and continue walking.

ShadTheWerepire ,

frakncheese

—————————————-

Camp, just outside the Dead Wood

With Cassie on-hand looking at Ash’s leg, the group tears down camp and the wagons begin moving again. The wind kicks up making the moonlight dance off the reeds and plants in the fields. The road is flatter and straighter than that of the Dead Wood. Travel is far easier. No much is said amongst you all. The experience of the woods is still fresh and hasn’t yet scabbed over.

Less than an hour has passed and Ash’s leg is fully restored. There are moments even in these times that magic redeems itself. This is one of them. Cherish it.

Hours pass into the night and you all cross a simple bridge over a quiet stream. The sun peeks over the horizon and begins its ascent. Fields turn to farmland and hovels dot the landscape here and there. Ahead, Glewick’s hulking ruin still seems distant and surreal, like a nightmare mirage.

The day drags on into night and back into day again. You continue, pushing each other and the wagons. Shifts ensure that the group has enough sleep to drive forward and be alert. There is no sense in taking chances.

Soon, the city looms in the distance. Before long, details can be made out. Many of the buildings and houses that made up the city proper are burnt husks. Several have collapsed completely. Even now, days after the fires, and a few days after you all first saw the city, tendrils of black smoke slip into the sky. There is a charred, metallic smell on the wind here and there; the smell of burnt flesh and wood.

But, there is one white structure that contrasts the ruin around it. A church steeple reaches for the heavens, like a finger of a god. It seems untouched and pristine. It stands defiant in the orange dusk.

You’re still a few hours from Glewick, but Raes stops his wagon, halting the group. “We’ve got a bit longer to go before we’re in the city,” he calls to you all. “Do we stop until morning or press on?”

Teh Frixz ,

elie ,

PJ-Flash , @JohnEgbert,

Wackadoodle0987 · Feb 7, 2018

The great city walls loomed over the pair; even in their scorched and ruined state the structures were an imposing sight up close. How such ruin befell the grand city would be a tale worth telling, no doubt. The outskirts were less damaged, a scattering of hovels and cattle farms, their miserable state being the work of decades of neglect, rather than the destruction which ravaged the inner city.

Amelie cast a glance back. The party they'd encountered in the woods had continued on their way to Glewick, though they journeyed at a slower pace given their size and load. The sisters were less than a day ahead, and the others would likely reach the gates by nightfall, or the next day.

"There's a foulness in the air," Anna's nose wrinkled, her face souring, "Death carried far on the wind, but this stench is altogether evil."

The younger vampire sniffed herself, "Curious... I was certain my perfume covered that." She gave her sibling a wry grin and ushered her horse forwards, through the city gates. "Let's just see how bad the situation is with... what's left of the store. Then we'll disappear." Her lips cracked open into a toothy smile, "Or ya know... investigate this peculiar situation."

With a grunt, Anna followed her sister into the city, "Whatever the cause of this destruction, it may be a greater threat if left unobstructed. I would think it wise to pursue the case at least until we know a little more."

"Yeah, or because we're bored and this is the most interesting thing we've seen in months." Amelie retorted. Anna scoffed, but even she could admit that, despite her ability to seem wholly disinterested... there was a limit to even her boredom - and to live as long as they have, sometimes a little destruction can prove quite fun.

Though the smoke hang heavily in the air, choking the narrow streets, the foul smell pervaded the elder sibling's senses relentlessly. A familiar stench that she had grown to hate so very much... magic. There was no denying that it played some part, she could feel the hairs in her skin rise as the faint echoes of magic crackled about her. Even Amelie's eyes seemed to shine a little brighter in the thick atmosphere.

Anna could not say what the cause of this destruction was, or definitely that magic played a part in the city's destruction or its defence... but it was no small part of her mind doubting that it bore any good. Magic was dangerous... it never ended well.

Still, even as the air itself seemed alive with energy, the rest of the city... was all but barren. Not a single murmur of a voice, or a whisper carried by the breeze. Their heightened senses were focused acutely, and yet there wasn't even the faintest of signs of life. At least, not yet. The pair continued on, making their way through thr cobblestone streets, navigating the maze-like slums and backstreets littered with rubble and half burned timber from the collapsing buildings. Bodies too, charred and blackened, flesh still smoking, were scattered about the city ruins.

It seemed the destruction was swift and violent, with so many caught in its wrath. What few survived, if any, had no doubt fled or remained holed up until it was safe to come out... assuming it yet was. "Imagine the look on Veira's face if she saw this." Amelie chuckled, breathing in the deathly air, "She'd sure have some complaints." The younger vampire pointed off towards a few half charred corpses, "The laziness, for one. It's not a thorough job..."

Anna rolled her eyes, ignoring her sister's crap. She had no mind to listen to her cruel nonsense.

"... Humans bring out their true nature at the best of times. This is all testament to their real selves. Violent, destructive... they would call us monsters, but daren't hold a light to themselves." The younger vampire's expression was deathly cold for a moment, as a strange feeling washed over her, retreating as fast as it came. "Perhaps they need a reminder."

Ronan · Feb 8, 2018

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[/div]As Elias carried her, she dreamed.

It was home.
She stood among the waving fields of crimson poppies that seared the pale blue sky of her dream, and as she looked into her hands, she saw the crushed petals of the poppy flush through her fingers and sink into the hill they grew on. The hill that swallowed her. The lea she welcomed with the softest laughter. It was home. She spun in the flowers and watched their fronds vault into the air in slow-motion. Here was home. Here was the endless fields of red that beckoned to eternity.
She closed her eyes and fell back against the flowers, sinking further into the dream, deeper into the red.
Ash dreamed of scarlet smiles; a smile so innocent with plump lips that overshadowed a Machiavellian visage. The mien of a red queen. She bites into a pomegranate and Ash watches the juice trickle down her arms and neck, like blood. She has a crown fashioned out of the dead and she trembles as she devours the fruit; not out of fear, but power. The queen trembles with reckoning. This is a queen who sleeps with the poppies. A queen of the blood.

Here is the dreaming world of reaping folk and dead winds. Here is her dead country of poppies. I am the last of my kind. She looks to the queen's pomegranate, the fruit of the dead, and pushes forward into the forbidden fruit, sinking her teeth into it's savoury nectar and falls further into the poppies. The castle, the Daughters, the scholars, the massacre, the death knell of a bell that rings over the land of now-white poppies and grave-keepers. The queen is dead. There are only ash poppies now.

______________

She wakes slowly, resurfacing from the gorge between the waking and dreaming world. The wagon was bright with sunlight filtering through the ripped holes to illuminate her, all brilliant green eyes and porcelain skin. Ash blinks against the harsh light and turns her head to the side, fanning a hand over her eyes to block out the sunlight, and there she was—the elf that descended the hilltop before she collapsed. She was beautiful, graced by the blood of the elves with blonde hair and pointed ears, the land of the elves incarnate. 'You're—', she tries, voice raspy and hollow. She realises she needs water. She needs to get out of the wagon.

She remembers Elias carrying her from the fireplace and nothing else. Not the days or the hours that have passed. Ash reaches for the closest wooden box and pushes herself up into a sitting position and rubs her forehead, feeling for the headache but it's gone. The dream is gone and the poppies are still ash in her mind. She examines the rest of herself: missing tricorne hat, ripped cravat and pants, dirt caked under her fingernails, and—Ash feels her chest seize with excitement. Her left boot is gone, too but she can see it: two legs. Healed!

She jilts her left leg and it moves. She wiggles her toes in order and it plays like a perfect piano. It was as if the forest never happened. Ash smiled, something rare. Her quartermaster jibed that pulling a smiling from her was like finding treasure. Something capable of instantaneous joy; something contagious that made her crew smile in turn.
She grabbed the same wooden box and pushed herself up onto two feet and swayed with the wagon rattling over rocks and sloshing through mud. Two feet! Standing alone stirred a thrill in her! Ash turned back to the elf, her green eyes all-knowing as if she held the key to elven-kind. The land of the elves! The smile, the foot, the ignorance of the rest of the world; Ash felt powerful, and as she stood, she felt herself growing stronger. The pentomino pieces were rebuilding themselves: her power, her namesake, her corsair talent all in one: Bloody Ash!

Her gaze left the elf's and she took a step and began her search around the wagon for her weapons. Where was her rapier and gladius? Her fingertips beckoned for their familiar weight. Another step and this time, her hair freed itself from the hair-tie and fell around her face and shoulders in soft, silver waves. She couldn't help it; she was a mess, but she felt commanding. She felt a wildness bloom in her, like teetering on the edge of a cliff and everything lay in the chasm. Everything was one jump away.

She jumped from the wagon and landed gracefully.
The Dead Woods was miles away and Glewick City was upon them. She started to run, weaving through the caravans like a child; past Tanner, Elias, Finch, past everyone. It was maddening! Having two feet and being whole again made her drunk on excitement. Glewick City! Even it's smouldering silhouette didn't seem to frighten her. But in the distance, she saw a church, stark white against the burnt city. A Baroque church with a cross perched on top, like a beacon of light in a sea of black—or a beacon of danger. At this, Ash cautioned. She was religious, part of the long-gone Cardinals of her country of poppies. Fear the Homily, they cautioned. Beware the Bishops. White is the aerie of the Homily.

Her excitement was gone as quickly as it came. She needed water now more than ever—and her weapons. Where were they? She turned to the wagon closest to her and saw Gillie driving it. She narrowed her gaze at him; if he was ever frightened of his daughter's gaze, then Ash made sure her's was more frightening and pressuring. 'Water,' she ordered. Then a softer, 'Where are my weapons?'

WlfSamurai /

Epiphany

Epiphany · Feb 9, 2018

Dealing with the feverish woman had taken most of Cassie's time and much of her strength. The wound, the stress caused by what inflicted it, and a nascent infection had definitely left her patient in dire straits. Thankfully, Cassie knew an incantation that could speed up Ash's recovery, by chaining the woman's lifeforce to her own. It took the night and all of the elf's concentration before she sensed the wound melting away, allowing her to drift off to sleep.

The spell had drifted mostly apart but enough lingered that Ash's return to consciousness woke Cassie as well. The blonde elf leaned over the prone woman and offered the friendliest smile she could manage. When Ash tried to speak, she coughed and Cassie immediately fished out a canteen to quench Ash's thirst.

"I'm not much of a healer," she admitted, watching with pleasure as the other woman's joy became so evident. There was something wild, fierce and strong in Ash as she rose, standing on the wagon as if riding a ship through a rough sea. "But it's nice to see you well," she said softly as Ash leaped from the wagon. Such enthusiasm didn't last long but it made the whole trip worthwhile.

Of course, the real work lay in front of them. Cassie shaded her eyes as she peered ahead towards the ruin of Glewick City. The lone church remained, giving rise to mixed feelings in the human-raised elf. She had her share of reverence, had even been a regular at the local church when she was younger. But Cassie had never shaken the feeling, the impression that it wasn't for her. Oh, the people of the village had been welcoming enough but there was something in the way they worshiped together that left her feeling unintentionally excluded. Like, everyone intuitively felt and knew rules she could only grasp intellectually.

Most of this group were human. Might they all have better reception at this lone bastion against Glewick's destruction?

Wackadoodle0987 · Feb 10, 2018

The marketplace was a nightmarish scene. Bodies, charred and ashen, littered the large square; some dispossessed of limbs, or parts of their bodies savaged grotesquely. The inner city was desolate, buildings ruined far beyond the destruction that had wrought its way throughout Glewick.

The sisters made towards their store – much of the roof had caved in, and the front wall had mostly crumbled inwards. Amelie was forced to hold the bottom of her dress up as the pair climbed over the rubble. The rear of the store seemed to have remained mostly intact, thankfully, and from within could be heard faint shuffling and clattering.

"Master Elgebrecht?" Amelie called out, rather chirpily at that. There was a feint reply from in a back room, followed by some loud thumping sounds, and within a few moments, a red-faced, huffing and puffing, rather portly man came through the door way – arms filled with a variety of items. The colour quickly drained away however; as he looked up to see the two persons standing near the entrance of his shop. There was a clattering of belongings as his arms went limp, and he dropped all that he carried.

"Havard," Amelie smiled, "Nice to see you again." His smile was nervous and uncertain, as he glanced between the beaming Amelie, and Annalise, whom... well, if looks could kill. "Your loss was quite a blow to our profits." The younger vampire got straight to the point, "But as a man of such talent, a tradesman so renowned for his value, I will assume it was simply an honest mistake on your part. I'm sure we can work something out." Annalise's deathly glare slowly directed itself towards her sister.

"Everything you lost is returned." Annalise interrupted before Amelie could continue, "An additional sum of 200 pieces for travelling expenses. We keep our money, you keep your life. I would see this as a fair deal." She approached Havard, hand outstretched. "I suggest you go and get what you can before this place collapses in on us." The man gulped, nodding his head before scuttling off.

Amelie chuckled slightly before sighing, "I was expecting resistance, I admit. I thought he'd refuse, or try to convince us he had no mon-" There was a faint click of a latch, inaudible to any normal human, but the pair heard it clear enough. One rolled her eyes, the other clapped her hands in anticipation, "Oh, he continues to surpass my expectations." She chuckled, before Annalise made after him.

Instead of racing off, Amelie remained for a moment, sparing a brief look around the store. The interior was quite damaged, though the fire had yet to spread to the building. One could assume Havard was preparing to leave as he gathered whatever necessities he could from the store’s own stock. Amelie waltzed over to his things, brushing a disinterested foot through the pile to have a look – not that she was at all curious. Most of it was expensive… as expected; a shame it would go to waste.

The store was of no use to them anymore, not in this state; it would be best that they simply cut their losses and moved on. Even should Glewick recover, it would take a long time for it to become a prominent trade hub again – a wasted investment in her eyes. Amelie raised her hands, and with a quick flash of blue, sent sparks cascading about the room, igniting small fires that would quickly spread across the dry wood interior - what remained of this shop would be just another victim of the city's desolation.

With a sniff and a sigh, she made for the rear exit of the store, to follow after the others. Their scents still carried heavily in the air, even as the smoke and smell of burnt flesh filled her nostrils and threatened to choke her lungs; and the vampire could follow them easily enough, but she was in no rush. No doubt Annalise had already caught Havard and was scolding him into a state of absolute terror; they had no desire for him to attempt this with them a second time, else-wise the punishment would be vastly more severe – though neither did they have any further use for him anymore. With their scents still being discernable, at least to a vampire that recognised them, Amelie had no trouble making her way through the streets at a leisurely pace. 'Twould be unlike her to be seen going any faster than a comfortable and relaxed stroll, and yet even as she practically glided with elegance, she gave off such a commanding and authoritative aura. Perhaps it was her illustriousness, perhaps her expression, but it was undeniable that people seemed to unconsciously mind her and move out of her way – at least they would have, were it that any remained in the ruined city.
------
Annalise's hand gripped the Berenian’s shirt, the thin fabric threatening to tear at the slightest tug, "You've some gall." She pushed him roughly against the brick wall of the alley, the rough clay scratching painfully against his shirt and back, making tiny rips in the cloth. Havard visibly winced from the impact, and the sight made Annalise even angrier. "Pathetic." She released his shirt, though remained dangerously close to the 'thief'. Annalise drew her blade with a swift motion, the cold silver pressing dangerously against his throat. The man paled, his eyes wide and ghostly, as he pushed his wide figure against the wall, trying to escape the sting of the blade point. A drop of blood dripped from his neck where the skin had been pricked, which Annalise eyed as it travelled his nape before continuing passed his collar. "I should rend your head from your neck." Her steely gaze returned to his eyes, silver fury blazing within them as he stared in terror, a rage far more fearsome than the scene that ravaged the city.

"N-no, it won't h-happen again. I s-s-swear." He stuttered out painfully, the sword point restricting his movement.

"Indeed it won't." Amelie chuckled, arms crossed. Havard’s panicky eyes turned to face her, though Annalise kept her sight fixed on him, having heard her sister’s approach. "In fact, it can't happen again if you are dead." Her cruel smile widened somewhat, before she rolled her eyes, sighing mockingly, "But we don't want to kill you." Annalise scoffed, "I don't want to kill you... yet." The vampire shrugged, coming closer, "It would be troublesome, and besides I like your candour." She chuckled again, shaking her head somewhat, before adopting a deathly expression. "Cheat me again and I shall." Amelie came close to Havard, her eyes alone petrifying the man, "You will be gutted and left for the eldritch horrors to feast on your innards whilst you still live, and when close to death I will only do my utmost to have you survive in agony for as long as possible." Her appearance certainly did not suit this side of her, a most vicious and dark expression on her face. As quickly as it came though, it was yet again replaced by her playful smile. "So let's not have a repeat occurrence, yes?" She stepped back a few paces, and Annalise reluctantly sheathed her sword.

"O-of course, Lady Amelie. It won’t happen again, I s-swear.” He stuttered, hand instinctively reaching up to and rubbing his bleeding neck.

“Yes,” She spoke distractedly, “You said that already.” Her expression took on a different manner. It seemed… almost alien, but as she stared down at the frightened man, she could see him as nothing more than prey. “Lady Amelie.” She grinned. Anna took a step forward in protest, but it went ignored, “Nobody has called me that in a long time,” Her smile widened, baring a set of inhumanly sharp incisors, “A very long time.”

Havard’s face paled, his heart threatened to stop, “V-vam-“ He was cut short, a set of claw-like nails gripped his throat tightly, deepening the wound, causing it to bleed a little more profusely.

“Now, don’t go spreading the news.” The crimson liquid trickled down from her finger tips, a line trailing to her wrist before dripping to the ground. The vampire released her grip, holding her hand up as though it had been dirtied. “Luckily for you I’m not hungry.” She turned away, glowering at her bloodied fingers.

Anna would have killed him at this point, but she too turned away from the merchant and began to follow after her sibling, a dangerous scowl on her face.

Havard was speechless, and as he made to sigh his relief… he realised he couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe at all, and parts of his body began to feel numb. First his tongue, then his hands and feet; when the feeling drained from his legs the man collapsed on the ground. That’s when the pain started, an excruciating, agonising pain spreading to all corners of his body. His heart felt like it would explode, his eyes had begun to bulge in their sockets, bloodshot and strained; his face had begun to discolour, at first red, slowly changing hue to that of a dark purple, all veiny and stressed.

The human began to cough and retch, blood and bile being forced up his throat and into the dry earth. Everything felt hot, his ears were ringing, and all he could feel was the unbearable searing pain coursing through him. His body was viciously convulsing, blood now trickling from his nose and ears as the retching stopped, and slowly so did the convulsing… and all that remained of Havard Elgebrecht was a bloody, unsightly corpse bereft of all respectability and all dignity, blood still pooling from his gory visage.

Amelie walked away, ignoring the audible suffering of the man, and pulled a small silk handkerchief from within her dress. The vampire wiped the blood from her hand, the crimson liquid threatening to stain if she let it dry. It wasn’t just blood though. If one looked closely, her nails were coated in a thin, colourless liquid, which she cleaned off also. The vampire brought her nails up into the sunlight, though it was mostly blocked by the great billows of smoke that choked the city, before returning her handkerchief to its pocket.

The elder caught up to her sibling, placing a firm grip on her shoulder, fingers pressing tightly into the younger vampire’s muscle. “Amelie!” She snapped, eyes burning with animosity, “That was-“

“Monstrous?” Amelie scoffed, turning on her sister with a look that could only be described as bitter disbelief, “Don’t you assume you uphold some kind of moral justice Anna, you and I both know just how monstrous you can be.”

The scowl on Annalise’s face only deepened, “Unnecessary,” The vampire finished, lips curling upward, “What in hell has gotten into you lately?” She growled, her face contorted with frustration, “I did not raise you to be so cruel.“

“You did not raise me at all!” Amelie roared, her expression awash with a bitter rage that she had withheld for so long, her voice threatening to quiver as her eyes glossed over, though the pure ferocity of her tone was not lost, “You were never there-“

SMACK!

Anna stared at her younger sister, her face a mixture of shock, anger and… guilt? No. Even as Amelie held a hand to her cheek, stunned by her sister’s actions, Anna was not in the wrong.

“Do not so easily cast aside all that I have done for you.” She seethed, voice dripping with abhorrence and accusation, “You have become so enamoured by your own trickery that you fail to realise you have disillusioned even yourself.” She bit, taking an aggressive step towards her sister, “Don’t play the victim, Amelie. It is beneath you.”

The younger vampire lowered her hand, meeting her sister's glare, "You're right." Amelie pushed past her sibling, marching aggressively back to the market square, "I guess I'll work on that." She called back, not sparing a second glance. To solve an issue, one must first identify the source of the problem. Then one must uproot and destroy it. Amelie's expression darkened. She had already identified the source, now all that was left was to be rid of it - entirely.

frakncheese · Feb 11, 2018

Calliope No, Outside Glewick

"Madness, that old friend..." Cal murmurs under his breath, expression darkening. In a rare moment of (some degree of) lucidity, he glances up at his staring match combatant and waves her over. "Come, sparrow-eater. We can finish our game later; I think it wise to see where this bird is flying." He offers his most teasing smile, perhaps cheapened by the fact that his hair remains a mess. "Or have you a prior engagement?"

Without waiting for an answer, Cal follows behind the child, trying not to think too much on... well, much of anything. The trouble with mental clarity is that he understands so much. Like the abject terror trapped in Lloyd's dull eyes as Cal tried to heal him. For all his talent and power, there was nothing Cal could do to set a still heart beating again. Certain, too, is the loss of everything Lloyd knew, a cultural amalgam of medical research written in tomes now sent up in ash. Or dust? Or only air? Difficult to say, though Cal has the impression one of those answers was correct. Whatever correct means, in any case, as knowledge is hardly something to be relied on. Any madman will tell you: there's not much truth to truth. Where was he? Oh, yes, the girl.

Her incessant chant unnerves him, and in an effort to break it he asks, "What am I to call this bloody falcon? A name might make me call you, and with calls wit entertain ♫. May wit bring forth a knowledge, and knowledge friendship gain ♫."

ShadTheWerepire · Feb 12, 2018

No no no no no. Shae panicked as Cal invited her to join him as he walked toward the dead girl wandering away from them. Crazy was attracting crazy, and Shae wasn't sure she was ready to watch her crazy die. She had no idea where the bloody child was going, but no child in that condition would be cognitive enough to speak so clearly with such conviction about dark, dark things. That child reeked of death, and no person, insane or sane, should follow them to their own doom.

The cat darted down the tree. She bounded to Cal's side tangling herself in his legs to hold him back.

Don't be her friend, be my friend. She meowed obnoxiously, begging for attention over the girl to protect the stranger. Shae decided not to change forms for now, she felt like being a human was useless in this situation, talking wouldn't help the situation at all.

frakncheese · Feb 12, 2018

Cal blinked and missed the orange blur streaking down the tree and around his legs. As his ankle came into contact with her soft body, he instinctively buckled his leg to avoid kicking something so delicate. This sudden shift of weight sent him tumbling forward, narrowly missing the girl he was walking behind. Breaking his fall with one arm and then rolling over into a sitting position, he gave Shae a confused look before laughing. He reached over and pulled the feline into his arms, attention fully diverted from the mourning dove walking down the path.

"Birdbane," he crooned to his new companion, "let me peep at you, though you'd be stirred and souped to eat me!" As he stroked the cat under her chin, he was aware of the makeup of her body. He was especially attentive to her feet, worried that the claws might have been damaged by her dash down the tree. "Your sort are such walls! You resist my intuition. I cannot grawp the concept, but someway you are no ordinary kitten, ah?"

It was something about her head, perhaps, where the soul was kept. It thrummed with a potential for change.

WlfSamurai · Feb 13, 2018

Amelie and Annalisa, deep in the city you’ve seen the carnage. The two of you now have full attention on the environment. Charred bodies line the streets and destroyed buildings. The smell of burnt flesh and boiled blood is stifling. The last smoldering embers crackle in the silence of the city.

And yet, there is a greater threat here.

As you draw deeper into the city, away from the square, there is a pressure on your consciousnesses. Something is grating against your minds. Were it not for the both of you being vampires, it would have begun much earlier and been far harsher. With each clop of your horses’ hooves you can feel a tension. Something—not quite a voice, not quite a feeling—is probing your very thoughts. It’s like black tendrils pressing into soft tissue without mercy.

Ahead and to your right, the ivory church stands untainted. Beyond the church, much farther down the lane, a squat grey keep sits in shadow. With each step closer to the church or keep, the presence pushes deeper into your mind.

Wackadoodle0987

————————————————————————————

Cal and Shae, you sit together in the grass. The blood-covered girl behind you treads further into the open plain. If she has noticed your tumble, she makes no sign of it. Instead, a knife appears in her hand from where she had hidden it. When she's farther from you her pace picks up. She’s running.

Then she falls to her knees, her body swaying. You can’t make out much looking at her from behind, but she seems in conflict. She raises the knife up, her hands trembling. It’s clear the way she’s holding it that she’s going to plunge it into her own breast. But, there is hesitation in her trembling hands.

ShadTheWerepire ,

frakncheese

————————————————————————————

Raes hands you your weapons, Ash.

“You’re looking much better, lass,” he says. Then he turns and looks each of you in the eye. “If we don’t make it back…” he starts. “If we don’t… Listen, it’s been an honor, these last few days. Something isn’t right anymore.” He scratches the back of his head. “I’m just glad to be doing something in the middle of it rather than sitting at home waiting for it to come to me, is all.” He shakes his head, unsatisfied with how he said what he meant. Then he turns to head back into the wagon.

“Dad,” says Gillie. “Don’t talk like that. We’ll make it. We’re not here to join a war. We’re here looking to see what’s happening.” She puts her hands on her hips. “Along those lines, I think we push through. We’ve come this far, we might as well just get it over with.”

Teh Frixz ,

PJ-Flash , @JohnEgbert,

Grammatic ,

Aimless Vagabond ,

Epiphany

Grammatic · Feb 13, 2018

Tanner by this time had disappeared into the wagon itself, carefully moving supplies and other things aside to make a small alcove for himself. His bow sits on his lap, and he stares at it endlessly. Seeing that two...it brought back memories he had so long tried to forget. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was fire. And the screams... Deafening and consuming, he could hear nothing but the screams.

"Please...please let her go. She is just a child, she doesn't kno..." The voice shocks Tanner for a second, snapping up and drawing the knife hidden just inside his cloak. Realizing it was just a memory, Tanner falls back down, the knife falling from his hand and clattering on the ground.

He wraps his arms around his knees, his chin resting on them as he stares across the darkened wagon.

"Please forgive me...please forgive me..."

Ronan · Feb 14, 2018

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[/div]'Thank you,' she graces, taking back her Caladborg with a bow. The weight of her bifurcated blade was a welcome feeling in her hands. Granted, she was only in Deep Woods for a day at most, but it feels like she was parted for longer than that. Time seemed seemed unable to touch the forest. Now, with her weapons back, she slides her rapier on one side of her hip and the gladius on the other where it sits comfortably to be drawn again.

With a final adjustment of her blades, she pats the rest of herself down (why? She's not sure. Something about surprised missing limbs seemed to be the reason), and looks down the caravan, her eye-line following the tops of the wagons looking for the right one. She stops at the middle wagon, the one she jumped out of only moments ago, and like the forest, Ash wasn't sure how much time passed between her collapsing and now. She remembers the mere moments before, the night of the bonfire, Iiolete drawing a Wheel of Fortune in the dirt (which she criticised harshly), Finch crying, the arguing—the incessant arguing that made her head spin—and a light on a faraway hilltop coming closer. Beyond that, her memory was a haze, but one thing was for sure: that night was the worst and the last of her pain.

With her her gaze now on the middle wagon, it flits around for it's target, the elf. Ash noticed the elf when she woke up, but didn't notice the elf. She was too busy basking in the excitement of her leg and unburdening the party; but with the excitement gone, she realised she erred on a crucial step: to thank her. It was out of character for Ash to not thank someone, so she sought rectify the mistake. The front wagon continues rattling on with Gillie and Raes, but before she can leave them, she catches Raes' murmurings. 'It?' Ash questions. 'What is this "It" waiting to get you?'

Now she was dissecting, pressing on the words from the father and daughter: It. Making it back. The war. What was really happening in Oakheart? Ash was about to dissect the case even more, but a dull thud of something hitting the ground grabs her attention. 'Iiolete, if that's you—' she warns, but past the wagons and on the plains is a woman in a bloody-stained white gown on her knees and mouth hanging open.

Ash is sure she's imagining it. An old mind dreams, but before she can uncover the true reality, the woman holds a knife to her breast, and Ash is instantly on the move.

She weaves behind Raes' wagon, but the sound of a please forgive me, please forgive me stops her. Another dream? She presses her forehead and prays for both to disappear. These were strange lands for the old. The forest outside of time, the ivory church, the woman, and the voice. Ash almost feared that none of this was real and that she was on her ship in a deep sleep with Herla unable to wake her. 'Do you hear the mantra?' she asks everyone. 'Or see—' the woman alone on the prairie, she wants to say.

WlfSamurai /

Epiphany /

Teh Frixz /

Grammatic

Wackadoodle0987 · Feb 14, 2018

The horses were growing restless - frightened even, and the further they went into the city the more reluctant they were to proceed. Anna knew why; it was like she was ripping weeds from her own mind, tearing at this incessant gripping feeling that pressed and writhed against her. She could handle it, but the horses... they could not. "This evil is growing." She spoke, her gaze settled on the yet unmarred church not far in the distance, it's ivory steeple still standing tall and... almost radiant - it was aggravating.

Amelie refrained from responding for a few moments, letting the silence linger and her continued temper be known, "Yes," She relented, "We should leave the horses." They had both though it, and immediately dismounted, unstrapping their belongings and even the saddles and blinders. As the sisters stepped back, the horses bolted in the opposite direction, racing away from the centre of the city. The steeds had served them well during their time, but neither sister had any intent on retreating on their behalf, nor spending the time to walk them back to a 'safe' distance.

They dragged most of their things to the edge of the street, saddlebags and equipment, and Anna loosely covered them with bits of strewn wood and stone. Not wholly out of sight, but dusted enough to seem another part of the chaotic scenery. "The Church?" She looked beyond it, a keep sitting patiently in its shadow, "Or there?"

A cruel grin spread across Amelie's features, "I've always been intrigued by the humans' infatuation with their 'gods', let us see how well their faith has served them." The younger vampire paced towards the church, with every step of her approach causing a faint increase in the pressure on her mind. She chuckled to herself, mocking the efforts of whatever force this was. Hers would be a consciousness hard pressed to overcome, it was her very way of life to remain a master of her own psyche and to dominate others'... she would not succumb to such weakness, and her focus would not falter.

"There may be those whom have taken refuge within," Annalise suggested, the two drawing ever closer, "Their minds may not be their own." Indeed, most likely they would not be. Any survivors of the initial destruction, however that came about, so close to the source of this gripping feeling would likely have been overcome - the vampires were both trained and experienced, but most importantly very old... and they knew how to remain in control of themselves, to a human, or any primitive creature, they would have succumbed much faster - and it had been days already.

They at last reached the ivory chancel, it being all the more egregious up close. The sisters unconsciously turned their noses up at the structure, and the humans for their petty beliefs. The weak take solace in their fantasies of great beings that guide them on a certain path, but the truth is far more bitter. Nobody cares, and those that created them less so. Amelie wondered how many humans still knew of the Elders and their betrayal; was it a tale twisted and told to frighten children? The war against the Lesser Races, the departure of the Elders... her sister's disappearance.

Anna grimaced, giving Amelie a brief look, "It is no god that kept this place untouched." She pushed the door ajar, and both sisters stepped within.

ShadTheWerepire · Feb 14, 2018

I am a special kitten. Shae echoed the words of Cal as she purred in the arms of her new best friend. She didn't squirm when he initially grabbed her and welcomed the comfort of touch, it was far better to be petting her than chasing the zombie.

As the girl prepared to kill herself, Shae didn't even notice. If anyone was going to save the girl, it would have to be someone else. The pets were so nice, a scratch on her chin, the prodding of her paws. What a reward for saving him from the deathly girl! She hadn't been held like this in an age. When was the last time she interacted with a human like this? No one had been too keen on her bear form. The snapping turtle stint before that didn't help her gather affection either. She was determined to take this cat form more often if it meant she received pets.

frakncheese · Feb 19, 2018

Cal's absent-minded scritches slow down as he notices the girl's change in pace, and halt entirely at the glint of steel in her hand. Still holding Shae carefully - she could easily escape and he wouldn't stop her - he hoists himself to his feet and calls out to her. "Was I meant to play thief and watchman with you, mourning dove? I'm sorry I did not give chase." She gives no indication that she heard his gentle voice, so he begins walking toward her, calling out more loudly. "Stay your hand a stay, girl! It's not my place to talk of reason, but trust as I do that self injury is rarely in its purview. If you drop your glorral blade, I'll play with you. At least wait until I have your name!"

He isn't too concerned. He knows he can just heal her, provided he gets there in the seconds before her heart stops beating around the sharp blade. But he has no desire to run so quickly, or to see more fresh blood, or to fail, so talking her down as best he can is the first course of action.

Epiphany · Feb 20, 2018

Cassie looks upon Glewick's ruin and the standing church with a vague sense of hope mingled with foreboding.

At least the woman she healed was well again. The elf's gaze drifts to the striking woman with her reacquired blades before shifting her attention back to the father and daughter pairing. Gillie in particular made Cassie feel protective, for she remembered the girl when she'd been a girl.

A glance back at Ash catches the human looking at her and there's something in the woman's gaze that unsettles Cassie so she breaks eye contact and looks instead back to the fields around the wrecked city of Glewick. At which point she spots a woman in a white gown, seemingly wounded. Ash's instant reaction likewise stirs the elf to motion and Cassie is the first off the wagon to investigate. A vague sense of unease presses against her mind, as if Glewick itself has a certain weight to it. Surely it's just the implicit horror of what happened to it.

What happened to the woman in the gown is certainly explicit and the elven Wizard cautiously approaches the bloody victim, hands slightly spread as she says "I'm here to help. Will you let me help you?"

WlfSamurai · Feb 21, 2018

Amelie and Annalisa, you both step into the Church. What you find would bring any mortal to their knees. Thankfully, neither of you are mortal.

You step into the narthex and find the walls and floor spattered with blood. Bodies of men and women lie lifeless on the old tile. Their blood has drained out in a pool around them. On closer look, the bodies have chunks ripped out of them, as if a creature took bites out of them.

Inside the chapel proper is more of the same. Dead people line the pews and floors. Many of the bodies have been mutilated or torn to shreds.

Then, movement catches your eye. Near the alter, a figure is crouched over a woman’s body. It’s ripping flesh from her bones and shoving it into its mouth. It stops and slowly turns toward you both. It’s eyes are bloodshot and yellow and wide with madness. This was once a man. Though still living and shaped like a human, this thing is less and more. A monster. It wears what was once the holy robes of a priest. Now, the robes have been tainted with blood and sinew. A piece of raw human meat hangs from its mouth. It rises slowly, keeping it’s eyes locked on you both, like a predator ready to pounce.

Wackadoodle0987

—————————————————————————————————

The bloodied girl’s body shakes as she struggles with her internal battle of wills. Her blade glistens in the moonlight. She hears Cal and Cassie speaking to her. Her concentration is broken and she turns to look who speaks.

To you, Cassie, the girl begins her chant anew. “Praise be to he who ravages the corpse and damns the soul. Praise be to he who rends the flesh and splits the mind. Praise be to he who loves none and curses all. Praise be to the father of death, suffering, and madness. For in madness, ye shall find end. And all end is sacred, for it feeds the maw who’s lust for flesh and soul knows no bounds.”

Then, she stops. You see her face contort as she struggles to control herself. She raises the dagger again, ignoring you all. And then, You see her lift it higher to drive it down into her chest.

She is about to stab herself. If you wish to stop her, now is the chance.