Chapter One - Conflagration

Squirrel Man Huey

Fluffy Tree Citizen
Hudol. A world of young technology. Chainmail and swords, horses and plows. Villages thrive only at the behest of nature's fortune. In the village of Lagna a strange occurrence takes place. You all find yourself at the convergence of normalcy and prophecy.


The Speaker stood in front of the crowd of people drinking their stresses away at the inn. His attendants, other priests, were trying to engage each table in conversation. The men and women sitting at the tables - inappropriate behavior to be corrected - rebuked the men or just shoved them away. A red hot rage boiled within him. How could they disrespect the servants of Satu?



His muscles tensed, his grip tightening on the chair in front of him. For the past month they had ignored their message. They turn their backs as the priests greeted them. Laughed when they offered help. Snorted in their faces. It was too much. The blustering fury welled within him. The Speaker closed his eyes, reaching out to Satu, sending a prayer for patience.

It was useless though, all that came to his mind was snide remarks from behind closed doors, laughter at his so called folly, the realization that they were failing for the first time. He would be the embarrassment of all Satunum. The speaker snapped. He stepped back, keeping his hold on the chair. Another of his attendants was being rebuked, the chair raised from the floor and the Speaker let out a howl of rage. The chair plummeted to the table, powered by his righteous anger.

As the chair shattered, the room fell silent. The elderly Speaker wheezed breath in and out. ‘Praise Satu.’ He thought as every eye in the room was on him. His attendants’ mouths were open in shock.

“All will be right in your lives if you only see sense and worship your rightful God!” Moments passed slowly. He still had their attention. This was his chance to spread his savior’s word. Righteously he carried on.

“Satu is the way. He shows discipline and love in his heavy handed dealings. He is just and caring. He will change your heathen and barbaric ways and live a civilized life of calm and serenity. Allow me to show you the way!” The Speaker exclaimed with all his love and devotion for Satu. Finally he was reaching someone in this horrid village. A man large in chest stood, the only person in the room to move since the outburst. His first convert. The Speaker’s heart raced and a smile rose from deep within. This was the moment that the village saw the truth.

“Leave now,” he pointed to the door. “This is your only opportunity for peace.” The man’s voice bellowed through the quiet.

No one else had moved. The Speaker’s face fell. All his hopes and dreams were dashed like the chair lying scattered around him. With that loud voice, the Speaker’s anger brimmed once more. He could feel his pale skin reddening, feel the heat rising within his body. It felt like someone had stoked some fire within.

The Speaker could feel something moving inside, like a hand stirring his heart. Passion and purity of purpose rising. His shoulders squared, he took a deep breath. Something spoke to his mind.

Punish him. Purify him with fire. Purify the village for their sins!

It was all the Speaker needed. He could feel the divine intervention in his every limb. It was like the warmth of the sun, heating him and loving him. The voice had to have been his savior, Satu. He knew his purpose and suddenly he felt bliss.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Aevum couldn’t believe his eyes. He had spent his entire life in monasteries and on missions just like this. He wasn’t exactly the most devout but he had never expected to see something like this. Sure this village was especially frustrating because while he was here he couldn’t continue his researching but that was no reason to become insane. The priest watched his elder do just that, go insane.

Speakers were lead missionaries. Each was devout and took the priests that needed to see God’s work in action so that they strengthen their faith. Each Speaker was charismatic and an expert in every aspect of their dogma. They would visit obscure locations where their presence would be a spectacle and woo the locals until Satu had more followers and more tribute.

Aevum’s Speaker was especially dogmatic. He was faithful to Satu beyond reason. Whereas Aevum was more of a moderate in the faith. That was why when he stood there in the middle of the room watching the Speaker twitch and foam at the mouth he was in shock as were the rest of the priests. One moment the old grizzled man was bashing chairs and yelling at the patrons, then he was told to get out and this caused him to go rabid. He watched as the Speaker’s body stiffened, his eyes rolled back into his head and he started foaming.

“Was he bitten by a raccoon or something?” The words slipped out of Aevum’s mouth before he even realized that he was speaking. That was when everything erupted into chaos. Amidst his foaming the Speaker’s insanity erupted into a physical inferno. The man had spontaneously caught fire. His entire body was covered in flames. The room gave a collected yell as everyone stumbled back from the large sparks flying from his body. Aevum stumbled backward into a table, his eyes wide as he saw the blissful expression on the Speaker’s face as he started yelling.

ONE WILL COME COVERED IN THE MARKS OF A HERO.
HE WILL CREATE THE WORLD ANEW FROM HIS TOUCH.
HE WILL SHED HIS SKIN AND RELEASE THE POWER OF GODS.
THE HERO WILL FLY THROUGH THE SKY AND BUILD AN EMPIRE.


The conflagration became more intense as the Speaker ranted on. His words seeming to influence the course of the fire. It spread swiftly, eating the walls, reaching with its searing tendrils toward the patrons. Chaos had started. The people within had realized that this was no ordinary fire. It was directing itself toward the support beams and the locals themselves. It was chasing them hungrily.

Everyone around him panicked, they ran crazily toward the exit, knocking people and things over. Aevum just stood there, watching the Speaker. Watching, the flames erupt from within the man. His grey hair was long gone, his body spread out, arms outstretched. The blaze came from his mouth as he spoke in a language he couldn’t understand. A language that pulled at something within Aevum, he knew there was meaning there. Something lost, he took a step forward, needing to understand what was being said. Then the Speaker’s eyes met his. The inferno erupting, his eye sockets only filled with the flames.

Leave.

It was enough for Aevum, finally his focus was pulled from the Speaker. He turned to leave with everyone else as the fire consumed the man.

Aevum’s heart wrenched as he heard the scream. He had made it outside with most of the patrons. His fellow priests huddled against the wall of a building across the dirt street. All but one cowered, fearful of what the locals might do. Yet Aevum didn’t care. All he could hear was that scream. It filled him, consumed him. A loud crash resonated from within, another support beam. Yet he knew that it wasn’t just any beam, it had to do with the scream.

The scream...you need her.

He stood there, the voice channeling through his thoughts. His breath became more rapid as he considered what it said. People backed away from him. His shoulders and chest rising and falling rapidly, the sound of it filled the area around him. What was he thinking? Was he actually considering going back in? The bonfire that was once an Inn had almost consumed the entire building. It was suicide.

SAVE HER! GO NOW! PROVE YOUR WORTH!

Aevum’s eyes widened, his heart quick. That voice, it had never spoken like this before. It had always been whispers of advice, guidance, nudges, never yelling. He took a step toward the entrance, more people backed away, chattering softly as they held each other and watched the priest. Another step, it was getting easier. His breath was coming swiftly, he could hear the beating of his heart. The thumping taking over everything. He couldn’t hear the chattering, the sound of the fire eating the building, the falling of the beams like limbs off a dead tree.

His mind focused on the scream, he was in the doorway. Heat pummeled him as he walked in, a hand raised to try to ward it off. It was everywhere, he could feel the laughter in its flames. The joy of consuming the building and its occupants, some had not made it out. The holocaust forced him to his knees. The heat was so intense that it started singing his robes just from being near.

Aevum crawled, his hands and face blistering. Tears flowed from the pain but he couldn’t stop thinking of the scream. Everything around him was aflame except a path. He could barely see, the devouring entity had claimed the entire ceiling, smoke billowed throughout the building. Yet he knew he was going the right way. He knew this was meant to be. 

CLOSER! SHE NEEDS YOU!

The voice screamed in his mind. He could feel the blaze starting to consume him, the path behind him closing up as he came closer to her. His robes were aflame, his hands and face blistered. He could barely think beyond the need to save her. Finally he saw it, a flaming log on top of her, only small pieces of table saved her from being roasted.

Something came over him, a power he couldn’t understand. Aevum had never stuck his neck out for anyone including himself, his entire life. He was a weakling, physically and mentally, he was no hero. He was a studious priest, looking for innovation while other bowed their heads in worship. Yet here he was, clambering through hell for someone he didn’t know.

He reached forward to touch her, she was still breathing. She turned as soon as he touched her. The woman tried to suck in a breath but choked as her lungs complained of the heat.

“Get out!” She squealed between coughs. “Leave me!” She stretched out to wave frantically at him.

“Shhh…” Aevum said as he placed his blistered hand on her arm.

The log.

He moved his gaze to the log that pinned her. It was precariously perched in such a way that it sapped any strength that the woman might have. For Aevum though, it would be simple. He crawled forward then grasped the beam, the flames licking at his face and neck, he shoved it backward. It rolled away, flames dancing from the wood, and she was free.

Slowly she pushed herself away, and then, with greater strength than he would have expected from her, she clambered into his lap, arms and legs gripping with force.

“Thank you.” She whispered in his ear, fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck. He twisted, bringing his body over hers, feeling the flames biting through his robe and piercing his skin.

We gift to you the world as it once was.

He pushed up, cradling the woman in his arms, feeling the flames licking his body, pain searing into his muscles which were compelled forwards. He stepped over broken wood, which turned to ash as his feet stomped through. The body in his grasp, gripped him like a vice, she was trembling all over, her fear fueled his determination, though his soul felt lost in the short journey to the exit. A few steps more and his legs faltered. He set her down and pushed her away.

“Go.” He said, though the voice did not sound like his. He needn’t have spoken at all, for she ran as soon as her feet touched the ground. He sunk to his knees, the flames peeling skin from his arms and face, his robe gone completely. He saw her one last time, turning in the doorway, her face dropped into a silent scream and she tried to come back for him. Her path was blocked as a large beam crashed down from the ceiling, followed by the rest of the structure above.

He closed his eyes and listened to the deafening sounds surrounding him. The bright flame turned to pitch black. The noise dissipated into static and he fell through the world, tumbling away to darkness.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


In the early dawn the fire finally dies down. The village is struck fully by the horror of what had happened. Only the Inn burned to the ground but there seems to be a small amount of color within the black ashen mark of the Inn. Charred beams and a destroyed livelihood for some of the village's inhabitants stand before you and the crowd.


Although there is a practical reason for the burnt Inn to draw your attention, there is something deeper. A need deep within you the pulls you, something that demands your attention, forcing you to ignore everything else.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


@Kattz


Anani was the woman in the fire. She had tried to save your adopted father who was the man who told the Speaker to leave. He had stood there stunned when the fire started from within the speaker, she came in to save him but she was struck by a fallen beam. She was trapped until the Priest Aevum came in and saved her.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


@Just A Potato


You were not there that night because you were home working and studying. You come now because you heard there were people inside and you are looking to help. You find Briar standing over a man who had just woken and spoke. Now the man, the priest who saved Anani, is unconscious with severe burns on his body but is breathing sporadically.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


@Handabooo


Beish was one of the people closest to the Speaker in the Inn. He quietly agrees with the Speaker until he rages. You escape but can't help but watch as the Inn is burnt and one of the Priests of your faith goes in to rescue someone.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


@Angel_cassieopia


Aspen is coming into town, she saw the smoke throughout the night and now that it is early dawn you come to find out what is happening. Hoping that there is something that happened that would cause you to profit by selling your limited wares.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


@Vursk


The smoke is an instant trigger to you. Where there is destruction there is death. Where there is death, you get profit.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


@slayerslade666


Briar was at the bar when the Speaker was going off on the crowd. Her back was to the wall, next to the door. So she was one of the first people out of the inn because none of her adopted family was there that night. She kept them from going in or too near the Inn but stuck around and watched as the scrawny priest went in to do the impossible.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
That night was one of pain. The man had not been injured in any way, and yet he felt as if he was scarred. This had not been the first time he had been in a burning building, but never before had it been this dangerous. The flames had leapt about, hungry for the breath of human life. It had been a miracle that he had escaped. Or… had it been? That man had been a servant of Satu, and yet he had almost killed everyone in the inn. No… it could not have been Satu's doing. The old man had simply been crazy.


Beish was tired, but his own mind refused to rest. It ticked like clockwork, working furiously to do what it did best: assess and calculate. His thoughts flew once more to the moment of that evening, when he had settled down at the inn for a drink. He had been excited for the arrival of the Satunum, but of course, living in Lagna would not be safe if anyone knew his beliefs. And so, he had headed there to listen to the preaching’s of the priests, all the while nonchalantly sipping his beer.


It had been awful, seeing the preachers shunned away. Beish wished he could do something, but what could a lowly cartographer do to spread a religion? Not much, he thought. As the night grew later, tension suddenly spiked as the leader of their party began to display rage. Beish really couldn't blame him, but he had been getting out of control. In the end, the man had burst into flames, which began to eat at the inn’s supports.


The man had barely escaped, as he had been closest to the source of the flames. The tips of his hair were just slightly singed, but other than that, he was unscathed. He would have liked to think that Saturday had spared him, but something told him that it was just luck. Had his savior really caused that to happen? Why?


Beish paced about in his house, taking quiet footsteps as his father was asleep. He rubbed his hands together, then clasped them behind his head, then finally let them fall to his sides. What could he do? The man hated feeling helpless. As an act of desperation, Beish threw on his cloak to fend against the morning schools and headed outside. The air was still and solemn, as if in mourning for the events if the night before. Not many people were about, which came as a surprise to the man. It was most likely due to what had happened, but Beish couldn't see what they could still be afraid of.


The man made his way to the remains of the inn, which still let off a faint veil of smoke that drifted lazily into the slightly cloudy sky. No birds sang on this model, and the usual hum of business in the town was gone. No one knew what to expect, or what they could do. The man knew that a majority of the residents of Lagna would be saddened only for the fact that the inn was gone, but Beish knew to think farther than that. There was something else at play here. The real question was, what was it?
 
Anani and her father, Ameyro, traveled to town to make deliveries. As a huntress she sold the meat she caught in the forests and searched for any worthwhile bounties while her father delivered the swords, armors, and other materials that he had smithed to loyal customers. As usual they stopped for drink food at the inn once business was concluded for the day. There were the other people who had finished their workday, travelers, barmaids, drunkards, even some kind of religious sect along with the rest of the regular crowd. The only that was different from any other trip to town was the fact that her brothers had not joined them this time and that some strange man was obnoxiously yelling some nonsense while frothing at the mouth. When she helped a waitress friend of hers after one of the rowdier customers accidentally bumped into her, Anani sat back down at her table to drink with her father only to be stopped by one of the religious men trying to "help" her. Just what in all the gods' names was that supposed to mean? Anani ignored the man as she let her father shoo him away.


All of a sudden, Anani heard a crash. She raised a brow in confusion as the loudest religious sect member let out a howl of rage and caused and unnecessary ruckus. The result of the commotion left the inn more still and silent than she had ever recalled it being since she started coming in with her father as a child. As he began his radical spiel, Ana felt a chill down her spine. She wasn't sure if it was the man's animosity towards those who weren't conforming to his ways or something bigger, but something was just... wrong. Then her father moved.


Ameyro was a man of patience and tolerance but never for the kind of people that did not tolerate others. Her father never shied away from any problem and, when he thought it was best, he was always the first to take action against what he believed needed to be remedied. So when a man stood in the inn he, his family, and friends frequented for so many years and began calling them all "heathens" and "barbarians", he saw a problem to be remedied. "Papa..." Anani called out in a low voice. She also reached out her hand to grab him, but either he didn't hear her or he didn't care.


“Leave now,” he pointed to the door. “This is your only opportunity for peace.” Ameyro's voice bellowed through the quiet. Anani was completely still, not even daring to breathe. It felt like the moment of calm before a predator pounced into a herd of deer. Then suddenly after the strange man's anger grew and he began to froth at the mouth, he caught fire. Anani immediately got to he feet, warrior instincts kicking in. A fire meant that the inn was in danger. A crazed man on fire who seriously had some issues meant that everyone was in danger.


ONE WILL COME COVERED IN THE MARKS OF A HERO.
HE WILL CREATE THE WORLD ANEW FROM HIS TOUCH.
HE WILL SHED HIS SKIN AND RELEASE THE POWER OF GODS.
THE HERO WILL FLY THROUGH THE SKY AND BUILD AN EMPIRE.


Like the herd of deer Anani originally thought of, everyone panicked and began to sprint towards the exit. In her daze, she felt herself being pulled by her father towards the exit along with everyone else. Literally, pulled into action, she began to help her father remove the patrons and staff from the establishment. Just then Ana felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she heard the burning man begin to speak in a tongue unknown to her.  Suddenly there was another blast of fire, different from the first eruption that encompassed the man, that separated her from her father. Anani cursed the fact that she was not wearing her battle armor, nor had she been blessed by any holy figures wielding the power of the gods. When the flames hit her, she was weaponless and in a skirt of all things. Anani could not help but to let loose a scream as she could not dodge in time.


Having been through multiple fires before, Anani knew right away that this was no ordinary flame. It was as if it were some kind of living creature, purposely trying to consume her rather than just whatever happened to be unlucky enough to be in its path. Anani felt herself choking when she wasn't screaming and began to wonder if that was really laughter she was hearing or if she was just hallucinating before her inevitable death. Hallucinating or not, a strange man who Ana recalled associating himself with the burning madman earlier appeared in front of her.


“Get out!” She squealed between coughs, finding that she could barely scream anymore. “Leave me!” She stretched out to wave frantically at him, not quite knowing if he was here to help her out or along to her death. Then he just shushed her. Anani did not remember being pinned but she somehow found herself under a log as the strange attempted to remover her from the entrapment. When she found herself free, she crawled toward the man to thank him as well as move away from her previous position. Anani felt him twist her body under his and was afraid that she had misread the situation, that he was there out of some sick need to finish her himself rather than let the flames do all the work. However, she did not have energy or strength remaining to fight him off.


Ana must have lost consciousness for a moment because the next she knew, she was in the stranger's arms. She hoped against hope that he was truly trying to save her as she gripped tightly onto him. Ana put every last drop of strength into her hands and arms. If need be, she would take him down with her. If she were in a more rational and less delirious state of mind, Anani would have been sure of the man's desire to help her rather than questioning his motives when her life was already on the line. Just then she felt his step falter. He was heading towards the ground with her still in his grasp, but not for long as she broke free and put everything she had into running towards the exit. Anani couldn't help but to turn back, she opened her mouth to tell the man to look out but it was already too late. The inn collapsed.
 




As you approach the smoking Inn you see a few dozen lingering citizens of Lagna. Their faces somber as they watch the flame go away. They nearly seem to stand still in shock.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


@Kattz




You reunite with your Father as you escape. The rest of your family comes and brings you home. It isn't until near dawn that you are able to get away from their doting care. There is something deep within you that pulls you back to the Inn. A subtle whisper that nudges you to the Ashes that were almost your death. You can't make out the words but you know it is a voice.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


 


The Inn is completely in ruins, everything lay flat and shockingly undisturbed. Everyone in the area is struggling with the fear of that fire and the horror and shame that they didn't do a thing to try to put it out. Yet, something lay abnormal on the floor. A lump, covered in ash. It looks like a body laying on its stomach.
 
Edward had the thought of... What the hell? He wasn't that far away from the smoking area, before the whole incident, he was selling a rusted sword painted over with white paint, which was painted with a horse tail hair brush. Big words there. Though even though his pawning was a ploy, it couldn't be half as bad as actually trying to sell it rusted. Only when the smell of smoke started filling his nostrils, he could smell the bodies that he could loot. Oh the coins... or whatever currency they use..?


Edward dropped the sword he was showing off to the salesman, and started running, with Edward on his way to the fire, he had mixed emotions about it. Whether it be a bonfire or even an actual fire, ya know. Edward soon approached the area, he didn't fully understand what actually happened, but he saw bodies, and items. As one of a non-religious, he found no reason to say anything, being religious as a grave robber would be bad. Also confusing. 


He watched as the flame died out, than made his move and started checking some bodies, if one was alive, he's not sure, if one is dead, loot is alive. Edwards checking of a body was of yelling in said ear and seeing a reaction, but if a body is alive or dead, the loot is always alive. Edward didn't want to know what happened, and didn't need to know.
 
[SIZE=14.6667px]“Sister, what’s the matter?” Frantic voices and terrified eyes looked up at Briar as she came running out of the inn, shaking her head she picked up her two little sisters, who both watched with wide eyes as the crowds of people fled the inn. “Sister, look!” The elder, girl, Avette cried out, causing Briar to pause and turn around, just in time to watch as a scrawny looking priest headed back into the inferno that was engulfing the inn. Setting the girls down, she gave them both a stern look. “Run home to Mama and don’t you dare look back” Both girls nodded briskly and then turned and ran toward home, which was on the edge of town. Sighing she turned back and ran over to help the people who were fleeing the structure, while keeping an eye out for the priest she’d seen run into the chaos. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]    [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]After a long day of work Briar often unwound at the local inn, where the food was good and the beer was cheap. Recently there had a lot of Satunum priests running around, attempting to convert the people of Lagna to their restrictive and oppressive bullshit of a religion… Briar made it a point to ignore them, the few times one approached her they got harsh words and more than empty threats, as Briar swung on one of them when they refused to leave her be. Lucky for them she missed, else wise they might’ve had a broken nose…[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Sitting in the back of the inn Briar rolled her eyes and downed her drink as the old man started his rant. When would these fucking Satu worshiping bastards leave them be, Lagna had it’s own faith and it’s people weren’t in need of being saved… if anything the worshipers of Satunum needed saving.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]When the old man started foaming at the mouth, Briar started paying closer attention, just to see if the old goat would choke on his apparent rage. But then… [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“Holy hell…” Briar got to her feet as the old man burst into flames, chaos erupted and Briar was not about to be caught up in it. Whatever magic this old man was invoking was powerful and some gut instinct told her to run, so Briar was one of the first out the doors when the crowd bolted for the exit. Seeing her two young sisters outside, no doubt sent to bring her home, she scooped the both of them into her arms and would’ve run had one not cried out and pointed to the idiot running back into the fray…[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Sending the girls home, Briar took a deep breath to steady herself. Her gut was telling her to go back and help, and that this was far more than some sort of freak accident, or the work of an angry, spited Speaker… As she helped the crowds of people flee the crumbling inn, Briar looked to see if the fool she saw running back inside…[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]But she could barely see anything through the chaos, and once everyone was out safely, she could only watch as the inn collapsed, the smoldering splinters were all that remained…[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Initially, Briar returned home, to assure her family that she was alright.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“BRIAR!” her mother flew to the door the second she walked in, and tiny hands clawed at her pants as briar pushed on toward the table, muttering “I’m alright, I’m fine” over and over to her fretful mother… That had been… She sat down and propped her head up on her hand. Looking out the window she could see the smoke still rising into the darkening sky… Briar knew she wasn’t going to sleep well that night, the old man’s face and his crazed screaming we're going to haunt her…[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Briar awoke early the next morning and returned to the burned out structure, unsurprisingly she was not the only one to return. She sighed and scratched at the back of her neck, it was such a waste...this had been her favorite inn… And what of the man she saw go back...what had...become of him…? Briar started looking through the rubble to see if she could find any sign of the man… She got a lot of splinters for her trouble, and just as she was about to give up, she tossed a log aside, that revealed a odd shaped lump on the ground. Briar blinked and wiped the grime out of her eyes. It looked like a body. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“Sweet Kurator” she got down on her knees and examined the supposed body, tentatively. [/SIZE]
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Aspen saw in the distance a rather bright light. She drew to a holt. What could possibly going on? She watched from the hill she stood on. Her hand was resting on the handle of her sword, her sack slung on her back. She hears distant yells. A commotion. What could possibly have happened? 


   She approached the town, her lungs feeling heavy. She drew out a cloth and covered her mouth her lungs being sensitive. She looked around at the scurrying people around her.  


((I apologize for the short reply))
 
Last edited by a moderator:

@Vursk


 


The usual stench of death wafted into your nostrils as you sorted through the remnants of the Inn. You find a few bodies with very little possessions in their pockets. A few slightly melted coins, a few daggers that can be taken and re-sheathed. There seem to be more "lumps" resembling bodies on the other side of the building.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .



 


You walk into the Inn, taking your time so you don't trip on the rubble. As you lift the charred remains of a log and toss it away the blackened body is revealed to you. You exclaim to the Kurator and a small voice sounds within your mind, only you can hear it.


Sweetness is not granted. See him rise from death.


 


(See the last post for more.)




. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .



 


As you approach you see dozens of people standing around the shambles. One young man sifting through bodies, yet no one seems to notice. There is one lone man standing on the edge of the Inn remnants and another woman removing a log from a lump. You have choices, do you help, do you watch, or do you run. Something within you presents those options in your mind. Nothing else seems reasonable and you aren't able to focus on anything but those three options.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .





Erik had just finished bartering with traders the day before. The last of his harvest had been bought. He had what he needed and some coin for the end of the season. Life was good. Things were looking up since his days of the sword. However, that early morning, coming into Lagna, there was smoke. Images of his past raided his calm, unsettling him. Smoke in a village meant two things. A random fire...or bandits. A strong urge overwhelms Erik, pulling him to the source. He wasn't a man of the sword anymore by choice, but the instincts were there. Go to the chaos, force order. Choose to help or to harm. Erik could feel the turning point in his internal battle in this moment.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


 


To everyone watching the woman that removed the log, the lump of a body that was beneath it moves. The blackened and charred skin bristles, a loud crackling sound emanates in the quiet air. Deep red lines riddle the body's back as a loud gasp for breath sounds. Choking then gasp for breath and finally an arm moves and he turns over. It is the skinny priest, covered in char, he should be dead. Yet he lives, his eyes look to Briar and he reaches up.


The girl! Is she safe?


 


The priest collapses, his mangled eye lids partially close and it is obvious to everyone that he loses consciousness. His breathing falters but continues in a horrifying effort at normalcy. Crackling emanates from his body loudly. A Satunum Priest drop to his knees to pray, one faints, and another instantly runs out of the village in fear, only two remain beside the charred man.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
[SIZE=14.6667px]Briar’s outstretched hand faltered as she heard the voice in her mind.  [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]Sweetness is not granted. See him rise from death”[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]She blinked and shook her head, where the hell had that come from? Distracted by the strange voice and it’s cryptic words, she didn’t realize the body below her was living until the sickening cracking sound filled the air. Snapped back to reality, she looked down, eyes wide with horror and shock as the man beneath her sucked down a breath. Red lines cut through the burnt flesh on his back as the guy managed to roll himself over. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“You're the…” briar spoke aloud, dumbstruck. This was definitely the guy she saw run back into the inn… How the hell he’d survived..well that was a question for another time… [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“Just lie still we’ll…” she reached out toward the man as if to pick him up, when he spoke.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“The girl! Is she safe?”[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]As he reached up toward her Briar grabbed his hand. She wasn’t sure what girl he spoke of, but she hadn’t seen other bodies when she was looking through the rubble… So she tentatively assumed that this mystery girl was safe. “...She’s...safe. Now quit  talking, idiot…” Briar sighed, as the priest passed out she assumed he hadn’t heard her. He needed help… Looking around, Briar watched as one man fled, while another fell to his knees to pray. One sorry soul actually passed out. Though she could feel her stomach twist at the grizzly state the guy was in, this was no time to lose one’s cool. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]Standing, she looked to the priest who was praying. “...Watch him” she snapped at the guy as she dusted herself off. Exiting the burnt out structure she pondered the voice she’d heard before the man had awoken. Sweetness is not granted...watch him rise from the dead…[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]“The hell does that even mean…?” Briar mumbled to herself, distracted by her thoughts she wound up walking into the young man who was standing at the edge of the crash. The slight impact jumped Briar back to reality, stumbling back she looked to the the stranger. “Uh, sorry…” she shook her head, and then pointed back toward the rubble. “There’s a survivor...some idiot priest…” Briar rubbed her eyes and looked the stranger over. She could’ve sworn she saw him in the bar the night before...then again the inn was packed the night before, as it usually was.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.6667px]@Handabooo[/SIZE]
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Beish raised his eyes to the heavens. The ash that rose from the charred remains of the inn were now beginning to fade away, leaving only a grave landmark that reminded all what had happened. And yet, no one yet knew exactly what had taken place. It was all a great mystery, and the man didn't care for it at all. He needed facts, information, something to go off of. But there was nothing.


The man cast his gaze around the blackened timbers, now seeing a few that had come to see. Although there was not much to look at, the remains seemed to throw a spell upon the inn, making all who viewed it want to find out more. Beish could see it written in their eyes that shock remained superimposed upon their souls. The man felt a seed of impatience grow within him, and he let out a sigh of frustration. There was nothing he could do here, and yet he couldn't bring himself to leave.


A sudden bit of movement caught the man's attention. There was a woman kneeling in the ruins, looking over what he could only see as a lump. Beish recognized her as the woman that the brave Satunum priest had saved, only to be burnt by the falling building himself. It had been a noble act, but a short lived one. Beish had even sent up a prayer that night for the man, asking Satu to have mercy on his soul. But now… the lump moved, and a collective gasp came from all who were standing nearer. Beish stepped around fallen timbers and got close enough to see that the lump was a man.


The man was laying on his back, and his face was splattered with blood and burns. But Beish could see that he was not just any man: he was the man that had died. How? He was alive? Was this even possible? Beish was a big skeptic in such things, but the truth was staring him in the face. Well… not really, as the Satunum priest had fallen unconscious, his breathing ragged and desperate. This was impossible.


This had to be some kind of dark witchcraft. It was dangerous. Demon-esque. Not human. But it could not be from Satu… could it? Beish took a faltering step backwards, almost falling over a small rock. Just at that moment as he regained his balance, he was knocked off kilter by someone. With a slight grunt of annoyance, his disbelief gone for a moment, he recognized the person as the woman who had been over the slightly alive priest moments before. He must have missed her as she stood. She apologized, then said something about her discovery as if he hadn't already seen.


Brushing a hand through his hair, Beish muttered, almost to himself, “So, where do you fit into all of this? Why did that man save you, when he could have saved himself a lot of pain?” This was indeed a mystery, and it stoked the man's curiosity quite a bit. The woman herself was also quite a curiosity, for an eye patch covered her left eye. She didn't really seem like the type of person that would need saving, but then again, that fire had been unexpected. As he wasn't out much, he didn't know her, but he knew he had seen that eyepatch in the town before. “Beish Pefina,” he added with a slight nod.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Aspen looks at the scene. She walks forward, not seeming conscious of her movements. She decides, there's something she has to do.  She walks towards the man, standing alone. 


   She seems curious and walks up to the man. He was fairly taller than her, which, wasn't uncommon. She looked around. Finally speaking. Her voice came out in an almost whisper. 


    "What, happened?" Her speech patterns were normally full of pauses, as if she was questioning what she was saying. 
 
Anani sighed to herself. She loved her family more than anything, but they could really be so unnecessarily overprotective. Her strength rivaled that of her father's and she regularly participated on hunts of both human and bestial targets for gods' sake! She wondered if perhaps she shouldn't be so quick to dismiss their doting care. That man from that religious sect did seem to magically catch fire after all and she could pray to a god or goddess or take or throw a blade but magic was above her head. Whatever Anani felt about magic at the moment did not matter. Since the day her family took her in, Anani's father, Ameyro, taught her that one should always repay their debts and the fact that she was able to go back home to her family the previous night meant that she owed the man a lot.


It didn't make much sense. Anani was is her battle armor, weapons both in sight and hidden along various places of her body as if she were going to hunt down a bounty much to her mother's protests. Yet for some reason, Anani did not bother correcting her or the rest of her family about her motives for walking back to town that day. Something just... called out to her. The man most likely wasn't alive, so why did she get up this morning to dawn her armor and weapons and walk back to the inn. Why did it keep plaguing her thoughts? It wasn't as if she were a stranger to death or tragedy.


Eventually she heard it as her footsteps brought her closer to the place of her near-death the day before. A whisper.


Anani could not make out the words, but a voice was definitely calling to her. Under normal circumstances all the warning bells would have been ringing loud enough to drown out said voice but instead the whispers somehow drowned them out. When she finally arrived at the inn she saw everything in ruins. Ignoring the people in the area almost as if she couldn't see them to begin with, she strode straight to what she realized was the body of the man that had saved her life before. The whispers were somehow louder than before yet Anani still could not make out the words. Before she knew it, the huntress had dropped to her knees and was clutching her head, more in annoyance than pain, hoping for it to stop.
 
[SIZE= 12px]Erik was extremely satisfied with the outcome of yesterday's sale; it was an extremely busy day, that was certain, but it was also a day that proved to be equally fruitful. He still remembered that day rather brightly. He had surveyed over the remainders of the goods that weren't bought — most of them being either rotten, or too small — carefully picking out the ones that were fairly edible, since he had — always being somewhat cautious with his resources — decided to pack up the leftovers. Although almost all of his bags were cleaned out earlier by the traders, there was still enough to fill up his bag to a moderate degree. He sorted the coins, enough to last until the next season, pocketing them into a small pouch, before proceeding to put said pouch into his bag. In the end, it was an extremely satisfying day.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Erik had returned to the village that morning, or rather, dawn; it was actually quite early — the sun was steadily rising — but then again, sleep was something that was scarce to the likes of Erik, he both slept late, and woke up early, but he treasured the small duration he had left to sleep. Feeling significantly more positive than his usual days, Erik was thoroughly looking forward to getting a drink at the inn, to celebrate yesterday's bountiful sale. Suddenly, however, something quite struck him as odd. The smell of stale smoke was present in the air, as if something was just reduced to char by fire. The smell itself wasn't particularly strong, suggesting that the burning might've happened earlier. [/SIZE][SIZE= 12px]Without any further regards to his strange thoughts, he hastily proceeded to take his bags off from his horse, a sudden bout of wary excitement just having sprung out within his minds for exactly no reason at all. Erik could only reply with a deep sigh. It was rather unexplainable at best, and this only seemed to thrust him into a temporary feeling of restrained confusion; he couldn't even express it properly.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Once finished with his time-consuming task — that is, picking out his belongings from the annoyed horse. He hauled up the fairly heavy bag — an action rendered quite easy due to his firm physique — slinging it over his worn shoulders. As he reached for his scabbard, and the sword that it held, his keen ears were promptly subjected to a wide array of noises. All of which, weren't distinctly good in nature.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]He heard loud, distracted chatter from inside the village of lagna. He was still a few yards away from reaching the place, but the sounds themselves were rather loud. The smell of smoke increased. The sudden event, which he had yet to observe fully, struck Erik with both paranoia, and an odd case of intrigue. The former in the sense that there was[/SIZE][SIZE= 12px], indeed, a very fair chance that bandits had just attacked the town, and the latter which was, unfortunately, something he couldn't decipher, however he tried, his mind was too limited to correctly analyse the situation purely from sound.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Nevertheless, it was rather tense for him, beads of sweat appeared on the man's — who was now feeling quite worried, too worried— forehead, overlaying upon the dried layer of sweat, which had formerly occupied his head, only to be driven out by its more superior relative. Besides, it wasn't anything unusual, Erik thought. Indeed, it was the fear of conflict that was culminating within him. It wasn't that he was a coward, but the very fact that what he was to do should he be involved in it; that is, should bandits be involved in too. [/SIZE][SIZE= 12px]With the sounds, and the lingering thoughts, came a wave of reminiscence, and again, not really of the good kind, much to his dismay. His eyes — and with it, his focus — wavered around from the source of the sounds, to the blade he was now firmly holding in his hands. It was a moment of decision. His mind was roving in and out, wrestling with a subconscious desire to go towards the situation[/SIZE][SIZE= 12px]. Despite his better judgement, the subtle inquisitive need to observe the situation took over his actual mind; one that he couldn't possibly resist, or deny attention to, although something he could also realize definitively. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Taking his sword by the scabbard, he eventually decided to take only the most single of peeks at the situation, and depending on it, decide whether or not to intervene. The rational side of his mind celebrated triumphantly over this negotiation of thoughts.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]He started to proceed towards the source, inch-by-inch. With each step, he also grew more and more annoyed towards his own actions, and became more and more frustrated with his lack of control over his own mind, until he came within distance of burnt house. It was easily identifiable, that house.. Gently, he made his way through the partially sympathetic, partially curious crowd that now surrounded the situation. His mind was now being struck with even more echoes from the past; fires, it didn't really help to hold back all those painful memories[/SIZE][SIZE= 12px]. Numerous question arose in Erik's formerly blanm mind.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]What was it? Arson? A mishandling of fire? Or something more bigger than that? A bandit attack, perhaps?[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]That was the thoughts that were swimming and roving inside the head of Erik, who was getting more and more curious, despite his better judgement, obviously.[/SIZE][SIZE= 12px] Entering more deeper, with a more brisk pace, he noticed one of those Satu monks praying fervently, and another lying unconscious on the ground, almost quite asleep. Quite conventional, somewhat even stereotypical of Satu monks. Fanatics, was what Erik had labelled them as.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]The fire had died down as fast as it had gone up, or so Erik presumed, but in the end, it left the inn ravaged, and in complete crumbles. There were still some embers laden on the ground, small patches of fire still flickering atop the charred wood. The smoke was still present, albeit in a more lesser density. Erik pushed through the thick crowd, his pace less gentler than before, as his curiosity got the best of him. At the inner edge of the crowd, Erik had a clear view of the inn, however, what stroke him as odd was the fact that a handful of people — who were certainly more unfazed than the crowd that surrounded them — were lounging about in the area. [/SIZE][SIZE= 12px]He, without taking note of the still crowd, advanced ahead into the site of the former inn.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"What happened here?"[/SIZE][SIZE= 12px] He quietly muttered, whilst also scratching his head in confusion; it wasn't that much baffling — it was really just a fire — but it was somewhat strange, which wasn't even outright noticeable, but still, its presence could be felt. He easily noticed a girl kneeling over someone, which upon more advancement, he discovered was partially burnt, but severely damaged. Injured, he was. The burnt man was still breathing, but it was clear that each gulps of air required much effort. That was for sure. At first, he presumed that the girl kneeling besides him was doing so in despair, but upon closer observation, Erik discovered that the girl was actually covering her ears. Like an honest madman.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]He stared at the scenario, without making his presence known, his look lingering on a bit, before finally resolving to speak.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"Look, lady. Coverin' your ears won't do no good. This guy's real damaged, we gotta get him a medical practitioner."[/SIZE][SIZE= 12px] [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]He said, his tone was rather wooden, a bit assertive. He subtly sighed, rendered instantly weary by the sudden folding of events. The ground was really charred, each step rendering the rubble into dust.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]"So, stand up, I say. Stand up." He finished, his gaze traversing from the woman, to the man. He was pretty damaged, especially his neck. It was a tough thing to see, for Erik it was; the very sight of destruction was a mental burden to him.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]@Kattz[/SIZE]
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Briar blinked and looked the stranger up and down, a confused look came to her face as the stranger mumbled to himself. Something about girls and saving...perhaps he thought she was the one the priest had risked his life for. While that wasn't true, it hardly mattered, it didn't change the fact the priest was in desperate need of help. However, this strange man currently had Briar's attention. She hadn't seen him around town, though she was certain she'd seen him in the bar the previous night.


"Briar..." she replied, nodding her head in return. Looking Beish up and down again she spoke. "I'm not the one that priest saved...though I did see him go back into the inferno...presumably to save another..." she scratched at the side of her head. "Least that's what that voice seemed to say..." she muttered, almost to herself. "At any rate, he needs help, like a healer or something but..." she looked around. She didn't see the town healer...though she did see a woman beside the injured man. Perhaps she had been the one he saved?


@Handabooo
 
Anani felt as if she were truly going mad. What was she even doing here? Yes, debts must always be repaid, especially ones of life and death, but how could one repay a dead man? At least she thought that he was dead before she came here. Everything was all muddled. Anani felt as though she were trapped in a strange dream or a world where the laws no longer made sense. A man spontaneously burst into flames, another survived despite having a building fall on him, and she was practcally drawn to the place where things stopped making coherent sense. To top things all off, Anani was hearing voices!


Wonderful.


When she was younger, Anani would have panic attacks plague her every so often. She now used the breathing exercises her parents taught her to calm herself. Maybe the whispers were some trick of the mind? After what felt like an eternity, Anani eventually lost her patience. "Shut up. Be quiet!" Between the words that she couldn't make out, she started whispers of her own that gradually began to get louder in futile hopes of drowning out the whispers speaking directly to her mind. This continued until she was shouting and completely forgotten about the people around her. As a personal rule she was more concerned about her attitude and appearance towards others when out in armor and her full array of weapons, but at this moment in time, Anani had forgotten even that.
 


 


From the quiet came sudden noise. Voices, bangs, knocks, screams, singing, laughter sounded within your minds. The noise of a world. The noise of the present. The cacophony rings through you, drowning everything out. It rises and rises until it brings you to your knees and you try to block it out like Anani (Kattz). You scream, you hit your head, nothing works. After what seems like an eternity the noise stops. You almost don't believe it, your mind was pushed to its limit and now has a rest. As you look up from the charred ground you see a red headed woman in armor, a sword strapped across her back. The Priest is hovering before her, still breathing, covered in a bright white light. As you look at the woman, you notice that she isn't whole, you can see through her.

Passion.jpg



Nam arma ad speluncam venit ut salvificem mundum.


 


You don't immediately understand the words but they are etched into your mind as if she has carved them into the tree of your mind. You realize that this is only a language that the Lore Keeper or the Religion Leader of the council can know. You are drawn to seek them out in the longhouse the next block over. All of you feel this compulsion, this need to know more, this need to understand what the woman is saying. She disappears and so does the Priest in a giant soundless pop of light. The dawn, which you realize has been too long finally flows and the sun rises swiftly into the sky. Your skin tingles and you know that something has just happened that hasn't happened in many generations. You need answers and you are compelled to find them with the small group around you.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .



(Check your PMs for more details)


 


The Council is already collected in the long house, they have people observing the events at the Inn. One runs back to you and tells you everything that has happened. You wait for the small group that has started to the longhouse. You know the translation of the words. It signifies the arrival of the Electi. The alteration of the world. The need to send people to the Cave of Herz.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
As Aspen bent down she held her head between her knees. 


   'What was this? What was it?' Thoughts ran through her mind. She began having a hard time breathing. A scream echoed through the night. Who was screaming? She realized t was her. 


   She looked up after the silence. Who? what? Her breathe was jagged and rough. She wasn't seeing straight. 'Hallucinating? No.' She thought. 
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Women confused Beish a great deal. For the majority of his life, he had never know one, save his mother, in a personal level. To tell the truth, he almost felt a bit anxious around them, as if they were watching his every move and preparing to make a remark about him. He knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn't get rid of the thought.


And when Beish became nervous, although it wasn't very often, he spoke to himself. When the woman who had run into him introduced herself, stating that she was called Briar, Beish almost zoned out for a moment as he began to think. He started to mumble ro himself, asking rhetorically about the woman the crazy priest had saved. While he may not have been talking to Briar, he realized he had made it sound so. No, he wasnt that stupid. Well, it matters of the opposite sex… perhaps he was. Beish muttered a quick, “Sorry, wasn't talking to you,” before his attention turned to something else.


There were now two new people on the scene, one being a young woman kneeling beside the priest and seeming to be in pain, and the other being a monster of a man that Beish had seen in the markets before. He was some kind of simple farmer, but to Beish, he seemed like a bit more. But no, the woman in pain seemed to be more interesting at the moment. She was clutching her head in agony as she cried out, as if her head was being invaded. What could this mean? Was there something going on that he wasn't aware of?


All of a sudden, Beish heard a cry to his right and saw that a young girl had fallen, crying about something that the man couldn't hear himself. She was just like the woman, clutching her head as something happened. But what? What was he missing? Just as the thought crossed Beish’s mind, he too experienced something incredible and painful. A sort of screech filled his hearing, but it wasn't a noise he could really hear. And yet it deafened him, and he could hear nothing else. This noise had no tone or pitch, and it seemed to be ever changing, and yet it was always the same.


It felt like an eternity that Beish cried his pain out, tears creeping into his eyes for the numb daggers that struck his head over and over. What was this? He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't make it go away. Was this his fate? To die at the hands of something unknown, to barely remain on his feet, although his legs were telling him to give up? It was unearthly. No human should have had to feel this.


Suddenly, and yet gradually, the noise began to fade. It left Beish's mind fuzzy and unable to think, and his sight was splotched with black. As he gasped through lungs that had been deprived of air, he could almost see something from the corner of his vision. Red hair... glow… man… floating? What was this?
 
Briar arched an eyebrow and sighed. "Of course you weren't..." she shook her head, tossing her dark brown hair over her shoulders as she did. What a strange man, talking to himself aloud and seeming surprised when others reacted to it... Whatever, there were bigger things for Briar to be worrying about...


The arrival of the woman, kneeling in pain and the large farmer that was seen in town took Briar's attention from Beish.


Briar had never seen the woman before, but the farmer was a semi-familiar face. She'd seen the guy around before, and all she could think was he was a monster of a man and gave off the vibe he could break someone in half without much effort.


The woman seemed to be in pain, kneeling in the dirt and holding her head, as Briar moved to ask her what was wrong, she felt a icy stab at her mind, as though someone had jammed an icicle though her skull.


"AGH!" Briar cried out in pain and fell to her knees, she could just make out what looked like Biesh doing the same. What was going on? Her nails dug into her scalp, but Briar was in so much pain she didn't register it, her head was pounding as though someone had just crushed it between two boulders. Tears formed in her eyes as she cracked them open, Briar could just make out what looked like the priest and a red haired floating woman. wait they were both... She shook her head and cried out as the pain spiked, and a phrase ran through her muddled mind.


Nam arma ad speluncam venit ut salvificem mundum.




What did it mean, what was it? Why in all the gods did it feel like that phrase had been embedded into her brain? Briar didn't know, but as the pain slowly ebbed away and her senses returned, Briar knew one thing. She had to tell someone about this...
 

@Vursk




As you process the pain you are overcome with a bright hot energy, a white light surrounds you and all thought and memory disappears. The energy isn't painful but its certainly not comfortable either.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .




Everyone notices the bright white light surrounding the young man who had been looting. After a bright pop he too disappears. You all are alleviated of the pain to your mind and are able to function normally, though you feel you need answers. Where do the people of Lagna go for answers? The longhouse, the center of the large village. To the council.
 
Aspen raised to her knees. Her head still spinning and her vision slightly blurred. She looked around, dazed slightly. But once she remembered where she was and what happened, she checked to make sure all of her belongings were fine. 


    After reassuring herself they were she rose to a standing position. 
 
At the Council Long house, each member was gathered, save Manfred who was still on his way. Darla, the lore keeper, spoke with her husband, Carmichael, quietly while the other members did their best to look professional. Derek cursed under his breath as he adjusted his leather armor, certainly not fond of being forced to wake up at this gods forsaken hour. Thomas Cornswell on the other hand was bright eyed and bushy tailed as usual. He was used to waking up this early. In fact, when the messenger had come to retrieve Thomas from the farm lands he was found in the cattle yard, already awake and tending his cows. Now they were just waiting for Manfred. 


A few minutes had past before the craftsman finally burst in through the entrance of the long house. Sweat clung to his brow and sawdust sprinkled his thick hair. He wore his usual tunic around his waist, leaving him bare chested. Chasing after him was Howie, a leather tool bag being carried over his shoulder. Unlike Manfred, he was fully clothed.


"Sorry! Sorry I'm late, been busy helpin' the Kramer's fix their roof." Manfred wipes the sweat from his forehead and readjusted his tunic so he was fully clothed.  "What's all the fuss about?" He says looking about the room, observing the mixture of expressions on his fellow council members. Darla stands up from here seat, and sweeps her arms in a grand gesture, a pleasant smile on her face. The cloth of her emerald green robes sway with elegance as she welcomes both men. "Ah, Manfred it's good to see you've finally arrived. And it seems you've brought Howie with you! Lovely, it's always a pleasure to see you Mr. Honeyglow." 


Howie nods in reply, "Mornin' Darla." 


"Would you mind waiting for Manfred outside dear?"


"Sure thing."


"And would you mind just standing by the door? I imagine people will be coming by soon with questions. Would you let them in for me and help moderate the flow of those who seek council?"


"Not a problem at all miss." Despite having no clue what was going on, Howie agreed to help.


"Thank you dear." 


The carpenter then turns his back to the council and departs the building, closing the doors on his way out. He stands outside, the rising sun warming him up while he awaits whomever it is the council was expecting. 


Meanwhile in the longhouse, Manfred took his seat with the rest of the council looking around, still a tad confused. "So... whats going on?"


"Their was a fire at the Longhorn tavern."


"Oh... any casualties?" 


"A few. But, there are some... suspect things that happened during the fire. A few spectators were able to inform me about these goings on's and after consulting some of my tomes and Carmichael, I think I have a grasp on what this means. The Alteration of the World is coming. The Electi has arrived." 


Silence fills the room for a moment as Manfred processes this information. For a little while he just stares blankly at Darla, unsure of what to say before finally speaking. "A-and your sure of this?"


"As sure as one can be on these matters."


"And what are we doing right now?" Derek interjects at this point. "Well I would like to send some scouts to the Cave of Herz, but Darla won't let me. So instead we're just wasting our time sitting around here." Thomas laughs at this. "Aw, come one chap! No need to be sour 'bout it! You know that if Darla says something she's got some kinda' reason! She's more educated than you or I so I'd put my complete faith in her." 


"Well I'm a man of instinct! That's what's kept me alive as long as I've been. But, I will not argue that these subjects are not... in my realm of knowledge. So I will trust you on this Darla and Carmichael. But I will have you know I don't like this lack of action!"


"Thank you Derek for your input. As always you are appreciated." Darla clears her throat before continuing. "Anyway, to answer your question Manfred, right now we will wait for any who seek council with us. I have a feeling that we'll be having some important guests soon."


 @Angel_cassieopia @slayerslade666 @Handabooo @Kattz @Elephantom
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Briar saw a bright flash, and the pain ebbed away slowly.


As her thoughts cleared Briar realized she needed answers desperately. What was going on, why was she seeing things...why had her head suddenly felt as though it was going to split open...?


Though from the looks of things, Briar had not been the only one affected. The woman from before, now standing upright and checking herself, had appeared to go through a similarly painful experience. And so had the strange man called Biesh...


Something was definitely off about this, and Briar knew who to ask.


Lagna's council was the place to go for answers, it was where the lore keeper and other leads convened and offered their services to the people. If anyone would have insight into what was going on, it would be them. It would not be the first time Briar had sought their advice, in her early years in the village Briar would often go to the, with her numerous questions about Ramai culture and to talk about her speckled past. Briar had felt a outsider for many years, in spite of the love and acceptance given to her by her new family. Presently she still felt she had something to prove to truly show this was where her heart belonged, though Briar was the only one who felt this way.


Straightening herself Briar took a deep breath, reflexively she reached up to her throat and toyed with the ribbon currently wrapped around her neck, a nervous tick she often did when Briar was distressed or pondering her next move. She needed to see the council...maybe they would have the answers she needed. She was willing to bet they could help Biesh and the other stranger as well. So after collecting herself she walked over to the woman, another face she'd never seen before.


"Stranger...Did your head just feel like exploding too?" she asked, looking the stranger up and down. Her dark green eye showed confusion and curiosity. "...If so...the council may be able to help us..." she turned and looked to Biesh. "Beish...this goes for you as well" she called to the man who seemed to enjoy talking to himself.


@Handabooo


@Angel_cassieopia
 
[SIZE= 12px]Erik looked — in a most quietly intense manner — at the kneeling, tormented  girl, who remained evidently oblivious to both his presence and his calls, much to his dismay. The building was still very charred — nothing to change about it — and each step rendered the formerly solid ground into a soot-like powdery substance. Erik silently wondered the condition of the girl's knees, and whether it too picked up the grounded material. He cursed his profound, needless thoughts before proceeding to step back a bit.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Observing the current situation, Erik resolved that either this girl was quite dumb, or innately deaf. Both ways considered, Erik was still really annoyed; expressed by his furrowed brows, and an increasingly wavering pair of eyes. He steadily stepped back even further, unfazed by the sight before him; readying himself to exit the building and get that physician that the wounded needed quite urgently. That was when he was suddenly disrupted by one too many whispers, silent and subtle but seemingly increasing with every thought. He was astonished; attempts to block out the sound, or seek out its sources was fruitless. The sound came from everywhere, to which Erik realized that the sound emanated from within his brain, from his brain, and towards his brain. It increased, quickly and smoothly. From an array of whispers that promoted only lunacy, it extended to a roaring wave of shouts, talks and what could otherwise be recognized as the usual village ambience, albeit all at once.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]He staggered back, his limbs subconsciously occupied in trying to keep his footing intact as he remained disoriented. Not long after, the sounds escalated to a range that could only be described as utterly painful. He went down unto his knees; his face twisting into a strong grimace, followed by a louder grunt and loud mutterings of inaudible curses. He looked at the other people, all of whom were afflicted by this strange problem. However, Erik's minds wasn't in a proper state to attempt to decipher the situation.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]Fortunately, the sound subdued, almost quite instantly. His ears were still ringing, his mind was still weak; his inability to think properly was strong at that time. He promptly discovered that he too was kneeling — just like that girl — compelling him to gather his senses. He hastily planted his heavy feet into the ground — he was still quite shaky, one of his legs being damaged — before supporting himself on a large debris. He quickly stood up, quite firm yet a bit stunned. That was, when he noticed an armoured red-haired girl, oddly transparent in nature, and perched over the wounded man. Wait, fucking transparent? The scenario struck him like a train, however, his mind was unwilling to process it any further.[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]He staggered about, trying to focus on the situation, yet the attempts were so very fruitless. As he was about to react more properly, his mind was suddenly struck with words far more clearer than the ones he had heard before:[/SIZE]


Nam arma ad speluncam venit ut salvificem mundum.


Many thoughts started to race through his head:


What was it? What was it supposed to signify? What's happening? What's goin'on? Fight or flight?


The last was really just quite absurd — even to the likes of him. Unfortunately, that was what was only appearing on his head at that precise moment. The words were stamped, permanently, into his head, which was still raging with the excitement, and certainly not of the good kind. Suddenly, both the woman and the injured guy got enveloped in a parcel of light. Erik could only respond by slightly extending his hand, with a slight groan, almost beseechingly yet equally vigorously. The light subdued, but with it, the duo also went away; leaving Erik extremely frustrated.


Why did this happen? Why the guy? He did nothing wrong.


It was extremely puzzling for Erik, who regained his posture, and was furiously scratching his head. It was physically impossible. He took an deep breath; eager to calm his adrenaline-fuelled heart, and his breathless mind. He brushed the dust away from his pants, before proceeding to finally take a proper stance. His mind was fairly quiet by now, disturbed only by the sentence that was so etched into his mind. It left Erik perturbed.


The sceptical man looked at the scenario, taking momentary glances at the crowd of people that stood in the centre — crowd would be a wrong word though, there were only just three people. Believing that he just about nothing to do, he decided to join their hastily created league, with equal haste in his pace.


"Shit, damn woman snatched that guy." He paused, looking at the woman who was just recently in a similar condition to his, "You're probably right. 'Tis somethin' we must take to the authorities. The council of lagna."


[SIZE= 12px]@slayerslade666[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]@Handabooo[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 12px]@Angel_cassieopia[/SIZE]
 
The pain had been subdued, like it has never been there, but Beish felt something take its place. Words. No, a phrase, spoken by none around him. There was no voice, and yet it was spoken clearly, as if someone right before him had said the words. They were mysterious, and they sounded so delicate, but the cartographer had no idea of what they meant. 


Nam arma ad speluncam venit ut salvificem mundum.


 


The words were stamped upon his mind with an ink that could not be erased. He would remember this phrase, he knew, for he rest of his life. But why? What was so important? And what had just happened? Beish was a very confused man, but hat didn't stop him from looking for a logical solution. The people around him had all experienced that same phenomenon, and now they all seemed to be experiencing this feeling of insatiable curiosity.


Briar and the rather tall man had both agreed that they needed to go to the elders. While Beish would have rather done research first, he did feel this urge to find answers now. And the quickest way was indeed to see the elders. Despite his befuddlement, Beish decided that action was needed. He had to take the first step towards knowledge. Of course, this was nothing new for him. He was cultured and refined by society, while they were not. 


"Then I suggest we wait no longer," stated Beish as he turned to the council lodge. "Answers are needed, no?" He suspected that the elders had already gathered, considering what had happened, but he wondered if they already knew of the mysterious woman warrior. They seemed to know a lot, even perwonal things on occasion. Beish supposed that that was the reason they were elders. They were wise, or supposed to be. If they didnt have answers, then who would?


Not bothering to see if the others would follow, Beish reached the lodge and pushed the heavy doors open with a slight grunt. He wouldnt have considered himself an imposing figure(no, that would be left to he man-giant outside), but he was overbearing at times. And right now, he was impatient. "O elders, we seek your wisdom. What have you to say of these events?" While Beish was know to mutter, he could be heard when he wanted to be. And right now, he was talking a little louder than was needed. It was almost as if he couldn't help himself. 


@slayerslade666


@Elephantom


@Angel_cassieopia
 
Last edited by a moderator:

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top