Fantasy Fading Flame (In Character)

[-robert-]

Leafa

"Yes, Leafa. People do. But I don't. So trust me, aye?"

"Why?" That was the only thing that wandered in Leafa's mind. She was trying to understand why people hated elves, but she couldn't come to a conclusion. She was going to ask Clanus, but something caught her attention first, a beautiful female elf passed by her, a small smile on her face. As she walked by, Leafa couldn't help but stare at her with eyes wide open, there was something special about her... the elf woman disappeared into a tent, and Leafa returned to reality. Then, Phos came back. Happy with the return of her friend, Leafa gave her a big hug. This time, hugging Phos felt more... natural. Her body was still cold and earthy, but she was starting to get used to it.

Sybil Kabboom RubyZoo

 

[Kabboom]

Jericho

Walking more or less in a straight line towards wherever his jumbled and smashed mind desired at the time, the Guardian searched for a place to rest. Giggling all the way, Audaton hardly looked like a proper Guardian of the Light, much less the leader of a Council-sanctioned incursion into dangerous territory to retrieve a potentially war-winning artifact. His tirades were interrupted when a Guardsman hastily ran up to him, swinging up a sorry excuse for a salute before reporting in an air-grasping voice. "Sir, someone lit a fire! Roughly a hundred paces out!"

Ceasing his incoherent muttering immediately, Jericho kicked back into seriousness, standing up straight and immediately giving orders. The Guardsman, most likely not the best person to relay such orders, stood and listened nonetheless, his posture rising and falling with every breath of air. "I want every Guardsman on alert, this could be more bandits. Get a group of cavalrymen to move and investigate, then report back post-haste. If they hit contact, disengage and run! Go now!" The orders were short, precise, and just as long as they had to be. Slightly pushing the Guardsman on his merry way, or in normal terms, a dead-sprint towards the cavalrymen, then back to the guardsman defensive lines, Jericho grasped his Magisteel Halberd and rushed to the fore of the reported fire, standing in open ground to see what's going on. Unwise, and it would've probably cost him his life, but he was drunk, on Moro's whiskey no less. That alone is reason enough for his apparent loss of brain function.

Thankfully, an arrow was never loosed, a bullet never shot. He stood there, eyes flickering and fluttering but still concentrating upon the distant fire within the dark forest's reaches - the orange hue standing out in the hostile blackness of the trees, swaying and fading with the wind. Jericho waited patiently and concentrated, when the familiar gallops of the Wolfhorse riders hammered into his intoxicated mind like nails on a coffin, and even when the riders returned to base, the distinct mix of a wolf's growl and a horse's neigh, emitted by a Wolfhorse when its reins are yanked sharply to quickly orient it on a new course, registered in the Guardian's ears as a shrill crescendo of a hurricane's wind hissing through a tight cave crevice.

"Some wood was lit on fire and left on the ground. Ashes everywhere. We found a note pinned to a tree." The rider, Ulric, said upon his return, handing a lightly scorched paper note to the stout halberd-wielder. Jericho's eyes immediately glanced upon its contents, taking considerably longer to process the information than he would usually take. 'Sashi,' his mind echoed. '59th Pathfinders... wait, that's our...' was all his inner voice could muster before he took off, back into the camps.

"Has anyone seen the druid?!" he yelled at the rank of Guardsmen, nestled within their defensive holes. A series of shrugs and mutters, followed by a severely uncoordinated orchestra of 'No's and 'Nuh uh's. All the Guardian could do now was sigh. Not even a full day into the Darkwoods, and they have already lost one dependable warrior, along with a scout detachment. The swirling whirlpool of Jericho's doubts hit him, dealing double the damage they normally would deal, due to his drunkenness. There was no point asking the other members of the assembled group, and definitely no point in sending out search parties. Suspicious as it were, he simply could not risk any more lives, chasing paper trails. Even if there were something out there, any Guardsman could attest to the undisputed fact that, any plans revolving around blindly wandering through Dark territory to search for suspicious things, was a very stupid plan, and someone should really beat up the stupid Lieutenant who devised said plan.

"Damnit. As you were, men. I want full alerts, and alternating shifts all throughout the night." He yelled again into the Group of 1st Legionnaires, with a resounding, yet out-of-tune wave of 'Yes sir's and 'Roger that's, bounding back to him. "I want the wagons ready to move at first light tomorrow. This time, we're not taking roadside advice. And have the rest of the scouts double-check their maps and navigation." he spoke in a more reserved tone to a Lieutenant, with the latter nodding furiously and hollering orders almost immediately after Jericho walked away. The sound of an organized Imperial unit... music to his ears. Always has been, always will be.

Slumping down against an overturned wagon, the Guardian quickly found sleep, his hands still clutching a half-empty bottle of alcohol. Jericho's consciousness slipped away easily enough. The nightmares however, would not leave him so easily.

​

And like so, the rest of the camp slipped into a state of slumber. The tired rested, while the vigilant kept watch, eyes peeled against the delusive, and deceptive treeline, the monotony broken only by silent, distant game sessions of rock-paper-scissors or bouts of "I spy with my little eye" that do not last very long, played by the Guardsmen on watch. The presence of the sleepless Seraphim, Audun, was a major boost to their morale. Shifts switched seamlessly, as the newly awoken troops quickly assume watch, while the weary ones quickly doze off, the bags beneath their eyes no longer bothering them as they slumber. Soon enough, the sun rose.

​

The chirping of a few birds, the soothing flow of a nearby stream, and most of all, the warmth of a new day's sunlight was a beautiful sight, and a powerful morale-booster for the men. Some of the Guardsmen even woke up their friends to gaze upon this beauty, garnering a few annoyed looks and grunts from the sleepers at first, but all words of dissent or disagreement ceased upon looking. Surprisingly, the expedition had set up camp near a Redleaf patch. Aptly named for their beautiful, if not slightly disturbing, crimson red leaf colors, Redleaf patches populated almost every forest within the Empire, condensed within a particular, random region of the wild. Many theories exist for their existence, ranging from relatively reasonable, to absolute nonsense. Whatever the case, it made for a beautiful sight.

The camp rose in activity, and soon enough, orders were barked around. Wagons were quickly set up, tents and other portable furniture were quickly wrapped up and stowed upon the damaged vehicles, ready for another day of trekking through dangerous territory. Elsewhere, a proper burial ceremony was being held, as the severely wounded who passed quietly and, hopefully, peacefully, into the night, were lowered as solemnly as possible into freshly dug graves, with various Darkborne-camouflage stones and herbal wards and runes already put in place in their vicinity to ward off investigating Darkborne and graverobbing Demons alike. The comrades of the fallen have no other way, but to weep silently as they salute their deceased friends one last time, before they must head to waiting areas. A new day has begun.

QizPizza Midrick Sybil -robert- RubyZoo U UnbelievableCow CrowOuttaHell SCSaya06 Vyseryx Unwavering Knight Soviet Panda

 

[UnbelievableCow]

It was a very restless night for Demond, not unlike the nights that came before this one. He managed to sneak in a about 2 hours of sleep nearing dawn. The clamor of the camp preparing for its journey tore Desmond from a rather unpleasant dream, and although he would miss out on valuable rest, he was thankful for that. He reached over to grab his sword that he had laid gently next to the bedroll, once In hand he strapped the weapon around his waist. Giving the hilt a quick pat, Desmond stood and gazed at the exit of this tent. He was debating his next move.

With one hand forward to part the opening, Desmond walked forth into the organized chaos that was the camp. Everyone seemed to have a task, moving the wagons, rolling up the tents, tending to the dead. Desmond felt a loss for action, should he lend a hand or simply do as expected of a guest/prisoner. Helping would show some character and maybe ease tensions, but that isn’t something that matters to much to Desmond. His decision was made, and he made his way to the gathering mass of soldiers. He kept to the back, keeping his distance.

With a quick motion, Desmond spit into his hand and ran it through his hair making the few out of place strands fall into rank. He then dried his hand using the side of his pants. This didn’t do much for his appearance, but Desmond hated having his hair in his face. He took a look around, taking mental note of who was giving orders and what tasks everyone was assigned with. Learning the structure of the camp would go a long way if a situation ever arises.

 

[Soviet Panda]

Buras had quickly found a place to rest when everything had calmed down, and promptly laid there like a log, snoring something fierce. When it was his turn to stand watch, the Guardsmen were nervous to wake the sleeping half giant, knowing him only for his ferocity in fighting and thinking it translated over into every day life. However, when they did gather the courage to wake him, he was as agreeable as everyone else who had been woken previously. He grumbled and griped softly, as softly as someone his size could be, but he got up all the same. And when his shift was through, he woke up the next in line and went back to sleep.

As the new day dawned, he awoke. For good this time, not just for a short watch before letting sleep reclaim him once more. And this time, he had a plan. With a purpose he strode through the camp, using his height to his advantage and gazing over the crowd, looking for something, or someone. There. He made his way through the crowd, which parted like chest high water, no one really wanted to get in the way of an Inuin that looked like he would go through them if he had to. Before long, he stood before what he had been looking for, Jericho.

"War Leader, a word." And with barely a pause, stopping only long enough for the human to turn his attention to the Inuin, Buras continued. "None of you can fight like me, none of you know how to. I can make do, I have been making do. But I would like to do more than simply make do. I will be training you and the rest of these Guardians. You will not be competent, but you will at least know what it is I am doing and act accordingly. A dancer does not like to lead one that does not know the steps. They often leave the dance with bruised shins and sore toes."
(( Kabboom ))

 

[RubyZoo]

Skyler saw from a distance that everyone was looking at the Redleafs. She sighed as she dropped a deer on the ground, pulling out her two arrows from the body. She walked away and saw everybody starting to get to work. She sat down on a rock and watched everybody, knowing it was useless to help. Laying down, she saw Desmond looking around and new he was unsure weather o help or not. She ignored him and looked up, the Redleaf trees covering the sun.

Jewl: She heard everything that was going on around her and when a fight seemed to happen she was tossed and turned in the brown bag. When things seemed to calm down, she sighed but then felt a jab at her side. She crashed in the bag as she hit the ground, yelping from the pain on her side. She saw a small light and started chewing the top, making a hole for her to climb out. When she got out, she saw two men and ran to them, thinking they were the ones who helped her get set free. Being pushed back by the end of a spear, she sat where she was and looked up at the two, not knowing what to do next.

 

[Kabboom]

Jericho

Spoiler: Jericho's Dream

The sun bore down upon the ground like a fire choking the life out of a branch of wood, making the entire groundscape shine with an incandescent yellow that almost hurt to look at. The nearly incorporeal star bursted with a flame that cannot be quenched, resting its relentless onslaught upon anything that dwelled beneath, only with the passing of an occasional cloud. The sky itself was beautiful, tender and loving, yet harsh and brutal upon the eyes with its immense brightness. Clouds in varying sizes, sifted through the air above like gentle giants, completely uncaring for their fate, as simple puffs of condensed water, doomed to dissolve as quickly as they are formed, sweeping the land with its own crystal-clear blood. Curls, rips, tears were all present, seen upon each and every cloud, turning the sky into a thousand different mosaics and paintings, worthy of displaying in the greatest of museums if one were able to encapsulate them.


Upon the soil, grass had overtaken the place. A lush green field covered as far as the limited eyes of man can hope to reach, with dew drops littered about, glistening under the sunlight like a thousand diamonds. Fluttering in perfect synchronization with every gust of wind that graced upon the cold ground were the leaves of grass themselves, swaying with every light push and pull. Flowers dotted the landscape, mingling with the glades. The radiant dandelions were in full bloom, and the occasional sunflower gazed up in awe at its namesake star. A few bumblebees straddled the petals, taking in their daily sips of nectar, hopping from flower to flower.


The scene looked, no, was, tranquil. But there were the flies.


The carriers of death and disease. The flies were here as well. In overwhelming numbers, they buzz above the myriad of corpses that lay flat upon the grass, their gaping wounds gushing red streams, and the flies just keep coming. They crawl upon the faces of the dead, their twitching legs desecrating the drained skin of the fallen comrades that have laid their lives in the ongoing 488th Battle of Vasr Hill.


This accursed hill has been the bane of Imperial Guardsmen for dozens of years. In the words of many a wise, veteran Guardsman, ‘it is the place where guardsmen go to die’. Every engagement on this elevated position overlooking Vainlight Valley’s southern flank has been a costly one for the Empire; despite Darkborne casualties accurately measured by Imperial codec-scribes to be in the millions by the end of the 10th battle alone, a Guardsman, plentiful as they may be, is far less common to find, let alone train, than a lowly Darkwolf. Every battle has been a slaughterhouse, every duel a fight for every man’s life, however longer it may last. And the one Jericho was in, is no exception.


The initial scout Group sent out to check enemy forces in the forest have all been annihilated, leaving the main infantry Group blind, and as such, they marched right into a trap. Razor-sharp blades and spikes, shot out by hideous monstrosities sporting ten too many limbs to be considered natural, all lined up within the darkened treeline, tore into the unprepared footmen. The first few ranks never even knew what hit them. Scurrying for safety like rats in a flood, the Imperial Combat Engineers attached quickly slammed their thick metal plate shields onto the dirt, and begun digging small trenches rapidly. A hail of Dark knives were soon pelted at the Group, with less casualties sustained, only a few dozen more dying from a rapid death, with a sharpened quill penetrating their cranium being the last thing their brains would register, the meagre plates of their helms solidifying as their featureless death masks. As a trench was dug, men would slither into the dip, sometimes kicking others away from it to secure the lives of their own. As the last trench had finished, Darkborne artillery had started to come raining down.


One such artillery ‘shell’ struck Jericho’s immediate vicinity, throwing him onto his back. His vision had decided to take its time returning, first registering the sun and the pastries, then slowly filling in the bodies, as the buzzing of the flies dominated his eardrums. The youngling Guardian mentally ran over his body, checking for any gashes and open wounds, of which he finds none. A terrible feeling dominated his stomach, the terrible wrenching pain making him feel as if someone tied his intestines into a knot, and then used it as a punching bag.


A helping hand yanked him back to life, and into cover. “We’re not out of it yet, youngblood! Pull yourself together!” Cried the woman, her blonde hair specked with dirt and dust, kicked up from the artillery and the impacting spikes above the trench, throwing little particles of terra firma down upon them. Turning to face another figure taking pot shots with a musket, she cried out again. “Bluss, what are our orders?”


The man in question, Bluss, ducked into the trench, and spoke in huffed breaths as he reloaded the musket. “Hold the line, push up, same shit, different day, why do you even ask?” He yelled, finishing to peek up and take another shot. A shrug and a smirk from the woman, and Jericho’s expressions mimicked hers. The smirk was flung away, as a shrill cry from a Lieutenant in an adjacent trench reached their ears.


“Siren! We’ve got a Siren, 300 paces into the trees!”


The trio were silent for a while. Then Bluss spoke again. “Well, change of plans. We’re going after that Siren. Lunes, go find Yeru. The pointy fuck should be around somewhere. Mak’Tisha, light up that treeline. And you, youngblood, peek up and start shooting!”


Hazily crawling up to the peak of the trench, Jericho pulled out his Guard Weapon, the precision-made pistol, Dante. He nestled it against the ground, its fresh aroma indicative of fresh grass and fertile soil penetrating his nostrils. As the sight picture fell into his mind like clockwork, he eased his breathing. With his finger slowly depressing on the trigger, his lungs temporarily ceased their function.


And with a bang, his vision went white.

The Guardian awoke with a shiver. A gasp escaped his mouth as he came to, as if physically exhaling the fear and dread out of his mind. Quickly hopping up to a sitting position, Jericho regained his senses slowly, just like he did that day. As soon as he'd calmed himself, the real world fell back into shape: men barking orders, guardsmen shifting boxes, and bumping into each other. The Wolfhorses neighed wearily, their time in the Dark territories evidently being short, as the otherwise hardened Imperial steeds had a hard time reorganizing themselves. Slowly, and accompanied with a sigh, Audaton rubbed his eyes.

It had been months since he last had that dream. Luckily, it seems the drinking last night stopped it before it got to the bad part. He was not the man he once was. He'd grown; grown smarter, grown stronger. Certainly didn't grow taller, but the topic didn't aggravate him like it normally would. Rising to his feet, Jericho looked around, ready to assume control again, when a particularly large figure walked up to him.

The harsh accent, crude grammar, and foolishly blunt mannerisms were all telltale signs of Gianthood. The name fell back into his head: Buras, the Inuin. Nodding and digesting what the warrior had spoken upon him, Jericho pondered carefully. It is true that the Giant possesses a feverishly aggressive yet elegant fighting style, and teamwork between the group would prove to be crucial. But then again, from his feel of the members within the team so far, none of them would like being told how to fight, especially from a species that is usually considered dull and stupid. The two factors battled each other in an imaginary balancing scale in his brain, and one side quickly became the victor.

"That is a good offer, and very diligent of you to suggest it." He spoke, having to look up uncomfortably to make eye contact with the Inuin. "Me and my men will be very grateful. But, a word of caution: do not be too frustrated or harsh if we cannot follow your instructions or teachings. As you might've seen yourself, many of the members within our... team are not very patient, and definitely not cool-headed. Other than that, hatred and frustration might only draw more Darkborne, and the last thing we need is a Dark ambush."

Soviet Panda

 

[Midrick]

Spoiler: Nightmare

The darkness enveloped them, the black uniforms and camouflage hid the reapers, they got the signal, Claymont stood to his full height with a sword and torch and yelled "Chorís epizóntes!!!" no survivors in old Sylvan. Pat led his detachment through the darkness, into the camp of bandits. They had been hired by Regalians to take care of a large group of bandits and raiders sacking villages and towns. Claymont had given him his own group of men to lead. They were all specialists, not your standard sellsword, these men came from professional armies and specifically, the elite corps of those armies. They heard the sound of combat "Krieg, Moash, go left and help the central force, You, newbie stick with me." Krieg was a veteran guardsman from the empire of light, one of the old dogs, a nick name for one of their elites. Moash was a Sarmanian, he wore a peculiar cloak, but the man knew how to fight. They were both in their thirties, older than him. But his reputation as one of the best mercenaries had been solidified in the company, and by Claymont especially, he wouldn't shut up about potential customers about Pat. Him and the new guy moved through the darkness. "We're gonna be okay right?" his voice trembled a little, probably his first job, he could understand, green, never killed before. If he stuck with Pat he would be fine. Pat nodded and put a finger up to where his lips would've been if they weren't covered. He turned back to their path onto the middle of the camp. Pat saw the flit of movement in the darkness too late.

Pat jumped out of the bed teeth bared, ready to fight. Realizing it was a dream a few seconds later. He put his hands down and bowed his head. It was the job where he got the kid killed because he hadn't seen the ambush. Krieg and Moash got back in time to help him fight off the bandits, but it was too late for the rookie, he had bled out before they could finish fighting and help him. Pat heard the clamor outside and judged that they were getting ready to head out. He got armored up and slung his axe on his back and stepped outside the tent the beuaty of the redleaves striking him. He looked around and saw Jericho talking to the half elf, half giant. It made him chuckle seeing the leader of their expedition having to look up so high at the big man. He stretched, his ribs were finally better, he would have to thank the druid when he got a chance. He walked up to a guard and asked "You see the druid, Sashi around anywhere? I got to talk to her." the guardsman turned around and looked at him like he had a second head "Sorry to tell you bud, but she and two scouts were killed in a darkborne attack." Pat shook his head at the news. She seemed like she was a good person, but it was over for her now. He didn't see anything that needed to be done until he spotted a fresh killed deer on the ground. He strolled over to the animal to inspect its wounds, two to the heart. Personally he would have shot for the lungs, but if it was dead it was dead. "Nice shooting." he said as he unsheathed a large hunting knife from his belt and squatted by the carcass. He looked up at the elf, Skyalr, a familiar feeling of anger flowed through his veins, but he resisted its temptation. "You need any help with this?" he pointed at the deer with the knife as he asked. It had been a good amount of time since he had cleaned an animal. He wanted to see if he could still do it in a quick amount of time like he used to do.

Spoiler: Knifu

RubyZoo

 

[RubyZoo]

Skyler looked up at Pat. "No, because I ain't doing anything with it. I brought it for you guys. I would have hunted more but the sun was going up so I headed back as quickly as possible. I already ate a rabbit. I could help you though," she said, a joking smile on her face. He saw the anger in his eyes but yet saw him try and hold it back. "So what marks have elves left on you? It seems like once one elf does something bad, all elves are shamed upon," she said, sadness in her eyes. She got up and walked toward Pat, pulling out one of her arrows, broke it, and made it short enough to make a nife like tool. She squatted down next to Pat and started skinning the deer.

Midrick

 

[Soviet Panda]

Buras grunted in appreciation before responding. "I do not expect much from you, I have already decided that. Hopefully you will know the simple things, the ones we teach our youngest before they get their first carvings. We will begin at dusk." And with that, a small nod and a "War Leader" marked his departure. Now he had the tough task of deciding what it was exactly he could teach these Humans and Incurscans. Some had the strength but not the fluidity, while the others had the fluidity but not the strength. It was all a hodgepodge of skills and talents, and he had to sift through it all to hopefully find the metaphorical golden nugget, if even. He'd be happy if he found a copper nugget.

 

[-robert-]

Leafa

Spoiler: Nightmare

Darkness. Her skin shivered as the cold darkness enveloped her surroundings. She looked around her, trying to locate where she was, but there was nothing but pitch black darkness. She started to move, desperately trying to escape the darkness, but with each step she took she only felt more lost, cold and weaker. But something told her to keep going, that she couldn't stop, that she couldn't give up... she looked behind her and saw it... a huge spider, heading towards her. That, she couldn't stop because of that. The spider was gaining on her by the second, she tried to outrun it, but to no avail, it ended up catching up to her. She looked behind her, the intimidating creature stopped for a second and then... squeaked. The huge spider squeaked.

Suddenly, Leafa woke up from her nightmare, startled. Pip's squeaking and Ko's tickling were to blame. Realizing that the experience was nothing but a nightmare was a huge relief. A huge smile spread alongside her face as she realized that her two animal friends were the reason of her awakening. "I am so happy to see you two! Did you sleep well? Where are Rock Lady and Clanny? Are they awake yet?" Following her question, the young elf walked up to Phos, who was still asleep, and gave her a gentle and graceful kick in her rock-made arm. The "gentle and graceful" part was only in Leafa's mind, it was a strong kick, but the woman was a literal rock, it wouldn't hurt much. "Rock Laaady! Wake up! Come ooon!"

Sybil

 

[Sybil]

Spessartite Phos
​

News of the losses in the night would reach would eventually scathe the elemental's ears as she watched over, pulling at the heart that no longer resided in her chest. The druid had always seemed so polite and kind, to hear of their passing just reminded the unofficial guardian that how unfair the world could be. Danger around every corner, taking lives like birds took to flight, gunfire as common as a pickaxe swing in the newest of the kingdom's mines. Was there any rhyme or reason for it all? The only solution she could come to was that most if not all of it were the fault of the otherworldly plague that was the Darkborne. It was their fault humanity and their offshoots were pushed to such extremes... and even if she had to do this alone she would complete her objectives.

Could it be the rat's fault... our leak? The elemental scratched harshly at their neck as they bit their 'lip' with anxiousness. She could smell it, like a bloodhound, but she couldn't pin it. Her brain tried to watch and pick pieces of evidence. The paladin with a weirdly offstanding attitude... the racist military woman... that new elven woman... no, the smell was before her... the mage? But she has a child... the giant? Too innocent seeming... Jericho?......​

Spessartite's thought train was abruptly stopped when the young elf kicked her as she had laid out, the focus shifts to her most recent responsibility. She smiled, sitting up as she barely felt the kick at all, chuckling softly. "I'm up I'm up! Whatcha doin' kiddo?" She had something to protect, which only meant this danger she sensed only demanded to be dealt with that much sooner and with lethal intensity. One thing is for sure, she wouldn't hesitate.

-robert-

 

[Midrick]

Pat started to gut it when he heard Skylar's question, his nostrils flared and he sniffed. "You want the short version or the long version." he knew she would probably have some strong feelings if he told her. Most likely a shouting session would occur, whoever said the truth never hurt was a liar. " I'll tell you what you want to hear, but you aren't going to like it. The reason I don't like elves is because about four years ago, they raided and destroyed my town. They took no prisoners and burnt it to the ground. So I tracked down the particular tribe that had done it and I exterminated them, I left none alive. Then I decided that that one tribe wasn't enough, so I joined a mercenary group and started doing off the record jobs for Regalians, which also entailed destroying elf tribes. I even have these." He reached into his pocket and grabbed the lanyard with the chieftain ears and held it out in front of him. After a few seconds he put them back. "But, Killing random elves doesn't really help with sating revenge, so I decided to come out on this expedition." He continued cleaning the carcass as he explained, probably in shock, he had been brutally honest, but if he was still the man he used to be it would have been a totally different conversation, probably with a couple of curses thrown in the mix. "Sorry if that was a bit brutal. But if your staying here you might as well know." he looked around "You should also watch your back, some people aren't as calm as me at controlling their anger." he noticed some of the guardsman glaring at the elf. Then he remembered Maria. He supposed a good way to get on Jericho's good side would be to help her out, so he would.

RubyZoo

 

[Trappy]

Hearthfall Season - Morning
Maria
The Wagons, Darkwoods​

• Present Sequence
• Interacted / Mentioned

• 
  
  "Be strong, your Highness. Be above all else, so you may prevent such tragedy . . ."
  
  Morning finally came. Birds were singing cheerful songs of harmony, as the Sun shone its golden rays of glory upon the tired travellers of the company after what felt like an eternity. Maria was among the first to rise, along with other guardsmen, scouts and the riders. A military life never allowed them much indulgence in such a luxury as sleep anyway. Every one of them, all rough fellows: terrible at manners, worse in the language they use, but there they were, still displaying admirable Imperial discipline, already getting to their routine morning tasks. Guardsmen already rounding up equipment, trophies and packing the tent; Cavalrymen tending to their valiant and faithful beasts; Scouts doing their duty, providing scanning and providing their fellows valuable information on the road ahead of them, despite their recent loss, and over there, a single scout by the name of Clanus, gazing at the gathered dead. He stood there, upright, and one could not help but notice the usual strong and bold demeanor was absent from the man. He seemed . . . broken. Maria could not assume what was on the scout's mind, was he thinking about the 59th Pathfinders? Perhaps he knew them personally. Perhaps he was just thinking about their faces, faces who belonged here, with the dead, so that he and the other scouts could at least read them a prayer. But alas, they're faces of bodies which were not found.
  
  "Hey, Clanus." The guardian said softly, upon approaching the scout.
  There was no response, just an empty stare, not directed at her, but the bodies piled together.
  "Hey. Clanus!" She repeated herself, tapping the man's shoulder. This time, the touch startled him, and Clanus turned to the guardian, wearing a tired face and sad, grey eyes. Even the strongest have a breaking point, and Clanus had lost so much in one, long night. Hand on the scout's shoulder, for some reason, Maria could not find appropriate words to soothe his pain.
  "How about you go back to the other scout detachment, yes? We're moving out." Clanus quickly nodded, like a good complying puppy. Deep down, Maria regretted she could not do much to help the man. "The men don't want to see their leader like this." She continued. "And I believe neither do the poor Pathfinders, so hang in there, okay?"
  
  Clanus left for the remaining scouts, while Maria made her way towards the commander of the company, Jericho Audaton.
  "Commander, it is time to move out. The forest outpost's commander will be expecting us." She spoke up in front of the commander. "Some supplies intended for the outpost's garrison were among those lost in the caravan burned by the serpent last night, so we wouldn't want to keep them waiting for long."
  
  
• 
  Interacted: Kabboom
  Mentioned: none
  

 

[Kabboom]

Jericho

The Inuin briefly left, and so did Jericho. Gathering his stuff quickly, and putting it on even quicker, Jericho was now on his way around the encampment. As usual, the party was late again; they were supposed to depart at sunrise, not prepare to move out at sunrise. According to the plans laid out by past-Jericho, he was supposed to be aching his ass on a Wolfhorse some half-kilometer back where they came. But just like he said to the group at the beginning of the trip, 'no plan survives first contact with the enemy'. Walking past rows of guardsmen hastily filling their holes, and a few unlucky couriers tasked with transporting all the wagon cargo back onto the actual wagons, instead of collecting dirt and dust at the bottom of a guardsman's hole. Figures passed by, some carrying an excess of 20-25 swords, others stocked with enough shields to actually crush a Darkwolf. One had a rucksack that looked like the kind of haul that Giant slaves were supposed to take care of, with the label 'Food' tacked on the side.

He approached a headless figure, assisting a few others in pushing a wagon that had its wheels sunken into the mud after a night of sitting idly on soft ground. The creaking of the wood was immense, and potentially stress-inducing, and the handful of people pushing were worn out from just the first minute of trying. Immediately motioning a couple of idle cavalrymen over to put their Wolfhorses to use, Jericho immediately hailed Evie, and the dullahan casually strolled over to him, hand already reaching for quill and paper.

"Where's Lunala?" He asked. The dullahan nodded invisibly, perhaps some leftover reflexes at work, and simply pointed towards the graves. The ones who died after the night, listed neatly on one of Evie's papers yesterday when he came to ask. The magic girl had her hands cupped in prayer, her dress already soiled by the ground, staying a small distance from the protective ring of stones and runes that surround the handful of graves. A special sort of silence fell upon the scene, and Jericho knew he wasn't the only one watching. He doesn't know what the guardsmen think of her yet, but the Guardian has served with the common soldier long enough to know that they wouldn't dare interrupt someone praying for their dead comrades. After all, it wouldn't hurt.

But they had to get going. Walking up as quietly and respectfully as he could possibly walk in a full suit of armor, and a fur cloak, Jericho put his hand on her shoulder slowly and tenderly. Lunala broke from her prayers and looked up. "Let's go, Lunala." Jericho spoke with a sombre nod, offering his hand to help her stand up. The oracle graciously accepted, with her smooth, snow-white skin almost grinding against his rough, brutish leather palm, with his armored gauntlet's fingers loosely wrapping around hers. Even through the gauntlet, he could feel how delicate her hands were. The hands of a seamstress, a violinist, or a pianist, not meant for the rigors of war. What was she thinking, coming all the way out here?

Eevie and Lunala hopped onto a wagon, taking care of each other in the special way that only two girls can. The party was now ready for moving out, with Jericho hopping onto a Wolfhorse after Maria's notifications. Royal as she may be, the Guardian still has a general's blood running in her veins, one earned, not given. The odd members of the group were rounded up via guardsmen telling them to get a move on, and the caravan of battered soldiers was on the way again. At the forefront was no longer the 59th Edela scouts, replaced by a sister detachment, the 59th Evanis scouts, with Clanus still acting as commander. The man seemed disheartened, broken by the loss of the Edela Detachment, and rode with a morose face, eyes drooping downward. Jericho's pep talk skills were shit-tier, however, so the best he could do was activate Clarity. Another day in the line of battle, with the impending self-induced headache coming up tonight being less-than-enticing.

​

The outpost turned out to be 'outpost' only in name.

Standing atop one of the only places not blanketed with impossibly tall foliage, the miniature fortress commanded a good view over its surroundings, and perhaps the only reason this place isn't visible all the way from Frontierville, is credit to the gargantuan trees that dominate the forest. Rough-hewn from stone and concrete, with some iron thrown into the mix, the outpost bustled with activity: men atop the wooden watchtower cried out with a trombone's shrill song, audible from when the caravan first entered eyesight, the walls manned by weary and worn guardsmen defenders, virtually brightening with joy and hope at the prospect of new supplies, and the dormant energies of Dark that simmer at the base of the walls, nearly invisible under daylight. All tell-tale signs of constant fighting. Clanus was not joking when he said the Darkborne activity within this area had increased dramatically.

Unfortunately, the tight entrance did not allow for the wagons to go up on the stairs, let alone enter. As such, all the cargo had to be unloaded, and manually lifted upwards, much to the plight of the guardsmen. The Guardians' help was very much appreciated, and this was one of those times when a Giant's presence was especially appreciated. After an hour or two, everything was in order. The wagons were parked near by the staircase, and all they can do now is pray that some Ravager doesn't conveniently try to scale the walls at that exact spot. The supply crates and equipment were stacked on the ground inside the courtyard,
with a horde of malnourished and under-equipped guardsmen scampering to investigate and to pick up new stuff. Many of them run off with loaves of Soldier's Bread in their hands and mouth, while others fixate entirely on boots and other apparel. A quartermaster leisurely strolled up along with some rounded up footmen to carry the rest of the crates into the storehouses.

In the midst of the men, there was a mixed, yet warm atmosphere. New faces and old friends were greeted heartily alike, with boisterous laughter echoing in the outpost. Some of the guardsmen in Jericho's group were supposed to be stationed here as reinforcements, while another group of men are to be rotated out for physical and mental inspections, and respite from the battlefield. At least, until they have to come back again. The raggedy look of the veterans here did not strike the rookies well, and the almost beggar-like appearances of the outpost defenders stood in painful contrast to the polished, neatly arranged uniforms of the newcomers. Jericho himself spotted a dear old friend; one of many, the Guardian fought along this man since his Team Anvil days, and the sergeant remembered him well.

"Why, if it isn't the sharpshooting calm-boy! Jericho, good to see ya!" yelled the soldier, approaching from the staircase leading up to the next courtyard.

"Eiglen, how are you, you shitsack on legs?" Jericho boomed back, opening his arms for a welcoming hug.

After a lot of awkward armor clinking against each other and some friendly insults flung back and forth, the sergeant, identified as Eiglen, spoke up again. "Man, we've been waiting on you for so long. Almost thought you wouldn't come!"

"Come on, you know the rules: a supply run always keeps its word. How's the eye?" Jericho spoke back. The shade provided by the upper level of the outpost was much appreciated, and with the elevated position, they were getting some properly whizzing winds for once; the kinds that made an audible ripping sound as they breezed past the upper walls, giving any guardsman posted up there without a coat some serious windchill.

"Oh, it's good, it's good. Healed nicely, see?" Eiglen responded, using his hands to further lift up his eyelids. The bare fingertip sticking through the punctured gauntlet was rubbing directly on top of a blackened scar that ran the height of the eyelid, stopping just short of the actual eye. On the actual eye, however, a glaring imperfection could be seen, with a grey indentation faintly seen, even cutting a bit into the brown sclera of the soldier, right where the eyelid scar would be if his eyes were closed. "It's a damn miracle what the Doc could do with some mage help. Says I would'a been blind without the Light vial stuff they poured on it."

"Ah, thank the Light for that. How's Shortsy and the others? Chesty? Puller?" Audaton further inquired the man, temporarily forgetting about the group he had to be in control of right now. The sergeant's face simply frowned, and that enough was an answer. "Oh."

"I'm sorry, Jer. Just so much us guardsmen can do, y'know? Not even the Doc could pull Shortsy together."

"Yeah, got it. Spare me the details for now. So what's the situation here-" Audaton inquired with a more formal tone, before being interrupted by someone else barking orders in the background. The voice stood out to him, although it didn't belong to anyone he particularly knew. Eiglin simply shrugged with a face of disgust.

"That's Group Commander Zoblis. He's a dick. Some kind of viscount sent to look after us."

"Who allowed you men to leave position? Back to your posts, now! How dare you disobey my orders! Stanglis, put that down and get back to mopping! Aaron, get the hell back to the tower, I didn't give you permission to come down! You are breaking formation, men, I will throw you all in the brigs!" The commander in question was definitely dressed like a noble. His uniform kept shiny, along with the iconic Regalian stylized quill hat, and the superior quality of armor adorning his entire body. Jericho would've dismissed him for now, but then he begun picking on his own group. "You there, Giant. How dare you stand idly at this? Move and bring the crates in, you damned beast! You there, Mage wench, assist immediately! All of you, stop standing around like retards and get moving this instant!"

Securing his Magisteel Halberd against the rock floor, Audaton barked back. "You there! What's all the damned yelling?! State your business!"

"How dare you speak to your superior like that? Identify yourself immediately!" Zoblis barked back in that iconic officer's tone, absolutely furious that someone spoke up to him.

"Jericho Audaton, Guardian and leader of the Council-sanctioned expeditionary group into Dark territory! Now state your business, soldier!" Jericho yelled back triumphantly. The viscount simply shriveled up at the mention of the names, as soon as he realized they were all titles he didn't outrank. The angered commander simply turned the other way, and resumed some restrained yelling at the men. With a smirk, Eiglin simply fist-bumped Jericho's chest.

"You showed him. Glad to have someone who doesn't have his head up his ass."

"That's kinda my job now. Do you have a field map somewhere?"

"Oh, yes. Go upstairs. Find a Lieutenant Finn. He's our go-to leader, seeing as the other option is cuckoo-hat over there. He'll brief you. And if you'll excuse me, I spot some fresh boots in that crate over there..."

A brief walk upstairs, and some violent wind later, Jericho finds himself inside a hastily erected tent that has definitely seen better days, barely held up in a corner of the outpost hidden from the breeze. A short exchange of greetings occurred between the Guardian and the lieutenant, who seemed to be a fairly collected individual, all things considered. For one thing, he still retained an otherwise passable uniform, if it weren't for the bloodstains. Jericho didn't spot a whole lot of punctures and patches on Finn's tunic, so it was definitely somebody else's blood. His eyes showed his experiences well, with a hollow socket passing for an iris. The lieutenant has seen things that no man should see.

With a quick and short briefing, Jericho re-emerged at the courtyard shortly after, addressing his own group. He didn't bring the map with him, but the thing could wait.

"Alright, here's the deal: a proper supply convoy is coming to us soon. No indication when exactly, but it shouldn't take more than a week, maybe even shorter if they don't hit any bumps along the way. Until then, we're gonna be part of the garrison, and defend this place, and also accomplishing any other tasks nearby. And don't worry, I'll be in charge for the time being, not... that other guy." Clearing his voice, the Guardian begun listing the objectives available. "There's a battery of some Darkborne artillery forms posted up on a ridge not far North from here, keep putting harassing fire on the outpost. It'll be good for morale and for defense if we took that out. There's also some ruins reported some 5 klicks down West, with some reported dangerous wildlife, along with some sort of treasure or loot. Either way, we ought to take a look at that. Last, there's a shortage on food at the moment, and a herd of stags have been reported to be migrating into our area. Would be good if someone with a bow took them out and brought them back."

QizPizza Midrick Sybil -robert- RubyZoo U UnbelievableCow CrowOuttaHell SCSaya06 Vyseryx Unwavering Knight Soviet Panda

 

[Soviet Panda]

Buras did not like the mouse that thought it could lead wolves. Especially when he began berating his men as well as them. Buras had nearly dropped what he was carrying to confront the runt, question him on his spotless armor and rotund belly while his men were dirty and went to sleep on a not quite full stomach. But his own War Leader, Jericho, spoke up before Buras could do anything. And quite frankly, the reaction the noble gave was much more enjoyable than anything he could have done. The roaring laughter from the Inuin no doubt added salt to the nobles wounds as he turned around to continue giving orders, though they were given in a much more restrained manner.

As Jericho was briefed, Buras continued unloading the wagons. And once that was done, he stood atop the walls and enjoyed the cooling breeze that so much reminded him of the frozen waste his kind called home. But he would eventually have to leave his memories of home, for there was work to be done. Work that was revealed when Jericho returned. Artillery was a relatively new concept to Buras, treasure hunting less so, and hunting even less than that. However, he new the basics of each. And since he had no bow, nor did he feel like crawling in narrow passages for something that might not even be there, his decision was clear. "The Darkborne will die." he stated simply.

 

[RubyZoo]

When Pat told her the story, she was outraged but tried not to show it. "So I guess first impression is everything" she mumbled. "Did you ever think about why the elves did that? Don't get me wrong, they did a horrible thing, but ma bye they had a reason to do it. What about the other elvin tribes? Did they have anything to do with it?" She realized her voice was starting to rise with anger but she quickly calmed down. "Sorry. Thank you for telling me. And don't worry. I know when to watch my back." She ended off with a small smile as she finished skinning her side of the deer. She got up, looked at Pat, and started walking away.

Later: When everyone reached the miniature fortress, she saw everyone being given orders. She hung back, knowing no one would really want her help. after everything was taken care of, she went into the fortress and looked around, wondering what to do. When about to sit down, she heard Jericho talking about stags that needed to be hunted. She immediately jumped up. "I'll do the stags!" she called out but realized she should have walked over. She saw some people that were here before them turned, looked in her direction, and glared at her. She gave them a nasty look and put on a brave face. She walked over to Jericho. "I'll go hunt the stags" she said more calmly, taking her bow from around her chest.

 

[LuciTheGreat]

Anna

Anna awoke with a burning flash in her heart, cold sweat running down her spine. Her night was not as peaceful as she'd expect it to be: it was long and exhausting, having marched most of her way there, until having to set up a makeshift camp as quickly as possible. Of course, the occasional Darkborne raids were also a pain, but they were quickly dealt with.

But now… the forest seemed like such a vastly different place. Luminous rows of silver freckled the sky as the matinal mists rose up above the trees, which, in the gloriously bright light of morning, seemed like a dreamy, woody heaven. She quickly said a prayer to Saint March and Holy Light before packing her stuff and getting out of the rotten tent. Outside, the rest of the “band of travellers” she had been travelling with were already up and working, each with their own task. To her right, near the fireplace, a peculiar individual was ordering his belongings: mostly complicated pieces of machinery attached to magical batteries. He suddenly stops, looks up and mutters: “One down!”. For some reason, everyone takes notice of the weird remark, but they quickly resume work when a particularly tall individual steps in, approaching Anna.

“Sister, the time has come for you to continue your mission, staying with us to help rebuild the village was… not the brightest of options-”
“Brother, I did what was right, it is my divin-”
“It is also your divine duty to see this mission to its end!” he sighed put his hand on her shoulder “We will make sure you get to the outpost safely, I don’t want any more distractions.” And with that short sentence, the group started packing and shortly after they were on their merry way to the outpost, where they dropped Anna.

The pale woman stalked the camp for a bit, and after Jericho had finished presenting the available tasks, she approached him.

“It’s good to see you again, Jericho Audaton. Remember me? From Frontierville, I’m sorry I could not join you until now, I had to abide to my duties.” She glanced upward, before continuing “I’m going hunting, scavenging for supplies is always a good idea… I myself am quite… famished…” and she left, returning to her holy cross. Seems like we’re having deer tonight.

 

[QizPizza]

Audun the Fallen

Location: Outpost
Status: Awkward
Disposition: Slightly Good
Interacting With: Kabboom
Mentioned:

Audun did not speak to Taryn for the majority of the trip to the outpost. The Nephilim and the Succubus were still a bit awkward from the night before. He wasn't sure how to approach the situation. Sure, Taryn would eventually get over his stunt, but when was another matter. The paladin spent the trek pondering the events of last night. The loss of their scouts and druid was not all that it appeared. In the morning, Audun wagered a visit to the site of the fire and graves. None of the situation added up. If the three of them were alone, then there would be no one to light the fire and create the grave marker. If the rest of the scouts were there, then they would've reported the Darkborne attack. On top of that, there was no Dark residue for him to detect. Unless the three that died were unable to slay a single Darkborne--something Audun highly doubted--then the surrounding area would be tainted.

With that came the conclusion that it was an internal conflict that resulted in their deaths. What the conflict was over, Audun could not tell, but the three involved were Reverend, Boar, and Sashi. One of the three had to have survived. Audun would recommend an operation to find the survivor, but it was too much of a long shot, and it would be a complete waste of time. The only thing they could do was cut their losses and push on.

As they continued towards the outpost, the sun caught Audun's eyes and blinded him for a brief moment. His eyes snapped shut as the wind blew through the trees, which was strange, since he felt no breeze. When he opened his eyes, he looked to find an eagle freeing itself from the foliage. The paladin kept his eyes on the bird until it freed itself from the branches. Aside from the bird, there was little noteworthy until the group reached the outpost.

When the group of Guardians got to the ramshackle fort, Audun immediately got to work, unloading entire crates at a time. He done with his fifth crate when Taryn surprised him by approaching. In her arms was Audun's lance and on her face was concerned face. The question she had caught Audun unprepared.

"Did you smell it?"

"What?"

"Did you smell the blood by the graves?"

Audun was confused, but he recalled that he had saw Taryn by the graves as he looked over the scene earlier. "Yes, what about it?"

"You didn't smell it?"

"You have to tell me what you expect me to say. I smelled a lot of things, like ash and a distinct lack of Dark." Taryn's voice was neutral. It was clear that she was still angry from last night like a child, but she was sucking it up to speak about something quite important. Audun racked his mind for anything unusual about the blood. There was regular blood from humans, of course. Maybe some hint of negative emotions lingering, but the Nephilim did not smell much else.

"Infernal blood. It was faint, but I caught it."

"Infernal blood? You were there, so I might have picked up your scent instead."

"No. It wasn't my scent. This blood came from a different species..."

"If so, it didn't smell that much different from your blood."

"Yeah...I'm trying to recall which species shares similar blood to us..."

"Vampires?"

"Perhaps. To think we had one of my bloodsucking cousins right beneath my nose and I couldn't detect them. It must have been how diluted with human blood it was."

"We don't have to worry about any vampires. Our blood isn't desirable to them." That much was true. Demons cannot feed off of Celestials* and Infernals* in anyway, so Audun and Taryn would not be in danger unless they explicitly wanted to kill them. Even then, that would involve far too much risk for a single demon. Taryn bit her lip and nodded without a word. With that, she left an awkward silence between the two.

Thankfully, Jericho returned from speaking with the commander long enough to give a briefing. He gave the group three tasks to assist the garrison: destroy a Darkborne battery, investigate some ruins, and obtain food. Audun did not have a very good relationship with animals, and untrained animals tended to stay away from him for a number of reasons. Taryn immediately volunteered for a job, which was another surprise for the day.

"I'll take the ruins."

The Succubus gave Audun a quick glance that indicated that she didn't want him to come. Audun let his partner have her space, though that was probably the opposite of what she wanted right now. There were ways to change Taryn's mind, but Audun wasn't too keen on them as right now. He can cope with a Succubus hating him for a few days.

"I will eliminate the Darkborne batteries. Does anyone else wish to volunteer for the task?"

Translation Notes:
Celestials: A term for purebred angels (Even Nephilim are considered purebred if they were born from purebred angels)
Infernals: A term for purebred demons

 

[Sybil]

Spessartite Phos​

The journey from their temporary camp to the outpost was uneventful, leaving Spessartite to her own thoughts as she would occasionally wave at the small elf in the wagon and walk behind them. It was hard to stay at ease when surrounded in the collosal trees known to hold all sorts of dangers of monsters and darkborne alike. Thoughts of traitors amongst her ranks didn’t fade, wondering who among them were tainted in an effort to thwart the campaign. Could such a thing be possible? In her life, she now expects the darkborne to be capable of anything and it only fuels her suspicion.

Upon arriving at the ‘outpost’ she couldn’t help but sigh seeing the state the place was in. Regardless of her dissatisfaction of the military sight, she didn’t let that stop her from unloading her share of boxes for the quartmaster and the starving troops. Their desperation saddened the mineral maiden, but she was happy to provide some sort of relief. Once she had helped out she went around and located Clanus, the only person she seemed to have somewhat of any confidence in. She would tap his shoulder with a stone finger if he was not facing her, giving a small wave.

“Watch the youngyin Ok? I gots to go k?” With that she left and pointed out Leafa, leaving Clanus with the elf who was around.

Spess took her newfound freedom to find Jericho, a restlessness inside her that only figuring out the plan forward would solve. How could she rest and lay around with all that can go wrong? After locating the briefing and dropping in halfway, all she could make out was the issue with artillery and the winged paladin volunteering for it. She would announce her presence, raising her stone arm. “I can go to, make it easy ya know?”

Mentions: Kabboom QizPizza

 

[-robert-]

Leafa

"Ugh."
Leafa was not exactly... thrilled. Riding in a wagon without someone to converse with was not a pleasant experience, at least for her. Due to her size, Rock Lady could not ride alongside her, and Clanus rode in one of the front wagons, leaving the young elf with a butterfly, a mouse, and the driver of the wagon, who was most likely allergic to adorableness, since the number of times he interacted with her was lower than zero. One more minute spent on that wagon would lead to a very annoying side of Leafa, even more annoying than in her current form. Luckily, they arrived at the "outpost", which more resembled a fortress. Once in the courtyard, Pigtails gave his usual speech, this time giving them a to-do list. Unsurprisingly, the young elf simply ignored the majority of it.

"Blah blah blah Darkborne artillery blah blah ruins blah blah blah food blah blah a bow took them out and brought them back."

Leafa's ear twitched as she heard the final part, maybe the stay at the outpost wouldn't be as boring as she thought. Putting her archery skills to work was fun, but the main reason of her excitement was the opportunity of spending time with the dark-haired Elf Woman, there was something so... unexplainable about her, Leafa just felt the need of talking to her. Soon, the perfect chance of sneaking out appeared, Phos had walked away, leaving her with Clanus. Bingo.

"Soooo, Clanny. Uhm... why don't you relax and do something else? You know like eat something... dance with someone... go on a date with Pigtails... ... Uh... ... Bye!"

She ran away, disappearing within the crowd. After some awkward conversations due to mistaking the woman for somebody else, Leafa finally found her.

"Hey! We haven't met yet, I'm Leafa, do you mind if I tag along and help you do... whatever he told you to do! You seem really nice, so I'd love to spend some time with you!"

RubyZoo Kabboom Sybil

 

[UnbelievableCow]

Desmond was surprised to see an outpost this deep into the forest. He knew this place would be a target for Darkborne, and the cost to maintain such a place must be phenomenal. While walking through the gates it was evident that this place had seen battle, it was in each of the faces of those who are stationed here. After coming to a halt near the center of the outpost, Jericho stepped forward and started to speak to his men.

It seemed this place had no shortage of problems, and Desmond was here to help. Hunting was never his strong suit, and dangerous animals wasn't his concern at the moment. All that was left was the Darkborne, Desmond's main reason for coming out here. Audun stepped aside and proclaimed "I will eliminate the Darkborne batteries. Does anyone else wish to volunteer for the task?" This was perfect. Desmond liked Audun's energy and was very interested to see a Seraph fight.

He took a second to think about the risk versus reward. There wasn't much of a choice in Desmond's mind. Coming out of the crowd, Desmond spoke "I'll help." placing his hand on his hilt hoping to show any amount of conviction. His concern at this point was that Audun wouldn't take him along due to his suspicion. He also hoped that joining in battle would clear any of doubts remaining within the party.

QizPizza Kabboom

 

[Soviet Panda]

Buras gave the angel a strange looked at the others that decided to assist him in destroying the darkborne. He couldn't help but growl slightly in disgust as he realized none of them knew how to fight like him, yet. Perhaps he could give them all a rundown of what to expect. They all seemed lighter than him, save for the rock woman, so he only had to explain what to expect on that part. Then again, they could leave the artillery for another day. No, he must deal with them now.

After inspecting this makeshift group, made up of the already rag tag group, Buras decided that they would do, if only just. "Come, I have much to talk to you all about." And with that, he launched into a tirade of how they must play their role in the upcoming fight. The short of it was they had to trust him. The long of it was that they were liable to be bodily thrown at the enemy with an axe following after. "You must make the first move. I will make mine once you have made yours. You do not know the Forms, makes this all harder, but I will manage." It all cycled round, once more, to their ignorance and how he simply must do. It never occurred to him that they simply were unaware of his kinds existence, since they lived out in the middle of nowhere most of the time and rarely, if ever, ventured much farther than the northern most human settlement.

 

[Midrick]

Pat heard all of the choices that Jericho had, Buras, Audun, Spessparite, seemed like they could handle themselves. The artillery situation seemed like it was in capable hands, he thought he should put a little distance between himself and Skylar, she obviously needed time to deal with what he had told her about himself, so treasure hunting it was. "Seeing as you guys got the darkborne covered." He motioned to the big man, the pile of talking rocks, and the angel. "Guess I'm off to do some forcible requesitioning. with her." He looked over at Taryn then over at Jericho, "When are we going?" hopefully, there wouldn't be any trouble, he didn't trust the woman, something about her was off...

He was fully armored and ready to go, he had forgone taking his helmet off before they had left, the sun and wind felt good, he had recently had his hair cut, the sides shaved down with his usual trimming of the top, be noticed the dusting of hair around the bottom of his chin and reminded himself to shave when he got the chance. He would make sure to keep an eye on Taryn, in case she tried or did anything suspect. He walked over to Audun "Anything I should watch out for while I'm out with her?" he whispered hopefully Audun didn't take it the wrong way, but he could never be to careful.

QizPizza Kabboom

 

[RubyZoo]

She started walking away with the crowd heading out, when the young elf came up to her. "Hi Leafa. My names Skyler and I am going to hunt. Do you want to learn a few tricks?" she asked Leafa. She started separating from the group, seeing flattened grass made by hooves. She didn't want to tell the other group, knowing they make a big deal about it. she kept walking, soon finding a big rock to sit on. she rested and listened to Leafa

-robert-

 

[QizPizza]

Audun the Fallen

Location: Outpost
Status: Mildly Concerned
Disposition: Generally Good
Interacting With: Midrick
Mentioned: Sybil

Audun nodded at rock golem and turned as Pat approached him.

"Anything I should watch out for while I'm out with her?"

Audun considered for a moment. Taryn wasn't exactly one you should leave unwatched, but the problem was, anyone who watches her is subject to her charm. The paladin wasn't all that sure about how well Pat would be able to hold up in light of his lack of anger control. Still, with at least one other person, Taryn might not consider trying anything particularly bold. In the end, she would do what is most beneficial for her, and feeding on the members of this group would not make her life easy at all. However, Audun had little idea what her plan was, and the Nephilim was already tired of playing these mind games with her. "Please treat her with respect and most definitely do not demean her by calling her anything of the variety of 'slut' or a 'whore'."

The paladin remembered the relationship that he was supposed to share with Taryn. Husband and wife. They were poor terms considering the nature of their relationship, but it was what Taryn thought of. Thus, Audun added, "I will not anyone to insult my wife in that way. Too many people have already done so because of her...history. Judging from your tattoo, I do not believe you wish for others to do the same either."

Translation Notes:
Celestials: A term for purebred angels (Even Nephilim are considered purebred if they were born from purebred angels)
Infernals: A term for purebred demons