Chapter One - Conflagration



 
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"That doesn't really sound like a question." Aevum had stopped a few steps ahead of Aevum. It was annoying that he needed to stop so much. He expected the chosen ones to rush into the portal but he should have known that the message he sent them would not transport them. He didn't have that ability yet.
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"The Gods wanted you dead Edward. That is why you were sent to the Goblins. But apparently they saw mercy in giving you a slim chance to make it here. Perhaps there is something within you that even you don't know."
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Joshua Gladiolus
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Emberborn, a newborn village in the shticks, in the boonies so to speak. On his way here, seeking new, un-monopolized business opportunities, the young traveling merchant, Joshua had been warned of heretical barbarians, free roaming wild beasts, and lawless bandits, which is odd, for what kind of bandits aren't lawless? The tax collectors perhaps? Regardless, young Joshua disregarded these warnings and went on, convincing himself that these stories were blown out of proportion and, due to the memory of his dear sister bailing him out of his debt still fresh in his mind, he was in a hurry to find himself a hole and not emerge for the time being. So seeing the opportunity for both fortune and getting away from it all, Joshua stocked up on goods, mapped out the quickest but also safest route, and headed off.


Figuring that the new town would lack certain facilities and craftsmen from the get go, the goods Joshua had primarily stocked up are tools and clothes to supply the new settlers with in the mean time, along with a few weapons in case the town found itself in danger, and the smith was unable to magically hammer then needed amount of blades in time. Of course, to not discourage the presence of local craftsmen (and also make some quick fortune while he's at it) Joshua brought in tools of somewhat lower quality, selling them at a price of standard and perhaps even above average quality tools. Due to this, while business is booming in the earlier days of development he had also earn some ire from the settlers. Very soon the settlers will soon stop buying from him entirely as more craftsmen settles in, and he'll have to move on.


Today, Joshua checks his inventory, all of which are stored in a make shift shed build by the settlers for him in exchange for goods in the early days, though it wasn't as if the town is that much older right now that it was two seasons ago. Still, the town is growing rapidly, perhaps too rapidly, perhaps in time it may attract the attention of bandits and robbers, perhaps it's time to jack up the pricing for the stock of weapons that were hardly sold., maybe high enough so that the average household would find difficult to pay, and maybe then, he'll suggest them a plan to pay in installments, introducing interests into the mix. Under normal circumstances, most would probably not buy,perhaps even try to barter. But if the town is to come under assault, then few would have the luxury to complain, yes? No? Maybe?


Speaking of paying, Joshua has yet another trouble, namely the fortune he has made, namely the stacks of fur pelts he's been paid in. Thing is, with the lack of craftsmen and raw materials, there's no currency to speak of, only fur pelts taken from hunts and they've been paying him with those ever since. Looking at the small hill of pelts, Joshua wonders if he and his donkey will be able to get all this through the mountain and all the way back to Amile in one trip. 


Won't those Satu Priest hurry up and convert them already? Heck, at the very least, introduce them to coins, otherwise, I don't think I want go through the trouble the second time.


"Well donkey," Joshua said to his four legged business partner, munching on carrots by the shed, "looks like there's rough roads ahead of us, and by us, I mean mostly you, so munch on as many carrots while you can, you'll need it." he said as he was about to unload another sack of carrots for the donkey, only to think better of it because carrots cost money too, in this case, pelts.
 
"Okay fine, it wasn't a question. More of a rant." Edward replied, stopping with Auvem. Whilst not paying attention, Edward felt like time slowed as he examined the area. It was a slow examination as he moved his head in a circle, giving much attention to the lush green area. "Now how can you do such a thing?" Edward's thought ended as he started to hear Auvem talking again. Ruining his small daydream. 


Edward listened to Auvem talk about the gods, Edward's own fate of death, except it didn't go so well. "Wait!" Edward yelled. "How am I supposed to die to something I don't believe in..?" It was true, Edward didn't believe in the things priests and priestess' would preach to fellow believers. He had such doubts, if there was gods, why do bad things happen. Fate? Other gods? It's too complicated for Edward's brain to wrap around, so he believes to disprove it.


Edward continued to talk. "Okay so.. Here's how you said it." He cleared his throat. "I was supposed to die, so I got sent to some goblins? Than the gods gave pity to me and gave me a slim chance to live?" He gave a questioning face. "How do you even know all of this?"


@Huey
 
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Beish was full to the brim with complaints, aches, and sore feet. Eric, the large man with the horse, had pushed them along at an increasingly difficult pace. Even with his trusty staff in his grip, Beish found that the rough roads were called rough for a reason. Without a proper bed, his back always ached in the morning, and his feet sometimes felt as if they were going to fall off.


In other words, Beish was thoroughly enjoying himself.


Excepting the time when he had been introduced to Satunum, he had never felt such purpose in his life. As the fresh air of the outside enveloped him, he could feel his soul be invigorated in a new hope. This itch that he had felt for adventure was being satisfied, but had not yet disappeared. He wanted something more, but he couldn't tell what that was. 


It was now the third morning of the group's adventure, and Beish was on watch duty for the last two hours before they went on their way. This was the one duty he did not like performing, particularly because it deprived him of those precious hours of sleep. He couldn't quite remember who had suggested t, but it had probably been Eric. That man was almost inhuman in his ways. Did he not know that Beish needed sleep? Everyone needed sleep! And what was there to guard for? There were no dangers in these lands; at least, as far as Beish could tell. 


It was in these early hours ot the morning that beish decided to take the time to think a bit. He took out his maps and his charts and poured over them, confirming that this path they were taking was indeed the correct one. To err in one's direction would be a grave mistake in the wild, and would demand much in cost. Beish was very sure that their direction was true, and knew that he would keep it as such. 


It was then that Beish came to think of his dreams. He was never one to wander through thoughts in his sleep, but the past two nights had been different. He had dreamt the same two dreams, each being incredibly detailed and mysterious in nature. He couldn't be sure if they were conincidence or not, but he knew that there was something unnatural about them. He had done his best to brother them, but their details continued to run through his head, trying to make present to him their meaning. But they were too odd, too long to make any sense of. He had stopped trying to desipher them, and instead just dwelt upon them.


As the first pale rays of sunlight rose above the hillson which they were camped, Beish got to his feet and decided to pace for a moment. It helped him to think and clear his head, which was what he knew he needed. He walked silently within the shadows of the trees, breathing in the clear morning air like water. It was refreshing, and sent the blood coursing through his veins in an effort to remain warm in the crisp atmosphere. As he made his way to the edge of a steep hill, he looked below him, and in surprise made out a village laying at the bottom of the valley. They had not seen it the night before, but Beish knew what it was. It was Emberborn, a new trading village that seemed to be flourishing in these past months. 


He would have liked to remain there for a bit, to see what the village had to offer, but he knew that Eric and Howie would never let the group stay long, if they even visited it at all. Those men were tough, and while Beish would never want to cross lines with them, he would not hesitate in speaking his mind to them. But there was something happening down in the valley, all about its outskirts. Something, or perhaps somethings, were moving about it. People? From all directions? Coming toward the village? An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Beish's stomach. Something felt very wrong here. 


He turned and went back to camp with hurried pace, now convinced that something was about to happen. He hurried to Howie's side and grasped his shoulder, shaking him firmly. "Howie! Come look. Something is going on down in the valley. It's the village of Emberborn, and... Just wake up!" Beish was not one for gentle awakenings. He didn't really care if anyone else awoke; he just knew that Howie would most likely know what to do.


@Throne Trinity
 
Erik slept away that night — oh how much he did sleep — swept away by a vigorous array of near-realistic, immersive dreams. The disturbance it could've provided to the old man was dampened by the depth of said man's sleep. As such, it was only faintly memorable.


The first dream was composed mainly of a series of brazen insanity, or at least scenarios that invoke the presence of brazen insanity; Erik didn't know, exactly. The atmosphere — along with the ambiance — was both lucid and dreamy, with an overarching pack of eagles providing a much needed sense of realism, even if it didn't feel quite right; 'Tis was the unfortunate scenario Erik seemed to have found himself in. 


The dream felt oddly realistic, though Erik failed to recognize it as a proper dream, still; Erik was damned sure he could feel the wind, the heat of it, on his weary back. The beads of sweat that appeared on his forehead increased that placid declaration. The sun was shining glaringly and increasing its shine by every minute that passed. Looking at it soon became more of a chore than actual visualizing. In effect, seeing itself became a chore; Erik squinted his eyes into the tiniest of slits. 


The sound — or more precisely, sounds, for it resonated the reverberations of an amalgamation of winds — of the wind was occasionally disrupting by the shrieking call of the birds of prey that flew over him. There was the distinct smell of sulfur — rotten eggs — in the air. It furiously teased his nose and threatened to do so even more, much to Erik's annoyance. He stood up; he realized he was sitting plainly on the sandy, hard ground. The ground was cracked dry albeit really sandy. Piles of rocks with mounds of sands, were strewn across the floor. His body, his hair, everything, was abysmally dusty. The soothing ambience that was the wind, became slightly more stronger, though furthermore calming too. He looked around, seeking a visual clue as to why he was here. Pangs of alarm raged on in his heart. 


Why was he covered in dust? It was the first and foremost question that reverberated in his head.


The olive bag nestled snuggly beside him. Erik realized that he had failed to conceive its presence. Gingerly wrapping his fingers around the sling, he yanked it towards him. He examined the bag, that too with great detail — it was exactly the same. But as to exactly why he did it, was of concern. Primarily Erik's concern, but concern nonetheless. As Erik was deep in his thoughts, the bag suddenly moved. Erik's hand instinctively rushed away from its reaches, his heart now racing with anxiety. Was he seeing right? The bag promptly rotated to face Erik, who promptly received the answer to his question. 


'I heal and wait for you, my chosen. Much time has passed, much has changed.'


He looked at it, surprised by its apparent sentience. Why was it relayed by a bag? Why?


"You can t-talk?" Erik spat out after a moment of brief disbelief, relaying his question. His tone was nervous, and slightly slurred. "Bags can't talk." He continued, albeit in a considerably more quiet tone. The bag stayed still; the man could feel the bag staring at him, with utter patience, of course. Suddenly, without receiving the answer he desired, the world faded away to oblivion as he fell towards the abyss that was now the ground. Abyss, as in just black. An endless pit. Images flashed before his eyes, so did a monologue accompanying it. One could really feel it was practiced beforehand, by the robotic nature of it.


The first image, was that of a young man leaning across a tree — a very large tree or so it seemed — dressed entirely in unusual clothes. It seemed that the person had an eye for the latest fashion, something Erik wasn't really that very keen on. The old man was a bit envious. The place was swamp-like, very realistic, of course. He could notice the dry grass strewn across the more drier areas. Erik couldn't decipher its origins. 


'The time for conflict has come. There is much for you to learn and not enough time. I need you, Hudol needs you.'


"What?" Erik said. He actually failed to pay proper concentration, but of course, that could've been his mind playing the role of denial.


The scene seamlessly moved forward into a different image; moving through the river and into the places beyond. It was definitely quite different from the image before, yet Erik couldn't notice any sort of transition. He saw flames; a fiery, dark horse. Locked in combat with a different horse; purely white, and full of life. There was no need for a monologue to signify it, Erik knew they were the embodiments of evil and good, respectively. 


'We prepare for you. Everyone. It comes the time to become our true selves. To be our destiny. To live and slay the imbalanced.'


"Would you kindly answ-" Erik tried to interject, but was broken off. Another image faced him, that of a large, monstrous beast. In the midst of a grey smoky landscape. It too, moved to a different scenario before Erik could comprehend the previous image, and the image before it. 


'Come to me. See the Gods. Hurry, before more escape the Holding Grounds. Mischief is loose...'


The voice quickly trailed off. The image was a cave; a cave with a weird thing in it. Erik failed yet again to acknowledge the scenario. The world around him shattered into pieces, as he started falling all over again.


-


He woke up, with a furious jolt. It was dawn; the weather was chilly, though Erik could feel the cold sweat slowly creeping across his body. His arms were littered with various goosebumps. Whether it was the excitement, or the anxiety of what lied ahead, was something he was never going to be sure of. He lifted himself up, although not fully standing. He put a hand to his face, rubbing his forehead. He could feel that he was all too bedraggled. Brushing his beard into a more watchable appearance, Erik stood up. The fire was long extinguished. He remembered the events of the previous night, it was Beish's turn to guard the folks. Perhaps he was a bit too cruel with him? Erik thought, before quickly declining it. That kid needed some straightening, or he'd forever be a paranoid sissy. 


Just as he was thinking, he saw — from the corners of his eyes — Beish trying to wake Howie. Did he require a short potty break? Erik felt, in the inner pits of his stomach, that something way more sinister was going on. You know, that feeling of subtle dread that you just can't shake off; the one that comes just before trouble. That one.


He advanced towards Beish. "What happened, kid? Anything wrong?" He said, his tone raspy and slightly slurred — he now realized he was rather parched. He pat the man's back, lightly but one could feel the roughness of it. Erik really wasn't that used to patting people's backs; he was more of an onion guy, he was used to patting onions. But then again, Beish probably was like an onion: so many layers, a pungent and overwhelming presence, and requiring the dutiful watch and supervision of a farmer.


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


[SIZE= 12px]@Throne Trinity[/SIZE]
 
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Aspen felt tired and lonely. She hadn't spoken a word, the only communication was nods. She felt scared and ponderous for what was to come. She had always sat away from everyone, at late night she would wake up, if she wasn't already, and stare at the stars 


She was weak and starving now though and didn't understand what was happening.
 
Needless to say, the first day of their ill-defined journey ended in a blur. Lexis wouldn't say she hadn't expected the silent course. There was little to speak about much less converse of when you're in a group of strangers thrown together by something as ambiguous as fate.


The apprentice had kept to herself, as was the norm, bringing up the rear end of their small pack. Although there were no discussions made, the enormous man, so named Erik, had taken lead of their trek through the winding mountain pass. Lexis had no qualms about it; the man appeared physically able albeit ill-tempered and hurried on his feet, forcing them along in a hasty pace. The physical toil had kept Lexis' anxiety at bay. For years, she had stayed sheltered in Lagna; this was her first venture outside the town since. In addition, she had no inkling of the paths they were to take towards the Cave; her memories of the time she was brought through this mountains by the Lore Keeper's entourage were but a haze. It was mighty helpful that the bearish man, Beish as he was called, proved to be a mapmaker. It fascinated Lexis. She had read of tales of men entering the mountain and never leaving, their souls left to wander. It was of no mystery to her now as the pebbles on the ground were as alike as the leaves on each tree they've passed. To be able to tell where to thread was a feat in itself. 


Sundown bought them a few hours of restless sleep, though Lexis had mostly spent the night reading under what meager light the moon provided. Of what little sleep she allowed herself to that second night, the most peculiar of dreams proceeded to plague her. They were as palpable as the hard ground she swore she fell asleep on, the words echoing within her consciousness. 


I heal and wait for you, my chosen. Much time has passed, much has changed.


The time of conflict has come. There is much for you to learn and not enough time. I need you, Hudol needs you.
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We prepare for you. Everyone. It comes the time to become our true selves. To be our destiny. To live and slay the imbalanced.
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Come to me. See the Gods. Hurry, before more escape the Holding Grounds. Mischief is loose...
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Lexis awoke with a start. It was partly due to the dream, and partly due to the alarm raised by Beish as he stormed into their littlest camp and shook the carpenter awake. Erik was also on his feet, as well as Aspen, the young girl with an eye-patch who, not unlike her, had not spoken a word throughout the hike. Gingerly, she sat up, catching the word "Emberborn" from the man's slur. Recent scripts have spoken of the small yet prosperous trading town and its Ramai priestess, with word of the ruler's ardor for the polytheistic religion. Curious to finally have an image of the village she had only known in writing, Lexis headed towards the edge of the hill and saw not only the village itself, but the creatures crawling towards the settlement. The young lady stepped back in fear. She had known of abominations threading the lands during the great betrayal; the teacher's tomes have spoken of them. Yet the creatures below were unlike any illustration she had seen before. Were they the imbalanced that her dreams had warned of?


Turning back towards the camp she stood just behind Erik, careful not to get too close, and spoke, "There are creatures." It was vague, she realized, and continued, "The village might be in danger."


@Elephantom


@Throne Trinity


@Handabooo


@Angel_cassieopia
 
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"Creatures?" Erik muttered, acknowledging her words. He was visibly confused, evident as he cast a rapid glance to the air, before looking back towards her. "We might as well go and greet them, shouldn't we?" His tone was, more or less, indifferent. He was a quick learner. It didn't take long for his mind to grasp all the meaningless subjects, or at least subdue his clinging denial. He silently patted Beish's back, before beckoning them to ready and freshen up; it wouldn't take a detective to figure out that what he truly meant was to ready for a short skirmish.


"Excuse me." He murmured, solemnly, before briskly advancing towards what seemed to be his sleeping site; a proper bed, it certainly wasn't. But it did its job.


He reached his place, a lonesome spot — quite farther from the other's, and the fireplace — close to an overarching tree, its branches shaking faintly. The sound of the leaves brushing between themselves clung to the airy atmosphere. He picked up his sword, prudently caressing its handle, before taking it with its entirety including the scabbard and the belt. The horse — who was awake now — softly grunted. He brushed its head in response. The least he could probably do, was wake the others up. Speaking of which, where was that young girl? It seemed as if she oft remained hidden from the others. Or perhaps, she was stuck in an eternal potty break time loop? Either way, it was somewhat of his duty to take care of the others.


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He walked about the area — it wasn't all that very difficult to catch sight of the young girl. She was visibly perturbed, and also quite detached from the others. 'Disturbed' would be a correct word. She was one strange individual, Erik never understood exactly why she carried that sword of hers all the time. She was too young to be a sellsword or something of the likes. She seemed to stay quiet all the time, eerily quiet. Perhaps he himself was at fault a bit, for being too cold to her and others. He really couldn't help it; he was most probably the last person anybody would want to talk to if they wanted social advices. 


He quietly proceeded towards her. She was awake, the man realized now. "Anything wrong, kid?" It was true that he wasn't at the best of his moods that day; it seems as if one day he was extremely active, the other, strangely passive. War did strange things to men, or more accurately, the men who didn't aspire to be butchers to their own kind.


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


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


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


[SIZE= 12px]@Throne Trinity[/SIZE]
 
Aspen breathed in deeply, quiet she felt as tears slowly bubbled along the brim of her eyes. The stars always reminded her of her mom, they had always looked at the constellations together. 


She tucked her arms behind her head, the tears running down her cheeks. It had been a long trip and she felt dazed. She had been at the back of the grouo, as well as one other female. Aspen thought, was her name lexis? She thought so. The leader was a man named Erik, and the man she had been watching back in the longhouse, was name beish. 


The low sound of footsteps startled her, but she resisted moving. She steadied her breathing, trying to seem asleep. Her black hair was pulled into a braid, tied off with a ribbon. The only thing that would give her away, was the reflex of clenched fists. 


She heard that something was going on in the main camp, but she didn't want to see. She stared up, a gentle stream of salt water running down her cheeks.


She realizes someone is talking to her. She sat up, looking at him. He was strong looking and, a great leader. But he didn't seem to be in a great mood. 


"I'm..... I'm not a kid.." she started quietly. Her voice feeling strange to her from not talking for so long. "But, I'm fine..." 


Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, a finger running over it.
 
Briar was no stranger to long and arduous journeys, the first two days were sent in relative silence as she tried to make sense of everything that had happened.


So much had taken place over a few short days, it made the woman's head hurt. She didn't understand why  the others had been chosen for this mission. she didn't know why she of all people had been selected, a former Satu noble who had run away from her homeland, abandoning her only brother to a life with the church. Thinking back on these actions made her blood boil, when this happened she'd often charge ahead of the others, stewing silently over her own weakness. She should've gone back for him...


Night brought no peace for the one eyed sell sword, because her dreams were plagued with fantastic visions, visions that she often forgot when the sun rose and roused her from her sleep. She remembered bits and pieces of a voice speaking, and a fantastic battle between two figures... Then the ground would shake and... Ugh. She'd just shake her head, silently wishing whatever god or entity was attempting to send their message would just do it while she was awake. Briar almost never remembered her dreams, unless they were nightmares. Those would haunt her waking hours, until she found an outlet for the pent up emotions.


Briar didn't talk a lot to her fellow travelers, mostly because she was lost in thought, and partly because she wasn't the social butterfly her mother had wanted her to be. Briar preferred expressing herself with her sword and combat to quiet conversation. She only knew a few of the faces in their group, the big tall man, who she'd learned was called Eric, Beish, who was doing better with the journey that Briar had thought he would, and Howie, the carpenter from town. There was that quiet girl, and the one Briar had seen in the longhouse with the council, but she didn't know their names or stories. It didn't really matter, so long as everyone was working toward the same goal. 


The first two days were a silent blur, with Briar keeping to the fringe of the group, ever wary of an attack from well, anything. Unlike the others, when night fell, she climbed up into a tree and slept there, a skill she'd acquired from tree climbing as a youth. She'd gotten stuck once and had to wait all night for help, so she slept. Now, whenever she traveled, it was her preferred place to be, as she was hidden from those who might want to attack from the road.


Briar was asleep in her tree, when Beish came into the cam, raising the alarm. though she was groggy, she cracked an eye open, seeing Beish shaking Howie and Eric getting to his feet roused her to action. With a yawn and a few mumbled words about it being ungodly early, she climbed down, strapped on her sword and approached the group."What's going on/' she asked with a yawn as she approached Beish, who was trying to wake the sleeping carpenter. Hearing the quiet woman mention that there was a village under attack, Briar's features hardened and her hand went to her sword. "Alright, that's something worth waking up for..." she looked to Beish, who had yet to wake Howie. Briar envied the carpenter's ability to sleep through the commotion. "Beish, you were on watch, what did you see?"


@Elephantom


@Throne Trinity


@Handabooo


@Angel_cassieopia


@YanaAi
 
There are few things Howie likes in this world. The most deplorable of these things of course would be his job, something he had worked hard to obtain. For a long time it was all he had known, and he was content with that. His carpentry trade had allowed him to fix things for others, which deep down, Howie knew was the only way to fix himself. However, the carpenter was not working now, and instead he had found himself partaking in some bullshit spiritual quest, and out of the very few things that Howie did actually like, not doing his job and bullshit spiritual quests were certainly not on that list. Even being without his work for only two days, Howie's sour mood had seemed to sour even more, making his already brooding presence that more unpleasant. Needless to say, the man was not all to pleased with his current situation.


However, he had promised to protect Darla's apprentice (whose name he still couldn't recall) and when given a task, Howie never failed to complete it. So the carpenter bit his tongue and took his licks with stoic grace, making sure to never be far from the girl he had been told to protect. And even though the giant didn't really interact with the small silent child outside of the occasional stare or gruff nod, he knew she understood his purpose to being here. 


So all in all, Howie was none too pleased with his current position. But of course things could always get worse. And they did.   


"Howie! Come look. Something is going on down in the valley. It's the village of Emberborn, and... Just wake up!"


"What!? What!? Fuckin' for fuck's sake give me a..." Howie's voice trailed off, turning into a low grumble while he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He quickly got to his feet and listened to everyone clamour, trying to discern what was happening in his early morning haze. 


Feeling a tad befuddled by the whole prospect of 'creatures', the carpenter moved to the edge of the hill and stared down to the village of Emberborn, trying to get a look for himself. The village itself seemed fine for now but he could see in the thickets and foliage a band of... somethings approaching the small town, the glint of their weapons shining dangerously in the early sunlight. Howie moved slightly closer, trying to get a better view of the group. 


They seemed to be some sort of band of forest dwelling bandits, possibly a group of desperate lepers trying to make a quick buck. It was hard to discenrn much else from this distance, but Howie knew they meant business.


With an agitated sigh Howie went back up the hill to his bedroll and pack, quickly picking up his hatchet and attaching the chopping device to his belt. He then continues to grumble inaudibly (although some very rude words can be deciphered from his rough, throaty mumblings) as he begins to remove his tunic. As his shirt comes off, an intricate network of scar tissue and tattoos becomes visible. The network seems to coalesce around Howie's hulking figure, forming a collage of pain and bad life decisions. The scars themselves are not much to speak of, just an assortment of knife wounds and probably scars caused by intense and repeated bludgeoning. However, the one thing that stands out more than anything else amongst the various tattoos and scars is one design in particular. 


In the middle of Howie's chest is a honeycomb in basic hexagonal formation. The center of this formation holds a bee, and above it all, the tattoo reads: "King of The Crucible".


As Howie throws his shirts to the ground and begins to march off, all the while still grumbling. As he makes it a few steps, he stops and turns to the group, more pointedly, to Lexi. "You... Lexicon? Come with me. It's easier to make sure you don't die if you're with me. All the rest of you..." Howie seems to contemplate his thoughts on the group for a moment, before a look of realization crosses his face. "I actually don't care what you all do, as long as you don't stop me from doing my goddmaned job." Looking satisfied with his words of encouragement, Howie continues down the hill at a brisk walk towards the nearest bandit. 


Bare and calloused feet clobber the soft green forest flooring, not in anyway masking his aproach. As he gets about fifteen feet away from the closest, what Howie assumes to be a leper, he whistles loudly trying to get it's attention.


@Huey @slayerslade666 @Elephantom @Handabooo @YanaAi @Angel_cassieopia 
 


 
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As you progress down the hill there are four creatures creeping toward the market, they are bickering in high pitched whispers about who is going to eat the donkey and who would eat the young man feeding it carrots. Because of this they ignored the obvious sounds of an approaching warrior behind them until the loud whistle sounded. They looked back and each gave their own version of a snarl.
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The creatures screamed. Two charged at Howie and another two charged at Joshua and the donkey. Around the village all the creatures yelped and charged into the village brandishing unsharpened and dirty weapons.
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"Do you believe in this?" Aevum said as he poked where the hole in his shoulder was. "Do you believe you fought creatures you have never seen before?" He shoved Edward in the ribs and where the bruises were. "There are many things that we can never imagine were real, but when they are presented in front of us there are two things that can happen."
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Aevum stepped back and lifted his hands. Light exploded from the palms of his hand. At first it was purely white light then every color of the spectrum erupted in wisps from his palms to conjoin in an image above his hands that both of them could see. First it was an image of a tall man named Erik battling himself in his mind, muttering and trying to pull things together.
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"You can let it drive you insane."
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The light shifted to reveal a bare chested man named Howie covered in tattoos and scars brandishing a hatchet at two Goblins, a silent yell coming from their mouths.
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"Or you can face it head on, accept it, and conquer it."
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Aevum's hands lowered and the images dissipated.
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"The Gods have visited me and educated me on what is happening. I was a non-believe, a bland Priest of Satu before everything happened. They've given me an opportunity and I don't plan on wasting it Edward."
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You both feel something watching you but you can't place it.
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As Howie began to stir, Beish began to feel relieved. He had been worried that the man would never wake, leaving their group defenseless. Well... That probably wasn't true. Erik could probably hold his own, and both Briar and Aspen looked pretty deadly. Beish was probably the only person on this journey that was unable to defend himself. That probably wasn't a good thing. 


The man almost toppled over as he felt a sudden pressure on his back. Turning quickly, and almost stepping on Howie in the process, Beish locked his eyes on the source of the blow. It, of course, was Erik. Why? Why did he torture him like this? Was he intent on giving him a heart attack? It was infuriating. As he muttered a question, Beish simply glared at the man as Lexis answered him. 


More questions came from Briar, causing Beish's blood to boil. Could she not see that he was confused as well? "I don't know, Thorn. Why don't you go see for yourself?" In truth, Beish was frightened. If those creatures he saw decided to come up the hill... Would he survive? He never came along on this journey just to die from a raid from unknown creatures!


The man clenched his jaw in worry as he turned to face Howie once more, who had woken with a few colorful words. He coukd tell in the way that he looked at him that he thought he was weak. A babe in the wilderness. And it was true. While Beish might have been more intellectual than most, he was not the bravest, nor did he have physical skill. A part of him had hoped thwt he could change on this journey, but as of yet, he had grown even more reserved and grumpy. It seemed hopeless. 


Perhaps... Perhaps Ivros had been a crazy old man. Perhaps this was a wild-goose-chase.  Perhaps this was all for nothing. Beish could feel his heart race in frustration as he turned from everyone and made his way over random blankets, supplies, and personal belongings to his pack. There it was, in the corner, all tucked away neatly and not in the way. It was just like him. Of course, he could be in the way if he chose to be, but he was an introvert by heart. Everything he had done before, such as bursting into the hall and demanding answers, had not been himself. He had been striving to be something he was not. 


But something caught Beish's eyes. As others made their way to the edge of the hill, most likely to their deaths, the man spotted Aspen. Now, there was a puzzle. She was too small, too thin, too quiet. His self-pity began to drift away as he stared at the girl. Ans that was what everyone treated her as: a girl. A small child. Like him... Almost. 


Oh, why was he so foolish? So self-centered? Why did he mourn himself when others were worse off than him? These thoughts popped into Beish's head for a moment before being forgotten. Without knowing why, the man opened his pack and, placing his hand around a small fruit of some sort, tossed it in the direction of the girl. It was likely she wouldnt catch it, considering how out-of-the-blue it was, but perhaps it would be appreciated. Why was he doing this? Beish couldn't exactly figure out why.


@Angel_cassieopia @Elephantom @slayerslade666
 
"Y'know, girl. You should join the group camaraderie sometime." Erik remarked with a restrained smile. Admittedly, he wasn't quite sure if there was any sign of bare friendship between his companions in the past three days, but in fact, their relationship just might've grown even more colder. In spite of that, an introduction was a thing that Erik mightily appreciated, and also expected. Nevertheless, Erik realized his perverse sense of observation was coming to an abrupt end, replaced by offhand stoicism. He looked at the girl, who had boldly declared that she wasn't after all a girl, even though the comparison of a middle-aged man and a youthful woman were extreme. Sheer compensation for a looming insecurity, Erik thought of it as. 


"Get up, kiddo. We got some real—"


An unexpected sneeze interrupted his flow of conversation. Sleeping too much usually did that to him. It would take a lot more to wholly deter him though.


"—business to deal with. Real business." He hastily stated — speech slightly slurred — before proceeding to walk towards the original campsite, and in turn, also go towards where the 'creatures' were. It was killing two birds with one stone, and in this case, it meant the girl and that paranoid guy. Still, he was effectively hindered by his crippled leg, which duly meant that he was going to be a gigantic pile of late — something for the punctuate to gloat about — with getting to this village. Using a horse meant taking a longer route, which more or less, meant the same thing. Horses don't navigate through bushy terrains, at least not his. That beast was arrogant, prideful. Only paths, not even shitty ones. Erik grunted in response to his own thoughts. He could swear he heard the horse grunt too, as if it could read his mind.


"T-t-telepath!" He silently hissed.


The night before, he got a lot of sleep — some wack nightmares too — but a lot of sleep don't necessarily mean a good sleep; as was the case with Erik, who was being continuously troubled by a dull pain in the back of his head, occasionally interrupted with brief sharp pangs. Most likely, these were caused by the aforementioned wack nightmares. Something which vaguely involved his equally wack backpack. Maybe it was the 'shrooms that they ate yesterday. Maybe it was. 


Breathing was a difficult chore, tedious actually. It irked Erik to no end. 'Hocus pocus' was what Erik preferred to describe all these as — including the preposterous assumptions that the clearly delirious Beish proposed to them. To some solid degree, that kid required a good slap or two to wake him up from this feverish daydreaming. He was doggone crazy! That determined sonovabitch'. Erik was lost in his thoughts again. This wasn't good. Beish wasn't good. He meant bad news.


Erik sighed, he couldn't do anything about it, not now at least. The last thing he wanted was for the people to enact some sort of mutiny against him. Mutiny, he thought. Mutiny. He cast a dragged glance towards the girl behind him. He stopped in his track. The word bounced around his head rapidly; he could almost envision the scenario, the rest of the group voting against him. Terrible! Erik softly shuddered before realizing the awkwardness of the situation. He had been absent-mindedly staring at the little girl. Shaking off his trance with a thick, gruff grunt; he went towards the proposed destination.


That was until Beish came in the scenario, it was quite a sudden action; he went towards the girl, completely and utterly ignoring the wholesome Erik, before proceeding to give said girl some fraudulent food items. It was sudden, that was for sure. Sudden. Suddenly. What? Erik almost gagged at the sight of Beish's inhumane structure. Or was it hyperbole? Erik couldn't make sense of anything. He tried to examine the situation at hand. Was it the 'shrooms? Was it? He could feel the tension increasing, as if he was being thoroughly watched. Paranoia. Vile, vile paranoia. Raw, terrific. Literal. Words. Word. 


Erik shook his head. Now was the worst of times to get insane. He wasn't going to be the next Beish. That was the least of possibilities that was going to happen here. He decided to concentrate on the task going on at the current moment. He walked with a steadied pace, getting a good view of the town from over the hill.


The town — it faintly resembled an encampment of sorts, not really that established like Lagna — was fairly visible; in strong contrast with his foggy mind. Bypassing the lines of bushes teetering on the edge of the hill, one can clearly end up on a sloped section; it can be easily slid down on, but could be hard to climb back up, unless said climber was a crazy monkey. The town, it was easy to view. Distant, yet soft to the eye. Too bad they only dealt in stupid furs. That meant an end to a room at the inn — if they had one, to be precise — and a queer session of binge drinking. Erik angrily and furthermore briskly marched towards the main campsite. His keen eyes sighted Howie rushing for his target. Dryly, of course. Howie was the last person you could expect to be even vaguely social.  As if there wasn't enough salt on his wounds already, Howie clearly intended to snatch his operation away from him.


"Blasted onions! Howie and company got the lead. We gotta hurry up, kiddy." He furiously beckoned for the girl — and Beish — to follow with more vigour, as he increased the speed of his own pace. He had to outrun that stupid guy, and that stupider Beish and his stupidest goons. It was a totem pole of idiocy, one that Erik wanted no part in. Never. Though, he soon conceived an idea: he could use Beish as a sort of cannon fodder. It was exactly what that man was built for. 


"Beish!" He shouted for the man. "Since you're an accomplished scholar, I'm going to have to assign you the job of leadership. Temporarily." He paused slightly. "Take that, uhh, big stick over there; you're going to the frontlines." Erik dryly stated before muttering a series of curses, yet again. Beish was going to have to make himself useful, and Erik was probably going to have to teach him on the basics of making himself useful. It was, frankly, a trial by fire. Or more precisely, sticks and stones.


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


[SIZE= 12px]@Angel_cassieopia[/SIZE]
 
"W-Wait!" The word was out of her mouth before Lexis could stop it. She had given the warning out of fear for the village, but it was clear that she should have paid heed to the safety of their small group first. Erik and Howie's decisions perturbed her. If they wanted to assist Emberborn, they should have decided on a different path (if one still existed) to the village to warn them of this peril, or around the creatures to avoid the mass. Charging them head on was akin to suicide! Yes, the two men appeared able, as was the lady whom Beish had referred to as Thorn, and Lexis assumed that in some way Beish and Aspen knew how to defend themselves. But Lexis knew nothing of combat, at least not of this kind. Darla had not approved of the training Carmichael had wished for her as he did their late son, for the teacher wanted to shield her from the strife she had been born to. If they only knew what the gods had in store for them, things would have proceeded differently. She had brought her old dagger for some semblance of self-defense, but even then she had hoped that there would be of no use for it.


Now as she ran after the carpenter who nary a time pronounced her correct name, the apprentice could hear the blood pounding in her ears. The fear that been bubbling in the pit of her stomach had risen to her throat, the bile bitter against her tongue. The sight of the creatures up close did nothing to appease her fright. They looked horrid, their stench drifting through the air and their grunts and snarls haunting her ears. O' Kurator... what have you brought us to? was the young girl's plea as she cowered behind the carpenter, her knuckles white as she clutched the rusted dagger. 


@Throne Trinity
 


 
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As you shout to the evil Beish you feel a slight pressure on your shoulders. As you try to look over you see a teal figure and on your left shoulder you see a purple figure.
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"Psst..." The teal figure whispered in your left ear. "My beautiful broken baboon. You should kick that wannabe Bear."
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The purple figure on your right shoulder yelled, "NO! You should tickle him with a feather, he will pee himself and it will disable him so you can kill him!"
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No one could see these figures but you see them animate as they gesticulate.
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Joshua ran, he ran as fast as he could. The creatures, the hideous creatures. What are they? Bandits? Maybe, who cares, they're green and they're dangerous, that's all Joshua needs to know. He had to run, he didn't even regret doing what he did, he didn't have the time.


The screams caught him off guard, immediately he knew that those does not belong to any humans. He wondered what kind of hideous creature would make that kind of sound and once he turned to meet them, he realized that, yes, they are hideous, but more importantly, they each brandish a weapon, dirty, unsharpened knives, though it surely seemed sharp enough to kill. Joshua panicked, he slapped his donkey to get that lazy ass moving and he himself began running towards the center of the village, but as he made some distace, he can hear his donkey whining with that sound it makes, like a cross between a geese and a obese man trying to run up a hill, the sound that goes "hee-haw". There was a sense of desperation in that annoying sound, and when Joshua turns back to look, he realized that his donkey is stuck on a leash, the leash that he placed onto it himself, the leash that he forgot to undo before running. He could go back, he could fight back those hideous creature, he might win... yes, might win. Joshua, in the end, decided against that gamble, resigning himself to having to hear the anguished whines of his long time partner as he ran off, not even looking back.


Joshua ran, as fast as he could, and as he does so, he yelled, he yelledd like he had never before, and this man is a merchant mind you.


"Bandits! Bandits are attacking! F*cking bandits!"


He yelled, he kept yelling. He'd give away all that second rate weapons he had stocked up if he still have them at this point. So long as it saves the village, so long as it saves himself.


@MedievalMethods
 
With a sharp exhale, Howie swung his hatchet downward. But what the hatchet struck was not disgustingly poked skin, but rather the soft soils of forested earth. In one fluid motion, Howie had dug his hatchet into the earth before sliding into a wide fighting stance. With his left foot facing his opponent and his fists low, he was ready.


As the the two charged towards Howie, the carpenter quickly analyzed his opponents. They were using weapons, but their reach was still significantly shorter than his. Using this to his advantage, Howie thrust his left hand forward as if to jab but instead aimed to catch the bandits wildly swinging hand, and pirouette the blade it held into the other lepers hand, hopefully disarming the both of them. 


@Huey
 
Briar arched an eyebrow as Beish snapped at her. Well, someone was clearly frightened. Not the kind to be snapped at, Briar glared at Beish as he scrambled away. "You always did strike me as a coward. Guess now I know why" she snapped at the man before turning and heading toward the edge of the hill. She was angry at herself for letting the frightened man under her skin, but didn't give it too much thought.


The scholarly man had never struck the woman as a fighter, and this reaction only proved her point. Sighing she trudged down the hill, drawing her sword in the process. While Briar preferred a stealthy approach, she was more than capable of aiding in a frontal assault, so she followed after Howie as quick as possible to offer the man some back up. She wondered if the other woman and Erik would be joining them on the battlefield, but didn't give it too much thought. Whatever they wound up doing was irrelevant as soon as Briar stepped onto the battlefield. It was all about survival and ensuring that she, and ideally her comrades, would all survive these monster's attack.


As she arrived the other monsters were attacking the village, sword drawn Briar engaged the first ones she caught up with, much like Howie she whistled to get a small groups attention. If they focused on her, then ideally they wouldn't harm a civilian. That was the plan at least.


@Handabooo@Huey
 


 
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The monsters yelped as they were thrust upon each other. Their filthy weapons flying from their grasp, one going over Howie's head to land near Lexis' feet.
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"Bargh! You filthy hewmen!" One of the monsters roared as it shoved off its partner and jumped toward Howie. The other creature scrambling from the ground to run at the frail looking woman behind the brute named Howie.
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Just before contact with both Howie and Lexis, the two monsters cringed, their eyes closed and their shoulders hunching. This caused them to pause momentarily.
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Three monsters face Briar, roaring at the top of their lungs. These three seem larger than the rest. They are brimming with muscle and stand at about five feet tall. They and their weapons are cleaner and obviously better taken care of.
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"Come here pretty! I'll eat your other eye!" The one in the middle spreads his arms wide, the skull at the center of his waist is something from a nightmare. "I'll eat your body piece by piece!" He let his head fall back, his mouth flying open as spittle erupted as he roared.
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A deep crackling roar sounded throughout the village and the hill above. The lesser monsters all cringed, livestock went into a craze and ran.
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Lexis had stayed rooted on her spot even as Howie began swinging his hatchet. As her sights remained fixed on the skirmish in front of her, she could now see the disturbing myriad of old scars that littered the carpenter's skin. Were those brought about by carpentry? She knew little of the craft, yet it was doubtful that it would have been the cause. Manfred had been known to sport the occasional wounds and breaks but not to this extent. Was there more to this man's history that the scars made to tell?


She was left to brood for another time as the creatures' weapons cut sharply through the air, one of them digging into the ground by her feet. One of them roared ― was that human speech? Did these creatures have intellect? What on Hudol's earth were they?!


"Aaahh!!!" The apprentice shrieked as the other monster scrambled towards her. Her legs now akin to lead, she lost footing and fell to the ground on her bottom, the old dagger slipping from her grasp. Helpless, Lexis threw her arms in front of her; the act reminded her gravely of the instances when she shielded herself from her father's beatings. It dredged up cold and unwanted thoughts that were of no aid to her current predicament.


Even if it wasn't him...


Just then, another ear-deafening roar sounded throughout the hill. The creature about to attack her cringed and stopped on its tracks. Lexis knew a chance had been given but she stayed still in fright. "W-What's happening?" Her voice barely carried over the din of the birds' squawking in fear as they flew rashly overhead, away from whatever made that dreadful cry.


@Throne Trinity
 
Successfully disarming his opponents, Howie readied himself for the next attack. He quickly switched his stance, his bare feet sliding across the ground with trained deftness so that his right foot was in his front of his left. Now in the Southpaw stance, Howie could more easily defend himself. 


There was no amusement or joy apparent on the carpenters face as he brought the goblins down on each other, but instead a look of pure annoyance. If the circumstances had been different, Howie might have gotten a slight kick out of showing a couple bandits not to mess with him, but right now he had a job, and these... things, were getting in his way. Why was it so hard for the man to do his goddamned job? It was a question he asked himself frequently despite already knowing the answer. People. People were the reason Howie had such a hard time doing his goddamned job. People were problematic, they complicated things. Did these things in front of him classify as people? It didn't matter to him, they were just as troublesome as most.


Howie tightened his leg muscles and stood on the balls of his feet, getting ready to side step the approaching goblin, but just then the second one attempted to scramble past Howie to Lexis. However, before it could attack, a roar is heard emanating from a different part of the woods. Paying no heed to the bestial cry, Howie is ready to attack. "Oh, no you don't you little green fucker!" With a calculated quickness Howie attempted to use his right foot to kick out the goblins legs before using the kicks momentum to bring down a particularly nasty right hook onto the goblin getting ready to jump him.  


@Huey
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Briar, standing at 5'1, weighing 110 wet, stared down the three monsters.  She showed no fear, in spite of the fact she was outnumbered, and out classed when it came to brute strength.


Spotting a rock beside one of her feet, she knelt down, picked it up and hurled it at the lead goblin with a surprising amount of strength, aiming for his face.


"Save the sweet talk for your mother" she spat on the ground and pointed her blade at the one in the middle.


The roar that ripped through the air sent a shiver down her spine, Briar had a sinking feeling that something far worse could be coming their way. All the more reason to end this fight quickly.


"Come on then" she said, beckoning the three brutes forward.


@Huey
 
Aspen jumped up, arm out as the Apple landed precisely in her hand. She smiled to herself.  And with that she bit it. She looked up, her eyes glimmering with the slightest delight for a minute before returning to monotone.


She loved that, somebody thinking about her. She had overheard everything anyone had ever said on this journey. And she had heard the remarks about her. Sure she was smaller, but nobody knew about her. She didn't take pleasure, exactly, but when it came to her job, she had some fun. But she was not little girl. She was as big and brave as the rest of them, and she had a job to do.


She looked down at the commotion, her sword instantly out, the black blade shining. She took a step forward, hesitated, then continued. She walked quickly then began sprinting. Her feet flew over the ground as she quickly came to the outskirts of the fight, watching before attacking. Her face was cold as stone and her mind blank, she was only focused on the fight. 
 
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