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Fantasy Banners & Blood (Closed)

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Ash follows a trail of broken glass through the city of mummified remains and falling skies where the soot decorates the air like the morning before Adar. Winter. It lands on her eyelashes and buries in her clothes and fades into her hair as snow would, and the soot is a welcomed feeling against the heat of the city, still fresh from it's wounds.


The trail of glass continues off the main road and Ash follows it. Follows it all the way to the end of the lane, 3 RUE D'GARRON, and at the end is a cottage with a half-collapsed roof. The cottage is also missing all it's windows, and its no doubt the culprit of the glass trail. Ash walks across the serrated shards to the front door and gives the briefest of knocks. She knows there's no one inside, but she was raised with polity and integrity and faith. After all these years, it's still ingrained in her: please, thank you, I apologise, sir, and ma'am- and habits are hard to break. She knocks again and when no one answers, Ash turns the knob and steps forward and through.

Between one stride and the next, dreary Glewick City became elegant Annas. The charred floorboards of gave way to bright fields of poppies and honeyed air, and the groaning of timber was replaced by the sound of bells and nine figures wearing red veils and silver masks and looking throughly regal. Ash was wearing a red veil and silver mask, too, and hers was the face of leaves growing from her eyes. The last figure was a woman in a red ballroom gown holding a bushel of poppies and wearing a crown of thorns. She was imposing as she was commanding.

And Ash took a step forward, the veils of red and poppies evaporating into the comfortless world again. The wash-out world of Glewick City, just as it became elegant Annas.

Ash stands alone in the cottage with a broken bed and smashed plates and silverware, and her forehead is lined with confusion. Strange. Ash had no bad memories, no bad dreams, nothing that haunted her at night when she slept. An anomaly to be sure, but Ash has learned to move on. Not to forgive and forget, but to move on. Time heals all wounds. To her, the dream of Annas was a scene out of time. Something that happened too long ago for her to attach emotion to, except names. Annas Field.

Ash took another step into the cottage and felt her foot kick something. A book. She picks it up and dusts the soot off the cover to reveal a half-burnt picture of a dryad reaching for the water and it was pretty. A children’s book, maybe. A fairytale of a dryad and something else. Children's books were pieces of knowledge, too; however odd it may be. They were made from war and suffering- allegories of history and romanticised into small morals and good vs. evil narratives. In the end, children's books were kindness in a dark world. Something to hold onto like a flicker of light in a basement. Ash opened the book to the first page only to discover it was too burnt to be legible. She flipped to the next page and found another picture in it, albeit, a half-burnt of a dryad with camellias in her hair. The rest of the book was the same: burnt, ineligible, and always a dryad.

Ash pictured the previous owner picking flowers in the plains outside Glewick City and imitating the dryad, and for that, she wanted to know the fairytale. She willed the faded words to appear, but they stayed the same, half-letters and sentences unable to be pieced together.

The book was tucked away in a pocket of her tailcoat and she took one last look at the cottage, still the same- dilapidated and broken. Ash took another step inwards, willing another memory of Annas to appear- if only for a moment, and she longed to wear her red veil and silver mask again, but it never came. Only the sound of silence and soot falling before her eyes. So with dream gone, Ash turns to leave the cottage and closes the door with a Click.
 
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The blade pressed deeply into her breast, puncturing the leather, such as was the strength of a vampire. Anna looked into the young woman's eyes as her sword pierced her heart, they bulged for a moment from the shock, before closing as she lost consciousness entirely. The vampire withdrew her blade, tearing a scrap of cloth from the deceased creature's marred shirt and wiping the blood away.

"Pitiful." Amelie uttered, looking over at the dying monk from where she now stood, hand relaxed lazily on her hip.

"She did not beg for her life," Anna scathed, accosting her sibling, "There was dignity in her death. Leave it at that."

Amelie chuckled, "She did not beg because she could not form the words for which to do so," Her hand dropped, before she raised it to brush her fringe aside, letting her fingers rest behind her ears for a moment, "The look in her eyes said enough. Humans are so afraid of death, one can't expect much else from them."

There came an irritated click of the tongue from Anna, but the elder vampire said no more on the matter. She sheathed her silver blade, and turned to her sister, "Come." Annalise gave a last glance at the monk. Her slow breathing had ceased, and her heartbeat had stopped. Anna dipped her head slightly, and continued on towards the stairs those creatures had so recently ascended. "Let us see what hides beneath."

The younger sibling followed in tow, her eyes drifting to the now lifeless young woman and the gaping wound in her throat. Amelie inhaled deeply, grimacing from the smell. "Bad blood." There were more important things than young monks that fail to understand the dangers of the world, more important things than ruined cities and despoiled chancels. Amelie had a far greater sight in mind, one that she would stop at nothing to reach... and no worldly evil nor great peril would stand in her way. "You are but dust and smoke, little human; the heatless remnants left in the wake of a ruinous blaze. Many will fall at my feet before my dream is realised, and I shall bear no regret." The vampire leaned down, dipping her finger intrusively into the woman's wound, and with the blood painted a small mark on her forehead. The mark of the betrayed.
 
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This was all too familiar. The death, the destruction, the crushing, grasping tendrils of some otherworldly horror slowly worming into his mind. Elias had been here before; he had experienced this nightmare so many times before. Perhaps it was all the same nightmare, repeating itself over and over and over until something inside him breaks, yet he knows he is already broken. So what, then? What could his nightmare possibly want from him?

He could hear it again. See it, feel it beneath his trembling, blood-soaked hands. That horrid ripping as sharp metal teeth met with the carcass at his feet. When had it gotten there? Elias couldn't remember. How long had he been standing there, using the broken tool of a smith to rend the flesh of this beast? No, no; it was no beast. It was a child, dressed in decadent green clothing, now stained black with blood...wasn't it? It looked more like a fellow Hunter, now, wearing the same long cloak he always sported. It kept moving, squirming, even when it was no more than a lump of ruined meat, and yet Elias could not comprehend it.


The horrid ripping, grinding sound continues, and Elias can feel eyes watching him. So many eyes. He looks up from the corpse and sees a woman, standing on a never-ending field of ice, snow whipping about her viciously. She was completely covered in dull white robes, so much so that her entire form was obscured, yet Elias knew it was a she. Who else could it be but that damned woman?


More ripping, more grinding, metal meeting metal meeting bone, now. Something drips onto Elias's head, cold and thick. He looks up to see a ruined corpse grinning back down at him, eyes gone and skin rotted away, revealing gray, fetid flesh. It hangs by one foot, the other crossed along the bound leg. It won't stop smiling, grinning that sly, knowing, horrible smile.


"Welcome back, dear boy," The corpse says in a smooth, sickening voice, black fluid dripping from its absent eyes. "You honestly didn't think you could leave, could you? Oh, no, you'll always find a way back. Such is your fate, after all. I know it."


The ripping and grinding has stopped, replaced with the dry crunch of old bones. "That reminds me," the corpse continues in its enticing, disgusting tone, "the other one joined us not too long ago. He has a great deal he wants to say to you, you know. He is not very happy. Why don't you go and say hello to him?"


Elias looks back to the field of ice, the robed woman now replaced by a giant, mangled body of some long-dead creature. Its hairless skin is frozen blue, two of its four thin arms exposed down to the bone in some places, jutting out uselessly in the air behind it as it lays on its stomach. It has no face, only a deep, black, endless hole on its head. Something in the hole beckons to Elias, and he stumbles towards it, snow ripping away at his face.


Suddenly, the weight in his hands grows heavier. Elias looks down to see the ruined tool replaced by his whirligig saw, his symbol, his livelihood, and a burst of clarity crosses his mind.


...What was I doing?

A blink of the eyes and shake of the head snapped Elias back to reality, standing over a charred timber that had fallen by the roadside. His saw was in his hands; he had been hacking away at the timber for some time now. The caravan was still close by, but from what he could hear the rest weren't faring any better. He had his mind fortification magic to thank for his sudden return to reality—it would keep him sane, so long as his mind remained, and even after it would keep him functioning as a hunter, for better or worse.

Slipping the head of his saw back into its harness and separating it from the long-handled mace, Elias moved to rejoin the caravan and see if he couldn't shake the others loose of the creature's grasp.
 
Shae remained by Cal's side as they entered the hell hole she had just escaped. Why were they so curious? The only itch she had was that creeping one in the back of her head indicating there was mind magic here, dead mind magic. Crazy would be fine though, Shae thought to herself, you can't make crazy go more crazy. The pressure of the madness was pressing in though, and while shae's constitution and wisdom was high it still wasn't a match for this mind altering fog. She noted that what ever this darkness was, it felt just like tenta-shrooms taking hold, roasted ones. As her vision slipped in and out.

She was in the cleric's chambers. There were no windows, only the one, presumably locked, door to the left of her. Now she knew it was unlocked, but today she wouldn't be escaping.

No, she could escape as she pleased, she wasn't there, this is an entirely different city. They could all be in danger, she couldn't just let the high take her while her new friend was at risk. But Cal seemed unphased. Maybe for a moment, she could slip back in. Let it take her

She was chained to the bed again, her right arm so swollen the restraints were straining against the sickly purpled flesh. Gnome's Knives, she recounted that particular plant reaction, the thorny bush was common in Auren, many children would get stung and from that point on be careful to avoid it. She hadn't done this to herself, no, her entire right arm was swollen, thorns still poking out in a perfect grid pattern. The kind, loving cleric had done this.

Cal had run off ahead, Shae was somewhere between the two groups, but still wandered forward in her zombied state. She limped slightly as her right front paw felt the weight of the Gnome's Knives.

The door creaked open, Shae's heart race picked up and she jolted her head away from the door, she couldn't lay eyes on that woman. Not after being away for so long.

"My little Shae-leaf, Oh your arm looks bad today." The cleric wandered to the back of the room before approaching the right side of the bed. "I can fix that." She warned as she began plucking each thorn out with methodically agonizing slowness. The barbed tip of the thorns reopening the puncture holes and leaving the blood to pool and tickle down her lumpy misshapen arm. Shae winced with each pluck but dared not to cry out.

She heard someone else crying. Her new friend. She must have caught up to him in her trance. He was frazzled, attempting to heal what looked like her injured paw. She slowly realized the pain was gone, her paw was never injured in the first place. She didn't have a paw in the vision, she had a human hand. That was the madness

Cal started screaming as he fled on all fours. No, Shae wasn't going to let him go like this, maybe crazy could go more crazy. Shae padded over and jumped on top of his back to apply her own pressure, maybe her strange presence would calm him or bring him slightly more back to reality.
 
Amelie and Anna:

After killing the young ex-monk, you both move to head downstairs. But something changes. The pressure—something both pressing and stabbing your thoughts, probing for a way in—even for your supernatural minds grows nearly unbearable. Whatever it is here in this city, it has gotten dangerously close.

The feeling draws you outside. Nearby, you find the rest of the caravan from the day before.

—————————————————————————————————

Everyone:

You all find your various ways into the city, together for the most part. The mind pressure is growing as you get deeper into the city. Nearby, the two sisters from the previous day, Amelie and Anna step out of the church.

Raes and Gillie have stopped their wagon. Both are clutching their heads and tearing at their hair. The presence in this city is openly assaulting your minds at this point. For the ordinary mind, it is maddening.

And then you all see it.

What seems to be a pile of bodies—or at least their parts—heaping through the marketplace and into the square. Its a kind of rolling where the top bodies and parts fall and pull the rest forward. Most are naked. Most are dead. All have various limbs and parts broken or misshapen from misuse. Some of the bodies are screaming. Others are moaning. Most are silent.

Now, the pressure on your minds has become piercing knives and screams and pins and serrated blades and laughter and madness against your thoughts. It is pure emotion and hatred weaponized against your weaknesses, misgivings, and self-doubt.

MonsterBD.jpgThe bodies undulate, then part and separate. Each shambles in some way to form ranks, like misshapen soldiers. Through them, standing tall, arms folded behind its back, a horror strolls toward you all. It stops just in front of the first line of bodies. Glowing dots regard you all through empty eye sockets. The creature’s bone and flesh and sinew have melded together in a form of hardened outer shell with spines. It does not move what is left of its mouth when it speaks. Instead, you feel a sickening voice in your head. It feels like stinging bees and your brain burning. You can make out what it’s saying, though.

“I see you,” it says. “I see why you have come. It is folly. Your fate is sealed. Your mistake will be your last—“ It stops short. You all see what is left of its face turn toward you, Cassie. A hiss in all your minds turns into “Cassie. You should not be here.”

How do you know this thing, Cassie? Who was this at one point? Tell us.

Also, you all can act, but to take an action against this thing, you will have to describe the inner battle of wills and how you fight though it’s assault on your mind.

Teh Frixz Teh Frixz , Ronan Ronan ., Aimless Vagabond Aimless Vagabond , Wackadoodle0987 Wackadoodle0987 , Epiphany Epiphany , ShadTheWerepire ShadTheWerepire , frakncheese frakncheese
 
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Amelie's mind clouded, the ground beneath her feet shifted and groaned, pulsating with a singular heartbeat. Pools of flesh and blood had melded together, forming a gruesome living surface. Her bare feet no longer padded through carelessly. Every agitated step sickened the vampire, and she wished for nothing more than to be out of this church.

The vampire hurried outside, scraping her feet roughly against the dirt and stone before slipping her shoes back on, and returning her pins to her hair. Anna had followed her sibling, that same vicious probing burning her mind.

"It draws close." She muttered through gritted teeth, hand gripping her sword as though she could only think to cut away this evil's influence.

"It saw me, Anna," Amelie looked up at her sibling regretfully, features twisting with delusion, "The monk... I let it see my hate. I gave it its way in." The younger vampire grimaced, pushing back against the invasion.

The rolling caravan approached, drawing the girls' attention. It was those they encountered near the woods, though with a couple others in tow. It seemed they suffered this evil far worse than the vampires, half crazed as they clutched at themselves desperately. This creature, Amelie had known it before, they feed on one's fears and doubts. Amelie had no intention of being prey.

Her hatred for humans was no weakness. Her hatred for the Elders was no weakness. It drove her long life forward with purpose, and she would not see it ended here, unfulfilled.

The squelching and cracking and shuffling grew louder, as those present turned to face the approaching mass of corpses... and from behind came forth their enemy. Amelie could see it now, in all its grotesque horror, and through pained expression, the vampire strained a toothy smile. "You should not have shown yourself, Demon," It was far too late to bring back the merchant act now, "Stick to the shadows where you are safe. Now no unearthly power will stop the death you have so carefully sewn for yourself."

Amelie was talking to the caravan of people. That they had to show, and more importantly feel confidence. This creature would use everything it could against them. "You know nothing of my mind." She felt its claws stab deeper, and she allowed it, bringing the demon further into her mind. It's fleshy, marred face twisting into a grin, met by Amelie's own. Her grip tightened around him, "Found what you were looking for?" She stabbed deeply, the creature twisting against her, trying to tear away as it screamed inside her mind. It was deafening, and Amelie wanted nothing more than to clutch at her ears and retreat, but she held her resolve.

"And I shall bear no regret," She mumbled to herself, "I was abandoned and betrayed. I have grieved and I have loved." Her eyes stared into the hollow pits of the creature, "Know me demon, and see that I bear no weakness. You shall never have me." She dug deeper, wanting to hurt this demon more than anything. Amelie's eyes had glossed over, and the air around her crackled with energy. Anna could feel her armour growing hotter as the energy coursed around them.

The pain in her mind was excruciating as this creature searched for something. A memory perhaps, or a feeling. It would have noth-

There was a faint cry... a child - an infant. Her silver eyes flicked to the doorway, the cries sounding down the hallway. Anna never realised it was so difficult, she barely slept anymore and at times she wished for those calmer days she had spent alone.... without him.

The cries continued, and the vampire stood, she could not ignore it... did not want to. She loved him, more than she hated him; much, much more. The door was ajar - hot to the touch, but this feeling went unnoticed, as though it were normal. She smiled down in the crib, but the cries didn't stop. Her smile was straining.

"Won't you sleep?" The vampire brought the child close, cradling it against her breast, rocking as she paced the room slowly. Everything moved... wrongly, like a dream. Pieces were missing, as though it was put together in the wrong order. Anna could feel the wetness on her arms... silently cursing at the infant as she lifted it with hands outstretched.... only the wetness was not what she had expected. Her arms were covered in blood, thick and hot. The room began to grow unbearably hot, the child's skin bubbling and melting away, blood trickling down Annalise's arms as its flesh began to scab and crack. She was frozen in place, staring as her child burned before her, the room ablaze as her own skin grew painfully hot... and there he stood, echoing the words she hated with every ounce of her being, "I have sired an abomination." It rang in her ears over and over as all about turned to ash and smoke.

There wasn't even enough left to bury. It is but a wisp of a past she had tried desperately to forget. Anna had returned to her senses, still standing, with wet eyes trained on the demon. She was going to rip it apart.
 
Cassie saw her new companions struggle, stagger and fragment. The source was still distant for her, either due to her blood or her training. As the feeling of supernatural wrongness grew, so did her sense of apprehension. She mutters an arcane incantation and brandishes her palm, summoning her Furious Mote into existence. The winged ball of light seems curiously subdued, as if it lay under water and the sight perspective was distorted. At least it still spun about her, shedding sparking light to illuminate their path and presumably at her beck and call to intercept an arrow if some maddened Glewick citizen took a shot at her.

Much worse than madness lays ahead, though. The emergence of the two women, whom she hadn't met, scarcely registers in the elf's consciousness. Even the suffering of poor Raes and Gillie is a distant afterthought in the moment. The sight of the bodies instead brings back a horrified remembrance of a night she never wanted to think about again.

It hadn't been a pile of fresh bodies then. It'd been old bones. Old and broken and neatly arrayed in rows without an inch between them. Almost like a footbridge with railings of arms and legs and ribcages to hold up the feet. All those bones stretched across the unbroken soil of Ivers' ritual room, behind and beneath the basement chamber where he'd taught her the elements of High Sorcery, of the Old Magic, of the kind of Words uttered by forgotten gods that sparked the engine of the world into shuddering forward. She'd tasted the power over her years of apprenticeship, shared it with the handful of other apprentices Ivers had, all those who'd come and gone while she remained, always the student.

Always the sacrifice.

And the bodies rise, forming ranks before her. Again, she notices the two women from the church, knows she should say something. Knows she should say something to those back in the caravan. But words fail her. Like they failed her last time. Ivers had taught her wizardry but not compassion. That she'd had to learn, on her own, and she'd learned it too late.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

The undulating bones, stirred into a hellish life by what had been done to them, slowly rolled on top of each other. They shuddered and thudded together, grating dry dusty bone against the rocks strewn across the dirt floor deep beneath Ivers tower. Behind her, Tanner and Finch watched in mute horror. Horror she'd shared. Horror that'd grown when the bones formed a mouth, when dozens of skulls found dozens of jawbones and spoke. "Hungry. I'm so hungry. I was...I was...I was Knaack/Vance/Gygax/Weis/Hickman." Dozens of names, so many names dripped off the crumbly dry bones but when it resumed speaking, it spoke with one voice from many mouths. "I am hunger now. He took. He took from me, Cassie. What he took must be filled. I can't rest until-"

"You're Weis?" Cassie breathed, gasping, unable to find her wind from the shock of it. "And...Tommy, did I hear Tommy? You left a week ago!"

"Not left. None of us. He took us. Trained us. Trained us to drain us. Add us to his power. I am what he didn't want. Make me whole, Cassie. Fill me up?"

"I don't know how."

"You were his secret! His hope! A century spent making you his! With you, he could have...I don't know what he could have done. Become a God perhaps. You can do it, Cassie. You can fill me up, put back what he stole, put it back and survive what I-what we couldn't. You are a flame that can never die! Light me! Banish my shadow and end my suffering!"

Years ago. That was years ago. She hadn't known what to do then. Sick from Ivers' prepatory potion, nerves aflame from his half-completed ritual, barely standing only because she couldn't fall with Finch and Tanner depending on her after risking so much to save her. So they'd sealed it in. Sealed in this composite nightmarish undead composite. Sealed in all the horror Ivers had done to generations of wizard apprentices. Sealed it in to twist endlessly in its unsatisfied hunger.

It twisted no longer. The beast had a great body now, its bones and flesh and sinew twisted and woven together like a tailor vainly striving to patch what could never be mended. It had a form now, and a presence. If its presence beneath Ivers' tower had been whispers, the madness and mental anguish pushing at her mind now were a full-throated roar.

She hadn't filled it so it'd filled itself.

I see you,” it says. “I see why you have come. It is folly. Your fate is sealed. Your mistake will be your last—“ It stops short.

And Cassie meets the sparks of its eyes with horror of her own. Not of threat but of a shared pain, a shared history, shared victimhood. Whatever the hunger had been, its choices had killed an entire city and it had to be stopped. But it remained what it was; scores of innocent young men and women who didn't deserve what had happened to them.

"His words," she whispers to it.

"Cassie. You should not be here."

"I'm sorry I didn't know what to do with you, all those years ago," Cassie says. Despite the punishing buzzing hostility of its presence, enormously amplified by the sheer scale of death it'd wrought, the elf stood straight and tall in the face of it. "I'm so sorry. This...this isn't what you wanted. Any of you. He took your life, left you in a pile so that all you had left was each other and the hunger. And now you've exceeded even his evil. For I look at you, and I can see even now it wasn't enough. The hunger he left...a city of men, women and children and here you are, with that need in your eyes."

"I don't need your pity!" it roared. "I'm so much stronger than I was then! More clear! Not our thoughts but my thoughts. All of Glewick is mine now!"

"And whose desire was that?" Cassie slowly crosses the city square until she stands at the foot of the church. She reaches out for the wrought-iron fence, and her fingers caress a length of it. "Which of you wanted conquest? Rulership? Which of you wanted all this death and suffering?" The elf's caress turns into a lingering, sustained vibration, rubbing the stranded wrought-iron fencing like one might rub a crystal glass to get it to vibrate. And the fence vibrates now, much as a goblet would. "Which of you wanted what happened to you to happen to others? This isn't what you want! You suffered! I know! I was there! I would have been part of you too!"

"You still can be!" Bold words, sharp with threat, but without the substance of the hatred it had for others. They were victims, all of them, and they knew each other however inconvenient that shared history was.

"That's not what you really want. You want the hunger to end. Let me guess, some fool of an adventurer dug you up in hopes of treasure and you wrung him dry but it wasn't enough. Still hungry, you ate your way across the forests, snaring half a dozen hermits and hunters along your way but they weren't enough either. Then you found Glewick itself and a whole city lies consumed at your feet but you're still hungry! Feeding you won't end what you've become."

"Then what will?"

The question lay burning in the air, burning like Glewick burned, smoldering with the fires of old pain and never-settled sins. In answer, Cassie finishes her silent incantation and grips the once-blessed pure iron of the church, grips the length of railing that had slowly and methodically wound itself up into a light-absorbing mass of a black iron staff. With a single pull, she yanks it free and lifts it aloft. Fiery words fly off her lips, words Ivers taught her, words the Hunger knew as well as she does. Words that humans with their candle-length life could barely use. Words that from the lips of elven blood could shine like a lighthouse into the sky.

Her black staff flames into incandescence as Cassie bears it like the brilliant standard of church and country, a proclamation of life and hope in the horror of the Glewick's ruins. Where mortal eye falls upon it, the madness recedes, held at bay by the unfading light of an elf's lifespan. The flame forms bars and though the horror can reach through them, the greater weight of it is held at bay. For now.

"For the sake of those you once were, come to me. Come to me, Hunger. You won't be fed but you will be filled just as you once asked."

She'd learned compassion late, too late to save the Hunger the first time. Perhaps too late now as well. For the great mass given form in the blood and bones of Glewick's dead simply stands there, not flinching from her flame but eyeing it with avid Hunger, a slick awful greediness to drink her dry so large it bulges the skin-suit it wears.

Then its mind launches against Cassie's and hers rises to meet it on a immanifest plane while the Hunger's army marches towards those who might fuel its desperate fight for supremacy.

Hope you don't mind me hijacking things like this, WlfSamurai WlfSamurai but I got inspired. If you're cool with it, Cassie's spell has essentially bought all players enough mental 'space' to attack or defend without simultaneously fighting a mental battle, which she now fights on behalf of the whole party.
 
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The beast probed her mind, staking out her weakness with a pair of shears and trimming away the unnecessary. The unnecessary good which made her feel at peace, content - even alive - and Ash let it. Next to Elias she kneeled, digging her rapier into the dirt as she hid her face and closed her eyes, following the beast's trail though her mind as it squelched and ripped through her memories. Ash followed it through a red world- a red river, a red city, and red fields, then the trail became thinner and colourless. Ash followed it through the white, chasing it through bright world of her mind that pressed on her like a powerful wave. The creature clawed and shrieked against white, oppressive against it's blackened, marred body and Ash winced at the noise that attacked her skin like shards and reverberated through the walls of the white world. And as they balanced in the whiteness, the bottom of it became quicksand and started to pull them into it. The creature thrashed violently and Ash was grabbing for anything- anything to stop the slow sinking, but the paleness slipped through her fingers and the quicksand pulled her under and through.


Ash opened her eyes and saw more white. Not the bold white, splashed like paint over the buildings, but a subtle, pervasive tint, like she was looking through a pane of coloured glass. She tried to blink away the colour, but it lingered. She assumed the quicksand would transport her to a dark world- something that belongs to the creature. Now she can see she was wrong. The quicksand brought her to it's home.

She a drew a breath and tasted flowers on the air. Poppies. The scent was overpowering, verging on sickly sweet, like perfume, and Ash tightened her fingers around her chest, willing the aromatic air to disappear, and after a few moments, it calmed as her senses adjusted to her new surroundings, but when she drew too beep a breath, it assaulted her again. She coughed and lay still, on her back in Annas Field with her now white clothes spread beneath her on the ground like wings. But her home was not there.

Ash let out an exhale as she sat up and touched her skin, remembering. In this memory she was thinner, her cheeks hollow, and she wore silver bracelets that started her wrists and travelled all the way up her arms, ending at her neck. A yard away was the creature- but also not, and Ash stood and took her first step towards it, her stomach suddenly tightening painfully and Ash let out whimper, squeezing her eyes shut. Her clothes hid her fragile body - her thinness. In this memory she was weak, like another step would break her legs, but still, she pressed on, spine creaking and body protesting as moved towards the equally frail creature.

She kneeled down next to it, still holding her chest, pushing away the starvation. 'You won't find anything here,' she told the creature, now smaller and curled up amongst the ashen flowers. It became the shape of sadness, jagged claw-marks down it's back, hair forcefully ripped from it's head, and a diseased, pale grey skin. It whined, pulling the asphodels from the ground and Ash thought it a distinctly human act, 'White is cruel, isn't it?' she softened and the creature sobbed, hiding it's disgusting face and it's body convulsing as it shrunk in size. 'It empty and always cold and it drains. It drains,' and she briefly touched it's shoulder and the creature wrenched it away, pitiful and dying - dying amongst the cruelly beautiful white world of ash poppies. It moaned as it became thinner, every movement a burning sensation, and Ash felt it, too. The bracelets on her body shrinking, strangling her. The creature let out a deafening scream followed by complete silence where only Ash's ragged breaths and the creature's screams echoed quietly over and over again could be heard.

The flowers sneered.

If the world was abundant with magic and life, then it must be the colour of black for white was the colour of evil.

Ash shivered, her skin gnawing at her bones and eating away at her as she stood motionless and alone in the draining fields. The creature was gone from her mind. 'Toda,' she whispered to the flowers and she lay back down, letting the waving whiteness wash over her and bring her into the next world.

Next to Elias again, Ash stood with a new conviction in her eyes, staring down the newly formed ranks of soldiers and giant creature that loomed behind them all, now smaller in size. Weaker. She had defeated it in her own mind, and for that, the creature shied away from probing again. Shied away from Ash's white world.

Behind the creature were two travellers similar in appearance and battling the scourge of Glewick City. They must be the merchants Elias wanted to find, and they were powerful enough to hold their own, so Ash let them. While they battled the beast, she would thin it's ranks of soldiers that piled on each other and pushed ahead like a tide. The corsair drew her rapier and gladius, pointing the tips towards the surge of soldiers coming at them. In her chest, she felt a new kind of strength- one that didn't belong to her. A gentle pulsing and undulating of magic. Her leg- strange as it was- also started to pulse. The very same leg that was torn and later healed. Ash sensed magic and something else: apprehension, anguish, and most strange of all, compassion. Compassion that didn't belong to her. Compassion that was shared with her, compassion linked to someone else. A sharing of emotions, a sharing of everything.

The elf, Ash named, and she turned to the source, standing tall as a beacon of light in a dark city. She felt everything the elf felt.

The soldiers were coming closer, screeching and rabid. Ash turned back to face oncoming tide, eyes narrowed and weapons ready. Three feet away and she front-flipped over the first rank of soldiers, landing on the shoulder of one in the second row and driving her rapier all the way through it's skull. 'One!' she shouted at Elias, balancing on the now beheaded soldier's shoulders and simultaneously slicing both sides of her and taking down another two. 'Three!' She twisted her body and cut in front and behind her. 'Five!' And back-flipped off the first soldier she killed, it's body finally hitting the ground.
Aimless Vagabond Aimless Vagabond who can kill more soldiers? :P
 
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In her transfixed state, Amelie listened intently, drinking in the confessions of an insatiable evil, the history of this beast, and with every morsel dug her claws ever deeper. Her struggle was struggle no longer, she could not assault this mind as she had, for it was no singular force. A hundred minds, a thousand, a beast whom hates itself and its hunger as much as it desires to satiate it.

Spears of resplendent light splintered from her mind, spreading through shadows, igniting tendrils of black with purest fire. She could feel a presence beside her, lighter, a nostalgic power that reminded her of the ancient world... of her own will. The elf had knowledge of things no lesser creature should bear, but at this moment Amelie joined at her side. Faint vibrations of power emanating from the pair as they drove together at this mass of darkness. They were similar, but so vastly different. Amelie could feel the kindness in this magic; the sympathy, the compassion. Her own blaze burned with hate, thick and heady, inescapable but fearsome... purest white it may have been, but it was no angelic power.

Brilliant light blistered at the Hunger, an incandescence transcending all mortal bounds, the like of which most do not encounter. Amelie shared with this elf a secret in doing battle alongside her, the kind one could not escape from, a harsh truth that would come to haunt them both. For now their focus was set on one task however; one opponent, and their radiant power crashed heavily against the sheer weight of this filth's will.

Annalise faced a far simpler foe. Flesh and bone twisted and wrought itself into unnatural form. No matter the shape, her sword would cut and sever just as easily. The elder vampire drew her silver blade, glinting with a familiar fury, raising it threateningly as the crowd of shambling monstrosities lurched forwards.

"His name was Eren, and he was my son." Her silver eyes glistened with an unfamiliar shine, her rage tempered by a cold melancholy, and with a silent utterance of her love, Anna charged, casting her grief deep into the mass of corpses.
 
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Misshapen bodies surge forward and engage the forward warriors. Ash, Elias, Annalise and anyone else keeping the army of flesh at bay have their work cut out for them. These abominations are fast and vicious, but not smart in the least. And they cut down easy. Yet, for each that falls, they quickly mend themselves into a new grotesque shape and re-join the battle. At the same time, many of the burnt and broken corpses in the city rise and enter the fray. As the warriors battle, the number of enemies swells.

Cassie, Amelie, and anyone else fighting with their magic see Hunger explode in a raw black essence that lances out and clashes with their magic. It’s a struggle of raw power that is manifesting in reality, creating explosions of essence. But, this black energy is more than just power. It is the conduit the creature has to the minds of those who are containing it. It beings to thrust through and assault the minds on the other other of its magic, trying to find any way in.

"You will crumble beneath my thoughts!" you all can hear it hissing in your mind. "You are nothing to me! Nothing!"

Teh Frixz Teh Frixz , Ronan Ronan ., Aimless Vagabond Aimless Vagabond , Wackadoodle0987 Wackadoodle0987 , Epiphany Epiphany , ShadTheWerepire ShadTheWerepire , frakncheese frakncheese
 
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Ash ran atop the soldier's shoulders, dashing at unbelievable speeds and and leaping off bones in a parody of a ballet.
Arabesque. Arrondi. Tour piqué, the bottom of her boots land on another soldier's face and Ash back-flips off them, plunging her gladius into the soldier's crown mid-flip and she balances on it's crushed skull upside down, surveying her surroundings. To left, the elf and a merchant-mage. To the right, the Hunger and and merchant-duellist, not dissimilar from her. If anything, Ash pinned her as more reckless- black blood and cartilage flying in all directions as she savagely cut through the ranks. In front her were more misshapen bodies hurling themselves towards the living, uncaring if they were trampling over their own. A hoard of ants. But some were different, Ash could decipher that much. Some looked more human. And they smelled. Smelled of decay, metal, and burning flesh.

She pulls her gladius out of the skull and dashes again, body twirling and blades whirling.

In the centre of the mass of misshapen bodies is the scourge of Glewick City, the Hunger- roaring, laughing, wailing, everything at once, unable to differentiate between the human and monster, unable to control the torrent of emotions that came from within. It lances out and Ash ducks, dodging a tendril as it gripped the ground next to her, spasming and alive. The corsair takes this opportunity to slice the tendril but instead of sickling through as easily as it had with the soldiers, it's slower to exit and her rapier comes away with a gooey substance that burns. The ground sizzles and melts under the splatter of a cut tendril, then starts crawling back to the Hunger. Back to it's mother, like a starved child. Ash grimaces.

But she understood now, swords were useless against this creature. Cutting down a soldier granted a minute of nothing before they began to stitch themselves back together- six arms, a foot for a face, eleven mouths, nothing but a torso- as long as they can still move towards their target. If swords were useless then magic must be the answer. In this battle, the forward fighters would have to allocate time for the witches to weaken the Hunger.

And one thing was clear- the Hunger was the source of the infestation. To eliminate the source would be to eliminate everything else. To free the city and lay it to rest.

Ash bounced off a soldier with five arms and a foot for a face and started for the witches, her rapier and gladius poised in an x-shaped position as she sickled through another battalion, and when she neared them, she vaulted behind the two, touching their shoulders and yet not wanting their attention turned away from the enemy. 'We can give you time to destroy it,' she said, voice accented, but reassuring in their ear. 'You have one hour to eliminate the scourge. One hour to plan and decide- and after that, the fatigue will set in.' She was looking at Elias and the other duellist now, planning. Plotting. Watching. The outcome of the battle rested on the witches and like a chessboard, Ash recognised that it took a rook, knight, and bishop to protect the king. And she was going to damn well make sure that nothing got past them, that nothing touched their king.

'One hour,' she said again, firmer.

Then Ash was gone.

Back into the fray of soldiers flawlessly slicing through the rows of black blood and blacker flesh.
 
There was a bitter recognition in Annalise's eyes as she felled creature after creature, misshapen abnormalities that twisted themselves back together in more grotesque forms each time. Amelie's mind touched her own for a brief moment, and the pair shared their acknowledgement of this very familiar magic. Her sword would be of little use beyond slowing them down here, and so that is what the Elder Vampire would do - she refused to call upon their poison to aid in her survival; Anna lived by her own means.

"Belay their approach, draw its ire." Her sword was thrust deep into the skull of a still mostly intact thrall. She held it there, eyes trained on the great beast that loomed above them - she had fought bigger. The vampire kicked the creature from her blade, drawing her dagger from its sheathe in one fluid motion as she whirled upon another opponent. One of the humans had caught her attention, a pale haired woman, not dissimilar to Anna herself. Were she a vampire she'd have made for an interesting sparring partner, she could adapt her fighting style for both single-hand combat and dual wielding - it sort of reminded the vampire of her training years, as it was however, the girl was still a human.

Anna fought with an ease of grace rarely found even among her own kind, her short locks twirling along with the vampire as she span a whirling dervish of silver through their enemies. The undead were innumerable, and constantly regenerating for so long as this poisonous magic seeped through their bodies; as it was Anna could only continue to keep Amelie safe long enough to drive out the evil that possessed this mass of the dead.
 
"Twenty!"

Another corpse, more a wriggling mass of arms than anything else, was sent skyward as Elias's saw ripped into it with strength to rival beasts, accompanied by a fine spray of blood and flesh. Elias himself was covered in it, but the usual look of pure glee that came with his blood-fueled frenzy was absent. Watching these things reform no matter how he tore into them was incredibly frustrating for the Hunter. Plus, could he really count them as kills towards his and Ash's little game if they didn't actually die?

Elias cut his way towards Ash, each swing of his saw filling the air with blood and body parts. "This isn't working!" He shouted, voice barely audible over the screaming monsters. "We need to find a way to put some of these things down for good! We're going to be buried under a mountain of them if this keeps up!"

The blood and scraps of flesh strewn about the place told Elias that the things weren't capable of putting themselves back together completely, but at the rate they were going he and the other fighters wouldn't be able to do enough damage to them in time. Killing the Hunger might be the only way to do it, but to do that they'd have to ignore the hoard of monsters, which would be a death sentence. Not being able to cut at the heart of this insanity frustrated him even more than the undying hoard.

"You will crumble beneath my thoughts! You are nothing to me, nothing!" Even now, the Hunger was in their minds, completely sure of itself.

The hunter could feel his blood boiling. That thing, that mass of fused corpses and restless souls, thought itself superior? Thought itself his better?


Never.

His anger spurred on by his blood-frenzy, Elias turned heel and charged Hunger, batting aside any corpse that dared get in his way, hell-bent on shoving his saw down the creature's throat. No more fancy magics, no more assaults on the mind, no more battle of wills.

Now, it was time for the Hunt.

 
The world is on fire and Cassie burns with it.

It's a fire that ignites the night, shining like the sun in the midst of the Hunger's infinite black. The elf can feel the weight of its magic, the weight of the hundreds and thousands of lives it'd swallowed whole. She's a candle in a vast tower, her light unable to penetrate the thick gloom around them. But if her wizardry can't extinguish the Hunger outright, neither can it be swallowed whole, any more than the thick gloom of night can snuff a candle with its weight. She burns and nothing can extinguish her flame.

In her hands, the sanctified length of Church iron flames like a towering lighthouse and if it's not enough to banish the darkness, it may be enough to draw any remaining life and light left in Glewick to this final battle. Cassie's power thrums through her bones, hissing out of her lungs with each breath, and she only dimly perceives Glewick's dead fighting, perishing and rising anew at the edges of her magical light. As long as her companions stay within the daybright bubble of her immortal life, the Hunger's madness is held at the wall.

But it's not enough.

Her staff still burns sun-bright but she lets the haft of it strike the ground, so her arms no longer need to hold it aloft. Cassie's only too aware that she needs every scrap of strength to maintain the effort. As the battle continues, her arms sag followed by her body until she's holding herself aloft by the unfailing black wrought Church iron. As exhaustion claims her body, Cassie's spirit continues to burn, drawing the Hunger in closer and closer.

"You need me," she whispers to the flesh that contains it. "You Hunger, you need what I have. Enough of this, my poor friends, enough trying to slake your craving on scraps that you know can't fill you. Here is what you seek, what Ivers left you needing. Come."

As the monstrous bulk of the Hunger reaches the outer edges of the magical light, the elf weakly raises an arm to it. Its mind thrusts through hers but meets with no resistance, passing through her thoughts rather than against or within them. The massive, rending sweeps of its power drift through her like a sword through smoke. But the elf herself remains, arm raised in offering.

When the composite Hunger stands over her, only then does Cassie realize she's fallen to her knees. It just doesn't seem to be enough. Decades of magical training, centuries of lifeforce to power that magic, and this remnant of her teacher's power had grown beyond her. Had it? If it feasted on her, would that finally fill it up? Cassie remembers the poisonous feel of Ivers' potion, of the magic he'd made to leech her life from her. This Hunger was another side of the same coin. This is literally what she'd been purposed for all her life. At least this way, it is her sacrifice to make and instead of giving power to a mad wizard, she'd use that power to bring this dark power to light.

"You shouldn't be here, Cassie," the Hunger says, as it bends over her.

"You shouldn't still be here, my friends," the elf whispers back, her fingertips touching its claws. "And once you've taken me, you won't be."
 
Amelie restrained her power, her blaze burning away at the darkness enough to weaken it, to hurt it, but she did not drive herself deep. There was no intent to destroy. She knew what darkness this creature harboured, what this Ivers had perhaps unknowingly taken host to, and what came afterwards. The vampire had the strength to defeat this enemy, but for what was coming, there was no power within her, by bone, sinew or soul that she bore which could stave off the threat that loomed so terribly.

Fight fire with fire. She maintained her link with this darkness, silver eyes swimming as her blaze burned at the Hunger, and her mind drew in little by little, this perverse darkness - letting its weakened self trickle in. Amelie's smile was wide, a sinister curl of her pale lips, stretched thinly across a stormy visage. The darkness retreated, seeping from her, as her clouded thoughts became clearer once more, and her own light flooded the gaps.

The vampire's eyes were panicked, the silvery gloss dissipated as her sharp gaze flitted about. She settled her deathly glare on the kneeling figure, bowing pitifully before the beast that now doomed above her. Her silver eyes turned dark, her smile twisted into a hateful expression that could turn even the most hardened warrior to stone. ELF! She screamed within the confines of her own mind, raging at the lesser creature that threatened her plan so witlessly. This fool's self-sacrifice would ruin everything.

Energy crackled between the vampire's hands, white lightning sparking and thrashing violently; a harsh representation of Amelie's animalistic temper. She cast her hands forward with a shout, a great bolt of lightning hurling towards the beast with an immense flash. A mound of corpses rose like a wave to absorb the blow, exploding into a rain of flesh and bone. "Just die!" She roared, throwing another arcing bolt, tearing at the creatures, littering the ground with charred corpses and the torn, mutilated dead. Losing this was too much of a risk.
 
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At the thirty-eight minute mark the elf's bubble of light starts to shrink and Ash moves with it, careful to keep her body within the ring at all times and the tips of her weapons on the outside to strike down approaching enemies. The bubble moves slowly at first and the soldiers are easy to keep track of, but at forty-four minutes it becomes so small- so threatening that Ash hears and feels everyone's breaths in the decreasing space.


Her rapier clashes with Elias' whirlgig saw. Her elbows knock with the merchant's. The soldiers are becoming faster, piling on each other and overwhelming the shrinking safety zone. Ash is still striking them with an unparalleled precision, but she can feel her movements becoming slower. Fifty minutes.

The Hunger then looms over them, hiding Glewick City with only itself- putrid gas leaking from it's body and black skin sliding off like lava. Bones crack and splinter against the elf's light and hundreds of dead faces press against it, screeching and wailing. Clawing at the magic. Fifty-five minutes.

It's suffocating now. They're on top of each other- Ash elbowing the other two fighters more frequently and feet stepping over each other and movements awkward. Time was ticking down at an alarming rate. The soldiers were piled on top of the bubble, hissing and manic as the light begins to descend. They were waiting. Only a few more minutes and the spell would break and engulf them in darkness, becoming one of them.

Ash bends her knees until she's on the ground, back pressed up against someone and still staving off the soldiers with her gladius and rapier. Tick tock.
 
The darkness enfolded Cassie.

Somewhere out there, the elf was dimly aware of lightning and swords and the heroic efforts of her new companions to stop this monster. It didn't seem possible they'd succeed though. Not when she lay within the clutches of its claws and gasped as the immense weight of its mind ground against hers. Ivers' magic had grown utterly out of control, it seemed, for even the fabled vitality of the Elven people was nothing to it.

She felt a chill wind slice through her and then it was gone.

Cassie lay on the torn, blackened soil of Glewick City, numbly aware of her limp hand curled up towards the sky just in front of her field of vision. She couldn't seem to work out how her body moved anymore. She felt as light as a leaf, ready to be snatched away by the slightest breeze. It didn't hurt, which was the remarkable thing. Perhaps the Hunger's memory of who she'd been to parts of it had granted her that small mercy.

There was nothing merciful in the sight of the creature as it stood just past her outstretched hand. The Hunger turned to face the remaining ones, the defiant defenders of Glewick's dead, those with the courage to stop this horror here before it spread further. And as it turned, it seemed larger...and slower. Ponderous. The giant corpse of its body swayed on its feet, burdened or perhaps drunk on what it'd taken from her. Even the dead around it seemed to falter, as if the will that drove them had drawn back somewhat to regather itself.

An opening. But one Cassie was utterly without the strength to exploit.
 
Amelie seized the opportunity, sparing no second thought as she ran at the creature with furious intent. An arc of lightning splintered against its side, drawing the ire of the weakened beast as it settled its ravenous gaze upon her.

"You're not finished are you? Put up a proper fight." The great fiend brought to bear its full might, looming above the vampire such that its shadow cast over her still battling allies, and came crashing down upon her. Annalise's eyes were wide, as she at last realised her sibling's intent - she wasn't going to kill it.

"Amelie don't!" Anna roared, and with immense speed she hurtled towards her sister as the creature fell further, her sword poised to cut through its corrupted flesh. It all happened within a moment, as Amelie disappeared beneath the great mound of flesh, and Anna struck heavily against its side, hacking away as blood and fleshed pooled to the ground from its seeping wounds, staining the dirt black with its filth - but it did not so much as flinch at her efforts.

The darkness swam about the younger vampire. She could not feel the undulating flesh press against her body, a weight and strength that might crush a human, for now her mind was within itself - as was something else. It scraped and clawed at her, trying to find its way in to the deepest recesses of her mind, of her memories - to consume Amelie and all that she was or had been. This was an insatiable hunger, one she had the misfortune of knowing all too well.

Amelie opened her mind, the blackness pooling in with ferocious speed, gripping tightly to every corner and leeching from her, trying to absorb the vampire's self - but she fought back with equal vigour. The creature was weakened by the elf, an impressive feat for someone so young, and of great use to the vampire; it made this all much easier. She could feel it everywhere. Behind her eyes, in her fingers; she could taste its foulness on her tongue - this evil was as much a part of her as her own self, and now it was time to ensure it went no further. Amelie's mind closed, and from within flickered a tiny flame, ready to catch. The darkness could sense it, and with primal instinct, came rushing to blot it out - as it came close the flame burned brighter, a white flame which grew only larger and larger, its blistering heat burning away at the shadow within her - weak and vulnerable, as she scorched what remained to nothing.

The vampire was not naive, nor foolish. This evil was like an infection, if one does not cleanse it thoroughly, it will grow and worsen, and soon she will find herself incapable of being rid of it. It was a losing battle, but one she would have to fight until the end - until her task was complete.

Anna continued to cut through flesh and sinew, her sword in a wild flurry, even as the creatures about them began to topple and fall, and the body of this great beast began to burn away from the inside. At last she stopped, as a blinding light seared through the flesh and from beneath the fiend rose Amelie, surrounded by a sphere of burning white flame. The vampire set herself down on the ground, giving her sister a look, and made her way over to the collapsed elf.

"She's dying."
 
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Ash watched the light peel away the darkness, then the same light wane, ushering in the dreary world of Glewick City again. A city without light, without flame. Only the dying screams of the Hunger echoing over and over again until it was gone, blighted by the light of the silver-haired merchant. And Ash was fascinated by it all - the light, that is. The soft light that reminded her of fauns in the land of the elves, then the sharper light that struck like needles, painful and oppressing.


The corsair sheathed her swords and kneeled next to the elf and duellist, aware that they were right - the elf was dying. ‘Your sister,’ she began, green eyes meeting Amelie’s silver ones with conviction there. Assuredness. Ash would not let the elf die. ‘She is a powerful sorceress. Can she heal her?’ As it was - or as Ash knew - the elf and the younger vampire were the only ones capable of harnessing magic, unless Elias had a trick or two up his sleeve that she was unaware of. This was a possibility, but as it was, Annalise was their best option. ‘Or magic to prolong her death.’

What she didn’t reveal was that her body felt heavy. Heavy with the elf’s death. It was clear now: the weight on her heart, the pressure in her mind, the something that didn’t belong to her - it belonged to the elf. Whatever she had done to heal Ash’s leg was done to herself, too. And she didn’t realise it before in the chaos of the Hunger and mental invasions and memories, but with quiet settling over the land, she could now. The elf had surrendered a part of herself.

Upon this realisation, the corsair gathered the elf in her arms and pushed a thick strand of gold from her face. She had many questions she wanted to ask her: what is your name? Why are you so far from the land of the elves? Why did you give me part of you? So Ash would not let her die. Not until she thanked her and returned the power to her.

With the elf in her arms Ash stood up and returned her gaze to the vampire. ‘At least until we reach the next city.’

As she finished, the ground began to shake. Shaking with its final exhale before death, like a deteriorating spine in a dying body. Ash stumbled, her feet criss-crossing as she tried to right herself. They were out of time. Healing the elf would have to wait. ‘We need to leave. Now.’ she said quickly, her grip on Cassandra tightening. The corsair pushed herself towards the caravan, stepping over the newly formed small cracks in the earth.

The ground began to shake more. House windows shattering and roofs caving in. When she reached the front wagon she hoisted herself into the back of it and carefully laid Cassandra against the barrels and boxes of supplies - now useless, she realised. Symas’ shipment was a failure. Glewick City was dead.

Ash turned to the other wagons then to the vampire sisters. Regardless of shipment success or not, the wagons had supplies they would need: food, water, and miscellaneous. One wagon wasn’t enough. ‘Merchants! Elias!’ she called, pointing at the other wagons. ‘If everyone drives one wagon we can them all out of the city!’

Ash then climbed over the boxes and barrels and clambered into the front seat of her wagon and grabbed the reigns, the horses anxious but equal in their anxiousness to leave this wretched place. Ash had never been a coachman before, but she was going to learn now. She gave the reigns a hard flick and the horses broke into an immediate gallop. The wagon jerked hard and Ash almost fell backwards out of the drivers’ seat, but she held on, gripping the reigns as tightly as she could as she drove the caravan out of the city, just as the city gates collapsed and it was obscured by fog again. Glewick City was gone.
 
The sorceress kept silent in the face of the human's questioning, her mind and body felt heavy, and for a moment she simply didn't want to have to deal with anything - but such pleasures weren't to be had. The ground shook and trembled violently, bloodied earth splitting and cracking away as the foulness of their battle seeped down into the dirt. For what aid Amelie could give, she didn't think she had the desire to expend her remaining energy on this elf - or even if she could reverse the damage that had already been done. With what was coming, it was likely it would make no difference either way.

"Merchants! Elias!" The pale haired woman called out to them, giving the suggestive order that the sisters should help them escape with their belongings in tow... Amelie didn't realise she had suddenly become their personal aide. Anna approached one of the wagons, knowing full well that they could make use of some of the resources within, and that it was no harm considering they were leaving anyway.

"Hurry," The elder vampire spoke firmly, "The city is collapsing."

Amelie huffed, rolling her eyes, "If that is the way of things." She hurried over to the side of the road, brushing wood and stone from their bags, hauling the packs onto her shoulder and making her way onto the back of the wagon.

"Hya!" Anna cracked the reins, urging the cart onward at a brisk pace. That the horses had not fled was surprising, perhaps their minds were nulled by that creature, or even the elf, but it proved beneficial to the party... in more ways than were obvious. Casting her glance back at her sister, Anna watched Amelie carefully. She was weak, and as time passes her condition will only worsen - the vampire was awash with a strange feeling now; for a long while she and Amelie had been worlds apart, despite being right there next to one another... but now, Anna was afraid for the first time in a long time.
 
Exhausted from fighting off the writhing masses of bodies and frustrated that he wasn't the one that killed the Hunger, Elias followed Ash's orders and hopped onto the last wagon, giving the reigns a short snap. Luckily, these horses were trained to follow the other wagons and were more than eager to leave, so guiding them didn't take much work.

As they charged out of the collapsing city, Elias looked over his shoulder at the ruins. They were being completely engulfed, like some great beast below had opened its maw to feast on the dead within. The ruined homes, the surprisingly intact church, the undead masses, whatever was left of the Hunger; the city was dead, and in moments it was gone.

Well, perhaps not entirely dead.

Elias could see it, if only for a split second, standing near the collapsing gates. One last corpse, skin completely gone and muscle rotting, looked at him with empty eye sockets and smiled a terrible, knowing smile, and then it was gone with Glewick.

The Hanged Man had found him again. Elias had tried so hard, so very hard, to bury that part of himself away, to hide from that horrid thing's madness, and for a time it had worked. Now, the Hunger's influence had broken him, if only for a brief moment, and it had found its way back to him. There was nowhere left to hide. He no longer had a choice.

Now, he had to return to the north.

...No, that is a task for another day. I have to finish this business first. Leaning over the side of his wagon, Elias shouted up the line. "Where to, Ash? Do we return to Oakwood?"

Ronan Ronan
 
Cinna

The unharvested fields of rotten grain seemed to be reaching out and actively slashing at her skin as Cinna ran through at a break neck speed. A field stone, half buried and hidden, was to be her first impediment in her goal to reach the now former town of Glewick. The quasi ancient stone had been placed by a farmer twenty seasons back to denote his property line against his neighbors and after his passing was forgotten as said neighbor purchased the available land. Cinna learned of its presence when her bare foot dug into the earth above it, pulling her down to the ground with a crack.

A loud yelping swear broke the silence of the corn field on the outskirts of the town. The frustration Cinna felt compounded by the fact she couldn't even cradle her now broken toe. The large metal 'mittens' clamped over her hands and locked tight seemed to mock her attempts at any bodily comfort. In anger she swore again and smashed the gauntlets against the exposed rock, rewarded with a satisfying ping at the very least.

Sitting in silence for a few minutes, Cinna took stock of her situation. She'd been being chased for the last two days, only now not seeing any trace of her pursuers. She'd been munching on plants the whole time and drinking dirty water. Based on her memories of this area, Glewick was close so food shouldn't be much of an issue. Her clothing was rags and her health was poor but the shackles she had on were silver inlaid and probably worth some money. Provided the law here was kind and the faith uninvolved, she'd get them off and pawn the metal. Clothes and supplies and a night on a bed, beer in hand. Yeah, that's all she needed. Wincing, Cinnamon MacDonough stood up and started limping toward the city.

Stumbling onward, each step a pain, Cinna was surprised at how suddenly the field ended. Like something had cut down the crop at a precise distance. Looking left and right, the fields just stopped. The outlines of the field remained but it was simply dirt after a certain point. It was even more confusing when her vision cut through the fog to see a distinct lack of lights, life, and a few buildings. It was now that her spine shivered, something was wrong in the city. Wasn't part of the plan but she couldn't deviate now. Instead of moving toward the city, Cinna began following the outskirts to reach the north side by the main gate.

Time seemed to stand still as Cinna trudged through the dirt, the going harder in proximity to the quiet city for some reason. The pain in her foot keeping her awake despite the urging of her opening wounds to collapse. More than once she thought she heard something going on among the shadowed buildings but her calls into the city were only responded to by ghostly echoes. More time passes and each step felt like it was being taken waist deep in mud. Cinna was ready to give up when her foot fell onto a paved surface. Main track out of Glewick toward Oakwood, they were so proud when the spread the word about their road. Cinna laughing bitterly at how the couldn't even afford lanterns now.

She stops, slouching while making a decision. Turning towards the city, Cinna grunts and starts forward in a slow shuffle, making noise as she gets closer by banging her gauntlets against anything solid and hoping that the attention she'd eventually attract was at least willing to bargain favors.
 
"Now is the time." The cart halted by the others, reins pulled taut by an unwavering grip. "We should take what we can carry and untie the horses; we'll move faster without the cart." Anna's head turned to face her sister, her expression no longer sympathetic, only stern and resolute. "Let's move."

"Give it a moment's fucking break Anna," Amelie was hunched over, but now lifted her head from her hands, weary eyes drifting over the elder. The silver of her iris had dimmed to a dull grey, her expression having lost its once immutable vigour as she stared down her sibling, "I need some time."

Annalise stood tall, grabbing her pack roughly and hopping down from the cart, "That's not a luxury we can now afford." Her tone did not weaken, "We need to prepare."

"Like I don't know that!" Amelie snapped, her eyes darkened, and not in the same way as when she was angry - visible flecks of black were present amidst her grey eyes, "I am well aware of the consequences if we do not hurry; if I do not," The sorceress' voice trembled slightly, "But I am of no benefit to you if I lose myself to this before I can even gain proper control of it." The vampire winced, raising a hand to her forehead, rubbing the crease in her brow, "Everything, from hereafter... everything changes," Her expression softened, "You understand that, don't you?"

Annalise's head dropped, her eyes trained on the dirt at her feet, "This wasn't your decision to make Amelie, I made a promise... how can I now keep it?" She seethed.

"It wasn't for my sake. They have to be stopped." The younger vampire stepped down from the cart, "There is nothing I wouldn't do Anna - all that they took from us, all that they cost us... I will tear the ground from beneath their feet until not one is left standing. I just need you to be there for what comes after."

The elder's fist clenched tightly as she turned to face her sister, "You have poisoned yourself with this obsession. I cannot make you see that which you only pretend to be blind to, but don't throw your life away so carelessly for nothing but revenge."

Amelie's eyes narrowed, that dim grey glossing over, bringing a false shine to her stare, "Is that what you think this is?" She scoffed, "I must be some monster, hmm? For you to think so little of me." She brought a hand up to wipe her eyes, "Acts of goodness are not always wise, eh?" Amelie grabbed her own pack, and marched away from her sibling. They needed some distance.
 
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